#AND I DON'T FEEL COMFORTABLE GIVING IT TO ANYONE ELSE

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 18: Don't Let Me Go

Summary: Things have gone wrong in your pack's absence. Can they make it back in time before irreparable damage is done? Can they fix the damage that's already been dealt?

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 10,232...oops

Warnings: ANGST, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, ANGST, anxiety, fear, panic attacks, very descriptive scenes of panic and anxiety, very heavy emotionally in the beginning, major invasions of privacy, hurt/sort of comfort, very brief mention of violence and death, and most importantly: fluff

A/N: Yeah, so this one kind of got away from me. It's definitely one of my favorite chapters now, and it's definitely the longest so far. It's pretty heavy, so plan something fun afterwards because it will hurt. I tried to catch all the possible triggers, but of course, if I miss one let me know. I promise things will begin to take a turn for the happier after this, at least for a bit. Picks up pretty much right where chapter 17 left off.

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You’re shaking. Your breaths are coming in gasps as you stare at your open door. There’s no scent in the air, nothing that would give you a hint of who invaded your space, or if they’re still in there. You should leave, barricade yourself somewhere and call Dr. Keller, or even Kate. 

What could they do, though? Your pack won’t be home until tomorrow at the earliest. 

No one can help you. 

You slowly push your door open, ready to run in case someone is hiding inside. You stand in the doorway, scanning the small space, but there’s no sign of anyone. There’s still no scent either, just your own mingled with the slight chemical burn of scent blockers. Your eyes scan the room, looking for anything that might be new, anything that might be missing, anything that might be slightly out of place. 

The clothes on the floor are slightly rumpled, but you’re not sure if you did that in your haste to pull on shoes before you left, or if they’ve been that way since the knock sounded on your door. You lift your gaze to the ceiling, scanning it and that’s when you notice it. The cover over the vent is slightly out of place. You likely wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t been paying attention, if you hadn’t looked. 

The thought sends a chill running down your spine. 

You keep your eyes on the vent as you grab your desk chair, kicking clothes out of the way as you move it under the vent. You stand on the chair, reaching for the vent, but it’s not quite enough. You shove the chair to the side, taking everything off your desk before you pull it under the vent. You climb up on shaky legs, your heart thudding in your chest as you remove the vent cover. 

Nausea twists at your stomach as your breath leaves you in a sharp gasp. There, strategically placed between two of the gaps in the vent cover, is a camera. It’s small, and would have been invisible just staring at the vent from below. You feel like you might be sick as you pull it free from the vent cover, staring down into the tiny lens. 

How long has it been up there? 

You drop the camera onto your desk, your fingers shaking and trembling as you feel along the edges of the vent, checking for anything else that might be hiding up there. You replace the cover after you find nothing, a sense of dread filling you. 

Had the guys put it up so they could watch you, make sure that you’re safe? Had they put it up there before you arrived? You think about all the times you’ve changed in your room, your heat. 

You climb down from the desk, tugging it further towards the center of the room before you climb back up, unscrewing the cover off the light. You check the bulb, looking for any cameras or recording devices. You screw the cover of the light back on after finding none, a quiet sob leaving your lips as you look around your room. 

You close the door and lock it before you begin your search, checking every corner and piece of furniture for cameras or recording devices. You empty the dresser and closet, checking every drawer and corner for anything suspicious. 

You pull recording devices from under your desk and the back of your nightstand, the adhesive still fresh enough they pop right off. A cold sweat has overtaken you as you find another recording device and another camera, adding them to the growing pile on your desk. 

A quiet sob of fear leaves your lips as you check the bathroom, tearing your room apart to check every inch. You search up a tutorial on YouTube, using your phone to check for more possible cameras that you might have missed. 

You stare down at the pile of cameras and recording devices on your desk. Someone entered your room and planted them while you were with General Shepherd. It had all been deliberate. Get you away from your room and distracted so they could enter and set up the devices. You wonder if it’s all part of some sick plan, some way to ensure things are going well with your pack. General Shepherd had been very interested in your mark, invading your space without a moment of hesitation to see it firsthand. You would have shown him, had he asked to see it. Instead he’d just done it himself, as if it was nothing. 

Your hands are shaking as you find a ziploc bag in the mess you’ve made of your room, putting the cameras and recording devices into it. You drop it onto the floor before stepping on it, listening to the crack of metal and plastic and glass under your shoe. Tears slip down your cheeks as you pick up the bag of broken pieces, taking it to the bathroom. You hide it far in the back of the cupboard beneath the sink, piling things around it and on top of it to keep it hidden. 

You stand in the doorway of the bathroom, your skin crawling as you stare at the mess. You don’t feel safe anymore, not even in your own space. The thought of someone breaching the sacred space, entering your room without a second thought to put up cameras makes your stomach churn. 

Where will you go? You can’t just leave, find somewhere else to feel safe. What if they did the same to the guys’ rooms? There could have been an entire team of people that came in and put cameras up all over the barracks. A sob leaves your lips as you rush to the door, double checking it’s locked before you shove the dresser against it. You flip your desk up to cover the window as much as it can, just in case anyone tries to climb in.  

You sink to the floor in the middle of the disaster that has become your room, sobbing quietly. You want your pack home, you want to feel safe again. You glance at your phone where it’s sitting on a pile of shirts, afraid to even touch it. That woman could have done anything to it while you were with General Shepherd. What if they’re trying to call you and they can’t reach you? 

You should try to reach Dr. Keller, tell her what happened, get her to check if there’s anyone lurking around the barracks that shouldn’t be. What if they try to attack her, though? Can she defend herself? You don’t know if she can fight or not. What if she gets hurt because of you? She could ask someone else on base to look, but what if they were involved in it? What if it was someone already on base that had done it? The thought nearly makes you sick. 

You’re scared to leave again. What if they’ve noticed you found the cameras and come back while you’re gone? What if they come back while you’re here? 

The tears flow freely as you sob, too afraid to even move. You can feel it, the panic starting to bubble up again, the fear welling inside you. Your muscles begin to tense, shoulders pulling up near your ears as you try to defend yourself from this invisible threat. It’s an easy slope from fear to distress, and there’s no one to help you if you start distressing. You press your palms into your eyes, holding your breath to try and shock your body into something other than panic. 

You bite back a startled scream as a knock sounds at the door, your heart rate spiking again. 

“It’s just me,” Dr. Keller’s voice sounds through the door. “Ready for dinner?” 

You take a deep breath, staring at the dresser blocking your door. You’ll have to move it to get out, which she’ll likely notice. You could lie, you could lie easily, but you’re not sure you could keep it up right now. She’ll notice the tears, the obvious signs of panic and distress. She’ll want to know, and you can’t trust yourself not to spill everything. 

You should tell her about what had happened, but you know she’ll be disappointed. She’ll think you were stupid for leaving, for not even sending her a text. She’ll tell John when he returns, too. He should know about it, but there’s no way a high ranking General could arrive on base without them knowing, especially one that’s their commander. Maybe it had all been a test. Maybe they do know about General Shepherd and just forgot to tell you this was going to happen. 

Maybe Dr. Keller even knew about it, and didn’t say anything because she thought you knew too. 

“I-I’m not hungry.” You say, trying to keep your voice from shaking. 

There’s a pause outside the door for a moment, a beat of silence that’s too loud.

“Is everything alright?” She finally asks. 

“Y-Yeah.” You say, clearing your throat. “Just...not really hungry right now.” 

It’s silent again for a beat, making you hold your breath anxiously. 

“Are you sure? I can come back later, or bring you dinner.” She says. 

“I’m sure.” You swallow the tears welling in your eyes again. “I’ll grab a snack if I get hungry later.” 

“Okay...” She says, and you can almost see the frown on her face. “Text or call if you need anything, alright?” 

“Yeah.” You say, your voice cracking a bit. 

You regret it almost instantly, the urge to shove the dresser out of the way and fling the door open strong as you hear her receding steps down the hallway. You don’t want to be alone, but Dr. Keller can’t give you what you need. The tears start falling again, sliding down your cheeks as you flop onto your back, ignoring the way the edge of a book digs into your spine. 

You just want your pack back. You want John to scoop you up into his arms and wrap you in his warmth and soothing scent. You want Kyle and Johnny to squish you between them, sandwich you so tightly you’re scared you might burst. You want Ghost to wrap himself around you and offer you a blanket of protection against anyone who would even dare cast a glance in your direction. 

You just want to feel at home again. 

You want to be safe again. 

***

The emotional and physical exhaustion pushes you into the state between consciousness and sleep. You’ve moved to your bed, tucked under the covers and stuck between the wall and your giant bear, as if it could offer you some form of protection as you float between awareness and somewhere in the realm of sleep for a few hours.

You’re not sure what time it is, when the disruption comes. It takes you a moment to register why you’re awake. Some deep part of your brain is prickling, sending out warning signals to your body. Something’s happening, something’s wrong, something’s posing a threat. 

You hold your breath in the silence of the barracks, listening to the slow, quiet footsteps making their way down the hall. For a moment you think you might be imagining them, that you’re still asleep and dreaming. Your fingers pinch at your skin, nails digging in to confirm that you are, in fact, awake. This is really happening. 

Your heartbeat picks up, the bitter stench of fear that’s coated your room intensifying as the footsteps pause outside your door. You let out a quiet, shaky breath as you lay there, thinking up every time you checked the door in the last few hours to ensure it was locked and the dresser was still pushed in front of it. 

You cover your mouth as the door handle wiggles, catching on the lock. The whimper of fear threatening to rise catches in your throat as you hold your breath, your body trembling under your blankets. You should reach for your phone, send a text to Kate, call Dr. Keller, do something. Yet, you’re frozen in fear as the handle continues to wiggle before stopping. 

You don’t release a breath until the footsteps fade, a quiet whimper slipping from your lips. Someone just tried to get into your room. 

You’re panicking, breaths coming in short, sharp gasps as you burrow under your covers, barricading yourself between the wall and your bear, hoping you’ll be invisible in case they come back, in case they force their way in. You can’t fight, not after the day you’ve had. The best you can hope for is that your scent is rank enough in the room it’ll deter whoever is trying to get in. 

You need tomorrow to come, and fast. 

***

Daylight doesn't bring any sense of comfort. 

All it does is shed more light on the disaster your room has become, the physical representation of your internal thoughts and feelings. Your face feels puffy from crying, and there’s a bad taste in your mouth. You haven’t brushed your teeth since yesterday, nor have you showered, too scared to put yourself in such a vulnerable position. 

You glance at your phone, checking for missed calls, but there’s none. Dr. Keller will be by soon to get you for breakfast, but you’re not sure you can stand going to the mess. The idea of leaving your room, leaving it empty so anyone could just walk in and bug it or touch your things or hide out so they can take revenge on you for finding and destroying their cameras and recording devices has you paralyzed. 

That must have been what whoever entered the barracks last night had come to do. Maybe they thought you’d spend the night in one of the other rooms and they’d come to replace them. Or, maybe they wanted you to be in your room. Maybe that was the plan all along. 

The thought sends a chill running down your spine. 

You burrow back under your blankets, curling up against your giant teddy bear. You wish it was Price, that his arm would wrap around you and hold you close, keep you safe and protected in his arms. You’d take any of them right now, even Ghost. At least you know he’d protect you, especially if someone tried to enter the barracks without permission. 

You’re still lying there when Dr. Keller arrives. You stare at the dresser still pushed against the door, keeping you from opening it. Not that you really want to. You can’t stop the anxiety from taking over, bringing forward the image of Dr. Keller held at gunpoint on the other side of the door, trying to trick you into opening it so whoever tried to get in last night can finally do what they came to do. 

You know it’s a ridiculous thought. No one would be that stupid in broad daylight, and you doubt Dr. Keller would let something like that happen to her. She’d put up a fight, or at least you hope so. 

You can’t move the dresser without her knowing you’d pushed it against the door, which will only prompt questions. Questions you don’t want to answer. 

She calls your name through the door, concern lacing her voice. “Everything alright?” 

No. You want to scream it, tears gathering in your eyes again. You want to push the dresser out of the way, throw open the door and confess everything that’s happened in the last few hours to her. You want to bring her into your space, keep her there until your pack returns so you can feel even just an ounce of safety. 

But what if she gets mad? 

Leaving yesterday was stupid. Going off with some unknown beta without telling anyone was the dumbest thing you’ve done since your arrival on base. She’ll be disappointed and she’ll tell your pack and they’ll be disappointed that you didn’t say anything to her about it. Even if they knew it happened, they’d still be disappointed that you didn’t think to even question it, that you didn’t think to let Dr. Keller know what was going on. 

You made a stupid decision, and you won’t be able to take their disappointment and anger. Not after everything. 

