#this started as a warm up and then i started putting more and more detail until uh oh how’d i get here

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

Can you write abt after care and acts of service jaemin ? I need a cute fluff rn (also i love ur writing so much )

thank you babes!!! hope you enjoy <333

(cw: implications of sex but not explicitly detailed)

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Jaemin's arm was looped around your shoulders as you both laid back and tried to catch your breath while staring at the white ceiling of your shared bedroom. The cotton sheets felt fresh against your sweaty back, sheets that had just been freshly washed.

It shouldn't have been as attractive as it was to walk into the bedroom to catch Jaemin fluffing the pillows. It shouldn't have been so attractive to see all the pillows in the exact arrangement you liked them. Jaemin doing the bare minimum, changing the bed sheets, should not have been that attractive. Before you knew it, the sheets were tangled around the both of you in a heated intimate exchange, ruining his work.

Jaemin pressed a kiss to the side of your head, exhaling contently, "you through a wrench in my productive plans for the day. I was about to finish our vacation itinerary. Then I was going to start on dinner for tonight. Now, I just don't feel like leaving your side."

"But tonight is my turn to make dinner," you add while turning on your side to look up at him.

"Well, you did laundry all day and I had this great idea for those potatoes we've had sitting on the counter," he counters while running a slow, gentle hand down your bare spine.

"Jaemin," you drawl out, "I had to do the laundry anyway. Tell me what you have planned and I'll make it. Ok?"

Jaemin groans dramatically while kicking off the sheets and standing from the bed, "let me do something for you! Just this once!"

He grumbles all the way to the bathroom and has an angry pout on his face as he reenters the room with a warm towel to clean you up while you pull his discarded t-shirt over your head. Your head pops through the hole, hair a mess which he lovingly fixes. You keep your eyes locked on him, "you do stuff for me all the time. You changed the sheets, you refill the gas tank in my car, you put my phone to charge, you take over making dinner like 90% of the time. Let me do stuff for you too. I feel like I'm the lazy one in this relationship."

Jaemin's jaw drops in shock, "I do these things because I want to. I like helping you out in any small way I can because I love you. I'm going to love you until I'm wrinkly, old, and gray. You can't get rid of me-- ever. And you're not lazy, you do lots of stuff for me."

You raise your brows at him, asking him to continue, "well, you kiss me whenever I want, you play with my hair when I want you to, you cuddle me to sleep, you get me my favorite snacks when you go to the store even when I don't ask you to. I just like doing things for you because it makes me happy, and more importantly, it makes you happy. You're not lazy because we each have different strengths in this relationship."

"Geez, for a second there I was almost certain my love language was just acts of service but words of affirmation just climbed its way up. You are like the perfect man."

He shrugs with a laugh, "I'm your perfect man. Let me go get started on dinner."

[hamjwis]

‘Baby say the word and I’ll be yours’

pairing: mark lee x f!reader sypnosis: mutual pining between two hearts that yearn for eachother yet too afraid to just say the word. wc : 1.4k an # been obsessed with requiem lately saur..

It was obvious from the start.

From when you first approached him till your most recent hangout back at his place. Mark knew that you liked him. It may be a bold claim, and it really was.

He knew he couldn’t just assume what others felt or thought about him. But he couldn’t help it. It started with your stuttered words, how you always became this clammy and nervous mess around him. Until you two grew closer and from acquaintances your friendship blossomed into something more intimate.

Mark noticed the extra effort you seem to put it in whenever it came to him. How you force yourself to listen to his rants about beats he conjured in his studio or the latest spiderman theory he had thought while in the shower. Or when you always find the time to come at his call despite your hectic days. Even as simple as how you always choose to eat at that one restaurant he likes despite preferring to stay in the comfort of your home when the night gets chilly.

Can’t read your mind, when all you do is dance on the line

It would drive him insane how you would pull him close and then push him away, letting out words only to take them back. It was tugging on his heart and messing with his mind whether you would mean those subtle touches, those gazes that you would hold a second longer than necessary, the way you would look at him as if he was the prettiest sight your eyes have laid on.

He had no idea if his feelings were just getting into his head or if there really was a deeper meaning behind your words.

“y’know, you look extra handsome today” You pipe up after taking in the details of the boy’s face, the words leaving your lips before you could stop yourself.

Mark could feel his cheeks grow warm as the words you blurt out reach his ears, another one of those remarks that make his heart jump. “yeah? you mean that?”

“why wouldn’t I?”

“you could be messing with me”

A roll of your eyes was all he received as he continued to push away your compliment, taking it as another one of your sarcastic jabs at him.

Of course you weren’t a fool too, you weren’t blind to Mark’s feelings. But there always was a nagging feeling in the back of your mind that the fragments of his feelings were only a part of your delusion. Which is why you held yourself back from explicitly admitting your feelings to the boy in front of you.

On fleeting instants, gathering the courage to do so, Mark found himself playing dangerously at the edge of the boundaries of your relationship, calling you baby when he felt brave enough. Though when you question him about it, he would throw an awkward chuckle and say it was because you were 'too childish' and acted like a baby.

Can't read your mind, all I need is a sign

A sign, a single indication was all he needed, was all he was waiting for to finally push forth with what he was feeling. That was the only thing holding him back from letting out the words he longed to say. That was all he was waiting for because he had this feeling, that you long for him too, that you search for his presence in every room you enter.

Mark's heart would race whenever you smaller hand finds his, making up some excuse like 'I don't want to get lost' or 'There's too many people here' just to find a way to keep some touch with him. And he knew that wasn't the real reason you wanted to keep him close, when you would reach an area with lesser people, your grasp would remain tight in his.

Somehow, you would always find a way to stay close to him. Playing with his hair, fiddling with the rings on his fingers, holding his hand and just sitting close to him. And he wasn't complaining at all, hell, he loved it. But he was afraid of your interactions feeding his dreams and delusions that you just might like him back. He often found himself thinking to himself if you were just as touchy with your other friends or if he was receiving some sort of special treatment.

But despite all those apparent gestures, Mark always had a cloud of doubt in his mind.

Say the word, I know what you're thinking but just say it first

It was another one of those nights where you would stay over at Mark’s place, just unwinding after weeks worth of stress and work in the comfortable space of humble abode. The lights were dimmed down, creating this intimate air that surrounds you. Two glasses of wine, both halfway drunk was set on the coffee table. You found yourself setlled comfortably on Mark’s lap, the alcohol in system making your head buzz, blurring out the line between rationality and impulse. Mark’s hand on your thigh felt like it set your skin on fire, but you couldn’t help but yearn for it more.

“something’s on your mind?” Mark’s voice breaks you out of your train of thoughts, bleary eyes traveling up to gaze into his own hazy oned. He looked like he was on the edge of closing his lids, his face nuzzling into your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo.

“do friends do this?”

Your question hangs unanswered for a few moments as the air grows heavier

“do you want to know what I think?” Mark finally replies, his whisper a bit harsh, having a rough edge to it.

And to his question you nodded.

Mark looked like he was bracing himself, contemplating deeply whether he should take the leap after all this time.

“No, friends don’t do this..”

“..they don’t just snuggle with each other the entire night, or wear each other’s clothes or touch each other like we do and call it as being friends. it’s just.. I don’t know.”

He heaves out a heavy sigh before shaking his head.

“Or maybe they do and I’m just looking too deeply into things”

Silence

It was that dense silence against that made his heart thump, making him cower from looking back at you.

“Do you want us to be just friends?”

Your voice was quiet, almost barely a whisper but Mark heard it clearly. His ears perk up and finally lifts his gaze to see you already looking at him, almost unsure but determined. Perhaps it was the alcohol that made your tongue loose or finally dismiss the lingering uncertainty in your minds. But it seemed like you weren’t gonna let this night end without discussing this constant push and pull between the two of you.

“No”

He breathes out, his voice quivering slightly

“I want us to be everything beyond friends”

you let out a soft hum, as if you were contemplating over his words.

"so... best friends?" Mark couldn't hold back the sigh of exasperation that slips his lips, his hand leaving your thigh to card his fingers through his hair "baby, are you being serious?" He felt the lingering annoyance fade away the moment he heard your giggles, the sound you always made when you successfully poke fun at him. "Of course not" A whispy chuckle comes from you as you turn to face him.

"I like you, Mark"

The words felt heavy but they flowed out from you easier than you first thought they would. But your doubt begin to fade as you saw the warm spark in his eyes, his lips quirking into a smile. Mark couldn't find the words to reply with your confession, his body moving faster than his mind as he plants his lips on yours.

Your lips met, a soft brush at first, a tentative exploration of this new territory of hesitance both of you have stepped on. As your lips lingered, the kiss deepened into something more slow and sensual. A warm feeling spread through you, your lips leaving his to catch some air only to be pulled back in. Your hand found his nape, resting on his skin as you keep him closer.

Your chests were heaving when your lips break away for good, the sound of panting fills the room as you try to catch your breath. Mark's cheeks were flushed, her hand moving up to cup your cheek.

"God, I like you too, so fucking much it hurts" He whispers against your lips, his forehead leaning forward to rest on yours.

"I'm all yours baby, you had me from the start, you just had to say the word"

Baby, say the word and I'll be yours

an # tbh idk if this is good (and i kinda think it stinks) but a little story time hueheu I actually got the inspo of writing this because this is how I feel with the guy I like rite neow.. he's confusing the hell out of me but whatever, if I don't get my happy ending at least they will!!

[butlervibesonly]

𝑁𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 || Austin Butler

• Summary : You and Austin have been together for a while now and he's attending a premiere with you by his side, making sure you're comfortable enough with public appearance.

• Warnings : fluff, Austin's playful teasing,...

• Pairing : Austin Butler x female! reader

• Notes : For this fic I'mma be using the Elvis (2022) premiere that took place in Australia (hope I found that right!) because Austin here looked MESMERIZING.

You and Austin have been together for some time now, and with upcoming premiere of Elvis, you two decided to make your relationship official to public. It was actually a first premiere you'll attend.

The day of the premiere arrives, and Austin was making sure you're ready and okay. "You ready?" he came out of the dressing rooms that was in your hotel room. He was headed to the mirror to adjust all sorts of details on his outfit but he noticed you.

Austin actually made sure you had a stylist if you wanted one, or offered to help you pick an outfit himself if that made you feel more comfortable. All he wanted is for you to feel confident, knowing he’ll be there to support you through the evening.

And as soon as he noticed you in the dress that his stylist helped you pick - he was taken away. "Oh my goodness," he breathed out. "Look at you!" Austin made his way to you. You were sitting on the bed, putting on heels. The dress you chose for the premiere was a gold glittering elegant dress that perfectly suited the aesthetic of the film.

"You look absolutely firkin' fantastic, baby." he helped you stand up. "Thank you, Mr. Butler, you don't look bad yourself." you giggled and Austin pulled you closer. "Are you ready for tonight? Do you need anything?"

"I'm totally fine, Austin, thank you," He was making sure all the time that you have what you need. "all I need is you by my side, that's what I wish." you pressed a kiss on his lips. Oh, and how you love those lips. Austin smiled and after being all ready, you two left in a car for the premiere.

When arriving to the place, just before stepping out of the car, he turned to you, noticing the hint of nerves on your face. Gently, he reached for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Remember, it’s just me and you tonight,” he said, his eyes warm and focused on yours. “Don’t worry about anyone else. I’ve got you.”

As you stepped onto the red carpet, camera flashes started going off everywhere, and for a second, it was a little overwhelming. But Austin kept a firm, grounding grip on your hand, guiding you through it with a calm confidence that made you feel like nothing else in the world matters. When you paused for photos, he never let go of your hand, staying close and offering small reassurances. If he noticed you feel a little out of place, he leaned over and whispers something funny just for you, making you laugh and helping you relax.

As time passed by, the red carpet filled with many familiar faces you already knew from filming of Elvis, such as Tom Hanks or even Baz himself. "Y/n, sweetheart, you look absolutely breath taking!" Tom pulled you into quick welcoming hug. "Thank you, Tom!"

"I'm telling her that all the time! Glad I'm not the only one who sees it." Austin laughed, wrapping his arm around your waist. "You sure aren't, I agree.” Baz joined in to say hello too. You were so relieved and glad that everyone involved in this movie was so nice.

At one point, a few reporters asked for an interview. He turned to you, giving you the choice with just a glance. When you nod, he smiled, his gaze full of pride and admiration.

"Austin, we couldn't notice - you're not alone here tonight! Who is this beautiful lady by your side?" An interviewer asked Austin, who brought you closer to him. "I'm here with Y/n, my girlfriend. I'm so happy she's here with me tonight, looking this magnificent!"

Austin's word made you blush, almost as if he was over the moon you're here with him. "A girlfriend, wow!" an interviewer exclaimed in surprise. "She truly looks wonderful! Y/n, how are your feelings about today's premiere?"

"I'm so honored to be here today with so many inspiring and amazing people. And especially to be here with Austin, of course, and give him all the support he deserves!" Austin couldn't help but smile while listening to you.

Throughout the short interview, he made sure you’re included, deflecting the attention when it became too much and even cracking a joke about how he’s the lucky one to be here with you.

As the evening shifted, Austin's hand rested protectively on your lower back. “Thank you for being here with me tonight.” H whispered, and then, even with all the people around, he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to it as if he’s completely unaware of the world beyond you two.

Later that night...

"So," he said, looking at you with a soft, relieved smile as you were again in the hotel room, "how was your first red carpet?" You smiled back, feeling like the night has been perfect—not because of the glitz or glamor, but because of him and how deeply he cared to make sure you felt comfortable, supported, and absolutely cherished.

"It was wonderful, babe," you replied. "And I'm not the only one thinking that, look," you passed him your phone with a Tweet that you just found.

"But they can't love you more than I do!" Austin joked as he pulled you into a hug, kissing you finally.

[dawnoftime22]

Could you do Taylor Swift comforting the reader about like insecurities about their body or their like relationship or you could flip it around about the reader comforting Taylor idk love your writing and don’t feel any pressure at all for this!

I see right through me.

| T.S

Warnings: BIG TW; mentions and lots of talking of body insecurity / body dysmorphia, relationship insecurity / anxiety, talk of self hatred, crying. CW: mentions specifically of - hair, body hair, chin, hips, thighs, legs, stomach, nose. Roam at your own danger and take self care afterwards.

Small Other Warnings: Taylor helping R with braids, R hasn't gotten braids before, Taylor explaining how much she loves every part of R in detail

Summary: After a long day without Taylor, your mind runs heavily on all it could, having a cloud of anxiety looming over you. When Taylor notices, she reassures you softly.

Word Count: 6.8k

Category: fluff, comfort

A/N: mwah, please take care of yourselves<3 i love you all and big hugs to everyone

Request A/N: to whoever requested this, I'm so sorry this took so long and ended up being a long fic too, but I finished it eventually! I'm not good at choosing, so I decided I'll combine the insecurities, if thats okay with you! :] please know that I don't have much experience with body stuff, but I hope this puts some comfort into it and it was done well<3 thank you for your lovely request, and enjoy!

| Started on 26/08/2024, 8:23 PM |

| Finished on 03/11/2024, 4:58 PM |

Main Masterlist | T.S Masterlist

Requests are now OPEN!

read guidelines first please.

"The first step is to love yourself."

|——————————— ⸆⸉ ———————————|

The running water echoes itself across the tiled walls of the bathroom, mixed in with the humming of the water heater. You felt the warmth, cascading down your body.

It was a quiet, pitch black night. The day was starting to settle down, and you had just gotten back home a few minutes ago. The bathroom only had you, alone, washing away the exhaustion thats been eating away at your muscles.

You breathed in the warm steam off the running water, feeling the thickness of the air when you exhaled it out. The mirrors and glasses of the bathroom were all fogged up in the cause of the steam.

You could see every single droplet in front of your eyes, running down your skin in clear detail, just because you were close to it.

All the physical sensations were working, but you didn't feel anything in your heart. Even as you let the water splash down upon your face, you couldn't. The day had just tired you out, and really, your feet were just terribly sore. You wanted to collapse into a ball like a curled up cat and that was it.

As your gaze moves down, the strands of your wet hair falls down with the gravity, but your eyes were set on the curve of your thigh from the upper view, not to mention the aspect of your stomach. The water droplets followed the shape of your body parts.

You tilted your head back up, and almost instantly, you couldn't help but feel that odd uneasiness under your chin. Of course. Your hand instinctively goes to brush under your jaw, finding the feel of the extra skin.

It was hard to resist, spacing out instead of cleaning yourself-- You shifted on your legs as your focus went to the bathroom tiles, unable to tear your eyes away. Honestly, you weren't even thinking of anything. Your mind was blank.

After a few more minutes of relishing in the dead blackout of your mind, you decide to ignore it and not linger on your thoughts either. Your hand reaches out to the side of the shower, finding the shower gel to grab and lather down your body.

Its a sinking feeling. Like being trapped in quicksand, slowly, unless you had something to pull yourself out with or hold onto, which you didn't. At least, not unless you speak up about the ongoing war inside your mind.

You rinse off all the suds, then turn off the shower, watching the water collapse down gracefully until you reach for your towel, drying yourself off and covering your body.

The drainhole was loud, drinking up all the remaining water that was going down. Your legs took you off to the door, the handle going down easily as you pulled with your hand.

When you went out the bathroom, the cool air of the bedroom hit you like a million pins and needles with the shiver down your spine. You almost wanted to retreat back to the steamed off room.

Beside you, where the window was, there was a quiet pitter patter. It certainly wasn't the shower since you had turned it off, but rather, the rain outside.

A small, nearly non audible sigh leaves your lips, and you turn to face the bed, seeing Taylor holding her guitar. She was sitting at the edge with her book in her lap.

She wasn't playing. But you guessed it was because she was writing lyrics down upon her page. You bit your lip, but went to your side of your bed, where your clothes were folded and awaiting.

When the blonde notices your presence returning from the bathroom, she gently turns her head over her shoulder. Your heart skipped a beat, starting to change its once slow pattern, and you couldn't tell if it was from anxiety or love.

She gives you a small smile before respectfully looking away to her notebook, pen in between her fingers, since you still only had a towel wrapped around you.

You let out a quiet breath of relief, but look down at your clothes in a disappointed feel you couldn't put a reason to, feeling any confidence grow smaller.

Shaking your head at the thought, you reach out, starting to unravel your towel to put your clothes on.

The fabric felt too comfortable. Or just not right. There wasn't an in-between. But once you slipped on Taylor's hoodie, it felt warm and cozy, like a sweet hug that embraces you, even as she was sat at the other side, doing her songwriting. It was okay, and just fine. You didn't want to interrupt her, anyway.

After you were all done with your outfit for bed, you turn to grab a hairbrush off the desk, eyes moving to the mirror as you go to gently straighten your strands in a line.

The water from your damp hair was starting to collect too much on the brush, even dripping off to the floor or any other grounds it could find. So, you decide to dry off your hair a little more using your towel, pressing it against the strands so it won't damage the work you've already done. It was a tedious task.

Your shirt now had a small patch of dampness, and it bothered you at how it stuck to your skin, but you manage to put it aside for now, ending up getting close to getting your hair just right. But not quite there yet.

Just as you were on the last part, there were a few bit of obvious strands that just didn't want to go down in the right way. It would either turn out too volumized looking, or not curving in the right way.

You sigh, settling with the stubborn piece of hair. It was time for bed anyway, so maybe by morning, it would either flatten, or turn out worse.

Either path it went, you just couldn't help but stare into the glass reflection of yourself. Your eyes stayed locked on your hair, your brain begging to go further, but your heart urging for the opposite.

Still, you swallow the lump in your throat and eventually look at your entire image. You were dressed now. Of course, its not as bothersome as it was in the bathroom, but you started to zone out once more.

You let your eyes roam, let your brain judge so as it pleases, more so, you hadn't even noticed that your breathing deepened the longer you stared.