“Yeah.” You call out, your voice shaking. “I-I’m alright.” 

You can tell she doesn’t believe you, even though you can’t see her. She probably has that look on her face she gets when she knows you’re not telling the whole truth. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the racing of your heart. You’re afraid it might give out after the stress of the last few days. 

“Are you ready for breakfast?” She finally asks, likely giving up on trying to get any more details from you. 

You’re not hungry, and you know going to the mess will not end well. The risk of distressing is high, and the thought that any one in the mess might have been the intruder last night nearly sends you over the edge. One wrong glance in your direction might cause you to do something reckless. “I’m not hungry.” You finally say, pulling the blankets tighter around you. 

“Are you sure?” She asks. “Did you eat something last night?” 

“Yeah.” You lie, trying to keep your voice from breaking. “I had some snacks.” 

Her feet shuffle outside the door for a moment, and you can almost hear her sigh. “If you’re sure?” 

“I-I’m sure.” You reply. 

There’s a moment of silence before you get a response, your breath catching in your throat from the nerves. “Alright.” She finally says. “I got word that your pack will be landing in a couple of hours and we have permission to go out to the airfield and greet them. I’ll come back to get you when it’s time. If you need anything, call me.” 

You listen to her footsteps recede down the hallway, tears burning your eyes. You hate lying. You feel bad for keeping the truth from her, but the shame of revealing what you did is too strong. 

You hastily wipe your eyes, staring at the mess on your floor. You need to get your room back to at least its somewhat normal state, and you need to put yourself back to your normal state as well. If anyone gets any hint that something is wrong, you might crack, and you’re not sure you could handle the repercussions. 

You start with the desk, flipping it back the way it’s supposed to be and positioning it as close to where it was as you can get. You collect the books and other little things that go on it, trying to arrange it as close to how it normally is. You know they’ll notice if any little thing is out of place, if anything looks suspicious. You can blame some of it on cleaning, if they ask. You did some deep cleaning while they were away. That’s one way of putting it. 

You push the dresser back into place next, putting the drawers back in before starting on the clothes, putting everything back where it belongs. You make your bed last, the urge to nest gone completely. You’re shaking with exhaustion by the time you finish, tempted to crawl back into bed, but you know you can’t. Your pack is coming back, and you need everything to look like it’s fine still. 

They’ll notice. They’ll see it, and they’ll ask, and you’ll have to spill everything and face the shame and anger from being so stupid. 

Tears burn your eyes as you slip your desk chair under the door handle, making sure it’s secure before heading to the shower to get ready for your pack’s imminent return. You shower with the door open, getting done quickly to avoid being vulnerable for long. You try to make yourself look as decent as possible, ignoring the fact that there’s broken cameras and recording devices hidden under the sink. Eventually you’ll forget. Eventually it’ll fade from your mind and become nothing more than a forgotten nightmare. 

One of many. 

You toss your pajamas on the floor haphazardly, just to make things look more normal. You know if it’s too clean, that might raise some suspicions as well. You don’t want to give away that something happened, you don’t want to raise any suspicions. You just want things to go back to normal. You want your pack back, and you want to feel safe again. 

At least, until they have to leave again. 

You sink to the floor, leaning up against your bed as you wait for Dr. Keller to take you to greet your pack when they return. 

***

Every minute seems to drag on infinitely as you stare across the tarmac. They’ll be landing any minute. Any minute now the nightmare will be over and you’ll get to see your pack again after days of being apart. Finally, maybe, you can begin to feel safe again. 

You watch the plane as it comes in to land, your hands already trembling in anticipation. There’s a twisting in your stomach, you’re not sure if it’s worry or fear or excitement. They’re so close, so close you can almost smell them. Your omega is scratching at the back of your brain, your muscles twitching as the ramp begins to lower on the plane. You need to see them, you need to smell them, you need to ensure they’re alright. 

You can’t stop yourself. As soon as their boots hit the tarmac, you’re running. You don’t care if you’re breaking rules, you don’t care if the other soldiers get worried, or see you as a possible threat, you need to be in your alpha’s arms again. 

John grunts from the force of you hitting him, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You throw your arms around him, clinging to him as tight as you can. You’re whimpering, the quiet sounds dragging from your lips but you don’t care. You press your face into his chest, breathing him in. He smells like sweat and musk, the sharp metallic tang of gunpowder burning your nose. Yet, underneath it all, you can make out the earthy scent, the petrichor going straight to your brain. 

His arms wrap tight around you, squishing you up against his chest. His vest digs into your skin, but you don’t care. You can’t feel much of anything but relief. His breath fans your forehead as he leans down, his hand cupping the back of your head. He shushes you gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Tears fill your eyes as you cling to him, fingers gripping his shirt tightly like you’re afraid he might disappear again. If it wasn’t for the pain in your chest, you might have thought this was all a dream, that they might disappear suddenly and you’ll wake up alone again. 

“Easy.” John rumbles, gently stroking the back of your head. 

You cling to him tighter as his hand gets close to your neck, the thought of General Shepherd’s hand being so close to your neck where he could scruff you so easily making your insides squirm. 

He’s gone. He’s gone and your pack is here. 

“You’re alright.” John tries to reassure you, squeezing his arms around your trembling form. “I’ve got you.” 

You keep your face pressed against his chest, breathing him in, trying to get his scent to calm the raging storm within you. Your omega is still scratching at the back of your mind, a deep need to claw your way under John’s skin and into his body pushing at the front of your mind. You won’t be safe until you’ve been utterly consumed by him, until you’re safely tucked where no one can hurt you without going through him first. 

“Alpha,” You whine quietly, nuzzling your face against his chest. His clothes are in the way, a barrier against what you need. To feel him, to smell him fully again. 

“Easy.” He says, grabbing your hands as they shift towards the velcro straps of his tactical vest. “Let’s get back to the barracks first before we start that, sweetheart.” 

You don’t want to go back to the barracks. It’s not safe anymore. What if there’s someone waiting there for you to return? What if they get hurt because you don’t tell them what happened? What if you get hurt and cause them pain? 

“You’re alright.” John says, stroking the back of your head as he begins to ease your grip on him. “There’s a couple of muppets here who I think would like to greet you too.” 

Right. You’re so caught up in your alpha, you forgot the rest of your pack. You slowly allow yourself to be peeled away from John, Kyle right there to let you cling to him. 

And so you do. 

Your grip around him is just as tight, ignoring the uncomfortable ridges of his own vest. He holds you just as tightly, projecting his scent just a bit to try and calm you. Someone presses against your back, arms wrapping around both you and Kyle. The scent of citrus lined with beta invades your nose, Johnny squishing you into a sandwich between them. Your eyes squeeze shut as citrus and salty sea air blend together, the beta’s scents reaching deep into your brain to try and ease some of the tension in your body. 

They’re back. They’re safe. You’re safe. 

Now you just have to convince yourself of that fact. 

***

“How was she?” John asks as he approaches Dr. Keller. 

“Held it together longer than I thought she would.” She says. “Things took a turn yesterday afternoon. Shut herself in her room and wouldn’t come out. I don’t think she’s eaten anything since lunch yesterday either.” 

“We’ll get some food in her.” John says. “Thank you, for looking after her for us.” 

“Well, it is partly my job.” Dr. Keller shrugs. “Always happy to do it.” 

“Things will get easier, won’t they?” He asks. 

“Eventually. She’ll learn what coping mechanisms help and she’ll adapt.” 

“Hopefully at least one of us will be able to stay moving forward. I don’t like leaving her here alone.” He grimaces. 

“Separation is hard no matter what, especially with limited contact, on all parties involved.” She gives him a look. “I think the best thing you can do right now is just be together as a pack. Let those bonds heal and let her do what she needs.” 

“Thank you, doctor.” John says, shaking her hand. 

“Call me, if you need anything, as usual.” Dr. Keller says, watching his retreating back before getting into her car to make the short drive back to the medical center. 

John gets into the car waiting to take them back to the barracks, sitting next to Kyle who’s holding you straddling his lap, your face pressed into his neck. “That looks safe.” He remarks, even though they wouldn’t be going very fast, or very far. 

“Couldn’t get her to let go.” Kyle says, tightening his hold around you as the car begins moving. 

“You’re alright, sweetheart.” John says, rubbing your back gently. 

You turn your face to look at him, your eyes red from the numerous tears you’ve already shed, and the ones still trailing down your face. The guilt nearly makes him sick as he stares at you, feeling the slight tremble still from where his hand rests against your back. 

He’d never say it out loud, but he hates the fact they had to leave you, all four of them at once too. He’d fought, argued. He and Simon could have handled it on their own, even him and the two Sergeants would have been sufficient. Anything not to leave you by yourself during their first deployment. 

Despite his attempts, General Shepherd had been insistent that all four of them were necessary for this particular task. 

So, he had been forced to leave you behind on your own. It’s gone about as well as he expected, from the looks of it. He knew the separation would get to you eventually. The stress would grow to be too much. Every day he anticipated the news to come from Kate that you had distressed and your omega had taken over because he wasn’t there to help you. 

Every day he waited for the news that they’d lost you because the brass that put this initiative into place couldn’t understand why taking them all at once was a bad idea. 

Or maybe that was their plan all along. 

He couldn’t stop the conspiratorial thoughts running through his head as their mission dragged on. What if they were doing this on purpose? It wouldn’t be that strange to push the boundaries of what could be tolerated for the purpose of testing just how effective the initiative really could be. But pushing it like that so soon? Sure, he could rationalize it was possible. War could break out at any moment, which would require most military members to leave, to be separated from their packs for months or even years. His own team could be called out at any time for months working to eliminate a target and stop war from breaking out. 

Yet, he can’t help but feel there was something more, something deeper going on. What if they had called away for more nefarious reasons? What if getting you alone had been the reason behind General Shepherd’s insistence that all four of them were necessary for this particular task? He had refused to entertain those dark thoughts for too long, the fear of leaving you alone already itching in the back of his mind from the moment they boarded the plane to leave. 

He hadn’t been able to hide his relief at hearing your voice on the phone. Though you had sounded upset, and rightfully so, his worries had been lessened in knowing you were alright. You would tell them if something had happened. He knows you wouldn’t keep something that serious a secret. If someone had hurt you, or had tried to hurt you, you would tell one of them. 

Even though he trusts you, he does plan to speak to Dr. Keller more in depth later to ensure everything went as fine as she seemed to imply it did. Obviously their absence has been hard on you, but he needs to make sure you really will be alright, that you will be able to come back from the obvious distress this has caused you. 

***

You finally release your constricting hold on Kyle as the car pulls up outside the barracks. Even with them back, it still doesn't feel like home anymore, not after such sacred space was invaded so easily, so nonchalantly. Kyle climbs out of the car, setting you on your feet on the ground. You look between him and John, realizing Ghost and Johnny are still in the car. Your stomach falls as you realize what they're about to say, tears gathering in your eyes again.

“We still have some things we need to do.” John says, reaching towards you. 

You have the momentary urge to flinch from his touch, but you let his hand cup your cheek. “You're leaving me again.” You say, your voice breaking. 

John almost looks guilty. He almost looks upset by your visible turmoil. His hand drops from your cheek to your back, turning you towards the barracks. Your stomach twists as he guides you inside, the fear of someone being inside spiking. You know you're safe with John, that he wouldn’t let anything happen to you, but you'd have to play dumb if they did catch someone inside. You’d have to act like you didn’t know someone had entered before, like you had been unaware of anything going on. That might almost be worse than telling them the truth. 

You inhale as he stops in front of your door, still closed from when you'd left with Dr. Keller. There's no chemical burn of scent blockers, just your scent in the air, and John's scent coming off him as he stands next to you. 

“We won't be long. Maybe an hour at most, and we'll only be across base. We'll come back and we can get lunch before our afternoon meeting. Then we'll just have reports to do, and you can sit in my office while I work on those, okay?” He says. 

Your brows pinch as you try to hold in your tears. You want to tell him, you want to reveal what happened, beg him not to leave you alone here again, but you can't. You can't face that shame, the disappointment you know he'll show on his face at the knowledge that you let that happen. You willingly left with a stranger without telling anyone. You let someone invade your pack's space so easily. They were gone for a week and you screwed everything up. 

“Tomorrow we'll spend the day together. All of us. I promise.” He says wiping the tear that slides down your cheek. 

Even though they're back, you still don't have them. 

You inhale shakily before nodding. “Yeah. Fine.”

John's thumb brushes your cheek for a moment before he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

You watch his back retreat as he leaves the barracks, leaving you alone again. You think back to when they’d left you, watching his back as he boarded the plane to be taken from you. You stare at the door as the cars drive off, a cold chill running down your spine. What if General Shepherd is still here? What if they're going to meet with him? What if he tells them he met with you while they were gone and they had no idea? 