The skin of your clenched hands brushes against the cotton material of Taylor's hoodie you wore. As much as it was warm and cozy, you stared at it, possibly long enough to even sink the entirety of yourself, if you had the possibility to possess that kind of power.

But this was the real world, and its ruthless, and you hated it. Yet, right now, it didn't even matter, because what you were fighting was only your own mind.

In fact, you had thought so hard, gone so far, to the point that you really didn't even deserve to be Taylor's lover. To be wearing her hoodie. Because, who were you to? You didn't feel attractive. Certainly not gorgeous. You felt too delicate, but in the way that flesh is compared to bones, not beautiful vases compared to steel.

Your shoulders slowly fell to a small slump as your thoughts raced, going on with your past mistakes and actions, all the negatives, and none of the positives. Taylor was always there for you, and all you thought you could do was simply give her your problems to deal with.

But during all your loud thoughts, Taylor was realizing how long it was taking you to get into bed. Her head turns to look at you once more, but this time, she sees you standing in front of the mirror, fully dressed, yet unmoving.

With your hairbrush in hand, she simply thought that perhaps you had just zoned out, but still, she pauses her songwriting, just for you.

"Baby?" she starts out. It was quiet...gentle, just to catch your attention. But you were too out of the present to hear. After a few more seconds, she gently puts down her guitar, facing up on the bed, before she goes over to you.

You felt a pair of arms wrapping around your waist, your heart jumping out a beat for a small moment, but you barely moved, letting out a breath of relief at the familiar warmth.

"Hey," Taylor whispers, resting herself against you and nuzzling into the back of your neck. You could feel your body relax, but not your inner criticism.

"You've been standing here for a while," she continues, her thumb alone, gently moving to caress your clothed stomach. The touch was there, but your jaw clenches as your eyes trail down to her hands. You couldn't see it with your shirt, and especially not with the hoodie on, but with your memory back in the shower, combined with the mindset you had, you could feel it, even just a little.

Taylor sensed something was wrong, but your lack of a response added even more concern to her mind.

She leans back and tilts her head, moving to rest her chin on your shoulder. You can feel the weight of her head, and it was different to the heaviness on your shoulders from before. It was comforting.

"...Sweetheart?" she calls softly, this time, just below your ear. Her gaze moves on to the mirror to look at you, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

You soon get pulled back to reality when she lays a soft kiss, just behind your ear, making your eyes blink as you look at her. "Mm?" you hum, oblivious, nearly, that you were completely spaced out.

"Whats wrong?" she asks, her blue eyes finding yours in the reflection. Your gaze held a little fear, almost, recognizing that look of concern.

"Nothing..." the word murmured under your breath as you look down. It was an instinctive habit, to avoid even uttering a single thing about it.

Her concern grew, and her arms tighten around you. "Hey, don't..." a breath goes through her lips, and a gentle shake of her head goes by as she captures your gaze. "...don't do that."

"I'm...sorry, its just..." You moved your hands to cover your face. Your voice shrunk. It barely even pierced through the hum of the ceiling fan. Taylor bit her lip, her heart aching at the smallness you seemed to sound like.

"Baby..." she whispers, gently grasping your hips to turn you around. You could feel her hands, being so gentle, but the only thing you could focus on was something else, and you swallow.

"You can tell me anything..." she urged softly, finding your real eyes than just a reflection. Her hands stayed where they were, giving a gentle squeeze.

You took a breath in. "Its just this— stupid hair won't go down properly," you murmur, your hand going up to run through it, then try to flatten it, clearly fussing over it a little. The other problem you had earlier was swept away with a small excuse.

Taylor's eyes stayed on yours. She knew that wasn't the only reason, or the only thing your eye had trailed to focus on, but she sighs, and the corner of her lips ever so slightly raises, nonetheless.

"Let me help you, hm?" she offers, gently taking your hand down to rest at your side, her touch calming you. She then reaches for the brush in your other hand, starting to soothingly run it through your hair.

She had turned you back around and helps you style your hair to how it would usually look. She corrects the parting too so it wasn't zig-zagged, which was another thing you were struggling with.

She sends a small smile to you in the mirror, seeing the way you had less baby strands poking out, but even the ones she couldn't put down, made you look cute to her.

"Do you want a small braid?" she whispers, glancing at you with a hopeful look. You've seen it on her own hair many times, and you loved seeing how cute it looked, but still you look at her unsurely.

"I don't know..." you whisper slowly, your voice quiet as you answered. It was as if it was the only three words you knew thats not 'I love you'. You touch a small strand hair of yours. It was soft and less frizzy from the work of her brushing.

"I've never...done braids. And they look hard to do," you add. Taylor's expressions soften even more, if possible, and she gives you a small smile.

"Thats okay. I'll do just a small one, yeah?" She says softly, her other hand trailing down to your shoulder to let her thumb give a soothing touch.

The rain still pattered against the roof of the house, and the coldness of the room only increased, making a shiver go up your spine.

"There you go...all cozy for bed," she says, a smile raising onto her face as she lays a kiss to your neck. She then met your eyes in the mirror. Her expressions held adoration. But yours were questionable.

You stared at the reflection in front of you, and the more you stared, the more your mind grew louder. You touched the small braid she did, ever so gently. It was cute. But a sigh then comes from you.

"Its cute..." you say, yet it almost sounded like you had some missing words. She notices it, and your heart was racing as you looked at her. Of course, she knows the small doubt in your voice wasn't directed to her in any way, but rather, towards the way your mindset currently was. Her blue eyes searches your face, analyzing, trying to find even just a single sign of what she was thinking.

"Baby." She leans in closer. Her voice was quiet and soft, careful almost. You could feel her arms going to gently wrap around you, and she goes to nuzzle into your neck. The touch and warm embrace was comforting. It even made the freezing feeling fade.

The blonde takes in a gentle breath, then rested her chin on your shoulder once more. "Tell me..." she starts, eyes searching yours deftly.

"...Is something bothering you?" she whispers. You stiffened a little, knowing you can't really avoid it anymore, especially when you've already used an excuse to lead her off it.

"Its...you wouldn't..." You sighed, letting your teeth sank into your lower lips, which was where the skin was already battered from your past nibbling in the day.

She chooses to wait. To not push to the fear that you'd get overwhelmed, but upon the seconds that goes by, the two of you knew that you couldn't get your words out. They had gotten stuck in your throat like a careless curse.

Taylor then leans in closer, her eyes meeting yours in the mirror softly. "If you're saying I'll judge, baby, I won't." She whispers, her voice soft. But your heart ran even higher in anxiety.

You shook your head quickly at her suspicion. "No, I...of course not...you could never do that..." You whispered. The last few words of your sentence was instinctive. You didn't want her to worry, and especially not about herself when only your mind was at fault. She doesn't ask questions unless she needs to picklock your heart out of isolation. She doesn't push and overwhelm you, she just waits patiently.

You were brought back to reality when you felt her hand cupping your cheek. Taylor had taken some steps to be in front of you, wanting your full attention on her and to show that you have all of hers.

"Its just, this..." You couldn't say it. Your hand gestured slightly before you took a breath in, gathering your next words. The pounding against your ribcage was your heart, and it wasn't out of love— Especially not self love.

"I...hate myself..." the sentence was breathed out, the smallest bit of tears welling at the corner of your eyes, to which you quickly wiped away without a second sparing, as if a rule would be broken if you hadn't.

"Oh, baby..." Her shoulders go down slightly at your statement. After the anticipation of what was truly going on, now it was obvious. She had thought of your mind, what you might think of yourself, and how you always challenge if you could ever be put in the 'good person' range. You had a tiring day after all, so she could have easily thought you had done a 'mistake' you were lingering on. But when she looks into the mirror to meet your gaze, she sees the other fears in your eyes.

She's seen it before. Known it all too much. Its the same look shes had for herself before, and her heart was starting to crack at the thought of you going through the same.

You bit your lip, your teeth going deeper. You were finally breaking down, but in another way. "I...hate this body, I hate how...how much hair I have and...why—“

"Shh, shhh..." Taylor gently stops you, her hand going to brush against your cheek, then taking your own hand to bring you to the bed, sitting you down at the edge.

"I'm sorry," you whisper shakily, your voice watery. Taylor's face softens, and she closes your one hand she was holding with two of her own, giving you a forehead kiss.

Taylor could feel her heart stuck in her throat when you apologized, and she leans back, giving you a shake of her head. "Please...don't say sorry."

She cups your face, and she crouches down slightly. "Baby, you are...so...so beautiful," she starts, slowly and quietly, her tone careful, and her gaze holding softness.

"You don't ever need to apologize for your thoughts. No--...No matter how much your mind tries to be mean towards you." Taylor keeps her eyes on yours, searching its every part, from pupil to iris.

"Listen to me," she whispers. You swallowed the lump in your throat, giving a nod, but it was out of habit, not even missing a milisecond after the sentence that passed by her lips.

She repeats it again, making sure you're not lost on her. "I want you...to listen to me closely." Her eyebrows raise a little, hands going down to hold both of yours now. You could feel the warmth coming from hers, and it keeps your focus solely on her.

She takes a deep breath, preparing to dive into everything she could think of. "...I. Love. Every. Part of you," she says out loud, enunciating each of her words and giving your hand a squeeze. Your heart was already going emotional at the sentence, but you keep listening on intently.

She looks down at your intertwined hands, then gently undo your tangled fingers, resting it on your lap, palm up. "I love your hands. Okay? whether your fingers are small or long or bent, or-- Veiny?...I don't know. Even that small patch of hair, I love," she whispers sincerely, a small laugh escaping her.

She traces your fingers gently, eyes changing from adoring them, to going up to meet your eyes. Even the lines of your palm were traced until her hands slowly trail up to your arms.

"And your arms...you know why I love them...?" she questions softly, offering you an open answer, but you gently shook your head, and it only made her heart ache, but she continues. You were nearly confused, but you let her talk. Let her reassure you.

"Because these arms hold me. They hug me, they keep me warm. Your hands hold mine, and fits so perfectly...baby, gosh, even when you're creative with your art or anything, you do the most amazing things," she whispers softly, her hand caressing up and down soothingly.

She then moves down further, making sure to get every inch that you were ever insecure about, and where she noted in her head to put extra love and care to.

Her hands finally stop to the side of your waist. She looks up at you, making sure you were okay first before she lays a soft kiss right beside where her hands are, even if she's kissing the hem of your pants. "...Your hips are perfect just the way they are. I can always pull you closer, and I always think you look adorable when you walk, or when you run up to me whenever I get back home."

You took a deep inhale in, processing her words, trying to keep up with it all, even though she was going slow, right in pace for you. Or, actually, you were also trying to hold back the oncoming tears that were starting to tease the dam of your eyelids.

She smiles softly up at you. Oh, with her sweet smile. "I don't care if they're thick, or thin, or whatever the 'perfect size' should be...but you do things with them," she says, a slight sternness evident in her voice, but softness combined with it.

Her hand gently traces the hem of your shirt, keeping her gaze on yours and giving you enough time to pull away if needed.

When you didn't, she let her hands slowly go under your shirt, going to caress your belly. "This little stomach is cute. And its my favorite pillow, whether flat or more." She then leans in and lifts it just enough, to lay a soft kiss there, too.

"Every body part you have, has a use. Your legs hold your own body with all the strength they have and your heart beats for you. Thats beautiful," she states, holding no hesitance or doubt. You stared down at her, unable to form your words, almost.

"But I..." you start, about to protest, even if you knew it was wrong, but she had shushed you ever so gently, and your lips were turning down even more as you get hit by another loving arrow of hers.

Her hand slips back out from your shirt, going to your thighs, but staying above the fabric. "These...thighs...are perfect." She keeps her eyes locked on yours, her lips moving slowly. She gives a gentle reassuring squeeze to them, smiling up at you.

"And you know what? More space for me to grab onto when we're..." she trails off with that playful glint in her eyes. You gasp, while her hand gestures to a small pointless spin in the air before resting back on your leg.

"Baby!" You couldn't help the small giggle that escapes you when you gently land your hand on her shoulder, but too soft to be counted as a slap.

She giggles softly herself, unable to have not included at least the smallest joke so she could cheer you up, and see the blush raising on your cheeks.

You bit your lip. Taylor's giggle had soon faded down, but she still looks at you adoringly. "...What else?" you whisper, your heart craving for more than you'd like to admit, and because your mind still had slme demons she was determined to fight with care.

Still, her eyes almost brighten further at your willingness to hear her praises and her confessions of love to each one of your body parts.

She stands up and gazes, already having the one obvious thing your features had right in her mind. "Well, just look at that smile..." She says under her breath, hand reaching up to caress your cheek with the back of her index finger.

She sighs softly in contentment. "I love the way you look when you smile at me, or anything, because I can tell when you're happy."

Your eyes were shining with happiness, a small chuckle escaped in your breath. She smiles back at you, with just the same amount of love, if not more.

"Your lips are soft and kissable, and the same goes with your cheeks," she murmurs softly, leaning in to first tenderly kiss both your cheeks before she finally goes to plant one affectionate one upon your lips.

You melted into it, feeling her pair of soft lips, everything that you've ever dreamed of to feel. Sure, you've had it many times, but no matter how many, your heart still swoons dreamily.

She then slowly leans back, parting from the kiss, her eyes opening just slightly at first. She looks into your irisises, then her thumb goes to trace your lips, her blue eyes following.

"I wish you would stop tearing them..." she murmurs softly with a breath. You could feel the pad of her thumb against your lips, and she could feel the bump and dive of the injured skin.

"I can't help it," you mumble softly, your shoulders falling down slightly to a small slump. Taylor knew you had your anxieties and worries-- it was a coping habit you couldn't avoid even when you try.

Her expressions soften, a small smile raising on her lips. "And thats okay. I still love you, but baby, fidget with something, don't chew..." she whispers, leaning in to give it another small kiss before returning back.

"I'll try..." you whispered back, genuinely, and she could hear it for once. She gives you a soft reassuring smile before looking back to your face.

She sits in the silence for just a moment, relishing and letting you take a short breath. "Do you want me to continue?" she asks softly, searching your features. You give her a gentle nod.

"Okay...but first, cuddles, baby," she whispers softly, gently slipping her hand back into yours so she could guide you to go further on the bed, sitting at the pillows. Her legs were unmistakably starting to ache from standing all those minutes, but she gets more comfortable with you now.

The blonde sits back, watching as you settle close to her, snuggling in. She puts an arm around you, pulling you even closer with a sweet smile. You were all cuddled up.

She takes a deep breath in to then release first, almost as if she was preparing for a speech, or confession, but she runs her free hand off to your hair, playing mindlessly with the strands.

You adjusted yourself a little, shifting and tilting your head up a bit in a small movement. To others, it could seem normal, getting comfortable, or to keep their gaze on their lover, but you were already face to face with her. She knew. So, she gently looks at you, seeing the way you rested your hand just under your chin, covering up.

Taylor leans her head down a little, her hand that was in your hair, going to gently move your hand. "...Sweetheart...you know, when you smile, or do anything normal, I don't even notice anything abnormal about your chin. Even if I do, it adds to your charm," she whispers, tackling the fear. You look up at her, nearly wondering how she saw it, without you even saying anything, but you let out a shaky breath.

"But its so obvious sometimes...its...my double chin is horrid." you whisper softly, vulnerability shining through. She shakes her head gently towards your words.

"Have you ever looked at me, and focused badly specifically on that part...? Or just badly for your own?" she questions softly, her thumb gently rubbing against your cheek.

You stare at her for a moment, thinking about it. Its true. You hadn't done the same thing to anyone else, at least not as bad as the way you judged yourself for it.

But you stay quiet, at most, snuggling closer to her and burrowing your face into her chest, arm going around her.

She understood you needed the comfort, finding solace in her embrace. So, her arm tightens around you and she leans down to nuzzle into your hair. She leaves a kiss along with it, too.

You took a deep breath in, slowly exhaling it out. She could feel the raise of air and its escape out your lungs as you stay in her embrace.

You could feel the hesitation that was starting to build up in Taylor's mind. You knew it, with how heart was slow at first, but starting to up its speed the longer she thought about her decision.

"I'm not finished, you know..." she whispers softly near your ear. You could just barely see a glimpse of her sheepish smile in the corner of your vision.

A small smile raises on your face and a giggle shakes against your ribcage, traveling over to hers. "Oh, gosh..." you breathe out, but then relax. You knew Taylor had her worries too, waiting for an opening for her to go. "You can...continue, baby..." you whisper softly, encouraging her to talk again.

She lets out a breath of relief, her arms tightening around you. Then, she leans back, moving back your hair from your face slightly. You never liked it when people did that. But it was bedtime, and Taylor always made you comfortable when she did it. Just for her to see all of your face.

She smiles softly. "...I love your eyes...and the way they admire me," she starts slowly, once again, leaning closer, almost teasingly and playfully looking with her own eyes.

You nearly entered a staring contest. But you smiled, blinking before it could even initiate, and she giggles. She didn't know why. Maybe because she was expecting a staring contest, or due to her own playfulness, but she didn't need a reason to laugh, anyway.

"The way they crinkle every time you smile is so cute," she whispers under her breath, complimenting softly without a single doubt in any space of her wording.

Your curiosity sparks further, eyebrows raising slightly in expectancy of what was next in line. Her heart melted at your gaze, seeing the small excitement you had like you were a child.

"And I love how your eyebrows show every expression I could ever decipher and...and just look at, whether angry or sad...or happy, and god, so in love with me," she says, nearly rambling on. You giggle softly, noticing how she raised and clenched her hands slightly; as if trying to stop herself from squeezing you from cuteness overload.

She took a deep breath in, releasing out of contentment. She gets herself together, then continued. "...That nose," she whispers, her eyes set on it.

"I can boop it all the time, and its adorable," she murmurs, her hand indeed going up to boop with her finger. You scrunch your nose, your lips curling up into a wide smile. "Especially when you...that!" she points to it, her heart full of joy as she definitely meant your scrunched nose.

You laughed, feeling her leaning down to nuzzle ever so gently against your nose, sharing a sweet eskimo kiss. You could feel the softness of it and the sweet gesture it was.

Her finger traces each part of your face, going along your jaw too, her touch feather light, but making itself known.

"Its normal, baby. Having different things to everybody else...its what makes you, you," she states, leaning back to let you look at her properly, and her arms returning to embrace you.

A small sympathetic smile raises on her lips. "When you don't think you're...gorgeous, beautiful, or...anything otherwise of what you would think when you look at the sunset..." she whispers, trailing off and pausing. But you wait. You keep your eyes on her and don't falter by zoning off to the wall or elsewhere just for once.

"Just, please, remember that this brain of yours"-- she gently taps at the side of your head, then looked back to your eyes. --"isn't truthful to how others could see you," she whispered truthfully.

"And I think so many people can look at you and say you are...breathtakingly gorgeous," she admitted, her smile growing wider. You sniffled slightly, feeling the prickle of your eyes.

"Me, for example. And I'll tell you it every day, with how much I love you. I don't care, whether you're tired from work, or during bedtime like this, or during messy haired mornings and cozy hang outs..." she continued, wanting you to know, to remember, and take note of this moment, that she would always be here to love you and care for you through it all.

"I love your eyes. I love your lips. I love your eyebrows and your face. I love your legs. I love your cute tummy. I love your hips...and I love your body." You finally end up breaking entirely at that, your heart caving in to the feelings its been holding back the entire time.

A small soft sob escapes your lips, unwillingly, but quiet. Taylor cradles the back of your head and pulls you in closer, closing her eyes. "Shh...its okay..."

Her thumb soothingly moved against your hair, and she nuzzles into it once more, letting you cry softly, soak her skin and shirt in however many tears you needed to release.

Even her legs come into contact, gently moving to wrap around yours, her foot caressing against yours reassuringly. It was comforting, having both soothing moments on your upper body and lower.

"It does worry me; how much you can't see yourself like I do in my eyes...but I know you're trying your best, and I...I hope that every time you can't handle your own thoughts or can't turn it around to the positive ones, you can talk to me," she whispers softly near your ear, her voice barely even going through the air.

"Okay? Tell me something when it happens," she added, leaning back, making sure you look into her eyes, seeing the way yours were watery, and your cheeks were covered in the sheen of your tears.

She smiles emotionally, her own expressions affected by yours. "Anything, and I'll jump to love you."

Your breath hitches from the crying, but you nod. "Thank you...Tay," you whispered back, but your voice broke in the middle of it. She only leans back, giving you a soft kiss, even if she could taste the saltiness of your tears. It only added to the moment.

"I...I didn't wanna...burden you, or anything," you whispered shakily, sniffling back into her chest. That sentence caught the rest of her mind's attention, and she looks down further at you, her eyebrows furrowing.

That was on another topic. Her expressions turn even more concerned, knowing how much anxiety your head can hold, but the way it was being loud in combination with your thoughts of yourself made her heart break.

"Baby," she whispers softly.

Your heart skips a beat, but you ever slightly peek out her chest, still crying a little, but subsiding.

You could see the concern etched on her face, the small frown on her lips. "You could never do that. Not with me, ever..." she gently shook her head.

"Its just..." you took a shaky breath in, then bit your lower lip, holding back the tears before it comes down once again as fast as the water in the shower was earlier.

"I-I'm sorry...this is just...another thing to bother you with," you whispered, your hand tightening on her shirt. Her face softens now, searching your expressions.

"No. No, you don't bother me, and especially not right now..." she says, her voice firm, but gentle.

Your lip trembles, and your eyes don't meet hers. "I worry." The words were let out in your breath. If her heart was glass, she was sure the cracks could be heard. It was time for your self worth and other anxieties to show through, but she wanted you to talk to her about it.

"About...?" she asks gently, setting you to explain slowly, but not wanting you to back away from the discussion.

You let out a breath through your already parted lips. "What if you get tired of me?" you whispered out, your body nearly shrinking against her and the bed in a small retreat of regret at your own words.

She breathes out a soft gentle sigh, and the quietness that came afterwards only tugged at your heart even more, made your mind reel in all the bad thoughts further.

She was actually simply gathering her thoughts. But before she could even utter a word, you speak up once more. "I...what if the next morning I wake up, you're gone?"

She swallows the lump in her throat, and let her own tears escape now, easily going down her cheeks. You hated making her cry. "Baby..." she whispers.

She shook her head insistently, then cupped your cheeks gently to make sure you look at her. "Baby, I would never leave you. And I wouldn't get tired of you up to that point. Ever."

"Please don't be so hard on yourself, sweetheart," she says, stifling a small sob, but then hugs you even closer, tighter.

"I'm sorry..." you manage to say, realizing you had probably turned the reassuring moment into a mess of crying and emotions just because of your head.

"No, no, shhh...its okay...I'm worried about you. Don't blame yourself, baby," she murmurs, giving a kiss to your head, sniffling.

"I'm just--...letting out my own emotions..." her own voice was shaky, and she even let a small chuckle escape her sentence. Your hearts were sharing their emotions. You felt guilty, but then you felt the way she took a deep breath.

She leans down a little, too, her thumb wiping away your tears as she gives a gentle nod, encouraging you to follow the breathing.

You were nearly crying even more, just because you couldn't believe the care she had, the love. But you followed. You followed until you both calmed down. A deep breath in with the nose, feeling your lungs fill with air, then out through your lips, the cool air leaving.

She rests her forehead against yours, the small tear droplets on your noses having ended up mixed together.

But still, she continues. "Everyone in this world deserves some type of love. Small or big. Especially you," she said, looking deeply into your eyes, her breaths still hitching here and there, and her voice trembled, but she managed.

"And you," you whisper back. She breathes a single laugh through her nose, smiling at your added words, but nod.

"I think...you are the most sweetest person ever. Okay? All of those 'faults'? 'Mistakes'? Just throw them out the window, baby," she whispers, going a little more lighthearted.

The blonde leans in even closer, aiming to lay a kiss to your forehead. "You need to love yourself..." she murmured against your skin, and then leaving a kiss to your eyebrow.

"Its just, I've done so many things, and I don't understand...h-how you can love me sometimes," you whispered softly, and she wills herself to say her next words, giving a kiss to the edge of your eyes.

"Because I just love you for who you are despite what you think are your faults, and I think you should do that for yourself too," she whispers, her voice sincere in all the right ways.

"All your 'bad things you've done' doesn't...justify that you're a bad person completely." She then lays a kiss to the bridge of your nose and the tip of it.

She sniffles, taking a small breath. "...and it certainly doesn't outweigh all the good things you've done." A kiss to then, your cheeks, and finally...your lips.

The last of your tears escape, and you return the kiss back to her with just as much affection and love.

She sighs contentedly, staying in it for a moment more, pouring her love before she gently broke the kiss, leaning back. "Lets get some rest in now, okay?" she whispers.

You nod gently, moving to wipe away your tears, your hand getting covered by it, but then you also wipe away hers, making her smile softly.

"I'll be right here," she reassures softly. Her hands go to pull up the covers to warm your bodies up before she returns back to a comfortable position.

"I love you," you whispered softly, not breaking your gaze from her. She could see the love in your eyes, and all the parts of her heart that had broken from your worries earlier were being picked up already.

"I love you, too..." she replies back, just as softly, nuzzling into you again.

You let out a breath of relief, and buried your face into the crook of her neck, feeling the fuzzy comforting feeling. "G'night..."

She lets her own breath escape, cuddling more against you. "Night..."

---------------------

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[bxnfire]

Lines Blurred [Part II] || Satoru Gojo

✎ synopsis: messing with each other for months now, you realized you couldn’t ignore your feelings anymore. so what do you do? end things with satoru of course! except… it’s not that simple

✎ warnings/content: smut, fluff, slight angst, drinking, fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, fwb to lovers, pet names, you two are dumb, shoko n suguru are best wingmen, college!au

✎ a/n: this is a continuation!! even though you technically COULD read this as a stand-alone, i think it’d be more enjoyable if you went to the first part before reading this. enjoy ❤️

✎ first part here

ˏˋ°•i *⁀➷ ˏ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏMINORS DNI ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

It was November. With the colder weather sinking in the atmosphere, the want of being cozy became a need. You happened to notice that in this time of the year couples were particularly annoying; why were they everywhere? Anywhere on campus you would spot a couple canoodling each other to stay warm, and honestly? As much as you hated to admit, you couldn’t help but picture you and Satoru whenever you saw them.

It had been 4 months now since you two started being friends with benefits, and while it was going well, you found yourself wanting more. The chemistry between you two was unmistakable, your humors matched perfectly, you were both ambitious, and your sex drives, well, they fed off each other.

You lost count of the amount of times you’ve been up until early hours of the day pleasing each other, “watching” movies while fucking on your couch, unwinding after a particularly stressful day taking a bath together, or just giving into each other’s desires anytime, practically anywhere.

It was getting harder for Shoko and Suguru to ignore this. They loved you both dearly, but it was getting annoying watching you stupidly pining for each other, oblivious to the fact that the feelings were mutual. Even then, they tried their very best to not step in, or at least, Shoko did.

Suguru was exhausted of having to hear Satoru after he came from your dorm. He always had some crazy story, and his blabbermouth gave him the tiniest of details, and Suguru felt like he knew you better than you probably wanted to be known. It was that bad.

“Suguruuuuuuuu, did I tell you? She ate donuts off my dick!!! Oh and when I say ate I mean ate as if that was her last meal. And so then I put chocolate syrup all over her tits, shit tastes so fucking good Suguru, I swear-”

“Shut up! You’ve been talking non-stop about her since what, August? When are you gonna confess to her dumbass?” He asked exasperated, he would understand if it were something knew, or if you clearly, didn’t like him, but it had been months of this and whenever you and Satoru were in the same room you two were so consumed by each other, he didn’t think there’d be anything to fear, and he wanted his best friend to finally date for once.

“Well what if she doesn’t want to date yet? I remember we talked about it before doing anything, and she said that after her ex she was done with dating for a while, it’s not even been a year!” Satoru said frustrated, his recount of your conversation leaving him a little heartbroken.

“I say you should talk to her. Maybe with you she’ll change her mind? I don’t think she’d turn you down,” replied Suguru sincerely, he just wanted the best for you both.

“Well I’ll see about that. We’re meeting up later at a cafe and I might bring it up to her then,” he said, plotting how he could possibly confess to you without ruining the already blurred lines of your friendship.

“Good luck!” Suguru said, praying for the best outcome.

ˏˋ°•i *⁀➷ ˏ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏ ˏˋ°•i *⁀➷ ˏ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏ

You were sitting in your dorm trying to study, but thinking of Satoru pulled your focus from anything you tried to do. Your feelings for him were consuming you, and you knew better than to confess, so you were thinking of how you could end your little arrangement in the best manner possible, and that is why you invited him to a public space: you knew that if you tried to do this in either one of your dorms you’d end up cuddled next to him after doing unspeakable things, forgetting the reason why you wanted to talk to him at all.

Deciding to leave your work for good and start getting ready, you get a text from Satoru.

💬 Toru 🍰❤️: yo sweets u ready?

💬 Toru 🍰❤️: i was wonderin if u’d like another typa snack after we were done at the cafe 🤤

💬 You: stoppppppp you’re too greedy

💬 Toru 🍰❤️: can u blame me? i have to see u walkin around lookin like a fuckin snack errr single day.

💬 You: boy…

💬 Toru 🍰❤️: yk i can’t help myself with u

You sigh looking at that last message, knowing he couldn’t help himself with your pussy, not you. You wanted to be with him so bad, but you thought it best not to mingle further with him. He would probably just get another girl and move on quick, and you would focus on your studies instead.

Heading over to the cafe, you replayed all your memories with Satoru for these last couple of months, wondering if you were truly ready to give all of that up. He sure was charming and very caring, but that’s probably how he was with the girls before, and how he will be with the ones to come. Taking this all with a grain of salt, you just settled on seeing it as a gain: if you kept your friend and went to a safer environment with him there’d be less of a chance to ruin it all right? Hopefully the distance you were going to create would spare your heart of more pain.

Once you got there, you saw Satoru sitting there already waiting for you with a couple of pastries laid out on the table before him. Smiling and waving as he saw you, you realized how hard it’d be to say what you needed to say.

“Hey there,” you said with a tiny smile, with a tone unlike the one you used for him.

“Hey, you ok? You sound a little off,” he asks worried, noticing the strangeness in your demeanor.

“All good, I just wanted to talk to you is all,” you replied, not knowing where to start or how to word your thoughts.

“Alright then, what’s up? Are you ok? Is calculus bothering you again? I could probably help you. Or is it something else?” He says, laying the things he wouldn’t be hurt to hear but also that he knew were probably troubling you.

“No! Oddly enough calculus is going well right now… I just wanted to talk about us,” you finally get out.

“Oh. What about us?” He said a little excitedly, maybe you’d ask him to be more than just friends with benefits?

“Well I just don’t think we should keep messing with each other this way anymore. I don’t want things to get too complicated, and I just think we’re bound to fuck our friendship over if we keep going like this,” you said, almost wanting to take it back when you looked at his smile drop.

“Did I do something wrong? Fuck I knew I shouldn’t have pushed you like that, I just went along for the ride but I knew you might’ve not been ready yet swee- Y/n,” he said defeated, completely discarding the plans he had made after talking to Suguru earlier.

“This isn’t your fault ‘Toru, and I want us to act as if nothing happened, I just wanted to let you know because I…” You trail off in thought, almost confessing that the only reason you wanted to stop is that you couldn’t stand loving him in silence while having to be oh so close to him.

“Because you? Just tell me Y/n,” he asked desperately.

“I think we’re better off as friends. The normal kind,” you say, trying your best to hold back your tears.

“Well then, if that’s what you think is best, I’ll respect your wishes, but don’t come crying to me when you miss me on those lonely nights,” he tried to joke, knowing damn well he, if anything, would be most likely to crawl to you than the other way around.

“Oh please, it’s not like you’re the last coke in the desert,” to you he was, but for the sake of appearances you return his energy, and said “I’ll still be around Satoru, just not to link up anymore.”

“I understand, you still down to study with me though? You KNOW how much help I need,” he asked, firstly to check if you truly meant what you said about staying “normal,” but also just to get the topic out the way and get going with the conversation.

After talking for what seemed like hours on end, you and Satoru understood that you needed to keep each other around, no matter what way it was, because your bond went beyond physical intimacy, it was pure love. You tried your best to show each other you could be civil, but the tension and your shared history made it hard.

You thought you’d be holding up well, but 2 weeks in and you already missed him. In the times you’d spend hooking up, he used to go to the gym instead, posting delicious yet tortuous pics on his story. You knew very well girls would probably be out there noticing how suddenly free he was most of the time, and would try to get on that.

Choosing not to ponder too much on it, you return to your homework and think of picking up a new hobby, one to take your mind off the blue-eyed boy you loved most. Suguru and Shoko took no time to notice the shift between you too, and even though they were glad you weren’t awkward, they missed seeing you both so happy to be with each other, when how whenever you two were together the bright, excited looks you gave each other were exchanged with longing, one that stupidly wasn’t picked up on by the other person.

Satoru was a fucking mess. He cried the night you told him to end things, convinced you realized that he wasn’t good enough for you. He respected your wishes, but for his own good, he kept healthy distance from you, he couldn’t bear to think that he messed things up. You didn’t study together nearly as often anymore, if you saw each other it was always with other people around, and you no longer behaved the same as before that one night you blurred the lines of your friendship.

Eating sweets more than ever, Satoru was acting as if he was going through a breakup. It was so bad, he no longer pretended to be charming about it. Suguru and Shoko were shocked; if you wanted each other so bad, why couldn’t you just get together?

Wanting to shake the stupidity out of you, they started to plan something to fix things between you two: a cabin trip for Satoru’s upcoming birthday. They don’t know how, but they’d figure out the way to get you both to confess, and finally get together.

It took a smoking session between those two to put together every single detail. Satisfied with their plan, they went on their own ways to get you both on the right mindset, seeing as you guys would probably not want to be so awfully close to each other for a weekend.

They decided to come to you first.

“Hey girl! We were planning to surprise Satoru on his birthday by taking him to a cabin in the mountains for the weekend, just us 4, whatcha think?” She asked excitedly, acting as if she knew things weren’t touchy between you two.

“I know you’ve picked up baking from what you told me, I think Satoru would really like him if you made his birthday cake, I think you know his taste best of all of us,” Suguru added, a sly smile coming along with that last comment, “so Y/n, you down for the ride? Remember, Satoru won’t know until the day of, so please don’t mention it to him.”

You paused to think for a minute. You and Satoru haven’t been the same for a little while, and even if you knew it was dangerous, you missed him so badly. You thought to yourself that maybe you could make some sort of unspoken amend by going on the trip and helping with the cake. Thus, you ended up agreeing to go there with them.

“Great! You and Shoko will go up there first so he doesn’t even know it’s a group thing. I’ll be taking care of the reservation and buy the decorations, so if you guys don’t mind please getting there first and putting them up? I’ll bring him there under the pretense that we’re going on a boys hiking trip, sound good?” Suguru asked, making you realize how thought out this already was.

“Perfect! Me and Y/n will get ready for that. You can probably bake over there yeah? We’ll have enough time until the boys make it there,” Shoko replies, leaving you to just nod in agreement.

Then, Suguru went to Satoru.

“Satoruuuuu! Whatcha doing for your birthday?” Suguru asks.

“I haven’t even thought about it, I’ll probably have a party back in our place and leave it at that,” he replied mindlessly.

“Well we can do that once we come back,” Suguru says nonchalantly.

“Come back? From what?” Satoru asks, suddenly actually interested in the conversation.

“Well I planned a hiking trip. Just you and me. Sound good?” Suguru replied casually, being certain Satoru wouldn’t put up a fight.

“Sounds good to me, when do we leave?” He asked just thinking about when he should start packing up.

“Friday,” Suguru says, “make sure you have enough clothes for the weekend and a bathing suit.”

“Gotcha!”

ˏˋ°•i *⁀➷ ˏ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏ ˏˋ°•i *⁀➷ ˏ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏ

Friday came sooner than you expected. Having gathered both your bags and all the ingredients for the cake, you and Shoko got up to the mountains. You two got to work setting up the decorations in the house and once that was done, you started on the cake: a delicious pavlova, a favorite of Satoru. As you baked, you got increasingly nervous for the weekend to unfold: would Satoru be taken aback at the fact that you’re here? Would he be happy? Would he at least like the cake?

“Y/nnnnn how’s that cake coming along?” Shoko asks, knowing full well it was going to be good, given that she had tried some of your pastries before.

“I think it’ll turn out great!! Hopefully ‘Toru likes it,” you say, going back to your thoughts.

“Seems like you’ll find out soon! They boys will be here in 5 minutes,” she said amused, knowing full well you would’ve liked a warning some time ago instead of now.

“Fuck! Ok ok I’ll have this finished soon,” you said more so to yourself than to her.

“Take your time!” She said giggling, knowing you were going to become a nervous wreck.

The boys got there quickly after. Satoru was psyched to see you (surprisingly) and Shoko there, and as everyone set their bags down, you all decided to play a game as the night fell.

“But what should we play guys?” You ask, shuffling through the variety of word games there.

“I think we should play paranoia!” Says Shoko excitedly, looking over to Suguru so that he can agree.

“Yeah I like that idea, let’s get in a circle everyone!” He said, grabbing some bottles from the cabinets and a couple of shot glasses, “let’s play with a twist: whenever a question doesn’t get revealed to the group, we’ll all take a shot.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Satoru, “I hope none of you are lightweight.”

A couple of rounds passed, and you eased into the game and Satoru’s presence. Whether it was the alcohol or just enjoying being able to be near him in such a calm setting the reason why you were so happy you didn’t know, but it didn’t matter at all.

Until Suguru asked Satoru a question, and his answer was your name.

You anxiously waited for the coin toss. If it was heads, the question would be revealed to the rest of you, and you didn’t know which outcome would we worse, so you just waited for the longest 15 seconds of your life.

Heads.

“What was the question Suguru?” Shoko asks.

“Who do you have a crush on?” Suguru replies casually, looking over to you with a smirk as your cheeks grew red.

“Wait, is that true ‘Toru? Do you have a crush on me?” You asked baffled, thinking he’s playing some sort of game, but hoping he’s really not.

“You’re so dumb sweets. Yes, I have crushed on you for so long, but I didn’t have the nerve to tell you because I always thought you wouldn’t be into me,” he confessed, a weight coming off his shoulders.

You were so happy you forgot Shoko and Suguru were around, so you crawled over to Satoru and kissed him the way you’ve been wanting to for so long, hoping he’d take it as an apology for the mess you’ve made of your relationship.

Shoko and Suguru gave each other a grin as they stood up and conveniently decided to play pool downstairs. Satoru’s room was in the upper floor, therefore any noise you guys made would go unnoticed by them. This, of course, went unnoticed by you two, making your little bubble appear once more.

Satoru stood up with you in his arms, and without breaking the kiss he somehow made it to the bed in his room. As both of you lay down you break away from the kiss to talk to him. What you didn’t know though, is that he was not down to waste any time.

“I,” kiss, “missed,” kiss, “you,” kiss, “so,” kiss, “goddamn much,” you struggle to say as Satoru keeps pulling you back in word after word.

“Sweets you have no fuckin’ idea of how long I’ve waited for this. I have loved you since you helped me pass that fuckass Ethics class, seeing your beautiful face, kindness, and brains every day made it impossible for me not to fall for you. To the point where I knew about your breakup even before Shoko did, and every fucking day since I’ve tried my hardest to show you the love you deserve,” he confessed, blushing as he got the words out.

“Then why didn’t you tell me you wanted more than just being friends with benefits?” You ask, thinking of all the time you could’ve been together by now.