Maybe you should have been honest with them from the start. 

You stare at your closed door, your hands shaking. What if there's someone inside? What if someone is waiting to take their revenge for you destroying the cameras. What if they put new ones up? 

You should have opened the door while Price was here so you could have at least screamed when someone would hear you. You back away from your door slowly, deciding to wait in the rec room. At least there you might have a chance. You could break a window and run, or at least have a higher chance of making it to a door. 

Would anyone help you? Would anyone come if you screamed? What if they’re all in on it? 

You're shaking as you sink onto the couch, sitting so you can see into the hallway. You want to see them coming so you can prepare yourself, or at least give yourself a chance to make an escape before it’s too late. 

You run through all the things Ghost has taught you in your head as you sit and wait, the minutes dragging by painfully slow. You can feel every second, though that may just be the anxiety and fear pulsing within you. You wish you could sleep, you wish you could relax, you wish you could do anything to make the time go by faster, but yet you remain hypervigilant, staring so hard you flinch at every little shadow your brain convinces you is moving. 

You’re not sure how long you sit there, tense and coiled, ready to spring at a moment’s notice. It can’t be more than an hour as John promised, yet it feels like a lifetime before you hear movement. 

You hold your breath as the barracks door opens, boots thudding with every footstep coming down the hall. You nearly whimper when a figure rounds the corner, before you let out a sigh of relief. 

“Ready for lunch, kitten?” Johnny asks, standing in the doorway of the rec room. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, your hands still clenched into fists. You're breathing hard, your entire body tense. You know you're reaching dangerous territory. Any more panic, you may start distressing. What a welcome home for them, coming back to a distressed omega. They're probably exhausted, and here you are making a scene. 

Hands close around yours. Warm, calloused hands apply gentle pressure, slowly uncurling your fingers. Your hands are shaking, trembling just slightly. 

“Ye alright, kitten?” Johnny asks, kneeling in front of you. When he moved, you're not sure. 

“I-I'm not...” You start, your voice shaking. 

“Ye need tae eat.” He counters, as if he had read your mind, expected the answer.  

He's right. You're beginning to feel it gnawing in your stomach, something deeper than the anxiety. With all the stressing you've been doing, you know you need to eat something. Being hungry is not helping that any, either. 

“I don't want to go to the mess.” You say quickly, the words almost mushing together incoherently. “Too much.” 

Johnny sits back, staring at you for a moment before nodding in understanding. “Alright. That's fair. I'll let the lads know.”

He stands up, leaving you alone in the rec room again. You listen to his footsteps fade, the door opening and closing for a moment. You hold your breath, practically on the edge of your seat. There's no reason they would make you go to the mess. You've eaten in the barracks many times before. 

You blame your worry on your hunger. You know omegas don't do well when hungry. Omegas don't do well being uncomfortable in general. 

Saying these last few days have been uncomfortable for you is a bit of an oversimplification. 

Footsteps echo down the hallway, a familiar hulking figure approaching the rec room. You never thought there would come a time when you would feel relief upon seeing Ghost. Yet here you are, the tension easing from your shoulders as he steps into the rec room. 

“They're grabbing us food.” He says, moving to sit in his usual spot in the chair facing the door. He sighs as he sinks into the cushions, and you can only imagine how tired he must be. 

And here you are making things worse. 

“You're stressed.” He says, staring at you. His eyes are still painted black beneath his mask, adding to the eerie vibe coming off of him. You're beginning to understand why they call him Ghost. “Stinking up the barracks.” He says, pulling out his phone. 

“Oh.” You say quietly, sinking in on yourself as you sit there. “Sorry.” 

You pick nervously at your sweatshirt as you wait for the others to return, letting out a quiet sigh of relief as they enter the rec room, food in hand. 

Johnny sits you on his lap as you eat, making sure you get your fill, likely aware that you haven't eaten yet today thanks to Dr. Keller telling on you. It's quiet in the room as everyone eats, even the TV off. They all look tired and tense, and you can only imagine what happened during their time away. The things they did, the things they saw. You wonder how much blood is on their hands now, hands that have touched you, hands that are holding you. 

They can just go off and kill people and come back and act like nothing has happened. 

You could almost laugh at how psychotic it all sounds. 

This is your life now. This is your new normal. 

“We have a quick meeting. Shouldn't take too long.” John says as they stand, Johnny placing you gently on your feet. 

You tug at your sweatshirt, avoiding his gaze. They're leaving you again. They won't be far this time, but still. You just want to curl up in bed with them and lay there until you feel safe again. 

Tomorrow, John had said. Tomorrow they will be yours. 

It might have been easier if you hadn't been told they were coming home until tomorrow.

***

You tense under the blanket as the door closes, quiet footsteps approaching your position on the couch. There's a quiet sigh as a figure drops to a knee in front of you, their figure visible as a shadow beneath the blanket. 

“Can you breathe under there?” 

You slowly lower the blanket just enough to peek over the top of it. John is kneeling next to the couch, his brows furrowed in a frown. You're in his office, having shut yourself in there while they went into the meeting. John had made you swear not to go snooping as he’d let you inside. You had promised, as you still feel no desire to dig through the likely classified files that were locked in the cabinets and on his computer. Instead you had parked yourself on his couch, burrowing under a blanket that smelled faintly of petrichor and tobacco smoke. 

“There she is.” He says as you peek above the blanket, gently running a hand over the top of your head. “How are you holding up, sweetheart?” 

“You left me.” You say quietly, trying not to burst into tears and confess everything. 

“I know.” He says, wiping the tear that slides down your cheek. “But we came back, just like we promised.” 

He is right in that regard, yet you can’t help the tears as they slide down your cheeks. The ache in your chest that had started to build over the last few days is still present despite their return. Everything is wrong. They feel too far away, too distant. Nothing is safe anymore, nothing is sacred, and they’re just acting like everything is back to normal. 

“Would you like to kneel for me?” He asks, his thumb stroking your cheek. 

You’re tempted to say no. For the first time you feel wary of your alpha. What kinds of things would you admit in your dazed state? If he questioned you, would you give him enough to put together that something had happened and you’ve been trying to hide it from him? Maybe it would help, though. It would at least ease some of the tension that’s built up. Maybe it could pull you back from the edge of distress you’ve been dangling over for almost two days. Maybe he’ll accidentally scruff you and you can forget the whole thing happened. 

The dark thought sends a chill down your spine. 

“Okay.” You say, pushing yourself up to sit. 

John offers you a hand, helping you up off the couch. You don't want to let go of his hand, you don't want to be parted from him. The omega in the back of your mind is screaming at you to get close to him and stay there for the rest of time. If he leaves you again...you're not sure you can handle it. 

He settles in his desk chair, getting everything he needs ready. He'll work on his reports while you kneel, a familiar position, a familiar situation. You've done this before several times. You're not sure why you're suddenly nervous. 

You set the pillow down, dropping to your knees beside him. The chair creaks as he shifts slightly, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head. You fight the urge to flinch, to move away as he gently strokes his hand over your hair. You've done this before, he's done this before. You're not sure why your heart is thudding in your chest. 

His hand slowly moves lower, slipping closer and closer to your neck. You can't help it as your shoulders come up, preventing him from gripping the back of your neck. He moves his hand away as you get defensive, his chair turning slightly as he leans down. 

“It's alright, sweetheart. It's just me.” He soothes you, his hand returning to the top of your head. “I know it's been a while, but I promise I remember what to do.” 

“Sorry, sorry.” You gasp out, trying to relax. “I don't...I don't know...”

You do know. Your brain keeps flashing back to General Shepherd, his hand tugging down your collar, so close to your neck. How easily he could have scruffed you, if he'd wanted to. You would have known if he had, but he could have done anything to you during the time he had control. 

“You're stressed, all worked up.” John says, still stroking the top of your head, trying to soothe you. “It's been a long week for all of us. It was a risk, sending all four of us at once. A stupid risk that shouldn't have been taken.”

You're pulled from your emotional state at the slight hint of anger in his voice. It hadn't taken you long to figure out they likely were all sent in order to get you alone. It would have been impossible to get you out of the barracks and put cameras up with even one of them here. Did he know about Shepherd's visit? Had he put two and two together and figured out they sent all four of them on purpose? You figured he'd be angrier if he knew about what you did, about what they did to you. He would be blazing a path straight to General Shepherd if your alpha knew he got so close to you, put you in that kind of situation. 

At least, you hope he would. There’s still that fear in the back of your mind, that worry that it was all a test and you’ve failed. Would they send you back to the institute? Would they break the bonds and send you to a different pack? Would they send you out on your own, leaving you to fend for yourself until some other alpha crossed your path and decided you were worth it? Does he know you’re lying to him, hiding the truth of what happened while he was away? Is he waiting for you to confess, biding his time to see how long you try to hide it? 

You want to tell him. You really do, but you can't bring yourself to get the words out. You can't bring yourself to confess here on your knees before your alpha. You feel guilty, like a sinner, yet the shame keeps the words trapped inside. 

He continues to soothe you, sliding his hand further down until he reaches your neck. You force yourself to relax, knowing you need this. You need your alpha to take control. You need him to ease the heavy weight on your shoulders, even if he doesn't know what he's lifting. 

You close your eyes as his fingers press into your neck, your brain quieting to a hum as you begin to slip into the back of your mind. You feel the rush of endorphins as your brain begins to calm itself, quieting the storm that's been raging for almost a week. You begin to go numb, relaxing into John's hold as he eases you into a quiet, meditative state. He begins to work on his reports as he holds you, your mind floating off somewhere else, somewhere safer where no one can break in and hurt you, somewhere where the barracks are still secure and safe and your pack never left.

Somewhere where there's no initiative, and your pack picked you because they wanted you, because you were a good omega who did as she was told and didn't make stupid mistakes that put everyone in danger. 

The last of the tension leaves your body, your mind distant from the present moment. You're safe with your alpha. He'd never let anything happen to you. None of your pack would let anything happen to you.

The thought continues to repeat in your head like a mantra as you relax, held up by the strong pillar that is your alpha. 

***

“Report's done, Captain.” Kyle says, placing the stack of papers on John's desk. 

“Thanks.” John sighs, grabbing them. 

Kyle turns to look at you, fast asleep on the couch. “You want me to take her?” He asks, the formality easing between them as they settle into being a pack and not a task force on duty anymore. 

John stares at you, curled up on his lumpy old couch. It’s getting late, or at least it feels that way. You’ve been out, sleeping peacefully on his couch since he eased you out of your kneeling position. You’d clung to him tightly, and for a moment he’d considered holding you, letting you sit with him as you dozed, but he knows he can’t risk you seeing something you shouldn’t. So he’d eased you onto the couch, having to peel your hands away from his shirt. He’d nearly given up and let you keep hold of his shirt before you finally relaxed and released him. 

“Would probably be more comfortable.” He rubs his eyes, feeling the call of sleep himself. He wonders how much you managed to sleep while they were gone. You look tired, though you’ve been looking tired since your heat ended. He needs to rest himself, but he wants to get these reports done so he can keep his promise for tomorrow. “I'll be in there soon.”

“Don't work too hard.” Kyle says, moving to lift you off the couch. 

“No promises.” 

Kyle shakes his head before scooping you up off the couch, blanket and all. You’re still sound asleep as he carries you, pausing in the hallway for a moment. He had just been instinctually going to his room, but would you be more comfortable in your own room? You probably have spent the last week shut inside your space. It might be nice to spend some time somewhere else. 

He takes you into his room, laying you on the bed, making sure you’re comfortable. He needs to shower and throw his clothes in the wash, but he doesn’t want to leave you and risk you waking up without someone there. You’re sleeping deeply, though, not even stirring as he tucks the blanket up higher around you. He doesn't want to crawl into bed smelling like gunpowder and sweat. That might throw you off too. 

He takes the risk, knowing he can do both tasks quickly. No more than twenty minutes to get himself clean and his dirty clothes in the wash, as he prays you stay asleep and won't start panicking if you wake in a strange place. He had sensed how close you had been to distress, how tense you had been when he held you in the car. It’s been a hard week for you, even harder than it had been for them. 

He breathes out a quiet sigh of relief as he finds you still asleep when he returns to his room. You haven't moved at all, still tucked under the blanket from John's office. He gets himself changed and moisturized, rubbing some cream on the bruises that dot his skin. He's going to be sore tomorrow, they all will be, but he knows they won't be doing much. John had already told them tomorrow will be dedicated to spending time with you and helping you recover from the stress of them being gone. He’s silently glad for the break, knowing it could only be a few days before they get called out again. 

John had also told him he’d be pushing harder for one of them to stay whenever he can. He’s not taking this risk again, not if it can be avoided. 