“I wanted to, believe me, but at first I didn’t know if you’d want to date me, I always remembered that you said you were done with relationships for the moment. I loved you, and still do, so much that I decided being something to you was better than being nothing at all. And after just linking for so long I started to think you’d never like me at all,” he explained, “it sure didn’t help that the day you broke things off with me I was actually planning on confessing.”

“Oh ‘Toru, the only reason why I broke things off is because I had fallen for you and was scared you didn’t feel the same way, that you only wanted to fuck and thought I was nice enough for that,” you confessed.

“Y/n, trust me when I say that ever since I noticed you, I haven’t been able to look at anyone else. You are the only one I’ve wanted this past 2 years, and to this day, I still would feel like the luckiest man if you gave me a chance,” he said, his eyes bright and smile soft, genuine.

“I-I don’t even know what to say, I didn’t expect this,” you say, wanting to play with him.

You can tell he regrets telling you by what he says next.

“Don’t mind! I can wait, I know I can be a little intense I just-” you cut him off with a kiss, putting your hands on his face and feeling him calm under your touch.

“You’re a simp oh my God, yes Satoru, yes I want to be your girlfriend,” you say smiling.

“You think you’re funny huh? I’ll show you funny,” he says, demeanor changing altogether.

He kisses you in a way that makes it clear he’s missed you. Overpowering yet loving, he kisses you as he puts a hand on your waist and the other comes up to your neck. Breaking the kiss in one swift movement, he puts his hand right below your chin, lifting your head up to give him easier access to your neck.

Kissing from behind your ear down to your neck, Satoru leaves hickeys to mark what’s his. Every so often he’d blow over the areas he had marked to make you shiver, getting your cunt wet in no time.

“S’toru, p-please keep g-going,” you breathe desperately.

“I said I’d show you funny didn’t I? You know, you’re hilarious when you beg for me sweets. Your eyes get teary, you sound so fucked out, and your cheeks are the cutest shade pink,” he said teasingly, “why don’t cha humor me and see if I’m feeling nice?”

“Satoru please fuck me, I need you,” you say shamelessly.

He starts going under your shirt and kissing all over your chest as he pulls your shirt off, making you moan once again. You pull his head towards your perked nipples, but before putting his mouth on them he speaks again.

“Sweets I’m sorry, say that again?” He asked as he starts to nibble on your tit.

“S-Satoru I-I need y-you,” you struggle to get out.

He caresses your pussy over your clothes. “Can’t understand sweets, mind saying it again? I don’t feel like you even really missed me,” he says finding your sweet little spot, making you even wetter than you already were.

“Satoru! I’ve missed you s-so m-much, m-my fingers aren’t l-like yours, and y-you’re all I’ve t-thought about this p-past month, p-please fuck m-me!” You say, trying your best not to moan, starting to feel something poke your leg, knowing you got him where you wanted him to be.

“Say less,” and he gets to work.

Satoru kisses his way down to your waist, leaving hickeys and bite marks here and there. He pulls down your pants along with your panties, and seeing how wet you were made his dick throb. Taking a quick second to take off his own clothes, he comes back up and gets an idea.

Flipping you two so you’d be on top of him, he grinds his bare dick on your wet pussy. Desperate to find release, you start rubbing all over him, making a mess of your arousal mixing with his precum. Both of you became a moaning mess, the friction of his dick hitting your clit and going up and down your slit had you getting closer and closer to the edge.

Switching positions, Satoru turns you around and makes it so that you’re on your knees in front of him. Admiring your backside as he strokes himself, he puts his other hand to use by fingering you to prepare for what’s to come. As you arch your back, Satoru puts in another 2 digits inside of you, not wanting to wait too long to start fucking you.

“O-Oh my g-god S’toru,” you moaned.

“I know pretty, I know,” he cooed.

Soon after he finally aligned himself at your entrance and fucked you from the back. Still wanting to please you with his hand, he resorted to using his thumb to rub on your clit as he deliciously pounded into you.

“F-Fuck! T-That feels s-so good!” You screamed in ecstasy.

“Take it sweets! F-Fuck!” He replied.

“S-Satoru,” you start to moan, like a chant, as if your brain knew nothing but his name, something that made him go insane, thrusting into you as if it was the last thing he’d ever do.

“Cum with me sweet baby! I want to feel you clench on my dick,” he said, and that is what you did.

Coming undone on his dick is a feeling you weren’t new to. Goosebumps all over your skin, glowing with a layer of sweat as your cheeks turn red and your eyes a bit teary, and yet, this time it was different. This time, you were truly bare, vulnerable with him, and he showed you that he could be vulnerable too.

After he came, he got up to get a towel from the bathroom to clean you up. Caressing your legs slowly to get the mixture of your juices out of the way, he stared at you lovingly. Going away again once more to get you both water, you succumb to the part of you that had been aching to just be with him.

As he sits back on the bed after drinking water, he pulls you closer to him, with an arm under your head and the other wrapped around your waist. In response, you put your arms around his neck and put a leg over his, and you both stare into each other’s eyes lovingly.

“Toru,” you say, breaking the silence.

“Yes, sweets?” He replies.

“Guess what.”

“What?”

“I love you,” you say, giggling at how corny you sound.

“Who’s the simp now?” He asks, blushing at your shameless display of affection.

“Oh I have always been, you were just too dumb to tell,” you reply, wanting to cover up for your cheesiness.

“I could say the same about you sweets,” he says.

“Touché. Still, though, I mean it Satoru.”

“I love you too Y/n, more than you could ever imagine,” he says before giving you a sweet, long kiss.

After that, you guys just catch up on your stuff, realizing just how much you had been longing to talk to each other. The weekend went by pretty fast, being caught up having fun either with Suguru and Shoko or just between the two of you. Satoru jokes and complains about nobody getting him the dumbass shirt he’s been wanting for months, but in reality, there is nothing greater than the gift you gave him: being his girlfriend.

ˏˋ°•i *⁀➷ ˏ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏ ˏˋ°•i *⁀➷ ˏ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏ

In the months following, he proved to you what love could truly be. He was your biggest cheerleader, your shoulder to cry on, your own personal jester sometimes because of how silly he could be, chauffeur, and overall, your best friend turned lover. You used to think that you were with the boy of your dreams a year ago, but now, with Satoru by your side, you realized how wrong you were.

Satoru taught you what love really was. The little things, like small sticky-note cards, knowing your order at the bakery you liked like he knew the back of his hand, to what exactly makes you come undone, to saying what you needed to hear, sharing jokes only the two of you understood, stolen glances, and caresses that only belonged to the two of you, became the most precious things to you. The day you became his girlfriend, Satoru pledged to himself to be the man you deserved ‘til the day he died, and so far, he has proved to be a man of his word, for his happiness came from you and only you, and having his life purpose to be making you happy by his side was the worthiest life of all.

[0vergrowngraveyard]

mimimimimi…..

[sneeb-canons]

Headcanon #400: Heart & Mind are usually never a neutral temperature. The area around them is like the sun & moon. Mind's being hot and Hearts being cold. They're body temperatures however contrast that with Mind always feeling cold like metal/machinery and Heart feeling warm like a literal heart.

[more in tags :}]

[sukunasteeth]

Sukuna has never said no to you.

It didn’t matter what the request was, simple or complicated, easy to fix or a days-long job, Sukuna was always at your side, completing the task as fast as he needed to to keep you satisfied. He would love to deny it, you’re sure, but evidence proves time and time again that he puts your needs and wants at the top of his priority list. 

And you were curious how far you could go with it.

The two of you are sitting in your underwear at the breakfast nook, warming yourselves in the bay window while the morning sun starts on the leftover night time chill. It wasn't quite time for breakfast, still too early for the both of you. In the meantime, you sip on your morning brews, preserving the comfortable silence. Sukuna is flipping through the day's newspaper, his eyes are groggy with sleep and he hasn't said more than a handful of words to you yet. He wasn't a morning person.

You were starting to change that.

"Kuna," You call to him, nudging him with your foot from your corner of the window bench.

"Hmm?" He doesn't look up from the paper, but his hand reaches down and grabs your foot, pulling it into his lap. His thumbs start to subconsciously knead at your muscles.

"I want these." You hold up your phone, which you had previously been scrolling through in an attempt to find something ridiculous for this exact moment. You were sure you had found it, something even Sukuna would find unnecessary. 

And yet, he merely glances at your screen, takes in the sight for all of two seconds, and then returns his attention to whatever news article he was in the middle of.

"My wallet's on the counter." He clears the sleep from his throat not sparing a second look. 

You blink at him in surprise.

"D-Did you even see what it is?" You flip your phone around to make sure you were displaying the correct thing. 

Sukuna is frowning before he looks up again, curious at your persistence. He gently cups your hand, bringing it only a minuscule amount closer to examine your screen a second time. 

You were on one of the most luxurious brand’s websites, showing him an incredibly regular pair of panties, no straps, no details, all black- with one of the most outrageous price tags you had ever seen for something so ordinary. 

Sukuna cocks a brow at you over your phone, "Can't imagine you need more panties when you're constantly stealing my boxers. But whatever, hand it over. I know my card number-"

"Kuna," You interrupt him with a surprised laugh, holding fast to your phone when he tries to pluck it out of your hands, "they're a thousand dollars."

He glances back, his eyes focusing lower on the screen where you know the price tag to be. The newspaper in his hands drops down, momentarily forgotten by what he sees. For a moment, you think you've found his limit.

"Wait, are those red one's assless?" He points just below the price, where the recommended products are depicted. "Get those too."

You drop the phone down so that he meets your eyes, which are wide with shock.

Sukuna always took care of you. Always insisted on being the provider of any single thing that you may need; a warm meal, a soft bed, anything your eyes twinkled at that was available for purchase- even if you would never think of buying or owning it. Granted, you never wanted much in terms of material possessions, so you didn't realize the true extent of Sukuna's leniency until now.

It was slightly intimidating, and part of it felt wrong. Sukuna had money, plenty of it, but that didn’t mean he should feel the need to spend copious amounts of it on you just because you could ask him to. He was giving you too much power, it felt like.

You huff through your nose, frowning at him, which only has him tilting his head further to the side in question.

You ignore it, setting your phone onto the window seat and crawling your way closer to him, until you can gather up his face in your hands and lock his gaze into yours.

He glares at you past smushed cheeks, but doesn't make a move to break free of your hold, humoring you. "The hell are you doing-"

"You know you don't always have to say yes to me?"

Now that has him taken aback. His mouth automatically opens for a witty response, but your question seems to have effectively taken the words from his mouth. You can see the cogs in his head turning, and what you wouldn't give to peer inside his mind and hear his thoughts.

It takes him a moment, but eventually that familiar confident smile stretches across his sleepy face. His hands seem to instinctively slide their way up your bare legs until his fingers grip your hip bones, pressing into you. 

He hums, "When have you ever said no to me?"

You scoff, ready to give him a prime example, but end up coming up short. The two of you loved to tease each other with disobedience, but in the end you were eager to give Sukuna anything his heart desired. You loved to please him, it was one of your favorite things to do, in fact.

"You never ask anything ridiculous of me." You remind him, smiling as one of his warm hands slides back down your waist and dips into the pair of his boxers you were sporting that day. 

"You know what's ridiculous?” His voice wraps around your throat, and suddenly has you swallowing past the delicious grip. You're folding into him before you even realize it, at the mercy of his calloused hands. "The implication that I wouldn't do just about anything for you."

You can't help but sigh hopelessly, although it comes out as a desperate noise that pleads him for more. You really were all his, just like he loved to tell you.

"Now hand me your phone." It's a whisper, coaxing you. "I wanna see you in red."

You can’t say no. 

At least it was mutual.

[sushiyuzu]

cute yapper

warning: fluff + comfort — soft!sylus admiring you while you yap. like, a lot 🗣🤍

a/n: tysm for the cute request, dear anon! i apologize if it’s short for you but i hope you like it as much as i do <3

anon’s request / link: click here

you’re talking, and, well, it’s a lot.

words just keep coming out, one after another, and you can’t help it. you’re talking about everything—how your day went, a cute cat you saw on the way here, some new recipe you want to try, or that funny story from when you were little. it all feels so exciting to you, like you just have to tell someone.

and, of course, that someone is sylus.

he’s sitting there with his usual calm, cool look, his red eyes watching you. he doesn’t say much, just a soft nod here and there, maybe a small smile if you’re lucky.

it’s hard to tell sometimes if he’s really listening or if he’s just being polite. he’s so quiet, and it makes you wonder if you’re being too much, if he’s just letting you talk because he doesn’t want to be rude.

you pause for a moment, glancing at him. he’s looking at you, but his face doesn’t give much away. that only makes you more nervous. “...and, well, maybe i’m just boring you,” you mumble, voice getting softer as you look down at your hands. “sorry, i guess i’ve just been talking too much...”

you stop talking completely, a little embarrassed now. your fingers fidget with the hem of your shirt, and the silence between you feels heavy, like maybe he’s relieved you finally stopped.

then, after a moment, he moves closer, and you can feel his warmth next to you. his voice is low, soft, and it catches you off guard. “why did you stop?”

you look up, eyes wide, surprised by the question. “oh... um, i just thought maybe you weren’t really listening. i didn’t want to bother you.”

he lets out a small chuckle, like he finds something you said a little funny but in a nice way. “i was listening,” he says, his tone serious but also gentle. “i was listening to every word.”

you can’t help but blink in surprise. “really? but... i thought...”

he reaches over, his fingers brushing a strand of hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear. his touch is soft, and you can feel a warmth spreading across your cheeks. “yes, really,” he murmurs. “i think it’s cute. you’re just so... so pretty when you talk. your face lights up, and your eyes sparkle. i could listen to you talk all day.”

he says it so calmly, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, but his gaze is warm and deep, like he means every word. you feel your heart start to race, a mix of joy and shyness making you fidget in your seat.

“so... you really don’t mind? you actually like it?” you ask, just to be sure, your voice coming out a little softer than before.

he nods, and his hand moves to rest on yours, his thumb gently tracing small circles on the back of your hand. “of course i like it. i love it, actually. you’re so full of life when you talk about the things you care about. it’s... beautiful.”

oh, the man that you are.

his words make your cheeks feel even warmer, and you feel a shy smile tugging at your lips. you take a deep breath, feeling a rush of happiness that’s hard to put into words. “thank you, sylus,” you whisper, your heart feeling full.

and then, before you know it, you’re talking again. your words are coming out even faster, even happier than before. you tell him all the little details, even the silliest ones that you used to hold back. it’s like a flood of everything you’ve wanted to share, and for the first time, you don’t worry about holding back.

sylus just watches you, his eyes soft and his expression calm, but there’s a gentle smile on his lips, and he’s nodding along, letting you know he’s right there with you. every now and then, he’ll lean closer, his hand still warm on yours, or he’ll give a soft chuckle when you say something funny. it’s like he’s completely focused on you, and only you.

then, as you keep talking, he leans forward even more, so close that you can feel his breath on your shoulder. before you can even process it, he presses a gentle peck there, playful but soft, then followed by a slow, open-mouth warm kiss. the sensation sends a small shiver through you, and you pause, surprised.

you feel his arms slide around you, holding you close as he murmurs, “don’t stop, okay? keep talking. i love hearing your voice.”

you nod, feeling a mix of excitement and comfort as you settle into his hold. you keep talking, feeling safe, warm, and wanted. for the first time, you don’t feel like you’re too much, or that your words are a burden. instead, you feel like every word matters, like every story you share with him is special, and he’s there to hear it all.

and you absolutely love him for that.

always.

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 34: The Whole Truth

Summary: In life, we will be confronted with difficult choices. Sometimes you won't know you've made the wrong choice until it's too late

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 12,582 words

Warnings: Dead dove: do not eat, Angst, graphic violence and torture, mentions of predatory behavior towards a minor, Phillip Graves is a major creep, lots blood and injuries, kidnapping and its aftermath, hostage situations, anxiety and panic attacks, language, very explicitly described torture, ‘mega gets hit a lot, choking, biting, ‘mega gets stabbed with an ice pick, author can’t write COD missions, vomiting, lots of heavy emotions, detailed descriptions of pain, guns, background character dies on screen, descriptions of guilt and grief, lots of POV changes, some descriptive language of gore and blood at the end, rehashing of ‘mega’s injuries from the last chapter, a lot of angst and very heavy content, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe

A/N: This chapter deals with some pretty heavy content. Please, please, please read and heed the warnings. I have included content warnings for the more graphic parts before they happen, so if you don't want to read those, you can skip ahead to the next part. I suggest taking breaks if you need to, read it in installments if necessary. And I cannot stress it enough, please heed the warnings.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

“Hi darlin’.” His grin widens like he’s happy to see you. “Been a long time.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, your brain still sluggish. You feel sick as you try to process, try to figure out why and how. You try to move your arms again, but your wrists are stuck, hands burning as you pull. You desperately want them free, desperately need them free. 

“Easy,” Phil says, putting his hands on yours, pushing them flat against the arms of the chair. They’re warm and calloused, the same hand that had been on your face a few moments ago. “You’re gonna hurt yourself. More than you already have been.” He lifts your left leg, making you groan quietly as a deep ache throbs down to your foot and up to your hip. 

Running. A gunshot. Pain.

“He had strict orders not to harm you.” Phil says, adjusting the bandage wrapped around your calf. “Don’t worry. We got you all fixed up.” He sets your leg back down gingerly, his touch lingering for a moment before he looks back up at you. 

“Why?” You croak out, trying to make sense of what happened. 

Corporal McKinney broke into the barracks and chased you into the woods. He shot you and drugged you and now you’re here, restrained in a chair staring at a man you haven’t seen for years. A man who was once your dad’s best friend. 

“A lot has happened since we saw each other last.” He says, pushing himself to stand. “I left the Marines after a few years, formed my own group of military contractors. Invited your dad to join, but you know how he is. All honor and duty and serving the country. Of course, you haven’t seen him in quite a while, have you?” 

You stare up at him, starting to get scared. You never liked Phil. There was always something about him that put you off. He always stared too long, always sat too close to you. He always greeted you with a hug that lasted too long, squeezing you too tightly against him. He was sweet on you in a way he wasn’t with anyone else. He could be intense, brash and almost downright rude sometimes. He was a firm believer in traditional packs too, even if he never spoke about his own pack, his own omega. He had to have one, if he was as dedicated as he said. 

He was far too much like your father. 

Phil was always kinder to you, though. Softer. Not quite as callous and bellicose as your father in public. He was polite, always happy to lend a hand, always glad to roughhouse with your brothers to get their energy out. You saw the way your mother looked at him though. Perhaps her apprehension bled into you, those dormant omega instincts picking up on something she was projecting. 

He made you uncomfortable, and she knew it. 

What could an omega do, though, in a world where they don’t have opinions, they can’t argue, they can’t disagree. Your mother never said anything because in the world your family existed in, the world Phil existed in, she couldn’t. 

“He was so angry when he called.” Phil continues, staring down at you. “Ranting and raving about how his oldest daughter betrayed him by presenting as an omega. He couldn’t stand having such a useless child in his perfect pack.” You flinch at his words, even though you heard your father spew those very words after your presentation firsthand. 

“He called you?” You ask, the pieces starting to come together as your brain finally snaps fully into awareness. You knew he called someone, but you hadn’t thought it would ever be Phil. 

“Of course.” Phil chuckles. “We were good friends, pals, buddies. He knew I could help him.” A shiver runs down your spine. You know what he’s going to say next. “So I did. I have some contacts in some high places, people who owe me favors. So I made some calls, pulled some strings, got you into FIOT immediately, with some strings attached of course.” He leans down so you’re almost face to face. “I wanted you. They put a note in your file. You wouldn’t be placed in the registry when you were old enough, you would go to me and my pack.” 

Bile churns in your stomach as you process his words. It all makes sense now. The stares, the hugs, the closeness with your father, your rapid enrollment in an institute that can take weeks to process applications. It was all so you could be his. Something he’s wanted from early on. 

“You would have been mine,” He pushes himself up straight again, starting to pace back and forth in front of you. “If the fucking CIA hadn’t gotten involved!” You flinch as his voice raises, the frustration starting to darken his scent. “They froze your file, made the claim null and void. All for what, their little initiative that never really existed in the first place?” He huffs out a laugh, a smirk tilting his lips. “Small world, though. Who knew we’d be seeing each other again after so long.” 

He steps closer, looking down at you. You hold his gaze, suddenly feeling afraid. Even though you know him, even though you spent a good part of your childhood around him, you’re afraid of him right now. Your mind starts to revert back, the urge to lower your eyes, break eye contact like you’re supposed to flashing through your mind. 

Don’t stare alphas in the eyes. They’ll take that as a challenge. It’s not your job to challenge them. Your job is to be subservient. 

You would have been subservient to him if the CIA hadn’t gotten involved. You would have been under his control, bowing to him and his will. You’d have pups by now, at least one. He’d always talked about having a big pack with lots of pups someday, always glancing at you when he said it. 

You’re going to vomit all over him. 

It’s not just the truth that scares you, though. You’re being held captive here. That thought has registered in your mind now, the reality settling in as you get over the shock of the last few minutes. Corporal McKinney kidnapped you from base, and now you’re restrained in a chair surrounded by unknown alphas. Phil isn’t going to help you, take pity on you. He’s not here to be nice, to have a little chat and catch up on life.

That possibly ended as soon as he was denied what he wanted. 

His hand cups your chin, holding your face up as he looks down at you. His thumb is rough as it strokes your jaw, a tickling feeling starting in the back of your mind again. There’s an almost bittersweet look in his eyes as he holds your gaze. You refuse to lower it, refuse to give him that satisfaction. “You’ve grown up a lot.” He says, his hand sliding down your neck to the collar of your shirt. “You always were cute, though. I knew early on you were going to be an omega. You were far too...calm and compliant compared to your brothers. Always so polite and eager to please. You can tell if you pay attention, you know. Those dormant instincts start to show themselves long before presentation.” 

His hand pulls your collar to the side, revealing your mark. His eyes harden as he stares at it, his lips turning down into a frown. A shiver runs down your spine as the darkness in his scent intensifies. He’s not holding you hostage just to tell you about what could have been, what direction your life might have taken. He’s here for a reason, and you know your pack is involved. Something has happened, something behind the scenes, something John was looking into. 

“What’s going on?” You ask as he releases your collar, taking a step back. 

“Well, you’re being held hostage.” He says, like it isn’t already obvious. “You’re...shall we say...leverage to ensure your pack follows orders.” 

You blink at him. You haven’t heard from or spoken to your pack in weeks. You should be relieved that they’re apparently still alive, but what if you had been right and they don’t want you anymore? Why would they take you if your pack has abandoned you? Or did they take you to ensure they wouldn’t...

“Laswell stuck her nose somewhere it shouldn’t have been.” Phil says, crossing his arms. “It’s only so long before your pack finds out. Let’s just say...they’re not going to be happy about it. So, to ensure they don’t do something impulsive and reckless as they are known to do, you’re going to play hostage.” 

You gulp as you stare up at him, suddenly feeling very afraid. Your scent spikes in the air, clouding it with the bitter scent of anxiety. It was the plan all along. You knew it even if you hadn’t been told outright. Deep down you’ve always known it wasn’t about strengthening packs. It wasn’t about studying how an omega would increase or decrease the efficiency of military packs. With the events of the last few months, the idea had started to form in your mind. You know you weren’t alone in those thoughts. John and Simon were digging into the cameras for a reason. They were put up for a reason. 

It was always about control.

That was the point of the initiative. That was why they put cameras up, that was why General Shepherd was so invested in the state of your pack and if you had been mated. He needed to ensure you were close enough to them so if something happened that wasn’t supposed to, you could be used against them. 

You’re nothing more than leverage. 

Your scent spikes in the air, clouding the room as reality sinks into you. Something happened that caused this. Something called your pack away to isolate you, to leave you vulnerable. They wanted you alone as a contingency. 

Something did happen. 

Now you’re here, being held captive by a man you used to know, a man who could have been your alpha had things not played out the way they did. The thought has your stomach churning. How far will they go? How far will Phil take things? Could he be merciful because of your history? Or will his ruined plan make him more ruthless? 

You’ll be punished for something you can’t control. 

Phil makes a soft sound as he looks at you, shaking with fear in the chair. “Don’t be scared. As long as your pack does as they’re told, I won’t have to hurt you.” He turns the light back to face you, nearly blinding you. “Now, smile for the camera.” 

They’re safe. 

It had been close. A rough position to be in, but they managed it. He never doubted them and their abilities, but four against nearly fifty with no backup were not good odds. He’s been in tighter places before, and while he had his doubts, he is grateful Johnny and Simon were sent in when they were. Even if it was a bit suspicious.

“All accounted for.” John says as he sinks down onto one of the jump seats next to Kyle. 

They’re all battered and bruised from their final fight. He’s ready to get home, ready to get back to you. From the sound of it, things were not going well, according to Johnny and Simon. He has a lot to make up for, a lot of apologies to make. 

“Fucking Russian PMCs.” He says, speaking to Kate over the comms. “It’s not a coincidence Kate.” 

Kate lets out a sigh that crackles through the comm. “No, it’s not. My team and I came across some information while we were digging into the cameras.” 

“What information?” He asks slowly and carefully. He doesn’t like being kept in the dark, especially when it comes to his pack. Especially when it comes to you. 

“Not just information on the initiative, but information on General Shepherd.” 

“What information?” He asks again, slower this time as Johnny and Simon move in closer. 

“Shepherd was the one that sold those weapons to AQ and the Russians.” 

John looks at the other three members of his team. He knew something was wrong, something was off about the way Shepherd had acted while informing them about this mission. “He wanted those missiles found and destroyed so he could cover his own ass.” He says, his stomach starting to twist. He doesn’t like the way this is going. 

“But we found out the truth before you could find all the missiles.” Kate continues. “He sent you on a wild goose chase to give himself a chance to escape.” 

John’s hand tightens into a fist. “Where is he now?” 

“He’s gone dark. Totally off radar.” 

John pushes himself up to stand, the adrenaline pumping again. “I’m going to find that bastard-” 

“John.” Kate says, cutting him off. “There’s something else.” 

The twisting in his stomach intensifies. There’s a bad feeling tickling in the back of his mind. He doesn’t want to entertain the dark thoughts that are brewing. “What?” 

“They took your omega.” 

His stomach clenches, his breath catching in his lungs. The other three shift on their feet, all of them stepping closer. The scent in the plane thickens, anger and confusion mixing into a toxic cocktail. He hopes he heard that wrong, that there was some kind of interference in the connection and his brain made up the words he missed. “Repeat that.” 

“They took your omega.” Kate says again.

He lets out a long breath, his muscles tensing. He’s had a bad feeling tickling in the back of his mind for the last few days. Something was wrong, something was off. He should have known it was all a ruse. Why would AQ and the Russians store a missile in any of the places they had been sent to in the last week? It hadn’t made sense, and he had wanted to voice his doubts, but the consequences of a missile being launched because they decided not to look in one place was greater than his own perceived doubts. 

They had been right though. 

Of course it had all been a plan. Of course there had been something fishy about it. He’s hardly ever wrong. He’s been praised on his instincts on the field and off. He should have known. Pulling Simon and Johnny when they did should have been enough evidence, even if they had been needed in the end. 

“You’re positive?” He knows she is. There’s no mistaking something like that, there’s no doubting it. 

“There’s a video.” Kate says, John’s stomach dropping. “I’m sending it to you now.” 

John pulls out his phone, his fingers white as he holds it up. He’s angry, beyond angry. If they’ve laid a hand on you...if you’ve been hurt because of his own failings, his own inability to see the truth...

He clicks on the video when it comes in, a familiar face popping up on screen. “Hi boys. Been a while.” 

“Fucking Graves.” Johnny growls, his hands closing into fists in anger. 

“I have a little something of yours I think you might be interested in.” He turns the camera around, your face popping up on screen. You’re restrained in a chair, wrists red from the zip ties, but there’s a glare on your face, looking as mean and threatening as you can. There’s a bruise on your cheek and what looks like a healing cut on your lip. Someone hit you. 

“Smile for the camera.” Graves says, a bit too cheerfully. 

You don’t smile, your glare sharpening as the camera gets closer to your face. There’s still fight left in you. Whatever has happened hasn’t been too bad. Yet. 

“Let’s make this simple.” Graves says. “You stay away from Shepherd, and I won’t have to hurt this pretty little face. She is pretty, isn’t she?” 

You shift in the chair, your leg lifting before you kick outward. 

“Ow, you little bitch.” The camera jostles for a moment before it’s straightened back up, a hand shooting out to wrap around your throat. There’s no sign of any struggle, the glare still prominent on your face. “Feisty thing. Gotta keep up with those wild boys somehow.” 

The hand tilts your face just slightly, showing the mark on your neck. It is you, not that John doubted that from the beginning. It may have been almost two months, but he wouldn’t forget your face that easily. 

“Like I said,” Graves continues. “Follow your orders and she’ll be released unharmed.” 

The screen goes dark and John resists the urge to throw his phone. He shoves it back into his pocket, turning towards the wall of the plane. He throws his fist against the metal as hard as he can. It hurts, but he can barely feel it over the rage burning hot in him. 

“Fucking Shepherd!” He shouts, rearing back to throw his hand against the wall again.

Graves has his omega. Graves has his omega and now you’re being used as leverage. They’re all being played like puppets. 

A hand catches his fist before he can punch the wall again, easing him back. “Easy.” Kyle says, trying to soothe him as best he can. “We have proof of life, we know that she’s alright for now.” 

“For now.” He growls, looking around at the members of his team. “But for how long?” 

“They knew we’d go after Shepherd as soon as we learned the truth.” Simon says. “This has been in the plans for a long time.”

“They’re trying to get us to make a choice. Focus on getting our omega back while letting Shepherd escape, or go after Shepherd and let our omega be tortured.” Kyle says. 

“Those fuckin’ wankstains.” Johnny says, shifting on his feet. He’s angry, the bitter scent filling the enclosed area of the plane. They’re all angry, angry at those responsible, and angry at themselves for falling for it. “They were usin’ us the whole time.” 

John lets out a long breath. It’s a hard decision to make. Go after Shepherd and cut the head off the snake, or go after you and let the person orchestrating all of this escape. Graves won’t stop, even if they do manage to take out Shepherd. He has his orders, and he will follow them, with or without Shepherd pulling the strings.

There might be a second contingency. They kill Shepherd, you die too. 

No matter what, you won’t be safe. If they go after you, Shepherd escapes and if they try to hunt him down later, he’ll use you again, or worse. They don’t have to kill Shepherd, though. They have proof he’s a traitor. He can be brought to justice if he’s caught. Death is too gentle of a punishment for what he’s done. He deserves to rot in prison for the rest of his life. 

They have to make sacrifices for the good of the world. 

“We’re going after Shepherd.” He says, taking a deep breath. “None of us will be safe if we don’t.” 

“That’s dangerous, John.” Kate says. “We don’t know how far Shepherd or Graves will take this. You know how Graves is. He may not be able to be stopped, even if Shepherd tells him to.” 

He takes a second to breathe. His pack is silent, all three of them staring at him, waiting for him to make this decision. He is pack alpha, he is their Captain. They do what he tells them to do, follow his orders no matter what. Kate is right, this is a risk, but sacrifices have to be made. Hands have to be dirtied to keep the world clean. 

He just hopes you’ll forgive him. 

“We’re going after Shepherd.” John says definitely. 

“This is a bad idea, John.” Kate warns him. 

“It’s the only option we have. They’re trying to draw us away. It’s a risk we have to take.” He can see the apprehension on his packmate’s faces. They’re all feeling it, the drive to go after their omega, but deep down he is right. They’ll never be safe until Shepherd is taken care of. Going after Graves only removes one small piece of the puzzle. The job always comes first. 

“Get us locations, places he might try to dig in and hide.” He says, heading towards the cockpit. “We’ll find this arsehole and kill him ourselves. 

***

Kate lets out a sigh as the comms close off. It’s a mistake. She knows it is. The guilt is eating her alive. She fell for this, she brought you into this, and now you might get hurt because of it. How she didn’t see the reality has shame burning through her. They were all blind, all led astray, all fooled by the red herring. 

There was never an initiative. It was never about strengthening packs. It was always about control. They wanted a way to control packs. Shepherd knew if the secret ever came out, there would be no stopping the consequences. Legal or illegal, retribution would come for him if the truth was revealed. 

This was his way of stopping it. 

That's why the 141 were the guinea pigs. 

They are the most dangerous threat to Shepherd, and he handed them a way to control them under the guise of strengthening packs, experimenting on how their dynamics and efficiency would shift with an omega added in. Even worse, they all fell for it. 

John is making a mistake. Graves won’t stop so long as Shepherd knows they’re coming after him. The last thing she wants is for you to get hurt because of their decisions, their mistakes. Shepherd won’t order Graves to kill you. That’s too much of a risk. It would give the 141 nothing to lose, and that would put them at their most dangerous. 

Will Graves listen to that order? 

She can send out a team to get eyes on Graves, find his position at least. That way, if things do take a turn, she’ll at least have a direction to point them in. 

They were all too trusting and ignorant. You’re innocent in all of this. 

It’s her fault. 

They’re going to need help. 

Christine can’t sit still anymore. She can't take it. It’s been almost eighteen hours since your disappearance and there’s been nothing. No word, no news. She knows you’re alive. Kate had confirmed that, but that hasn’t eased the burning questions eating away at her mind. What is your current state? Who took you and why? Where is your pack and are they even aware of what’s happening? 

She’s been sitting and twirling her thumbs. She can’t bring herself to do any paperwork, any research. What is there to do besides sit and worry? She doesn’t have a patient to take care of because she lost the one she was supposed to watch. 

She huffs out a breath, pulling her phone out of her pocket and dialing Kate. If Kate won’t call, she’ll call herself. Kate’s probably busy though, so Christine can’t blame her too much for not calling. She’s probably so far from the front of Kate’s mind right now. 

The phone rings twice before Kate answers, sounding tired and disheveled, just as much as Christine feels. 

“Laswell.”

“Kate, I need to be there.” She doesn't hold back, doesn’t try to make small talk. There’s no time for it. She knows how Kate is doing, and it’s not great. 

“Christine, I don’t know if I can take that risk.” She says. 

“I need to be there. I can't take sitting around here anymore, and when you find her, she’s going to need someone she knows there, someone that knows how to take care of her.” Christine lets out a breath, the relief of getting her thoughts out taking some of the weight off her shoulders. 

Kate sighs, but she has to know Christine is right. She’s not sure what state you’re in, and depending on how bad it is, and where your pack is, you’re going to need her. Even if you think she was behind this. “I’ll have a plane ready to go in thirty minutes.” 

“Thank you, Kate.” She says, letting out a sigh of relief. 

“Don’t miss the flight.” 

Christine hangs up, gathering a couple things from her office before closing and locking her door. She nearly runs to her barracks, packing a bag quickly. She’s not sure what to bring, or how long this will take. She’s not even sure exactly where she’s going. 

She hurries to the airfield, phone in hand. She’s not sure where the plane is or which one she’s taking. She’s just relieved Kate is doing this for her. 

Her phone buzzes as she reaches the tarmac, making her puse. She lets out an annoyed sigh before answering the call. 

“Of course you have to call at the worst possible moment.” She says. 

“I’ve always had the worst timing.” Alex’s voice comes through the speaker, and she can almost hear the smile on his face. 

“I can’t talk long. I’m about to board a plane.” She says. 

“I know. We’ll pick you up on the tarmac.” 

She blinks in surprise. It’s been years since she’s seen her brother, months since she’s spoken with him. Ever since he retired from Delta Force, his regular calls have been happening less and less, and they’ve reached near radio silence over the last couple years. Now he’s involved in this too? 

“Kate called in a favor.” He continues, and that’s all she needs to know. “We’ll see you in a few hours.” 

“Yeah.” She says, tears brimming in her eyes as she smiles. Despite everything, she’s glad she gets to see her brother again. Glad she has some support in this. Your pack will be mad. They’ll blame her. She’s not afraid of them, but she knows Alex will stand behind her no

**Content Warning: light torture, ‘mega gets punched, further injury to previous injuries, panic attack**

Your hands are starting to go numb. The constant attempts to free yourself from the zip ties isn’t helping, but you’re beginning to get twitchy. Your omega is scratching at the back of your mind, begging to be free, but you know you won’t survive it. The room is full of armed mercenaries, and you’re sure if you tried to take out Phil first, you’d be pumped full of bullets before you could even do any damage. 

He’s leaning against the wall far too casually, staring at the phone he’d used to record the first video of you. His explanation had been simple. Your pack stops going after General Shepherd, you don’t get hurt. The longer they chase Shepherd, the more Phil gets to torture you until they decide your life is worth more than Shepherd’s. 

Will they choose you over Shepherd? What if they’ve already decided to abandon you? What if your fears were right and they’ve given up, and that’s why they were gone so long? They won’t care what happens to you, if they have written you off as a burden, as a loss. They’ll let Phil torture you to death and they won’t even blink an eye. You’ll just be another casualty. 

It makes your stomach hurt, the idea of your pack letting you die. Even the idea of someone who had once been a friend of your family being so cold towards you has nausea bubbling in your belly. He doesn’t care. His only worry is money, not the past. He doesn’t care. He’ll do the bidding of whoever offers the highest price. 

He lets out a sigh, pocketing his phone as he pushes himself off of the wall. “Looks like your boys don’t follow orders well.” He bends down, putting his hands on his knees so he’s face to face with you. “They’ve decided to leave you here with me. Looks like Shepherd was wrong. They don’t really care about you as much as everyone thought they did. Makes me sad, them abandoning you so easily.” 

You try to ignore his words, try to convince yourself he’s doing it on purpose, trying to mentally break you. Yet you can’t deny those words play exactly into your doubts, your fears. Have they really left you here, choosing Shepherd over you? Would they decide to do that? How easy had that decision been made?  

Tears blur your vision as you stare up at Phil, your eyes burning as you try to put on the bravest face you can. You won’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing he’s getting to you, playing into your fears. 

“Unfortunately, that means I have to hurt you.” He stands up straight, staring down at you for a moment before pulling his fist back, hitting you across the face. 

You see stars for a moment, your head snapping to the side. The left side of your face is numb, the taste of metal flooding over your tongue. You’re bleeding, blood pooling in your mouth. A hand grips your chin, pulling you back so you’re sitting up straight in the chair. You stare up at Phil, the fear fading away to anger as you glare up at him. Your face is throbbing, and you know it’s going to swell and bruise later, more than it already has thanks to Corporal McKinney. 

Traitorous bastard. 

They all are. 

“I do feel bad for hurting that pretty face.” He says, stroking your jaw with his thumb. 

The movement is impulsive, the anger becoming too much. You spit the blood in your mouth in his face, the droplets splattering across his skin. He turns his head away for a moment, bringing his other hand up to wipe at the blood. 

“That wasn’t very nice.” He says, looking down at you. 

“Fuck you, you fucking creep!” You yell, kicking at him with your bad leg. 

He releases your face, catching your leg easily. He pushes his thumb against the bullet wound, all the fight leaving you as pain tears through your body. You let out a scream, trying to pull your leg away but he won’t let you. He holds his thumb there as you scream, the tears streaming down your face. 

“Okay, okay please! Please stop!” You beg, the pain radiating up into your hip and side. You can’t take it anymore, your brain starting to go fuzzy as you hyperventilate. 

He releases your leg, his hand wrapping around your throat to lift your face. The tears are streaming down your cheeks, mixing with the blood from the cut on your cheek. There’s no sympathy, not even regret in his eyes as he stares down at you. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, but if you can’t behave, I’ll have to do just that.” He releases you as you continue to hyperventilate, your eyes starting to glaze. You’re distressing. Will Phil help you? Will he do what he has to do to keep you alive? If you die, there won’t be anything stopping your pack. The entire plan will be over. They’ll go after Shepherd, then they’ll hunt down Phil. 