Kyle’s pulling on his sweatpants when you inhale sharply. You're sitting up straight on his bed, eyes wide as you look around in fear. They’re hazy, confusion settling into your mind after going from John’s office to Kyle’s room after kneeling. 

“Hey, hey. It's alright.” Kyle says, moving over to the bed, taking a seat on the edge so he’s in your line of sight. “You're just in my room.”

“Kyle?” You whisper, clarity returning to your gaze as you stare at him. 

“I'm here.” He says. “Just went to take a shower and clean up.”

“Where's John?” You ask, tears gathering in your eyes. 

“Still working on things.” He says, cupping your face. “He'll be in eventually.”

The tears fall from your eyes, sliding down your cheeks. They wet his thumbs as he strokes your skin, your body trembling slightly as you sniffle. 

Something’s wrong. He's known it since you latched onto him on the tarmac. The way you'd held onto him like he might disappear, how you looked almost angry when John told you they still had things to do, the way your scent had filled the barracks, bitter with fear and stress. 

Something’s up, something you're not letting them in on. But, to be fair, they had just left you for a week, up and abandoned you to go play heroes. He wouldn't blame you for not telling them anything. The bonds have weakened. He can feel it, beyond just his natural beta senses. 

“What can I do?” He asks quietly, trying to project his scent a bit to help calm you. He doesn't want you distressing, not after holding it together for so long. 

“I...I need...” You inhale shakily, still trembling in his hold. “I don't know.” You whine, the tears falling faster now. 

He pulls you against his chest, holding you as you cry. He feels the tugging in his chest, sympathy for you and what you must be feeling, along with the guilt of knowing they caused this. They did this just with their absence. 

An idea begins to form in his mind as he holds you, something his family used to do when he was younger. 

He pulls away from you, standing up. “Come on. I have an idea.” 

He strips the blankets from his bed before pulling the mattress off the frame. He drags it to the door and out into the hallway before heading down to John's room. You follow behind him, watching him as he opens the door to John’s room, dragging the mattress in and dropping it on the floor. 

“Stay here.” He tells you, heading back out into the hallway.

“What're ye doin’?” Johnny asks, sticking his head out of his door. 

“Grab your mattress and Simon and meet me in Price's room.” Kyle says as he heads down the hallway, ignoring Johnny's further questioning as he makes for John’s office. 

He doesn't bother knocking, walking right in. John blinks at him from behind the desk, and for a moment Kyle wonders if he'd fallen asleep sitting up. It wouldn't be the first time. 

“Come on.” Kyle says, moving to stand in front of his desk. “Finish those tomorrow.”

“They're important, I have to get them done asap.” John counters. 

“Yeah, well I have something more important.” He leans forward at John's questioning stare. “Your omega needs you.” 

John stares at his beta for a moment, and Kyle can see the gears turning in his head, the debate happening, the conflict in his mind. He so rarely sees his alpha, his captain so indecisive for so long. He's usually so quick to act, analyzing a situation and making a decision in mere seconds. 

If only you knew the things you've done by simply existing in their lives. 

John closes the file on his desk, slipping it into the drawer before locking it. Kyle fights the triumphant grin threatening to form on his face as John stands from his chair after shutting his computer off. Kyle makes his way back down the hallway, John following behind after locking his office door. Kyle stops at his room, grabbing his comforter before heading for John’s room. 

Johnny had obviously gotten the idea of what Kyle had in mind, his mattress and John's laid out side by side so the three make one giant bed for them on the floor. He’s already laid out his own comforter and Simon’s, as well as John’s on the mattresses. They probably wouldn’t need blankets for long with their body heat, but the blend of scents will hopefully begin to ease the tempest raging in your mind. 

You’ve parked yourself in the corner, watching it all happen. You seem so small, so lost, so out of place. It's not all that different from when you'd arrived in their lives. Has being gone for a week really reverted things so drastically for you? Has your stress broken the bonds so much that you feel like a stranger amongst them again? 

Kyle steps over the mattresses, approaching you slowly. You look up from where you had been staring off into space, blinking up at him. Your eyes are still red and watery from crying, your arms clutching one of your stuffed bears against your chest. It’s the one John had scented for you, back when they were trying to get you to nest. He wonders if you’ve nested since they left, if that urge is still there, or if that too has faded. 

Kyle doesn’t often feel angry at his job. Not anymore. He doesn’t often question it. It’s what he signed up for, and he does it because someone has to. He chose this life, so he does his best to be a good soldier, to follow orders. Yet, as he stares down at you, he can’t help but feel anger bristling in the back of his mind. He tries to blame it on his instincts, on the fact that a member of his pack is so upset, so distressed at something that’s happened, and he doesn't know what to do to help. 

Yet he knows they were the cause of it, even if it wasn’t their choice directly. Something happened because of them. He tries to rationalize it. This is an experiment, a test to see how well packs will do with omegas, if it has any effect on how well they can do their jobs, if it makes them stronger, or if it weakens them. Those in charge had obviously put little regard in for how it would affect the omegas. They couldn’t have known how you would react, how badly all of them leaving would affect you. Or maybe they did know, and they simply didn’t care.. Perhaps you weren’t the focus of their study, but you were still a variable, you were still an important piece of this puzzle. 

How can they be more effective if their omega is struggling because of their absence? How can they be expected to function like a team now knowing leaving behind their omega will only cause distress for all of them? 

Kyle takes a deep breath, pushing back the anger and the emotions whirling in his own mind. He needs to focus on you right now, focus on helping you relax, helping you get back to where you were before they left you. He’s doing the best he can do right now for you, giving you what you need, even if you don’t realize it’s what you need yet. 

He holds out his hand to you, staying still as you stare at it. It takes you a moment before you slowly begin to move, slipping one of your hands into his. He guides you to the mattress in the middle, Johnny’s mattress, easing you down to sit on it. You glance around as Johnny and John toss pillows onto the mattresses haphazardly, making sure everything is perfect. It’s not a pretty nest, he’d hardly call it a nest at all, but he knows nesting is not necessarily all about looks. It’s about feeling, and right now, he knows you need to feel safe and secure. 

John quickly changes into more comfortable clothes as Kyle stretches out on the mattress, opening his arms to you. You curl up against his side, resting your cheek against his chest. You press your face into his skin, inhaling for a moment before you settle, slowly beginning to relax in his hold. 

Simon enters the room as John settles on Kyle’s other side, closing the door behind him and locking it, securing the five of you inside. Johnny settles on the other side of you, pressing up close against your back. He pulls one of the comforters up around the three of you before he tosses an arm around you, resting his hand on Kyle’s stomach, sandwiching you between the two betas again. 

Simon stands over the makeshift nest, staring down at the four of you. He’s obviously the most uncomfortable with the situation, and still a bit miffed from your lack of greeting on the tarmac. It was his own fault for being so closed off with you for so long. You had instinctively sought out the members of the pack you felt the most connected to, the most comfortable with in your time of such great stress. 

“Aw come on, ye big bastard, get in the bed.” Soap says, snapping Simon out of his reverie. 

Simon shuts the light off, bathing them in near darkness. You tense for a moment as the lights go off before you slowly relax again. Kyle listens to your breaths even out as Simon gets comfortable on the mattress behind Johnny, the four of them settling in around you. 

It's already warm in the room but none of them would even think of complaining. They’re too focused on surrounding you with their scent and their protection, the very thing you need the most. 

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#call of duty #call of duty fic #task force 141 x reader #poly task force 141 #john price x reader #captain price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #x reader #alpha/beta/omega #a/b/o #omegaverse

[bbydoll18xx]

Brats Get Punished

You choose to be a brat. Punishment ensues.

Paige Bueckers x reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Themes: slight angst, smut (18+)

I got wine drunk and came up with this. This is pure filth. I'm so sorry

Today had fucking sucked. 

No. Scratch that. The whole week had fucking sucked.

You held back tears as you walked through uconn’s campus, heading back to your dorm. All you wanted was to be taken care of. This week had been wracked with a million assignments, frustrating exams, and  family drama you couldn’t escape, even all the way in Connecticut. The cherry on the top of the miserable sundae was your lack of Paige. With basketball season ramping up and finals nearing, you hadn’t seen your girlfriend in five whole days. 

It felt like five days without air.

The thought makes your heart ache once again, and you throw on your sunglasses to hide the redness of your swollen eyes.

The bitter northeastern cold of early December made you shiver as you shoved your hands deeper into your pockets.

It was finally friday. 

Tonight you could escape into the vastness of Paige’s blue eyes. You had no thoughts when you were with her, just habitual feelings of comfort and intimacy you couldn’t get from anyone else. 

You were looking forward to cocky smirks, long, talented fingers, and a mouth that had a power to shut you up in more ways than one.

Fuck.

The thought makes your bottom lip quiver. Usually, you had a little bit more of a general grip on things; you could handle your emotions perfectly fine, thank you very much. But the overwhelming shitiness makes you want to pout and whine until you get your way. You felt sorry for anyone dealing with your bratty ass tonight. Namely Paige, but you knew she could handle it.

Trudging up the stairs to your dorm and stomping into your room, you dramatically fling yourself onto your bed. You lay there momentarily before you hear a gentle knock on your door.

Groaning, you head to open it and find Paige standing there with an apprehensive look on her face. You barely have time to register why she would be anything but ecstatic to see you before launching yourself at her taller frame.

She stumbles back at the sudden force of your body but recovers quickly, wrapping her arms around your middle and bringing you into a tight hug.

You let out all the air and frustration that had been pent up over the last week as soon as you connect.

“Paigey,” you whine, “I missed you so fucking much.” Your hands roam her body, trying to cling to her in an effort to never let her go. 

“I missed you, too, baby…” she trails quietly. 

That was weird. Why wasn't she excited to see you? Paige was always characteristically exuberant around you, and she was excitement personified. This Paige was not your Paige, and your stomach rolled with worry.

“Geno is having us do an extra practice tonight,” she explains carefully.

Your heart drops into your ass. No wonder she seemed off.

As you realize that you would be spending yet another night alone, your eyes well up with thick, hot, and angry tears. You spin on your heels, retreating back into your room in defeat.

“C’mon, talk to me. It’s not like I want to be away from you. As soon as I’m done with practice, I’ll come right over. I’ll even pick up your favorite ice cream,” she tries to reason.

“W-want you now,” you stutter out. Your words start to slur together with frustration. “Don’t even care anymore; just go away.” 

Your venomous words don't dissuade the pang in your heart. Of course you didn’t want her to go. And of course you still cared. But you were feeling like a brat and you were a glutton for punishing yourself.

“Ya know, you might want to watch your attitude,” Paige grits out. Her jaw tenses in a way that makes you squeeze your thighs together. 

Then you remember you were supposed to be pissed. You roll your tear-filled eyes and cross your arms with a huff. This exasperates your blonde girlfriend even further. 

“Once you stop acting like a fucking brat, give me a call, and then I’d be happy to give you some attention. Stop punishing me for shit I can’t control.” Paige says with an impressive amount of restraint. She turns around to leave with one last disappointed glance in your direction.

In her harsh exit, you fall apart. 

Sitting in your dark room, cocooned in your sadness, guilt, and general horniness, you watch the hours slip by. 

8:00

9:00

10:00

Your eyes are tired with both sleep and grief by the time the clock turns to 11:00, but you can’t ignore the way you were pulsating with desire just thinking about Paige.

Your brain wrestles with either keeping up your facade of nonchalance and running to Paige, apologies spilling from your mouth with desperation. You were so damn stubborn, never wanting to back down, but you could barely think anymore. 

Your fingers dance around the hem of Paige’s soft t-shirt you had stolen. You fight with yourself internally before pulling it over your head with a groan. Your sweatpants quickly follow.

Dating Paige meant there was rarely a need for self-pleasure. Why would you when she was always at your beck and call?

Huffing at the sheer stupidity of the situation, you close your eyes and bring one hand to your left tit, rolling your nipple experimentally. It feels nice, but you needed more. 

You always needed more.

Your right hand trails down your stomach sensually, leaving goosebumps in its wake, and lands on the swollen nub that holds all the pleasure. Circling your clit, you try to coax out an orgasm. Your pussy was sopping after spending the evening thinking about Paige, but nothing was clicking for you. You let out a small whine of annoyance.

Your hand felt too small, too cold, too wrong. 

Nevertheless, you were fucking desperate. The unkindness of the past week had been even more cruel to your sex life. You hadn’t cum in what felt like forever. You needed this. 

Hesitantly, you enter a finger into your dripping hole. Again, it feels nice, but the angle is all too wrong. If Paige was here, you’d already be panting like a whore, begging for another finger and her tongue.

You pull out of yourself, sucking the wetness off your finger before throwing yourself back down onto the pillows. 

‘Fuck,’ you thought. It was time to surrender. You needed Paige.

Before you can overthink some more and chicken out, you feel your body pull itself out of your dorm all the way to Paige’s apartment. It's as if you have no control over your idiotic, lovestruck brain.

Paige was patient, and she was so in love with you, but you knew you’d be doing some serious groveling tonight. ‘And hopefully having some seriously good sex,’ you think slyly. 

Feeling bashful, you knock on her door. You knew she was out of practice now, and you were ready to give up your tortured whining in order to finally get what you needed. 

Paige opens the door, looking down at you with a knowing smirk. “Lemme guess, babe. You need me,” she purrs in a mocking tone that makes you want to jump her bones.

You want to protest, but you know it would be no use. She knew she held all of the power over you, and she was not going to let you walk away unscathed tonight.

“Baby, I‘m sorry,” you sigh, trying to appear as solemn as you could. “This week just got the best of me. It’s not your fault you had practice.” You really were sorry, but you were more concerned about fixing the dampness in your panties than you were about coming off as regretful about your past attitude.

Paige reaches out a hand to draw you in closer, pulling you into her familiar warmth. You could feel yourself melt into her, worries evaporating quickly. Her eyes softened at your apology, but you could still see a sadistic glint in them. 

You were so getting it tonight. You didn’t care as long as it ended with your back arching off Paige’s bed, her name leaving your lips continuously, like a prayer.

The hand that was resting on your hip trails up to rest loosely around your throat. Her thumb caresses your carotid pulse, which was pounding dangerously in her wake. She smirks at your blatant anticipation before leaning down to suck right at her favorite little spot just under your ear.

You moan lasciviously, almost causing you to miss the words she whispers next.

“Get your ass on my bed. You know what position I want you in.”

Your face heats up, and your stomach lurches. You knew you were getting the dominant version of your girlfriend tonight, but to this extent? This side of her rarely came out. You swallow thickly as you grasp the consequences of just how far you had taken things earlier.

As much as Paige’s dominant side made you feel timid, your desire to get thrown around and fucked out took over.

“Now, you little slut,” she all but growls, as you hesitate, your thoughts and apprehension momentarily stilling you. The degradation of her words ignites a flame in the pit of your belly once more, and you fall headfirst into subspace. 

You stumble into her bedroom, throwing your sweatshirt over your head haphazardly and shimmying out of your pants. Out of the corner of your eye, you see your nearly naked figure in her full-length mirror, taking a second to admire the swell of your ass and the heaving of your chest. 

Leaving you in nothing but a plain black thong, you kneel on Paige’s bed, your ass resting on your heels in a display of submission that had you wanting to be good, so good, for your blonde girlfriend. 

Paige leaves you waiting for a few minutes, making you squirm anxiously. You didn’t know what to expect with her tonight. The last time you acted this childishly, you weren’t allowed to cum. ‘Bratty whores don’t get to cum,’ you recalled her whispering in your ear mercilessly. 

‘If that was the case tonight, I might just die,’ you think as you desperately shift your thighs in an attempt to feel an ounce of pleasure.

Soon enough, Paige strolls in looking smug at your visible distress.

“My poor baby,” she pouts derisively, eliciting a whine from your mouth at the mention of you being her baby. “Why don’t you tell me why you decided to come apologize tonight. I know it wasn’t just because you were feeling guilty.” She looks up and down at you expectantly, waiting for a bullshit excuse she knew she was getting.

You realize that lying would get you absolutely nowhere with her tonight, and you decide to be honest. “Need you,” you mumble, you face feeling hot once more. “Tried touching myself. Didn’t feel as good as you…” you trail off. 

Paige’s face lights up at this admission, and she grins sinfully. “Get on your back and show me how you tried to touch yourself,” she softly demands. She had tried to get you to masturbate in front of her before, but you had always been too embarrassed to do so. It felt so ridiculously private, and the thought of her seeing your failed attempts to get off without her made you want to hide under the blankets. 

“C’mon, baby girl,” she coaxes. “If you want me to touch you, you gotta touch yourself first.” 

You stare at her, jutting out your bottom lip in protest before sighing in defeat. You adjust yourself against her pillows at the top of the bed and spread your legs teasingly. 

‘Might as well make a show of it if I have to do this,’ you think, trying to find a way to feel more comfortable with the sheer act of perversion.

Paige settles in on the edge of the bed. She had the perfect view of your soaked pussy, still hidden beneath your black thong, and of your peaked nipples, begging to be licked and bitten. You run your hands up and down your body a few times, just as you had earlier in your bedroom, trying to put on a performance to appease your girlfriend. You needed her to be in the best possible mood.

After spending a few moments tending to your tits, squeezing them with an appropriate amount of vigor, you take off your panties and throw them to Paige. She catches them, and upon seeing how soaked they were, says, “this is turning you on, isn’t it? You like having to touch yourself in front of me. Such a naughty, little slut."

You bite your lip, but nod reluctantly. This was fucking embarrassing, but it turned you on, and you hated having to admit that to her. 

“Knew it,” she responded arrogantly. “Keep going.” 

You dip a finger into your folds and swirl the wetness around your weeping hole before bringing it back up to your needy and swollen clit. A few circles around it and you’re already letting out puffs of air. Just the sight of Paige in front of you has you panting. 

You sneak a glance at Paige, seeing her enthralled by your performance. The idea of being able to please her makes you want to keep going, but you hoped you wouldn’t have to be responsible for your own orgasms tonight. Your pussy belonged to her.

“Please, P,” you moan. “I need you. My fingers aren’t enough.” 

She pretends to think about it before shaking her head with a stupid grin on her face. She was getting way too much enjoyment out of this. You let out a huff in annoyance before entering two of your slim fingers into your pussy and thrusting harshly upwards towards your g-spot. 

You knew you’d never really had any luck getting off this way. The angle was too weird, and your fingers were too small to really get you anywhere. The only g-spot you could reach was Paige’s, and you whimper at the lack of pleasure you were getting. 

Feeling incredibly frustrated, you make eye contact with the blonde, and plead with her to do something, anything, to get you closer to the finish line.

“Want some help?” Paige asks smugly. You desperately nod. “Beg,” she says shortly. 

Fuck. You had told yourself you wouldn’t beg tonight. But you were feeling hopeless, so if she wanted you to beg, you would. 

“Please, please, please, Paigey, I'll do anything for you, just touch me,” you moan brokenly. “Just need you, only you, don’t want anyone else, please, baby, please,” you let out, words overlapping each other with a vicious need to prove to her that you needed her with your whole being. 

It must’ve done the trick because before you can even register what is happening, she's on top of you, fervently kissing you and groping your tits. You preen at the attention, finally getting what you’ve wanted and needed all week, and kiss her back. You welcome the taste of her tongue in your mouth, getting drunk on the way she alternates between kissing your lips and your neck.

As she trails her kisses down your neck to your chest, you watch her lips close over a nipple, sucking it in gently before biting down, causing a gasp to leave your now swollen lips. Paige grins wickedly at your reaction, but she continues her descent towards your drenched pussy.

You buck your hips to try and meet her mouth, but she presses them back down with strong hands and avoids the area altogether. She presses hot, open mouth kisses onto your inner thighs, making you squirm even more.

Her touch, or lack thereof, made you want to cry. You needed more stimulation or you might just die.

Paige studies your wetness for a moment before meeting your eyes. She has a mischievous glint in her eye that makes your belly turn in anticipation. 

“I’ll eat you out, baby,” she simpers, “but you still need to be punished.”

You wrinkle your brow in confusion. This wasn’t punishment?

“What’d you mean?” you ask reluctantly.

Paige sits up and pats her lap. “Get your ass over on my lap. Since you decided to act like a brat earlier, I’m going to punish you like one.”

Your heart pounds once more at the realization you were about to be spanked by your girlfriend. So much for thinking you were getting let off easy tonight. 

You drape yourself across Paige’s lap, suddenly feeling extra grateful for the apartment’s emptiness tonight. It was rare that you and Paige got time to yourselves, and the idea of anyone hearing you being subjected to this was enough to make you want to hide forever.

The first smack comes quicker than you were expecting and reverberates through the small room. If it wasn’t for Paige anchoring you to her, you would’ve flown off in shock. The sharpness of the swat forces blood into your cheeks.

You internally curse yourself for how much you enjoy it. Three slaps follow in quick succession, and before you know it, you’re even more of a moaning mess in Paige’s lap. You have to force yourself to stop from grinding your hips in an effort to chase some pleasure to accompany the delicious pain of your punishment. 

Paige rubs a few circles on your ass, admiring the gorgeous pinkness that blooms under her hand. 

“Fuck, you little slut,” she murmurs. “Of course you’re enjoying this shit.”

You shake your head in protest, but to no avail. You knew she could see right through your bullshit, and she rolled her eyes fondly. “I think I’ve put my girl through enough. Are you ready to be a good girl for me?” she questions. 

“I’ll be so good. Promise,” you moan into her neck, causing her to let out a giggle.

Paige lays you onto your back once more and finally brings her mouth down to your sex. She dives in, circling your clit with her hot, wet tongue, and immediately adds two long fingers into your dripping hole with no warning. You arch off the bed wantonly, relishing in the pleasure you had been chasing for days. 

She spreads your legs apart even further, attempting to get even deeper into you. For both of you, it would never be enough. The sheer amount of desire you felt for the woman between your thighs swelled in the moment, and you feel yourself inch closer to the edge. You teeter at the brink, reveling in the throes of pleasure and passion. 

You’re babbling now-straight bullshit leaving your lips, mixing apologies and pleading for Paige to let you cum.

Paige is now full on assaulting your pussy. Three lengthy digits pushing at your g-spot at a punishing pace and sucking your clit like it was a fucking lollipop. 

Moans, groans, and slick noises fill the room. It was pure depravity, and you were both loving every second of it. In a final plea to let you cum, Paige concedes smugly. She knew she had turned your bratty ass into a whimpering mess, and she was going to relish in you coming undone in front of her. 

As soon as you get the green light, you all but scream, feeling as if everything is snapping into place all at once. Your chest heaves and your thighs try to close around Paige’s head, feeling suddenly overstimulated. Pushing them back out, Paige forces you to ride out the orgasm fully. 

“Fuck,” you groan. That was the hardest you’d cum in a while, due to the absolute buildup of it all.

Licking her lips seductively, Paige meets you in a searing kiss that makes you melt back into her soft bedding once more. Paige was always so gentle with you after being particularly dominant. 

“Gonna go get a rag. Don’t move. Gonna take good care of my sweet girl. So good for me tonight,” she praises. 

Too fucked out to protest, you lay back, allowing her to pamper you. Your eyes felt as heavy as rocks, and you struggled to stay awake.

“I really am sorry,” you mumble sleepily into her neck. “Didn't want to make you mad. Just needed you.”

“I know, baby,” Paige replies tenderly. “Not sure if the spanking was an actual punishment, though.”

You giggle at her admission. It really wasn’t. 

In fact, you were already scheming ways to get another spanking. 

‘Once a brat, always a brat.’ 

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #wlw

[sunkissed-zegras]

I’m just saying…. headcannons for paige with a bestfriend to partner who’s an introvert.

And I mean those introverts who seem quiet but the moment they get comfortable around you it’s over, but like only they get to see that side.

Paige seems like an extrovert that adopts introverts, like just imagine her having to drag her partner out of their room all the time cuz they’re a damn hermit.

-🐹

─ warnings | mention of drinking, teasing, fluff, nothin' else?