Cold ice water hits you in the face, shocking you back into clarity. Phil is holding the cup of water he’d been letting you drink from periodically. You blink at him as water drips into your eyes, your breaths hitching but far slower than they had been. You’re awake and aware now. 

You didn’t even know it was possible to do that. 

“Don’t distress on me now.” He says, putting the cup down. “We have so much ahead of us.” He moves around to the back of your chair, bending down until his breath hits your ear. “Besides, you make me help you out of distress, I might not be able to stop myself.” 

Your eyes pinch closed as his lips brush the shell of your ear before he stands back up, tears mixing with the icy water still sliding down your face. 

Christine nearly runs down the ramp once the plane has stopped on the runway. She’s jet lagged and worn out after eight hours of worrying, but she’s eager not only to finally get some news on you and your status, but to see her brother for the first time in a long time. 

It’s not hard to find him. 

“Chrissy!” He grins, hugging her tightly. 

She has half a mind to complain about the nickname she’d endured her entire childhood, but she can’t find it in her as she hugs her brother tightly. She’s missed him, more than she realized. Their jobs have kept them busy, her with her medical studies and practice, and Alex with...whatever it is he does. 

“It’s been far too long.” She says, pulling away from him. She’d love to stand there and hug him for an hour, but she can’t. They have more important things to do. Time is of the essence, if her worst fears are true. 

“A lot has happened, a lot has changed.” He says. 

She looks him over, spotting the more noticeable changes in comparison to the last time they were face to face. “You could say that.” 

“We can talk about it later.” He turns to the other person with him, a woman. “Christine, this is Farah.” He introduces her. “Farah, this is my baby sister Christine.” 

“Nice to meet you.” Farah says, shaking her hand. 

“You as well.” Christine looks between them for a moment. She knows that look in Alex’s eyes as he looks at Farah. 

“We should get moving.” Farah says, ignoring him. 

“Laswell has moved off the grid.” Alex says, opening the driver’s side of the SUV. 

Smart, if things are as bad as she thinks they are. 

Christine gets into the back, letting out a long breath. She’s closer now to finding out what’s happened to you. The guilt is still eating her alive. If she just hadn’t left, if she hadn’t believed the phone call, put it above your safety. 

Things might have been worse if she had stayed. 

“Kate filled us in about everything.” Alex says as he drives away from the airfield. “At least in regards to the pack and your involvement.” 

“There’s some things she’s not telling us.” Farah says. “Though if things are as bad as they sound, I don’t blame her.” 

“I don’t know much of anything.” Christine says, staring out the window as they drive out of the city. “I feel like it’s my fault. If I hadn’t left her alone...” 

“It’s hardly your fault.” Alex says, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. “If this was all planned, there wouldn’t have been anything that would stop it from happening.” 

“They might have done worse if you had stayed there.” Farah says, speaking Christine’s own fears aloud. 

“I wish I could see her. Make sure she’s alright.” Christine says. “If something happens to her...” 

“From what I hear she’s a hardy omega.” Alex says, trying to comfort her. “She’s withstood a lot. She can survive the 141, she’s probably giving them hell as we speak.” 

**Content Warnings: light torture, choking to the point of almost passing out, blood, very detailed descriptions of pain, non-fatal stabbing**

It’s getting hard to breathe. Phil’s grip around your throat is getting tighter and tighter, less and less oxygen getting to your bloodstream and your brain. Your mouth has an almost permanent metallic taste as blood drips down your chin. Blood stains Phil’s arm from where you bit him, teeth marks red and angry looking from where they broke the skin. 

“You fucking bitch.” He growls, jaw clenched. “Your alpha should have taught you some manners.” 

His hand squeezes tighter, cutting the air off entirely. You begin to panic, tugging against the restrains with your raw, cut up wrists. Black dots begin to dance in your vision, your legs straining against the zip ties keeping them attached to the chair. Your hands and feet are going numb, your entire body tingling. This is it. You’re going to be choked to death. 

He holds his hand there for a moment, letting you struggle before he lets go and you suck in a gasp of air. You slump over in the chair, blood splattering on the floor as you cough, your throat raw and sore. Tears burn in your eyes as you heave, trying to get the oxygen flowing through your body again. 

Phil bends down to your level as you sit there, head hanging as blood drips from your mouth. Your tongue is raw from how many times you’ve bitten it. It’s impossible to tell how much time has really passed. There’s no windows in the room. The only light source is the cracks around the door behind you. Even then with the bright light in your face constantly, it’s hard to tell anything anymore. 

“Feisty still, but everyone has their limits.” His hand cups your chin as he stands, lifting your face to follow him. His hand holds the back of your head up as he wipes at the blood under your nose and on your chin almost gently. 

Tears stream down your cheeks as you stare up at him, unable to even care anymore that his hand is so close to your neck. All he has to do is move it down just slightly and squeeze and you’ll be unaware of anything around you, at the mercy of his bidding. 

That would almost be a relief. 

He dumps another icy cup of water over your head, keeping you from slipping too much into a panic. The cold water stings the cut on your chest and the one on your arm as it slides down your shoulders. You’ve lost the ability to feel the throbbing in your calf, numb to most of the pain in your body. 

Why haven’t they come for you? Where is your pack? 

Have they written you off for good? Was finding Shepherd more important than you? 

Phil’s phone goes off, your stomach dropping. He stares at the screen for a second before turning back to you. 

You shake your head, the tears cascading down your cheeks. “No,” You start to shake. “No, please-” 

“You know I have to, darlin’.” He moves behind you, tugging on your hair to keep your head up as one of his men stands in front of you with a phone in hand. 

He counts down on his fingers before pressing record. 

“Seems you boys still can’t follow orders. Your omega sure wishes you would.” Phil says as he reaches around your head, holding your chin in his hand. He tilts your head back making you look up at him. “Don’t you, darlin’. Tell them. Tell them how much you wish they’d follow orders.” 

You’re still crying, unable to stop as you stare at the camera. They really have given up on you. They’ve deemed you unworthy of saving. They’ve let you sit here and be beat up and tortured all because they put the job first. 

They really have given up on you. 

Are they even watching? 

“Please,” You croak out, half begging your pack to care, half begging Phil to have mercy. 

“Since you can’t seem to bring yourselves to care about your own omega,” He shifts slightly, someone handing him something behind you. You catch a glint of metal, your heart rate picking up. You’re panicking, breaths coming in shaky gasps. You know he can do worse. He’s threatened worse, but what is he going to do? “It seems you need a little more...motivation.” 

You try to wiggle out of his grasp in panic, wrists bleeding again from tugging at the zip ties. They’re coated in your blood, your leg throbbing but you don’t care. You need to get away, get free. “No, no-”

You let out a scream. 

It’s sharp and piercing, but nowhere near the sharp pain in your neck. It fires through your very nerve endings, making you aware of the very cells in your body. It shoots up into your brain, igniting every neuron in your brain. Your very blood feels like it’s boiling, your skin on fire from the pain. Every inhale feels like you’re breathing in sand, and every exhale is like glass shards dragging through your lungs and up your throat. The tears streaming down your face may as well be slicing through layers of skin, every wound pulsing and throbbing with a new kind of angry vengeance. 

You’re sobbing, nearly choking on air as the pain continues to pulse in your body. It’s too much, every sensation inside and outside of your body meshing together in an agonizing harmony. 

“Shhh.” Phil tries to shush you as he bends down, his cheek resting against the side of your head. “I know, I know. You’ll be alright.” He presses a kiss to the side of your head before letting you go limp in the chair. 

Your scream still hangs in the air even after the video ends. 

It’s otherwise silent in the room, all eight of them feeling the weight of their decisions on their shoulders. The scents in the air are full of pain and regret and guilt and anger. 

“Was that fatal?” Kate asks, breaking the tense silence. 

“No.” Christine chokes out, her voice shaky. Her hands are trembling where they’re tucked against her sides. Her arms are crossed over her chest, trying to bring herself some kind of comfort after what she had just watched. “He went for the scent gland. It’s not a fatal injury, unless you go too deep, but he knew what he was doing.” She swallows the lump in her throat. “It’s just incredibly painful.” 

Her words hang in the air for a moment, all of them still trying to process what they had just seen. 

John slams his hands on the table, all of them jumping. “I fucking told you.” He says, his voice laced with the deep growl of his alpha. “I fucking told you Kate, she should have been flown out here as soon as you made the call.” 

“I know.” Kate says, undeterred by his anger. She’s seen it many times, though she’s rarely been on the receiving end of it. “I know, I made a bad call. None of us knew they would take it this far.” 

“But we knew something was going on behind the scenes.” John says, still radiating anger. “All precautions should have been taken.” 

“There was no guarantee her being here would have stopped them. She might not have been any safer here.” Kate says, trying to ease his anger, even though she knows it’s completely warranted. “This goes far deeper than we thought it did. Even before this plan was set into motion.” She waits a moment, letting the air settle. “A year ago, a convoy was smuggling missiles and other weapons into the Middle East in an off-the-books operation. The convoy was attacked and the missiles and arms were stolen by a Russian PMC group. The operation was conducted under the command of Shepherd, and the soldiers in the convoy were all Shadow Company.” 

“That’s how Graves is tied into this.” Kyle says. 

“It goes deeper than that.” Kate says, pulling up a file and displaying it on screen. “The missiles and weapons being smuggled weren’t being sent to aid allies in the Middle East. Shepherd sold them to AQ and the Russians. The PMC group that attacked Shadow Company was hired by Shepherd to make it look like an ambush.” 

“Fucking weasel.” Simon growls. 

“I don’t know how much Graves knows, or how much he helped hide the entire operation, but his ties to this go even deeper.” Kate says, and they all shift closer. “Graves has history with your omega.” She says, pulling up an old photo. “We combed through one of her brothers’ Facebook pages. Found an old photo of her dad with Graves. They served on the same base when her family lived in Texas before Graves left to join MARSOC. She would have still been a child at the time.” 

They stare at the photo, Graves clearly identifiable as he stands next to another man, beers in their hands. There’s two other boys in the photo, young and grinning at the camera. Standing in front of Graves is a little girl, a happy grin on her face. They’re all in various combinations of red, white, and blue. 

4th of July, they assume. 

“That’s how she got into the institute so fast.” John says, staring at the photo. He’s never seen a photo of your father before. You must take after your mother. “Graves pulled the strings.” 

Kate nods. “He did, but under the condition he would be the one to claim her when she grew old enough. The CIA wiped out that claim when they froze her file.” 

The 141 all shift on their feet, sharing looks. John feels a sick twisting in his stomach at the implications. Your position in the photo suddenly makes sense. Anger burns in him, deep and bubbling like magma. He’ll kill the bastard. 

“This is revenge then.” Johnny says. 

“In a way, I think.” Kate says. “We took away what he wanted. Graves wasn’t going to pass up this opportunity. He’s not afraid to get his hands dirty.” 

“This all is what the initiative was created for.” Christine says, leaning against the table. “A contingency in case this all was uncovered.” 

“A way to control us.” Kyle says. 

Kate nods. “Yes. It was all a plan to give the 141 a weakness, a way to be controlled should the situation arise. In this case it just so happened to be the uncovering of his traitorous arms deals.” 

“We were all pawns in this.” Christine says. 

“We let them walk right in and take control like that.” John says, turning to Christine. “You let them walk in and take our omega.” 

She turns to face him, undeterred by his agitation and anger. “I did what I thought was right at the time. I got a call from one of the front desk workers in the med center saying that someone was waiting in my office for me.” She explains. “They wouldn’t say who it was, and the whole thing felt off. I knew whoever would be visiting me was not going to be friendly, so I felt it was safer to leave her in the barracks than take her with me and risk something happening in a place she doesn’t know well. In the barracks at least she’d know places to hide and barricade herself.” 

She takes a deep breath, still facing down John fearlessly. He’s coiled tight like a spring, ready to jump at any moment should he deem it necessary. It’s those protective instincts, the knowledge that his omega is somewhere else, taken unwillingly and being tortured feeding into that need to fight. 

“My office door was open when I got there.” She continues. “I always leave it locked. I went in prepared to fight, but I was attacked from behind. Hit over the head and drugged with something fast acting, something that would keep me incapacitated long enough for him to strike.” She stares up into his eyes, projecting her scent just a bit to try and get him to calm down. “We all made mistakes here, things we thought were the right choice at the time.” 

She’s not wrong. They all know it. They had just seen proof of it.  

“The assailant?” John asks, turning back to Kate. 

“Corporal McKinney.” Kate says. “He was in Shepherd’s pocket from the start. Someone who could watch first-hand. Someone who could sneak into the barracks unnoticed without many questions. He was likely the one that put the cameras up.” 

“Fucking wanker.” Simon growls. “He approached her once in the mess. Early on. Tried to introduce himself to her. Backed off as soon as I intervened. Never tried again, at least that we know of.” 

“She never mentioned him.” Christine says. “Or anyone else on base that might have tried to approach her.” 

“Where is he now?” Kyle asks. They’re all angry, frustrated. How had they not seen this happening? 

“Local police tracked his car to an abandoned airfield not far outside of Hereford.” Kate says. “He was dead inside. Police ruled it suicide.” 

“I’m sure it was.” John says. 

They all know it wasn’t. 

“Shadow Company likely picked her up from there with orders to stage a suicide.” Kate says. 

“One less loose string to worry about.” Simon says. “Covers their tracks in England.” 

They all go quiet. How this had all happened right under their noses? They’re all guilty of falling for it, for being too trusting in a world they know they can’t be too careful in. Allies can turn on a dime and become enemies. Betrayals can be easily bought. Things can turn downhill within a blink of an eye. They’re supposed to be prepared for the worst, ready for every possibility. 

They had written this off as a conspiracy, and now their omega is paying for it. 

“We need a plan.” Farah says, breaking the silence. 

“We can’t let Shepherd get away.” John says. 

“We cannae just leave her.” Johnny argues against his alpha. It’s a brave thing, considering his alpha’s current mental state.  

“I don’t know how much more she can take.” Simon backs his beta up, the desperation and pain on your face still visible in all of their minds. 

“Let us go after Shepherd.” Alex says, offering up a solution. “He’s obviously watching for you to come after him.” 

“We can move undetected.” Farah agrees. “He’s less likely to expect us. You need to focus on your omega. Shepherd will show himself again eventually.” 

“Do we have a lead on their location?” Kyle asks, turning back to Kate. 

She nods. “We do now. I sent a team out to try and track location through the videos and where they were being sent from.” She pulls a map up on screen. “We have a location.” 

“Texas.” Alex says. 

“He took her home.” Christine says. 

“We have a plan then. We go after Graves, Farah and Alex start tracking Shepherd. Kate is eyes in the sky for us.” John says. 

“She’s going to need medical attention as soon as possible.” Christine says. She looks at Kate. “Where is the nearest military base from their location?” 

Kate types on her computer. “Naval Air Station Joint Reserve Base in Fort Worth.” 

“Get me there and I’ll be waiting. She’s going to need someone she knows.” She says, looking at John. “She’s not going to just let anyone close to her after this. She may not even let you close.” 

John stares down at her for a long moment. She stares back unflinchingly. She doesn’t get intimidated easily, not after years of dealing with institutes and alphas alike. 

He lets out a breath, staring down at her for a long moment before he nods. “I trust you.” 

“Short reunion this time.” 

“I’m just glad I got to see your face again.” Christine says, looking up at Alex. 

“Things are...complicated.” He says. “Maybe after all of this is over we can go and get some coffee. Talk about our lives...as much as we can.” 

The corner of her mouth twitches up in a smile. “I’ll hold you to that.” 

Alex pulls her into a hug, holding her tightly. “You’re doing good work, Chrissy.” 

She shakes her head at the nickname, but she holds him just as tightly. “I’m trying to.” 

Alex pulls away, squeezing her arms. “I’d say you are. You care a lot. To the point some might call it a character defect.” 

She scoffs, slapping his chest playfully. “Not like you’re much better.” She glances at the car where Farah is waiting patiently. “I’m happy for you.” 

“Oh, we’re....” Alex blushes to his ears. “We’re not...” 

She gives him a look. “Mhm sure.” She looks up at him one more time. “Be safe.” 

“As best I can.” He says. “Take care of yourself. Don’t be too hard on yourself either.” 

“I try not to be.” She squeezes his hand before stepping away. 

She watches the SUV drive off, stomach churning with nerves for both of them. Shepherd is dangerous, but Alex has fearlessly faced down danger since he was a kid. He’s always been brave and determined, loyal and unafraid to do what he thinks is right no matter what. She trusts him to take care of himself, she trusts Farah to help him, even if she only met the woman today. 

She trusts them both to take care of each other. She trusts them both to help put an end to this. 

**Content Warning: Blood, vomiting, 'mega forces herself into a panic attack**

Your body aches, muscles screaming. You can’t take much more. Your cheek throbs painfully, swollen to the point you almost can’t see out of your left eye. The pain burning from your neck makes the other pain in your body nearly irrelevant, nearly nonexistent. It’s like electricity, burning through your very cells. Every movement seems to make it flare, makes the electric shock jolt through you. The burning pain that follows makes you whimper, a pathetic choking sound squeaking out from your bruised throat. 

The pain makes you nauseous, vomit staining the front of your shirt and pants. It’s mostly bile and the little food you’ve gotten since your kidnapping. 

Nutrient bars, meant to keep you fed and nourished for a short period of time. 

You may never be able to eat them again. 

“Fuck.” Graves curses, staring at his phone. “They’ve backed off.” He steps up to you, looking down on your pathetic form. “Looks like your boys do care about you after all.” 

Do they? Are they really coming for you, or have they simply given up chasing Shepherd because they lost all their leads. Will they come for you, or will they leave you here to rot? What will Graves do then? Try to take you as his own omega? Kill you out of anger? 

Your stomach churns and you can feel the bile rising. 

You vomit again, the warm liquid splashing into your lap. You can’t lean far enough anymore, not without the risk of not being able to pull yourself back up, not with the pain burning your every movement. You can’t even lift your head anymore, your body weak and battered and bruised. There’s blood everywhere, on you and on the floor. You can still taste it in your mouth, mixing with the sourness of bile. 

Graves gives you a disgusted look before turning to the others in the room. “Duran, Lewis, keep watch. The rest of you come with me.” 

He leaves the room for the first time in what you assume is days. For once the cocktail of scents begins to disperse, all but two of the alphas finally disappearing. Where they’re going or what they’re going to do, you don’t know. You can’t bring yourself to care either way. You just want to go home. You want to see your mother again, your brothers and sisters, even your father would be a welcome sight after this. You want your alpha, you want him to hold you, to take you in his arms, keep you safe.

He abandoned you. He left you to suffer like this. 

Your breathing picks up as you sit there, chin to chest as you stare at your bloody shirt. The smells in the room are awful, the scents no longer there to block out the sour bile and metallic stench blood. Tears are streaming down your cheeks, pink tinted splatters dripping onto your pants. What are you going to do now? What are they going to do to you now? Will they keep you alive long enough for your pack to arrive then kill you in front of them? Will they torture them too, make them watch as the life slowly leaves your eyes in revenge for chasing after Shepherd? 

A sob rips through your sore throat up out of your lips. 

You just want to go home. 

You just want to be free. 

You can be. 

Distress. The final defense. The last ditch effort omegas have to save themselves. Distress will lead to your omega taking over, and if nothing else, a quiet death you won’t even realize is happening. Your body will give out and you’ll be safely tucked into the back of your brain, comforted by your instincts. You won’t have to worry anymore. You won’t have to care. 

If nothing else, the pain will be over. 

I’m sorry. 

You begin to breathe heavier, ignoring the pain in your body as you push yourself to hyperventilate. The alphas behind you might do something, might try to stop it. They could, but would they even know how? Would it even work if you got too far? They’re not your alpha. They can’t comfort you, bring you back from the edge without forcing you. Will they even bother? 