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

honestly, you are so right in that assumption

she definitely gets closer with more introverted people, bc opposites DO really attract

when you guys first met it was your freshman year at uconn, at first you'd probably think she's WAY too much ─ maybe even cocky LOL (but who can blame her she's the best)

but when you spend more one on one time with her, you realize she's really funny and sweet

because you're so quiet, paige would be naturally drawn to you cus she gets to know you

so she just pesters you until you eventually give in and hang out with her

from that point on, the one is never seen without the other

you guys would always be together

but like... usually, you're just WITH paige so people don't really acknowledge you cus you're so quiet

but then paige would like force you to socialize

"this is y/n, i promise she's fun you just gotta put a little liquor in her-" "PAIGE."

she would push you toward her close friends the most, def like ice, azzi, nika and kk

ESPECIALLY kk!

and then you eventually would get really close with them, you all have your cute little friend group

you and ice would make fun of paige and kk together, you and azzi are kinda similar so you find yourself hanging out with her alone a lot more, and nika would force you out your shell a lot too

after a couple months of being friends, paige would definitely find herself catching feels

like i've said in my other headcanons, she just thinks you're such a big source of comfort for her and it slowly just becomes full-on adoration cus

she adores you

and you compliment her personality so well she is just like "i NEED to have her right now"

she ends up confessing one night after a really terrible game and then y'all kiss ...

and the rest is history 🤗🤗🤗

jk here's some relationship headcanons

again, you are so right nonnie

like i mentioned, one is never seen without the other

so you're always tied at the hip, especially at parties

at first she has to force you

like FULL force

she calls backup ofc ice and kk come and then its 3 vs 1

they end up winning

and this happens time and time again, you just get so worn down you'd rather just endure the damn party then listen to all three of them scream at you

which was the goal 🥰

and you're definitely the sober one 95% of the time so you will be taking care of a very drunk paige

(maybe some separate headcanons for her if yall want)

and sometimes even ice/kk but it's mostly just your girlfriend

anyway, yeah you take her home, take of her and then get her into bed

and when you try to leave she will be so dramatic, she forces you to stay with her

you don't mind cus you love cuddly paige

but the 5% when you're the one who's blackout drunk, paige is gonna take such good care of you

because you're so introverted when you're sober, you're probably gonna be such a rowdy drunk

yes im her shes me

so paige makes sure you don't get into trouble and gets you home safe and sound

but if you do something stupid, she will never ever let you live it down

"remember that time you jumped into the pool and-" "SHUT THE FUCK UP"

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers #wcbb #wcbb x reader #uconn huskies #uconn #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #ncaa women’s basketball #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers headcannons

[johnslittlespoon]

curtbuckbucky nightclub au .* :☆ﾟ. ☽

open for drabble/more pics! <3

alright, i've never done a proper 'intro' post for a fic/au i have in mind, but this one has been rotting in my brain for ages and i know there's no way i'm not gonna write something for it eventually so here goes, bear with me <3 made a lil edit (took me fucking hours to collect enough stock footage lmfao) to go along with it too >:)

a modern au where college student curt is a regular at a new–ish queer nightclub, showing up every friday night without fail to dance his heart out, his way of de–stressing at the end of every week and getting his pent up energy out. he's the prettiest little thing, dresses up so fun– some nights he throws on dresses or crop tops with skirts or short shorts when he's feeling it, other nights he goes for more of a relaxed baggy pants and flowy linen button up type of vibe– always with the same pair of scuffed up sneakers on for ease of dancing.

the bartenders and other regulars adore their bubbly little club bunny, always looking out for him, doting on him with free drinks and food. and even if some of them eye curt like he's dinner when he's out on the floor swaying his hips, eyes closed to fully lose himself in the music, the glitter on his eyelids and cheekbones catching the lights just right, curt's not there for any of that. he dances with people occasionally, he's confident and carefree and likes the attention and it makes him giggle when he catches newcomers staring, doesn't mind a wandering hand here and there, but he never goes home with anyone. the same routine, every friday, dancing until his dark waves are curling damp with sweat against his temples and his black eyeshadow is smudged and he leaves to make the walk back to the flat he shares with a few roomies.

enter john and gale, longterm boyfriends who sometimes like to go out clubbing and find someone pretty to bring home for a fun time, only an open relationship in that sense– they have no interest in actually dating other people, both adamant that it's no strings attached, too head over heels for each other to have eyes for anyone else anyway.

they decide to check out a club they haven't been to yet, usually sticking to the tried and true ones, but a couple of their friends recommend it, so they give it a go one friday night. they've barely sat down at the bar with their drinks when they see a boy who, john comments to gale, looks like the 'energizer bunny' (gets a snort out of curt when he tells him so in the future.) even once they're buzzed enough to head out onto the dance floor together, neither of them can take their eyes off of the bundle of energy, mesmerized.

they both know the other is equally enamoured with the boy, drinking up all the glitter and bouncy curls and blissed out smiles, already knowing they just have to have him– the prettiest thing they've ever seen. curt's confused when they approach him, because he's noticed them too, has been admiring from afar, but he's also noticed their hands and lips all over each other, dancing much too close and comfortably to not be a couple. but john purrs out "we just like to have a little fun every now and then sweetheart, don't you?"

and no, not really, he doesn't. usually a night of exhausting himself dancing is his idea of fun, not ever looking for anything else, not finding most guys worth his time. but john and gale sweet talk him just right, spend time actually getting to know him when he agrees to let them buy him a drink at the bar, and fuck, they're both the hottest things he's seen walk into the club in a long time, and they're giving him all their attention? he decides that maybe he'll be brave and flirt back. despite his confidence and lack of caring what other people think about him, he's so shy and easily flustered when someone he's actually into makes the moves on him, doesn't even know what to do with himself when he realizes he's blushing at their compliments and the combination of their heavy gazes on him.

obviously they all get each other worked up as the night goes on, and curt goes home with them and gets his world rocked, spoiled and pillow princess–ed and showered in praise, not at all what he expects hook–ups to be like after having only been with people he's been dating. he expects to walk back home after since they all live in the same vicinity of downtown, tries to ignore his wobbly legs when he finally crawls out of bed, gets dragged back down by gale for one last messy breathless makeout while john gets him an uber before curt can protest or offer to pay.

normally john and gale don't get the numbers of their one night stands, but they want to make sure he gets home safe, and they can both gauge how the other is feeling and they know they'll want to see him again if they're lucky enough for curt to say yes, so john puts his number into curt's phone and tells him "text when you're home safe, yeah? or, y'know, text whenever you want." and curt isn't sure if this is john saying they both want to see him again, because he's dense and shy and they made it clear beforehand that they're in a closed relationship, but next friday he texts to let them know he'll be at the club again, and john and gale tell him they'll be there, the three of them going home together for a second time that night, and they fall into a routine from then on.

curt gets giddy every friday, dolling himself up extra pretty for the two men, flushed at their attention every time and so thrilled to dress up for someone other than himself for once. he can already feel himself going all heart–eyes for them after the second or third time they hook up, but he knows where he stands, and he's having fun experimenting for the first time and having two experienced, sweet guys show him a good time every week, so he doesn't want to jeopardize that by getting his feelings involved.

little does he know that john and gale are falling head over heels too for this sweet energetic boy, loving how much he spices up their lives, both in the bedroom and out, realizing their flat feels so quiet now on the nights where they don't take curt home with them. so that leads to some serious conversations to see if they're on the same page about getting to know curt better, both of them learning how to navigate this new territory because neither of them expected to want to bring someone else into their world like this. they agree they'd like to take curt out on a cute date, during the daytime for once, to properly test the waters and see how curt feels– of course he slots into their lives perfectly, as if he's been there all along. <3

but along the way: lots of slow burn, miscommunication, endless filthy smut, curt trying to balance college and work and friends with his newfound feelings for john and gale, john and gale getting dragged to raves and festivals by their always adventurous bf, city night–life juxtaposed by early morning domesticity, etc etc.

this has been floating around in my head for a couple weeks since i got this vision of 2012–stalker–era barry with eyeshadow and glitter stuck in my brain and thus a whole universe/plot spawned from it. honestly would mostly be pwp, but would love to write a proper fic for it anyway eventually, each chapter littered with filth, obviously LOL. i have so many thoughts and so many little scenarios planned out in my head already... these three have me in a chokehold.

i need to make proper intro/drabble posts like these for my other aus too aghhh it just takes so longggg because i get carried away with the drabble and then i have to find the perfect clips for edits and the perfect pics to tie it all together and suddenly i've spent half a day on one post but. someday <3 leaving!bikeriders au next surely! thx for reading hope u enjoy this version of the boys and hopefully i'll have time to write it soon!

all posts about this au will be under #curtbuckbucky nightclub au :-)

#curtbuckbucky nightclub au #johnslittlespoon aus #i'm going fr insane over this actually tweaking #i hope my vision is seen. will happily elaborate (too much) #is this essentially femboy!curt? perhaps. can you blame me tho have u seen 2012 barry how can we *not* want him in pretty skirts and makeup #not my strongest drabble ik but it's more of an au info dump :) #where my girlboy!barry enjoyers at bc this ones for us fr #the edit song is an unreleased one by artemas btw </3 #and i lit rally could not find any good club–esque clips from any callum movies to use so just pretend he's not in his pilot uniform LOL #curtbuckbucky #curtgalejohn #johnslittlespoon brainrot #johnslittlespoon edits

[holly-opal]

Hello...I wanted to make a request that I don't know if it's something personal and I understand that you don't want to do it...but you could do a mr puzzle x helping a reader who suffers from hypersexuality... I will understand that if it may seem uncomfortable to you I won't force you to do it, I just want to feel comfortable with my favorite character

Of course, I am sorry if I do this wrong. I have never written hypersexuality before, so forgive me if I do this wrong.

Tw: Mildly sexual content. Implied SA.

You were walking to your dressing room when Mr. Puzzles went up to you, he put a hand on your shoulder and gave you a warm smile, he asked if you could see him in his office later today, he wanted to talk about something. You blushed and nodded, you have always liked Mr. Puzzles, you found him charming and quite the lovely person to be around, and he was very attractive for a man with a TV for a head, then your mind began to wander and you thought about the two of you together, in your bed hugging and kissing each other, and you two taking your clothes off.... You were doing that again. Thinking sexually about someone or wanting to do sexual things with someone. You felt disgusted with yourself, and thought that Mr. Puzzles wouldn't like that either. He'd probably tell you to piss off, like everyone else you had sexual encounters with. You followed him into his office and sat down in front of him, he offered you a cigarette, you declined. You were never one for smoking, your ex did though, and he was the one who hurt you. Made you do awful things with him. Harmed you in bed. You felt so gross for doing, and even more disgusted with yourself when you actually sorta liked it. He shrugged and blew some smoke, he seemed tense. "I'm going to get real with you, Y/N. I am not very happy with ratings. I am working so hard and yet I'm not getting good results. And production is going up in flames. Ugh..." Mr. Puzzles smoked some more, he was stressed, you had an idea on how to release it though. You got up from your chair and sat on his lap, he started blush and stare at you in surprise, you began to praise him for his good work and rubbed your hands on his chest.

Mr. Puzzles was touched by this, his face was beet red and he was starting to like it. But he see that you weren't doing this out of your own volition, he could tell that you weren't happy about this. He grabbed your wrists and put them away, you were afraid now, you didn't know what came over you, you expected him to get mad at you or throw you off of him or hit you. He didn't though, he picked up you and set you down on your feet. He sighed and kneeled down to your level, you began to tear up and look away from his gaze. He had seen this kind of behavior before, in television and in his actors. He gave you a very big hug, you started to cry and hugged him back. Those thoughts in your head were killing you. 'Your disgusting', 'nobody will love you if you keep doing that', 'your just like your ex, only worse'. You've heard these words before, but still, it kept repeating in your head multiple times. You were sobbing into Puzzle's shoulder, leaving a wet spot of where your tears went. Mr. Puzzles pulled away from the hug, ye was smiling at you, and he was patting you in the back.

"Mi amor, I know that you are hurting, but this isn't the right way to go. You don't have to give yourself to me so that I could feel better. I am not mad, but we need to work on your issues." You nodded, wiping away some tears with your sleeves. Mr. Puzzles grabbed a box of tissues and handed some to you, you blew your nose and threw it away. He stood up and held out his hand. "How about this? We'll both talk about safe outlets for your behavior, that way you won't get hurt by anyone. And then afterwards, we can go to dinner. How does that sound?" Mr. Puzzles asked. You smiled and nodded, you clearly needed to work through your issues, a nice talk and maybe even a therapist will help. You took his hand and you both walked out of his office, you felt relieved in a way. He did not judge you, and he even offered to help you, many would've just left you immediately. Your love for him deepened, and his love for you has not changed, you were still his little star.

(Again, I am sorry if I did this wrong. I hope this brings comfort to you, my friend.)

#smg4 mr puzzles #mr puzzles x reader #mr puzzles #puzzlevision arc #smg4 puzzlevision #smg4 ships #smg4

[feyd-rautha-aesthetic]

Love Bites - Chapter III / Sneak Peek!

! This sneak peek is almost continuously about sex, isn't it? But don't worry, the whole chapter also contains other topics. (Known topics - blood & gore, bit! soft Feyd- as usual only to you etc.) Even though I think this will be the chapter with the most smut content. It's going to be disgusting... I think... And mean. Him to you. :p

But also extreme soft, you'll see.

I hate his uncle, everyone hates Vladimir! ಠ_ಠ

❝Then I'll give up the nights with her. But only, when I can talk to her during the day. And by that I also mean outside of training.❞ Feyd spoke more and more firmly with every word. 'Talk' , Vladimir thought mockingly. His nephew shouldn't have mentioned that he had just disturbed their intimacy. He nodded to Feyd, but already had new plans in mind. ❝Make sure you don't make any more mistakes, nephew.❞

Mistakes? Him?

Feyds eyes met the Barons with full force. Anyone else would have pissed themselves in fear. But no matter what Feyd did, Vladimir didn't care. Especially not when you were the topic. Feyd had nothing to say, it was as simple as that. At least as long as his uncle was present. ❝I should have let her kill you yesterday!❞, he said angrily. His voice almost cracked, though he wasn't loud. Yet everyone here could hear his words. The Na-Baron didn't dare to move in those seconds. If he took only one step forward now, he was sure that even the guards wouldn't be able to hold him. He saw one of the ladies next to his uncle dare to raise her head and glance briefly at the young Harkonnen. Feyd recognized her immediately. It was the waitress from last night who had offered you and him the drinks on his celebration. ❝Yes, the offspring will be beautiful. That's for sure!❞ He answered her now. And he knew he had said the words out loud. The lady smiled gently, but lowered her head again. Vladimir turned to the ladies, but did not recognize who had raised their heads. ❝One of them complimented the Na-Baroness yesterday... no, us.❞ Feyd grinned nastily at his uncle. ❝If you continue to make mistakes, she will not bear your offspring!❞ Vladimir continued to clarify.

Shaking with rage again, Feyd left the hall without a word. He felt like you did yesterday, when you walked away suddenly. He swallowed, his eyes wandering back and forth, left to right, wondering how he could avoid his uncle's order. There wasn't much time for intense intimacy during the day. Today the training hall had been an exception because you had been in the same place at the same time and you had teased his ego. Maybe it wouldn't have occurred to him to touch you otherwise. Since he preferred to do it in a bed with you anyway. Or in the thermal, as he had discovered last night. And in that moment, he realized what the strange feeling inside him was. Grief. Even if it wasn't every night, he loved it having your body by his side. No matter whether it was in his chambers or yours. Holding you in his arms. Knowing that you were his property and there was nothing you could do about it. And he had to admit to himself that he liked it when someone felt comfortable in his presence. Except for his whores.

He knew that if Vladimir told them about his words, it wouldn't matter at all that he had only given them to Farris yesterday. And they would certainly be happy to be allowed to pleasure him again. No, to should. Feyd remembered your words, how you had told him in the thermal that it would be fine with you if he became intimate with them again. As long as it would put his uncle in a 'better mood'. And it really did seem that way. That it would make him feel better. The Na-Baron wondered if he could just refuse them. Or would they tell Vladimir? Feyd couldn't think straight at the moment.

-

❝Apologize, my Baroness.❞ , he said as he re-entered the training hall. You hadn't moved a bit, or so it seemed, during his absence. You realized immediately that something was wrong. ❝What happened?❞ , you asked, startled, when you saw the blood on the dagger. ❝My uncle was... talking.❞ Feyd explained as he knelt down to you and cut the tape from your wrists. You shook your aching joints once before he took a look at the irritated skin himself. ❝What did he say?❞, you asked, wanting to know for sure. Feyds appearance had changed. The previous grin was completely gone, now there was anger in him. Maybe even rage he tried to hide. The young man sighed, thinking about how he could explain it. ❝We're not allowed to see each other. Not at night anymore. He doesn't want us to be intimate with each other. The fact that you are my fiancée, the Na-Baroness, doesn't interest him in the slightest. From tonight, there will be guards outside our chambers at night.❞ , he began, kissing your skin below your belly button before pulling your pants back up. ❝Guards?❞ , you asked with wide eyes.

❝Mh-hm.❞ Feyd only said. ❝During the day, I think we can see us... still. But I don't know if he'll stick to those words.❞, he continued. It was hard enough for you to see each other during the day either way. You both couldn't spend the whole day in the training halls either. And even here, you didn't always meet. You looked again at the bloody sword. ❝It's not his blood. Unfortunately.❞ Feyd said. ❝It's from someone insignificant.❞ He took your face in his hands, stroking the dark circles under your eyes again. ❝I'm taking you to bed. You don't look healthy, you're pale. Training won't do you any good, or very little, if you're not in good shape.❞ He spoke as if he were talking about the weather - he sounded uninterested. Confusion spread through you. Mixed with a little fear. You still found it difficult to assess him and his emotions. His strong arms picked you up with ease and you leaned your head against his warm shoulder and, to be honest, were glad that you didn't meet anyone on the way. It must have looked pretty strange the way the Na-Baron was carrying you on his hands.

When you arrived, he carefully lowered your body onto your bed. ❝Drink.❞ , he spoke and gave you the glas bottle of water that was next to your bed. ❝Do you need anything else? Should a servant bring you something?❞ Feyd asked you, resting his head on your thigh. ❝I don't think so, thanks.❞ , you replied after a few sips of the cool liquid. Feyd took the bottle from you and took off your boots. Your pants and top followed, he didn't want you to sleep in those clothes. His eyes were glued to your naked chest, seeing his love bites and hickeys. And it aroused him far too much. ❝Fuck.❞ , he growled as his hands stroked your skin. ❝How dare he rip you from me?❞ , the Harkonnen murmured, slowly settling down and burying his nose in your neck until he finally started to spread kisses over your blotchy skin. ❝I'm going to kill this scum! Slash him open and let him bleed out long and agonizingly! A quick death would be a gift for him, but I won't give him that!❞ Feyd pushed your jaw back up to kiss the thin skin under your chin, down your throat. Marked you with more hickeys.

Only his.

He growled deeply, kissing the soft skin of your breasts. You sighed comfortingly and your slender fingers caressed his muscular shoulders. ❝You have to go.❞, you said quietly. The words hurt yourself as you uttered them. ❝I don't want to!❞ Feyd growled menacingly and his hands gripped tightly around your waist. He wanted to feel that you were with him here and now. He took the dagger with the dried blood from his belt and placed it next to you on the mattress. He didn't want to hurt you now.

You looked at the blade as Feyds lips made their way down your body. The bloody dagger had you so mesmerized for a moment that you hadn't even felt Feyds touch until he pulled your underwear off your legs. He knelt to the floor, pulled your body closer to the edge of the bed and kissed your lower lips as he spread your legs a little more. ❝What about my punishment?❞ , you asked breahthless. ❝That's off topic now!❞ , he snarled and gripped your thighs tightly with both hands.

(☞ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞

#love bites #feyd rautha dune #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha #feyd x reader #vladimir harkonnen #dune giedi prime #giedi prime

[i-guess-im-into-this-now]

The Apothecary Diaries

S1E16 First Watch

Here's where I watch The Apothecary Diaries for the first time and give my thoughts, analysis, predictions, and occasionally I stumble into a joke.

To start at the beginning:

Episode 1

My character/locations cheat sheet

Suiren - Jinshi's attendant

Lakan - mysterious officer

Basan - an officer who works in the palace

Jinshi is deeply divided on whether he should have allowed Lakan access to Maomao. He's going to feel pretty guilty if things go badly.

Jinshi explains the details of the case of the metalworker's estate to Maomao. She's always interested in a mystery.

Jinshi: What's with all the sudden enthusiasm?

Dude is asking a question he knows the answer to.

Solving mysteries is where Maomao shines. Jinshi knows this better than anyone. It's one of the things that knocked him head-over-heels for this lady. But he's a little ticked at how easily Lakan was able to hook Maomao's interest. Lakan who hasn't even met Maomao yet, knew exactly how to lure her out. Perhaps Jinshi was hoping that Maomao would refuse, and release him from the deal he made with Lakan. Why did he agree to this? Jinshi is supremely uneasy with all of it.

As the conversation progresses Jinshi takes a more comfortable position on the couch, no longer bothering to behave as a proper palace official or even an employer in front of Maomao. Rather his pose is more like the casual sprawling one might do with family or friends. Jinshi is so persistent in how he stays open and inviting to Maomao, even in his body language. In this scene, Maomao is kneeling properly at the low table. Her body language is formal.

Lakan had provided an address to follow up with the mystery if it intrigued Maomao.

Maomao: How well prepared. It's like he anticipated this happening.

I do not like this at all. This Lakan is too good at maneuvering Maomao and Jinshi.

Maomao request a day off to look in to the case, and Jinshi is not happy. Not because she's missing work around the residence, but because she walked so willingly into Lakan's well laid plan for her. He's probably also pissed at himself for allowing this, but apparently Jinshi really wants to know the rest of Lakan's courtesan story. Jinshi can't see what Lakan has planned, and he's very worried about Maomao. Suiren is completely fine with Maomao leaving. Smiling and waving? Is she actually happy that Maomao is leaving, or is she looking forward to drowning her in work when she returns? I can't read her yet. I miss Lady Gyokuyou and the Jade Pavilion ladies who were so sweet.

Basan. Another mystery. Damn those golden eyes! Who else had eyes like that?! Maomao said he looks familiar, and he does, but like who? Gaaaaah!

Basan is suppose to escort Maomao on her investigation, and he's still acting like an ass, and I'm still wondering when I can see Jinshi fight him again. Maomao says she can tolerate his bad attitude, since she views him as harmless. That's good, because sometimes with trauma, especially from sexual trauma, aggression can be a trigger. I don't like that she has to just put up with this guy's pissy attitude.

Fuck me, Basan and Gaoshun?! Well a blood relationship between the two at least explains why Jinshi and Gaoshun feel comfortable letting this guy go all around the palace with Maomao. Is Basan a child of Gaoshun or like a nephew or something? Is this going to be enough for Maomao to at least question if Gaoshun is a eunuch or not? No. The answer is no, but she should!

Of course Maomao solves the mystery that was left by the metalworker for his sons. A majority of this episode is spent unraveling this mystery, but as far as I can tell the details aren't important to the larger story, so I'm not going to bother describing the twists and turn of it. Basically we get to see how a father would rather go to extreme lengths to create a puzzle for his sons to try to solve upon his death, then give them words of encouragement or advice while he was still alive. The youngest son tries to reconcile the family by passing on compliments he heard his father say in private and never directly to his children. Maomao wisely bows out of that bullshit, but suggests they seek medical treatment from Luomen if they develop symptoms like their father had.

On the return trip, Basan gives Maomao a considering look. Perhaps he's starting to see how brilliant and capable she is? Maybe he will try to rein in his bad attitude where it comes to Maomao? Or maybe... he will fall in love with her! I don't know why I'm looking for more drama from this show, it's already angsty enough. Even so, maybe a romantic rival would help push Jinshi and Maomao past the standstill they've come to.

Lakan is back. He thanks Jinshi for Maomao's work, which I understand within the context of this show, but it still pisses me off. It smacks of misogyny as it's a subtle way of affirming Jinshi's ownership of Maomao, and demonstrates Lakan's lack of respect for women and servants.

Lakan then goes on to explain what happened sounding far too pleased, like he's already gotten everything he wanted. Jinshi knows all of this is part of a stratagem from Lakan, but what his goal is, is yet unclear. Jinshi doesn't know what happened on Maomao's outing (in his head he refers to her as "the apothecary," here which I find odd). She never reported back about her findings. And maybe that is what has Lakan looking so smug. He's uncovered that truth that Maomao is Jinshi's courtesan in name only. And even though Jinshi may be trying to hide what he feels for Maomao from Lakan, I'm sure Lakan is aware. Maomao is a soft spot to attack or control Jinshi.

Jinshi notes that Lakan is very good at discovering people with talent. And now his attention has landed on Maomao. He talks about the three sons each finding their proper place, and I can't help but think that Lakan believes "finding one's proper place," also applies to Maomao and Jinshi. It's possible that Lakan is insinuating something to Jinshi about him not being in his proper place; perhaps he knows something about Jinshi's true identity. But more likely Lakan is thinking that Maomao is not in her proper place here in Jinshi's residence. Lakan gave her a test and he was delighted by her ability to pass it. Does he intend to remove Maomao from Jinshi's employ? This guy is definitely not done with Maomao.

Lakan: The late metalworker's creations were absolutely remarkable though. There was this simple looking metal piece, that when combined with a ritual utensil... it looked truly magnificent.

I don't know what that thing is, but Lakan's scuzzy look combined with Jinshi's disgust is enough to tell me it's something terrible. What kind of ritual are they talking about here? Jinshi straight up lets us know that this is beneath him. What kind of ritual would be something that someone in Jinshi's position would never use? Jinshi knows that Lakan knows that this is not relevant or appropriate. Lakan so very clearly said it to see how Jinshi would react. And Jinshi is doing his best to hide his thoughts and reactions, but I get the feeling that Lakan can see everything. I can only guess based on the way my stomach feels nauseous watching this exchange that this item is used for something heinous like slavery or rape. Props to the storytellers here for freaking me out. I hope I'm wrong and the horrid thing is a spoon rest.

Lakan: I simply can't abide good talent being kept buried. ... Those who possess genius should receive the appropriate praise and attention.

He's going to take Maomao! Stop him Jinshi!