You tilt your head to the side, putting pressure on your injured scent gland. You sob at the pain, the burning flowing straight into your very cells, making them scream. You push through it, your wrists twisting against the zip ties, digging them further into your already damaged wrists. The pain pushes you to a point of panic, your heart rate through the roof. You can feel it, the tightening of your muscles, your joints locking into place. 

You’ve never done it purposefully before, but in this state, it’s not hard. 

They left you. They’ve abandoned you. They’ve given up. It’s all your fault they left. They’re not coming for you. You’re not worth it. 

The thoughts send you down the spiral, the edges of your vision starting to go dark. You’re floating away, hands and feet going numb as your wheezing, shallow breaths block the oxygen from getting to your brain. You’re sinking, your body floating as you begin to retreat into the back of your mind. The cage is open, your omega soothing you as you drift off, curling up in the back recesses of your mind. 

You’re safe now. She whispers. 

There’s no going back. 

You’re going to get out. 

Even if you have to do it yourself. 

The last breath you remember taking is shaky, making you cough before your vision begins to fade to grey, then to black. You’re getting out of here no matter what. You’re going to go to sleep. If you fail, you’ll never know it. Your death will be quick and gentle and you’ll never know it happened until you’ve moved on to whatever is next. 

You won’t remember any of this. That’s your only consolation. 

Your vision fades to black as all memory and awareness leaves you. The last thing you remember is the snap of the zip ties around your wrists as they break. 

“Graves has moved with some of his men to the western building. It’s likely the hostage is being held in the eastern building. Gaz and I will go after Graves. Ghost and Soap will try to secure the hostage.” 

“Keller is on her way to NAS JRB as we speak. They’re on standby for medevac.” 

“Stealth is our priority. They know we’re here, we risk losing the hostage. Quick and quiet, take them by surprise. The faster we do this, the sooner it will all be over.” 

**Content Warning: blood and slight gore, someone gets shot offscreen, some gorey and explicit imagery towards the end**

He’s not unfamiliar with high stakes missions. It’s his specialty. He’s cool and calm under stress and pressure, which is why he gets chosen for them. He can detach easily, get the job done and then go home and forget. 

So why are his hands shaking? 

This isn’t a high stakes mission, not like one he’s used to doing. The stakes are higher, higher than he’s ever had before. It’s not just eliminating some faceless target, it’s not just rescuing some faceless hostage. 

It’s rescuing you. 

He hates that you were involved in all of this. He hates that they all fell for it, blind to the truth, blind to Shepherd’s traitorous actions. They refused to entertain those conspiratorial thoughts, and now you’re paying for it. He knows why Price made the decision he did, he understands the logic behind it. 

He hated it, though. 

How far would Graves have taken it if they had chosen to go after you first. Would things have gotten this bad? Or would he still have hurt you, tortured you just out of sheer anger for what happened between the two of you? He wouldn’t give up just because Shepherd told him to stop. He’s ruthless and uncaring of who he hurts and why. He gets his orders and he completes them, no matter what, so long as whoever is giving those orders can pay a high enough price. 

How much did he get for this assignment? How much did he settle for once he learned you were involved? 

Far too much despite that fact, most likely. Maybe he should become a merc. Less rules and more money.

It’s not a bad idea. 

He lasers his focus on the building as they creep through the trees, moving silently. Two against however many are inside. It was impossible to tell with how many were moving between the two buildings constantly. 

He brought the whole squad. He planned on putting up a fight regardless. 

At least they have the element of surprise on their hands. 

“We move silently through the building.” He says as they approach the door. There’s two guards standing outside. “They know we’re inside, things could go downhill quickly.” 

“On you, LT.” Johnny says, taking point beside him. 

“Drop one, I’ll take the other.” He says, aiming at one of the two Shadows guarding the door. 

It’s quick and quiet, their bodies slumping onto the damp dirt. Simon scans the area before moving forward to the door. It’s unlocked, Johnny pushing it open slowly to check for a trip wire. 

None. 

Sloppy, or perhaps on purpose. They can’t be too careful. Shepherd will have let Graves know they’re not on his trail anymore. He’ll be expecting them. 

They split up, combing the bottom floor of the building. He takes out two more Shadows, checking every room for a sign of their target, but they find none. 

“Second floor.” He says, waiting at the base of the stairwell for Johnny to join him. 

“You think she’s in here?” Johnny asks as they creep up the stairs, careful not to make too much noise. 

“Well, we’ll find out.” 

It’s far too unguarded to where they’re holding you. Graves will have assumed they’d split up. He must have moved most of his men to the western building to put up as much of a barricade as possible. He can picture Graves standing there, the smirk on his face as he holds a gun to your head. Will he take that risk, shoot you in front of them and give them nothing to live for? Or will he use a knife, letting you die a slow, painful death in front of them? 

Or, maybe he moved them to the western building to make them think that’s where you are. Focus their attacks there so they leave you behind. He gets cornered, he send the word to kill you before any of them can get to you. 

More red herrings. 

He pauses before he reaches the top of the steps, taking out the shadow standing down the hallway. They split up again, looking through rooms at the top of the stairs, making their way down the hallway. 

One of the doors is open, and he silently motions for Johnny. He counts down silently in his head before rounding the corner, rifle up as he scans the room. His stomach churns as he looks inside, taking a couple cautious steps forward. He’s seen a lot of things in his time, done a lot of things, but this is different. 

“Screaming Jesus.” Johnny says, lowering his rifle as he steps in behind Simon. 

There’s blood everywhere. 

It’s coating the floors, leaving a sticky residue as it dries. It’s the room you were in. He recognizes it from the video, and the bright light in the corner is a dead giveaway. The chair in the middle of the room has been broken, the wood of the arms snapped off and splintered. There’s four bloody zip ties on the floor, along with several instruments on the floor including the ice pick. 

He wants to shove that into Graves’ eye for what he did to you. 

There’s two bodies on the floor, one of them dead in a pool of his own blood, the other choking as blood seeps onto the floor under him. He steps up to the shadow, putting his boot on his chest and pushing. The Shadow lets out a groan, coughing up blood. 

“Where the fuck is she?” He growls, staring down at the quickly paling face. 

“Fucking bitch went crazy.” He chokes out. “Went running.” 

Simon steps back, pulling out his handgun and firing two bullets into the Shadow’s head. 

“Price, we found the room.” He says into his comm. “The hostage isn’t here. A half-dead Shadow said she bolted.” 

“LT.” Johnny says, motioning to the door, the only other exit from the room. There’s a bloody handprint on the door, one too small to be one of the Shadows’. 

“I think she managed to get out.” He says, staring at the handprint. His stomach drops, his hand tightening around his rifle. He glances down at the bodies, throats cut and faces bloody. “I think her omega took over.” 

“You and Soap go after her. She’ll do the one thing she knows to do, the one instinctual thing she can do if she has nothing to fight.” Price says. “We’ve got Graves cornered.” 

Simon pushes the door open, cool air flowing into the stuffy room. There’s bloody shoe prints heading down the stairs. He can see the rapid turn on the concrete below before they head off towards the trees. 

“I’ve got a trail.” He says. 

“Go.” Price says. “Simon...you know what you have to do.” 

He does.

He motions for Johnny to follow before hurrying down the stairs. The longer they delay, the further you’ll get. He doesn’t doubt some Shadows followed you if you made that much of a ruckus. The more time they waste, the more dangerous things get, and not just because they might lose you or the shadows might catch up. 

He races towards the treeline, rifle in hand, but there’s no one else standing guard. Price and Gaz will have taken care of those in the other building, and those that were outside probably went after you. 

He slows once they break the treeline, trying to catch any hint of your scent that might be left. His only hope is that you’ve left a trail. He’s a tracker, he knows what he’s doing. His senses are stronger, more in tune. He can find you. He can track you down. He has to. 

The guilt is eating him alive. If something happens to you, he’ll never forgive himself. He’s right here, so close and yet so far. You’re running on borrowed time and there’s only so much of it left. Eventually you have to slow, eventually your body will start giving up. Will it be too late then? If a Shadow finds you when you can’t fight back...

“Dead Shadow ahead.” Johnny says, motioning to the slumped over body ahead of them. “We’re on the trail.” 

“Let’s hope she left more markers on the way.” He says, kicking the Shadow, but the stab wound in his neck is all Simon needs to know. “Keep going straight.” He says, continuing on the path they’ve been following. He needs just a whiff, a hint of your scent. Something. 

They come across another dead Shadow, this one off to the side of the path they had been following. He turns, making an adjustment before moving forward. Johnny keeps close, both of them watching for more Shadows, or for any glimpse of you. All they can hope is they’re on the right path. 

He nearly sets off in a run as he hears a sound ahead. It’s a yowl, almost like a mountain lion. It sends a tingle down his back, his alpha blaring warning alarms. A threatened omega is a dangerous thing. Fierce and protective of themselves, capable of great feats and lethal if you get too close. 

It’s you, no doubt. 

Price had been right. 

He has no choice. 

He pushes forward, his steps quick as he makes his way through the bushes. He spots you near a boulder, trying to fight off a Shadow. He’s got the upper hand, using his size against you. You’re getting tired, your movements slowing. Simon aims with his rifle, a shot to the head dropping the Shadow. You drop into a crouch, surveying the trees. You’re covered in blood, a knife in your hand as your wild eyes search for them. 

“Distract her.” He says to Johnny. “Make yourself as unthreatening as possible. I’ll go around and get her from behind.” 

He doesn’t even wait for an acknowledgement before he’s moving, slipping around to the side of the boulder. Johnny steps into the clearing slowly, holding his hands up, talking to you quietly.

“Easy, kitten. Ye know who I am.” Johnny is careful not to get too close, his steps slow as he moves to the side, getting you to turn. “We’re just here to help ye. Get ye home and safe.” 

You’re holding the knife up, brandishing it at Johnny. Simon isn’t sure if you’ve ever thrown a knife before, but he doesn’t put it past you to try in this state. 

He hopes Johnny’s reflexes are fast enough. 

He slips out from behind the boulder as you pause, wasting no time as he races up behind you and grabbing you before you can bolt or go for Johnny’s neck. You let out another yowl, struggling against him as he wraps an arm around your chest. Your teeth sink into his arm and he lets out a curse, but he doesn’t let go. He lets go, they won’t get another chance. It’ll be too late. 

He doesn't want to do it. His mind flashes back to his father and mother, one of the few times his mother fought back. It hadn’t lasted long before her body went limp, practically a ragdoll in his father’s hold. Simon had grabbed Tommy and ran, barricading them in his room. They didn’t want to see what was going to happen next. 

He doesn’t want that kind of control over you, he doesn’t want to put you through that trauma. The disorientation, the fear, the confusion. That must have been what it felt like after being sedated during your heat. You had been sick for days, crying in Johnny’s room. He had heard every sob, every attempt to soothe you. 

He put you through that. He made you face that down despite the fear on your face as Johnny escorted you to the med center. 

And now he has to do it again. 

He has to this time. He has no choice. His only other option is to let you die. Price will never forgive him. Johnny won’t even look at him again. He’d betray them worse than you did, worse than Shepherd, worse than Graves. 

You never really betrayed them in the first place, though. 

You were afraid, untrusting of them, unsure because of your past. He had been foolish to blame you, foolish to think it was somehow your fault. You acted out of fear, out of terror. How you must have felt in those moments when that beta showed up, when you faced down Shepherd alone, when you returned to find your space invaded and those cameras all over your room. They weren’t there to protect you, they weren’t there to support you. They left you alone and you hid it from them because you didn’t know any better, because you were so afraid. 

He’s a goddamn fucking prick he’s been. 

Tears blur his vision as he tucks his free arm behind you, shifting your position just enough so he can get his hand around the back of your neck. You kick out with your legs, releasing his arm, your head tilting back in a last ditch, instinctual effort to protect yourself. 

His eyes squeeze closed as you let out a yelp, his fingers digging into the back of your neck. It’s hard enough it will leave a bruise, but he has to be sure. It’s the only thing that might save you. It’s his only option, his only chance to keep you alive. 

“There you go.” He says quietly into your ear. “Need you to relax for me.” 

Your body goes limp in his hold, head resting back against his hand as he holds you there. Your muscles twitch as the tension leaves you, eyelids fluttering before they close. His arm stings where your teeth had sunk into his skin, hard enough to draw blood, but he doesn’t care. 

“Keep resting.” He says, easing his hand from the back of your neck as he shifts you in his arms. “Gonna get you somewhere safe.” 

You’re like a ragdoll in his arms as he lifts you up, cradling you against his chest. You’re warm, hair sticking to your forehead. 

“Call it in.” He tells Johnny, his eyes still glued to your face. “We need that medevac now.” 

“Price, we got her.” Johnny says into his comm. “We need medevac stat.” 

You look so peaceful despite the blood soaking your body. Partially yours, partially the Shadows you killed in your escape. You look like a gruesome painting, a gorey depiction of an omega pushed too far. Something they’d put on display in a museum, a photo that would win prizes in celebration of such a natural state caught on camera. It would be circulated for decades, something talked about centuries from now. 

A raw view of humanity’s inner beasts. 

He can’t stand it, seeing you like this. They did this to you. They are the reason you’re like this. They made the bad call in the end, they put you through this. You won’t forgive them, not after everything. You went weeks without them, without a word and then this happened. Innocence tainted in the blood of the guilty. The bloodstained omega held in the arms of the blood-tainted alpha. He should be the one covered in their blood. He should be the one carrying the weight of torture and desperation on his shoulders. 

The guardian dog covered in blood in the name of protecting his innocent sheep. 

How he’s failed you. How they all failed you. 

He pushes past the pain, past the grief, past the guilt and the horror of what they did to you, what they put you through. 

They’ve got you back. You’re safe. 

It’s over. 

NEXT ->

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[paarksunghoon]

what about childhood best friend hoon who has always seen you as the sweet and innocent kind until he accidentally stumbles upon your dirty mind and fantasies

this just did something to me

***

“What the fuck?!”

“Sunghoon!” your cheeks and neck feel like they’ve been set on fire. You mumble a quick apology and goodbye into your phone and end the call. “What the hell are you doing in my apartment?”

“Your mom said you’d be home and I just got back into town.” He looks at you, frowning.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Sunghoon steps through the threshold of your bedroom wearing a black muscle tank and sweatpants. It’s a bit unfair how beautiful your best friend is with perfect biceps and an abdomen that can be seen through the fabric of his tank top. Sunghoon doesn’t have to try that hard and people will still fawn over him.

He looks at you like he’s seen a ghost. You see his duffle bag still in his hand but his grip seems to loosen the longer he looks at you. Sunghoon gulps and hesitantly takes a step inside of your room.

“You…I overheard you talking.”

“Why did you talk to my mom before coming come?” You ask, deflecting Sunghoon’s words in an attempt to pretend he heard nothing. “Did you drive home from school? Why is my apartment the first place you go to instead of your parents’ house?”

“Y/N.” Sunghoon’s throat feels a little too dry.

“You’re awful for not texting me before coming over.” He watches you turn around and put your phone on your table. “Anyway, how was your drive?”

Sunghoon drops his duffle bag. “I thought you were a virgin.”

You sputter. “A-A virgin? Why in the world would you think that?”

A part of you already knows this answer. Unlike you, Sunghoon’s not afraid to talk to you about his sex life and started hooking up with girls the second he left for college. He told you he lost his virginity the second he got home and updates you every so often about his sexual escapades, though not in great detail. He doesn’t press on about your sex and you don’t make it a point to bring it up because you aren’t as shameless as him.

The two of you don’t really have the dynamic where talking about sex is on the table. Or rather, he’s more open to the idea and doesn’t pry any information out of you because you’d shot him down when he asked about your virginity before you had sex for the first time. Sunghoon, for the fear of making you uncomfortable and losing his best friend, kept his mouth shut and generally always thought of you as a pretty innocent person.

You get a bit warm in the face when a sex scene in a movie comes on or whenever he plays songs that have sexual undertones to them in his car. Sunghoon has always thought you were a bit on the innocent side and figures the farthest you’ve ever gone was kissing Lee Heeseung in the eleventh grade.

But right now, his perception of you is distorted. Upon coming over after your mother told him where the spare key was, Sunghoon stood outside hoping to surprise you when he overhead you talking to your friend about a recent hookup.

“No amount of porn or book smut could really describe the feeling of a guy cumming inside of you. I had to practically beg him to take the condom off because he was worried it would be risky. But I’m on the pill so he agreed and fuck, it felt so good.”

He stands there, dumbfounded by the revaluation but can’t stop picturing you with your legs spread open for him on the bed next to you like he has for the past few weeks. Sunghoon’s face is red, no doubt.

“You’re looking at me funny.”

He whips his head to look at you. “I’m not acting funny. You’re acting funny.” Sunghoon watches you scoff and get up from your desk.

“I don’t know why you’re surprised that I fuck, Hoon.”

He sputters. “I don’t think about it.” That’s a lie.

“You don’t have to.” You shrug it off like it’s no big deal. “Do you use condoms?” Sunghoon chokes.

“No.”

Your wicked grin makes his cock jump.

“Me either.”

***

comments and reblogs are appreciated! xx

[reshinless]

──── see me, see me not

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ synopsis. in which kinich takes his headwear off, and puts it on you (in a different way)

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ pairings. kinich x gn!afab!reader,!!NSFW CONTENT AHEAD!!

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ director's notice. i have a feeling he would not gonna lie :pray:

"p- please.. kin- t'fast.." is all you could whimper out as kinich swallowed at the sight of your pretty body being used- slamming himself into your red, puffy hole from behind. each heavenly thrust only making you throw your head back in everlasting pleasure

both your breathy moans filled the space you both stayed in- kinich who just groans your name, the red bow-like marks made from his nails as he left a breathy gasp, almost like catching his breath still. his stares at how well your entrance took him drove him frantic.

"oh f-fffuck.." is all you could hear, kinich's headwear comfortably over your eyes— the beads of sweat on both your forehead's scent only brimming the room. feeling a pair of two fingers come to your mouth- "suck." a raspy voice emits from behind you.

kinich who overhears mualani stepping into the lobby outside the small room he unconveniently chose. "kinich! where are you?!" is heard visibly throughout the halls as he holds your hips close, pushing you up against the wall from your previous position of simply bending over and taking his cock :o

"quiet, baby." is all you hear, kinich who still won't take the blindfold off of your eyes, yet he just oh-so accidently grinds his cock against your g-spot. his fingers in your mouth, as you bite down on them a little as he tries to keep your volume to a minimum while still giving you as much pleasure as possible.

your heart raced as mualani reached for the knob of the door before someone from outside called her for help, making her leave effectively. kinich who loved the adrenaline of almost being caught, only letting the moans escape your glossy lips as he finally released his fingers from your mouth— "ahh— shit sweetheart, that's right.. ssshitt..." he groaned from behind.

the way you start to clench around him with his merciless thrust keeping its pace, oh he's gonna cum in you. whining as you feel him changing the position again, this time to his favorite- missionary.

wherein he secures your thighs around his waist, his strength keeping you up on the wall, you can hear each little squelch, every little plop. "yeeaahh.. that's right, pretty." hearing your wails of pleasure, leaning down to mark you around your collarbone as he kept up the violent strikes, watching the way you fumble your hands anywhere you could, not being able to see what he was doing, you're so pretty, he wished you could see that for yourself.

"uhuh? ffuck.. yeah you gonna come baby?" his teasing tone into the shell of your ear, feeling his warm breath on your neck sent shivers down your spine, your hips quavered at his actions, you were already starting to see stars.

the way he hit you so raw, you feel as if you'll be snapped in half soon, his tight grip on your waist, and securing your legs to attach his torso, if he doesn't slow down you might just crack! the insane amount of stamina you gain after working as a hunter for so long definitely is a ton. drilling his cock into you, feeling every inch inside of you, every vein come in and out.

he huffs "shit you feel.. s' good pretty.. so fffuckin' good.." —you can smell every detail on him, the floral smell he always has on that he promises isn't on purpose, mixed with the moist, and musky scent of your swear (& his).

kinich, with a long groan, "just one more, baby.. just one moreee.." who's been saying that for the past 3 hours, but who can blame him when he just can't get enough of you. cumming inside you for about the fifth time already! who wouldn't cum with the way you clench down onto his cock with your velvety entrance, or the way you'd scratch at his back (after finally finding where he was), claw marks that looks of a beast. who wouldn't cum, seeing how much your entrance was talking to him, luring him in, so wet and ready for him, you were practically made for him, and his cock.

how many times has he emptied himself into you? can't count. how many times have you come on his dick alone? can't count either. how many hours has it been? stop asking me questions!

watching the way your back arched as you moaned out his name, the way you legs shivered, the intense heavenly feeling of getting to cum with you was more passionate than anything he's done in the past. he hadn't even realized the way your juices squirted everywhere!

"huh.. that's the first time i've seen you do that."

...

"wanna do that again?"

kinich weapon alert !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (i have no resin sighh)

[cherriesncinnamon]

forgive me / father charlie x fem!reader

synopsis: after recently becoming involved with the catholic church, you soon start having inappropriate fantasies about your priest. desperately wanting to atone, you confess your sins.

warnings/tags: handjob, unprotected sex (don't try this at home), mentions of self harm/repentance, priest x reader (i mean no harm to the catholic community, this is just fiction).

word count: 1.3k.

a/n: sooooo🥰 i'm obsessed with nicholas chavez. i'm not gonna lie, i haven't seen grotesquerie fully, but after seeing his scenes i had to write a one shot about father charlie. this is completely and utterly feral. me when i need him biblically.

link to another father charlie piece i've done due to popular demand!!

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

I've never been a religious person. I've always believed that a higher power is unprovable, leading to my agnosticism. My mother is a devout Catholic, but she's never particularly pushed her beliefs onto me. That was until recently when she threatened to disown me if I refused to come to church for another Sunday.

The people are insufferable, the sermons are unstimulating, and I cannot bear knowing I could be doing something much more exciting with my morning. I sit at the very end of the pew, arms crossed in anguish, awaiting a middle aged, balding priest to appear and preach for an hour. But to my surprise, a much younger version emerges instead. Dark thick hair, darling brown eyes, and a charming smile. My eyes widen with intrigue at the strikingly handsome man before me. He begins to speak, walking up and down the rows of people, truly passionate about what he's saying. I'm paying attention to the words, but not so much the message. After the communion and the drinking of the wine, my mother and I mingle for a bit, chatting uselessness to the bored housewives. Church is the only liberating part of their week, and now I know why.

As if by a miracle of God, I become Catholic overnight. My mother is shocked at my interest in coming to church the following week, and the week after that, and that week after that. Each time I see him, my desire intensifies. Knowing that he has taken a vow of celibacy only entices me more. I imagine him bending me over the pews, his singular ring leaving an indent in my upper thigh. I need to confess. I need to release this demon that is plaguing my thoughts.

On a stormy Friday evening, I make my way to the back of the church, placing three hesitant knocks on his office door. The rest of the building is vacant, candle light being my only source of sight. His voices seeps through the door, permitting me to enter.

"Ah, Miss Y/L/N, to what do I owe the pleasure?" He welcomes me in with a warm smile, putting down the pen he was holding to usher me to sit.

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. I- I've come to confess." I swallow, stuttering my words in fear. Father Charlie cocks his head in question.

"I see. Anything you say should be in confidence, your confession will be safe with me." He replies, nodding in reassurance. I fiddle with the hem of my skirt in anticipation, heat rising to my cheeks from simply being alone with him. I drape my long hair over my shoulder and clear my throat.

"I've been having impure thoughts, Father."

"Okay. And what do these thoughts detail?" He probes, clasping his hands together on the wooden desk. The Bible sits closed next to him; I can feel it judging me.

"Sexual thoughts. I want to pleasure myself, but I know I can't." I grip at my throat which has become tight, my stomach tingling with the remembrance of my fantasies. Charlie loosens his Roman collar, eyes searching the room for anything to look at besides me.

"I think about you, Father. You punishing me for my sins, taking me, sliding yourself into me." I spill, cheeks on fire and wine red. Father Charlie is quick to stand up from his chair, pacing to the other side of the room.

"I have taken a vow. Please do not seduce me." He begs, reaching for the door handle.

I stand in front of him, his tall frame towering over me, eyes fixated on mine. His chest is heaving, lips slightly parted as he breathes. Standing on the tips of my toes, I whisper.

"Don't you want to know what it feels like, Father? Just once?" My bottom lip lightly grazes his ear lobe, increasing his breathing pace. Our faces are mere centimetres apart, and I'm using all of my might to stop myself tasting him.

"I cannot abandon my faith, I mustn't." He insists, expression pained and frustrated. His brow is furrowed, forehead glazed in sweat. I can tell he is holding himself back with all his strength, and I'm feeling brave.

I take my fingertips and slide them over his clothed cock, smiling as it hardens under my gentle touch. Charlie goes to remove my hand, but quickly retracts when I speed up, using my palm to add pressure. I slowly undo his leather belt, lifting the waistband of his black pants. Taking him in my grasp, I stroke his thick length, watching in euphoria as his head tips back in bliss. His hands seek the stability of the doorframe for support, his knees weakening more every second.

"Feel me." Slipping my panties to the side, I guide his fingers to my pussy, slick with my arousal, begging for contact.

"Oh, forgive me Lord." He cries out, teasing my entrance with his digits while I excite his tip dripping pre-cum with my thumb. He stares at me in awe when I lick myself off his fingers, cock throbbing, veins pulsing blood into him until he's unbearably hard.

Hungry for my kiss, he devours my lips, biting my bottom lip playfully. Our tongues slide across one another, his hands gripping the sides of my face. He tastes like the Merlot we have at communion; sweet and fruity. My hands snake around his neck, twirling the thick locks of hair at the nape. His lips take interest elsewhere, peppering erotic pecks across my jaw, to my neck, and to my chest. I unbutton my white dress shirt, revealing my braless breasts. His eyes widen, immediately manhandling and kissing the supple skin.

"I want to feel you inside of me. Please, Father." I moan, perching myself on the edge of his desk, skirt hiked up to my hips. I spread my legs wide, fully revealing myself to him. He exhales in defeat, slotting himself between me.

Charlie rests his hands on either side of me on the desk while I line up his cock to my entrance, pushing my hips towards him. Grabbing my waist, he enters me, his length filling my walls like a glove. His voice groans deeply against my neck, his hand pressed on my lower back for support. His thrusts start off slow and juvenile, but quickly speed up to a pace we both can't take for long. I wrap my legs around him, pulling him in deeper. I moan sweet noises with every movement and caress, realising that this is better than I could've imagined.

"You feel so good, this feels so good." He sobs, nails digging into my hips so hard they leave streaks of blood. The cross around his neck swings in my face, reminding me of how sin can feel so good.

Waves of pleasure wash over me, the coil inside of me tightening by the second. I pull the back of his head close to me as my climax arrives. I bite his lip hard in satisfaction, tasting his blood on my tongue. It's not long before he follows in a moaning mess, burying his head into my chest, grabbing my breast as his warm cum fills me.

It takes a minute of getting our breaths back to move. I use a tissue to wipe his seed off my thighs. Father Charlie hastily redresses, fixing his collar and clutching his necklace.

"Lord, forgive me. Forgive me for this cardinal sin. Forgive me for enjoying it." He prays on his knees, staring up at a portrait of God. I place my hand on his back, feeling some guilt.

"I need to repent. You need to punish me." He says, picking up his leather belt from the floor and placing it in my hands.

"How can something that feels like this be a sin?" He asks me, tears in his eyes. I shake my head, not knowing the answer myself. He takes his shirt off, showing me his scarred back.

"Punish me, please."

[anxiousbabybird]

Love and Deepspace men x fem!reader slightly unhinged HCs

I started Love and Deepspace yesterday so please have my slightly unhinged HCs for the men so far. And minors don’t you dare interact

Part 2

Rafayel

He’s a biter. Leaves you covered in marks from your neck all the way down your thighs.

Plans a date where he’s laid out a huge canvas on the floor of his studio, puts your fave color paint on your hands and his favorite color on his hands, plus several globs of the two colors across the canvas, and then proceeds to have the wildest three rounds of sex on that canvas as it gets progressively more covered in paint. Sells the painting for 6 figures a few weeks later and uses it as an excuse that you need to make more of them.

Tells you his best masterpiece is painting your body with his cum—got really into it once and dipped the paint brush into your cunt to collect his cum and then painted it across your breasts

Has a secret sketch book that’s nothing but pictures of you. Lots of them are of you sleeping when he can study your features but there’s still quite a few he drew from memory.

Made you lay down naked with your legs spread and be still so he could draw the most detailed image of your pussy you could possibly imagine. It’s his personal fave that no one besides him will ever see.

Sees shibari as a beautiful art form and likes to practice with you—has a whole album in his phone just of pics of you tied up all pretty for him

Rarely gets soft in a serious way, he much prefers the teasing back and forth you two usually have.

Xavier

He’s definitely broken into your room Edward Cullen style and watched you sleep

His favorite dates are taking you into the forest at night to watch the stars and moon together. Bonus points if you come across a wanderer and get to fight together.

Clingy after you become his, always wants to be touching you and doesn’t let you out of his sight (and yes that means sometimes he’s following you but it’s just because you’re brave and reckless and he worries)

When he eats you out, he holds both your hands in his for you to hold on to and does it with no hands—makes you cum more times on his tongue than you could fathom (and yes, he’s eating you for his pleasure)

Downloaded a tracker into your watch so he can know where you are at all times

Gets horny when he watches you fight and has def pulled you aside during a mission for a quickie in which you end up having your cunt stuffed with cum for the remainder of the mission

Such a cuddler but like a cat where he only wants to cuddle if he wants to—falls asleep nearly instantly in your arms like the cute sleepyhead he is

Zayne

Finds it so cute the first time he comes to your apartment and sees all the little snow creatures he’d made you sitting in a windowsill together. Makes you so many more after that. Sends you a bouquet of flowers made from his ice too (#Elsa)

Has food delivered to you at lunch on days he knows you’re super busy so you don’t forget to eat since you often forget to take care of yourself (he doesn’t mind too much since he likes that you let him take care of you)

Prefers kisses over hugs, except when he’s sad because of a patient (then he likes the warm comfort of your hugs)

Moves his glasses to the top of his head and rubs the bridge of his nose when he gets really stressed

Brings you a mild painkiller after blowing your back out, a smug but tiny smile on his lips, and tells you, “I was a bit rough so humor me and take this medicine. I don’t want you in excess pain because of me.”

Loves when you want to lay on his chest when he’s reading through cases and medical journals at night. He’ll read them out loud until you fall asleep and then finish them quietly as you snore softly into his chest

Calls you before a difficult surgery because your voice instantly calms him down

Into bondage—specifically he likes to tie you up so you can’t escape when he starts to overstimulate you. He really can’t help it, you just make such pretty noises for him when he gets you to that point that he has to keep going

Tags: @adaurielle @luffysprincess @seraphofthesimps

[helaintoloki]

Can I request something with Five Hargreeves where Five and Lilia gets back to their family after the 7 years (nothing romantic happened between them, just purely platonic), and when he sees the reader for the first time after almost loosing so much hope in seeing her again, he just can’t help but latch onto her and never let go, kissing her all over cause he finally gets to see the love of his life again :,D

a/n: ty for sending in this request anon i really enjoyed writing it <3 this is basically the “good ending” of the subway incident

warnings: fluff, mentions of five and lila but in a platonic way not the bad way

His lungs feel like they’re on fire as Five pushes himself to continue his sprint to your apartment. It’s been seven years without you, and after almost losing hope of ever seeing you again, all he wanted now was to have you in his arms as proof that he truly was back in his own timeline.

He never should have listened to Lila when she insisted on traveling the subway system in search of a solution to the Cleanse, but he had been desperate to find a way to keep you and his family safe no matter the cost. He didn’t mind having to eat subway rats and sleep in flimsily sleeping bags on dirty platforms for your sake, but with no end in sight the entire thing began to seem futile. What good was putting himself through torture if he could never go back home to you?

Thus, when he found the journal that detailed the way back home, Five did not hesitate to jump on the next subway car and return back to his own timeline. He didn’t feel sorry for practically shoving Lila out of the way as soon as the doors opened, and he didn’t waste a second waiting for her to follow before he was booking it out of the station and down the streets to your apartment. While it would have been faster to just jump there, he didn’t want to risk accidentally placing himself right back where he started, and he didn’t have the patience to wait for Lila to find a car and drop him off herself. Seeing you could not wait, and so he ran.

Though Five has experienced seven painful years of being stuck with Lila in the subway, only four hours have passed since you last spoke to him on the phone to discuss your evening plans. He was meant to be at your apartment thirty minutes ago so you could enjoy a lovely dinner at a nice restaurant, and yet here you were sitting painfully board at your kitchen island watching the minutes tick by. You knew he wasn’t exactly keen on eating out when he’d rather stay at home and spend quality time with you, but surely he wouldn’t stoop so low as to miss your date entirely.

“Screw this,” you huff in indigence as you snatch your keys from the counter and grab your previously discarded purse from its spot on the couch. “He’ll just have to meet me there.”

After putting on your coat, you fling the door open only to met with the sight of a breathless Five, his fist raised in the air as if he was about to knock before you beat him to it. He looks completely disheveled with his mussed up hair and wrinkled suit, his eyes blown wide as he swallows down a big gulp of air and takes in your features. You look more beautiful than he ever thought possible, and he can’t believe that he’s really here standing in front of you after being trapped in a time travel hellscape for seven years with his idiot brother’s idiot wife.

“Five?” You utter gently, brows furrowed in confusion and concern as you reach out to place a gentle hand upon his cheek. He’s warm to the touch, most likely a side effect from having sprinted for three blocks, but it worries you nonetheless. He nearly melts into your palm as his eyes flutter shut in contentment at the feel of your skin against his own. He’s missed this, and he’s missed you. “Where have you been, I was just about to leave without you. You okay?”

You jump at his sudden movement when Five practically throws himself into your arms. You lose your footing and tumble back into your apartment, and it takes you a moment to process what’s happening before you tightly return the embrace. You know Five loves you, but he’s never been so forward with affection like this, so his behavior takes you by surprise.

“Sweetheart, I’ve never been better,” he breathes out in relief as he takes in your warmth and your smell and your touch and everything good about you. He never thought he could miss anyone as much as he missed you, and Five swore in that moment he’d never take you for granted again.

“Are you sure you’re really my Five and not a total stranger?” You question teasingly, poking fun at his uncharacteristically tender behavior. While normally you would be met with a biting and sarcastic response in return, you are instead given a passionate kiss as he cups your face in his hands and desperately pulls you closer to him. Your startled gasp is swallowed by his lips as he deepens the kiss and pushes you further into the apartment before shutting the door with his foot.

“Five,” you manage to breathe out after he pulls away for air, your face hot and your mind frazzled as you struggle to comprehend the sequence of events that have just occurred. “Five, we’re going to be late.”

“I couldn’t care less,” he replies with a faint smile, reaching out to carefully tuck your hair behind your ear. “I missed you.”

“Missed me?” You repeat in confusion. “You saw me this morning. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’ll explain everything in time,” he assures you carefully, “but right now I just want to enjoy this moment with you.”

With a faint smile gracing your lips, you know you can’t argue with that. You probably will miss your dinner reservations, but none of that matters as Five pulls you in close and showers you with seven years worth of pent-up affection.

You could really get used to this side of him.

[rafecameronssl4t]

Cart girl || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: you meet Rafe during one of your shifts as a beverage cart girl.

Warnings: swearing idk what else

Word count: 797

A/n: beverage cart girls kept popping up on my fyp and I thought I might aswell 😂

MASTERLIST

Divider by @yoonitos

“She new?” Rafe cocks his head towards your direction before swinging his club. Kelce and Topper both look to where Rafe was referring to, spotting you surrounded by a few other golfers.

“The beverage cart girl?” Topper questions as Rafe hums. “Can’t say I’ve seen her around before,” Topper says as the three boys watch you from afar. “Shit, she’s coming our way,” Kelce comments turning around to hide the fact the fact that he was watching as Topper looks away briefly.

“Hey, you guys want anything to drink or snack on?” you ask with a bright smile, lifting your hand to shield your eyes from the glaring afternoon sun. The three boys look up from their conversation, momentarily taken aback by your friendly demeanor.

“Yeah—uh, you guys want anything?” Rafe repeats the question to Kelce and Topper, who both nod enthusiastically. “Three Westbrooks, thanks,” Rafe says, his voice casual but with a hint of curiosity as his eyes linger on you.

“Sure,” you reply, stepping out of your cart. Rafe’s gaze follows your movements intently, his eyes raking over you in a way that doesn’t go unnoticed. He exchanges a smirk with Kelce and Topper, who try to conceal their grins, clearly amused by Rafe’s reaction.

“How’s your guys’ day been?” you ask sweetly, your voice filled with genuine interest as you reach for the three cans of Westbrook. “Yeah, yeah, good,” Rafe responds quickly, almost too quickly. “You new around here?” he adds, scratching the back of his neck, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“Uh, not really. I usually do morning shifts, but I’ve switched to afternoons,” you explain, handing them each a can, your fingers brushing Rafe’s briefly. “Cool,” Rafe nods, his eyes never leaving yours, the smirk still playing on his lips.

“Cash or card?” you ask, holding a small notepad ready to jot down their payment details. “Just put it on my tab. It’s Cameron,” Rafe replies confidently, his smirk widening as he notices the moment of recognition in your eyes. “Cameron?” you repeat, locking eyes with him, the name ringing a bell.

Your eyes rake over his features, taking in his confident smirk and the way he holds himself. Tilting your head the tiniest bit, you say, “Well, have a good rest of your day, guys.” You offer a warm smile before turning around and climbing back into your cart.

As you start the engine and drive away, you hear Kelce exclaim, “Fuck, she’s hot, dude,” while slapping Rafe’s chest. Rafe chuckles, his eyes fixed on your cart as it disappears into the distance.

“Yeah, she definitely is,” Rafe murmurs, a satisfied grin spreading across his face as he watches you leave. Topper shakes his head, laughing softly, trying to hide his amusement. “Think she’ll be around for the afternoon shifts more often?” Topper asks, glancing at Rafe. “Hope so,” Rafe replies, eyes still lingering on you.

~

“Y’know, the craziest thing happened to me yesterday afternoon,” you say absentmindedly, sipping on your fruity drink as you watch him line up his shot. His focus on the golf ball is intense, but he pauses for a moment, intrigued by your comment.

“Hmm? What happened, baby?” he replies, turning to make his way towards you. He presses a quick kiss on your lips before reaching over you to grab another club from the bag.

“I met your son,” you say, swirling the straw in your drink with your finger. Ward looks at you, his expression curious. “You saw Rafe?” he repeats, his tone carrying a mix of surprise and interest. “Yeah,” you hum in confirmation. “He’s quite good-looking, takes after his father,” you add with a smirk, watching as Ward chuckles and throws his head back in laughter.

“He’s a coke addict, baby. Best you don’t involve yourself with him, he’s trouble,” Ward warns, his thumb rubbing gently against your bottom lip. His touch is tender, but his words are firm. You stare up at him, undeterred. “He was nice to me,” you shrug, recalling the encounter.

“That’s because you’re a good-looking girl,” Ward says, his eyes twinkling with a mix of amusement and admiration “You think so?” you ask, your smirk growing. Ward chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss on your cheek. “I know so.”

As Ward returns to his game, you can’t help but let your mind wander back to Rafe. There was something about him that intrigued you and you couldn’t help but purposely run into him around the course.