And Jinshi is actually VERY interested in Lakan's method of decreasing a courtesan's value. Is it that Maomao still owes money at Verdigris House? Is this time now at Jinshi's residence just boughten time, and not the end of her contract? Is this why Jinshi wants to know how to bring her price down? Does Lakan know that Maomao may still have a debt to Verdigris House?! Does he plan to buy out the rest of her time?! Hell no! I won't accept that! What the hell is happening?!

Lakan doesn't want to admit to the fucked up thing he did to that courtesan, so he tells Jinshi to ask Maomao how to reduce her price. This guy is terrible. He told Jinshi his messed up story then left off the part that Jinshi most wanted to know, with a promise to tell him if he could have a chance to test Maomao. Which Jinshi agreed to. When Maomao fulfilled her part, Lakan goes back on his word and refuses to say. Utter trash. And Jinshi let himself be sucked into Lakan's game. I hate all of this.

Then Lakan leaves a beverage for Jinshi's "serving maids," i.e. Maomao. WTF. I am so creeped out by this guy.

Lakan: Farewell. Until tomorrow that is.

Yeah, we're not getting rid of this guy any time soon.

Jinshi collapses the instant Lakan leaves. Yes, Jinshi is going to have to continue to deal with this nightmare who keeps making Jinshi's life difficult, but what is really bothering Jinshi is that he knows he fucked up. Lakan came to see how interested Jinshi is in his concubine, and baited him with his own story about a courtesan. And Jinshi showed him, that he is actually very interested in Maomao. Jinshi also let Lakan take Maomao's measure, knowing this guy has a knack for determining and using such talents. Jinshi is definitely going to blame himself for putting Maomao in this guys sights.

Gaoshun makes a request of Jinshi, that we don't get to hear about, but in the very next scene Jinshi is changing his clothes and asking Maomao to help him with some makeup so is he planning to go out in disguise somewhere? Is he going to visit the annex (one of these episodes will show me what it is!)? What did Gaoshun say to Jinshi? I guess we will find out next time, since that's where the episode ends!

I'm so creeped out by Lakan, but it feels like we are about to get into some plot stuff now, so I'm excited for that.

To start at the beginning:

Episode 1

Next Episode:

Episode 17

#the apothecary diaries #apothecary diaries #maomao #jinshi x maomao #jinshi #jinmao

[ashesbreadandbutter]

Sooo... Can we talk about Vox and Alastor Cause I'm literally obsessed...

Basically headcanons since of course I seen the post running around where Viv calls their relationship sad and complicated.

Being an 'angst-girlie' I HAVE to gobble this up so here's a few headcanons I immediately thought about.

Mentions of Valentinos acts against humanity so watch out for that. A bit, like a smidge, of kissing and making out mentioned as well.

For Starters

I happily wrote a fanfic for pics that @milariro drew (lovely artist, check em out!) and I think Valentino definitely plays a big roll in the fallout.

So Vox and Alastor were pals yeah, hung out, chit chatted, ate food together, even got close enough for Alastor to feel comfortable doing more intimate actions like cuddling and hugging and such.

I can't help but think of Vox perhaps being on the Acespectrum himself? He's giving "I will but I don't have to" so I get more demi vibes off of him. He probably doesn't give a fuck about anyone else like he does with Alastor so that's why.

I think he could build intimacy with others yes but he's so focused on his work usually outside of his competition.

Vox probably came to hell and started off really small and little so as he grew, he wanted to grow and took his time to try and get bigger. I would say that Valentino could come in here if not later when Vox seemed to develop feelings for Alastor and in doing so Alastor wants to return those said feelings but he's scared.

Scared of what? The unknown.

He probably is someone who doesn't like when he can't see what's going to occur or happen before it actually does.

He's a runner. Imma say that because I can be one. He cares for Vox but he can't stop the way his heart seems to race when they get just a bit too close...

Valentino probably comes in and ruins everything, most likely at a time when Alastor starts to get some sort of understanding on his own feelings and seeing Vox practically become infatuated with Valentino really leaves a void in his own heart.

Of course he wants to support Vox in his endeavors but... Valentino? Out of all people?

Alastor is most likely disgusted by even the thought of Valentino and seeing Vox so happy and eager with him sets. Him. Off.

A lot of arguments now, harsh words and such and really it's from Vox as he's confused and lost as to Alastor's behavior. He probably picked up on it and asked multiple times just for Alastor to brush him off every time so now that smoke is in the air everything is coming out.

Vox probably would confess he's in love with Alastor in this argument, tears, crying and all and Alastor can't help the way he feels about it

He feels he's at fault, and his airy silence doesn't help with all the anguish in the air already

He's scared. He loves Vox as well but something about the situation makes it hard for Alastor to swallow all the information and this leads to the 7 year disappearance

This mother fucker definitely leaves without saying a single thing to Vox and that hurts Vox more than anything else.

What else can Vox do without a single letter or sign as to where his friend went and of course he's going to know he's the reason to a certain extent

It definitely hurts both of them, like... World shattering.

Vox has no choice but to go to Valentino.

I can't help but analyze how Vox seemed... Happy? That he thought Angeldust quit when Valentino was raging. Vox does not love this man...

He of course knows about the things Valentino does... Or maybe... He doesn't? Like maybe he has an idea but he hates to think about it... He's never around when it actually happens to someone?

Valentino probably...has even done things to Vox himself?

Maaaannn like I said these aren't canon ofc but now I'm just rambling. Vox probably goes through similar ways of abuse from Val but he just puts up with it like everyone else? I can see him being so broken behind closed doors and when he's in front of others he puts on the cocky persona of his. It's something he's picked up from Alastor, smiling was a tactic all on its own.

He's unconscious of it but Vox thinks of Alastor all the time; when he wakes, when he works, etc etc and I think that in very little ways Alastor does the same thing.

Alastor definitely thinks of Vox often but he's so much better at hiding it. These two are so broken when they are alone.

I'm hoping they talk more about these two but OMG imagine so heartfelt ass communication after so maybe years... They definitely need it, to air out everything

And imagine that while they are Vox is speaking and Alastor is adamantly listening as he's always done and before he even knows it he's leaning forward, closer and Vox doesn't necessarily realize it until Alastor is just a breath away.

Tbh Alastor wouldn't even know what he was doing, it's like he's doing it unconsciously...no thoughts in mind and when Vox stops for a moment and just right then everything just seems to make sense? Alastor looks at him as if there's nothing but him and Vox would return the gaze before they closed in with a kiss

It's not just a little kiss either, it's one that starts off soft and gentle and leads into something hotter... Something raunchy as they cling to each other and hold each other.

Someone drew a pick with Vox being pinned against the wall by Alastor while kissing and I'll tag them (HERE) when I find them again but yeah it's like that.

It's like Alastor is letting off steam that's been trapped inside him for all those years even prior to his disappearance and he wants to be careful and gentle but he's... Excited, happy to have Vox in his arms again so he gets rough, biting, nipping, sucking until Vox seems to just completely become goop against him because in reality this is all he's wanted from Alastor... To be close to him, to hug him, to kiss him...

To help him, to protect him, to watch him grow and grow together with him.

Alastor still struggles with admitting it but he's just as happy to be with Vox too. (It's giving soulmates?? Soulmate AU ANYONE??! I'LL WRITE IT? PAY ME AND ILL START IT TODAY???!!! Support a disabled writer and I'll write whatever you want!~ current commission status: 3/5 stories to be done which I'll be working on right after this post)

Ahem...

But anyway they are married your honor!

I can see Vox coming to the Hotel after he manages to break free of Valentino. Maybe running off and disappearing on him and pulling an Alastor while Valentino rages at everyone else to find him. Velvet is broken between helping and not.

Vox coming to the hotel would be a shit fest to start off but... He is actually really helpful, and he takes the time to rebuild a connection with Angeldust and Alastor and he seems just so much more... Happy and genuine? And sometimes when Alastor notices he can't help but show a genuine smile as he admires Vox.

They would eventually come together to help publicize the hotel and WOAH are they banging!

The radio demon and TV demon have come together to help some crappy hotel rehabilitate sinners? Holy shit!

They reel people in from all over for various reasons whether it be fangirls shipping them or people actually wanting help and to grow...

They are happy together but...

Valentino and whoever is on his side of things definitely managed to also pick up on the sudden booming aura coming off of that hotel and maybe...maybe they'll pay a visit.

One that reminds Vox of everything that Valentino did to him and OMG imagine Vox having a panic attack or something, running off because he knows it's Val? Leaving Alastor to go hunt for him?

A fight would be interesting.

Alright alright, imma shut up.

I wrote this write the angst in mind but of course I rambled hahah. Either way, I said what I said. ÙwÚ

If you made it this far follow? Reblog? Comment???

MWAH 💋

- A

#hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel vox #angst #hurt/comfort #please commission me #writing commissions #i will write almost anythin #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #fandom #writers of tumblr #alastor x vox #vox x alastor #radiostatic #radio silence #alastor the radio demon #commission me #commissions #commisions open #taking commisions #fanfic writing #writer for hire #writing #writeblr #fanfic writer

[twig-gy]

I HAVE TO GET RID OF MY GODDAMN WIRE CICADA FUCK MY LIFEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

#twig.txt #last post before post limit #FUCK MY LIFEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE #I LOVE THAT THING THOUGH #kind of. #eeeeeeee just looking at it gives me urges #so NOT REALLY BUT I LIKE IT OKAY #:( #FUCKIN #AND I DON'T FEEL COMFORTABLE GIVING IT TO ANYONE ELSE #CAUSE IT'S SO PERSONAL #i'll post it b4 i throw it away #compromise #I HATE MY LIFE WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY

[yukipri]

Another mini Din & Paz

Probably shortly after Din joined the covert.

~~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, EDIT, TRANSLATE, OR OTHERWISE USE MY ART. To share, please reblog! Reblogs and comments greatly appreciated!!!

❀ You can see the rest of my art through the Masterpost pinned to the top of my blog!

#YukiPri art #Paz Vizsla #Din Djarin #the Mandalorian #PazDin #Mandalorians #Star Wars #Artists on Tumblr #fanart #OP/Artist comment: To be clear I don't necessarily think that Paz is the comforting type #at least outwardly #He probably noticed Din sniffling and laughed at him and called him a crybaby #and was about to walk away when he saw other kids also calling him a crybaby #scared off *those* kids #and then reluctantly came over #drops a blanket on Din #gives him one gruff head pat while looking the opposite way #and then plunks himself down far enough that he can pretend he's doing something else #but close enough that he dissuades anyone from intruding and Din doesn't feel alone. #No words are exchanged. #Paz is a dude who expresses how he truly feels via actions not words #at least when he was lil

[homeybee]

sometimes i wish people would learn about judaism and make some jewish friends.

#feeling kind of alone in real life and also on the internet. #i feel like it would be more obvious to more folks that zionism isnt a jewish belief if they just had more jewish friends... #or like. i've been seeing some posts about recognizing antisemitism #and sometimes it feels like people care more about calling others out for antisemitism than being curious and kind about judaism and jews #especially with the “holiday season” happening (aka its chanukah and all anyone cares about is Christmas Is Coming Consumerism Commence!) #just existing in the world is beginning to feel like struggling. a little. #anyway fellow jews pls feel free to give comfort. or other ppl i guess. #everyone else don't take this post in bad faith or i'll bite you

[mockguffin]

i hate to break it to myself but some peeps who interact with my stuff and the media i'm into ruins it for me sometimes... if not, a LOT

more specifically, the ones who refuse to behave and are lacking basic decency by asking incredibly weird shit in my tl

#👒.vent #yeah yeah it's the internet and not everyone knows how to socialize well. even online #but how is parading your condition on others' profiles or make comments about their posts feel way too personal for ANYONE'S comfort??????? #while there's nothing wrong with being weird with your comments but the way y'all would word them is just #NOT on the silly 'dw it's clearly a joke and i'm not referring them to you' level if that makes sense??? #it doesn't matter how mature or spicy the themes of the art is #I GET IT i draw hot men and women but why do you have to make your comments feel like it's invading my boundaries in PUBLIC??? #it shouldn't give anyone the right to feel entitled getting personal with creators just bc they make content that you happen to like #like how do you mess up that badly #another thing is where some ppl would refer to your ocs in ONE media source only and nothing else and i'm miffed by it #sorry for the rant again guys i just don't like how people on the internet act like sometimes

[quietblissxx]

.

#the thing that really grinds me to dust is that i don't have anyone in my life anymore that i feel comfortable talking to about this shit #i have some really great friends but i know that anyone that met me in the past decade never got to see the person underneath my mask #like I'm not pretending to be someone else but i feel like I'm a glued together paper doll covering a lifetime of unprocessed trauma #and even my closest friends now didn't know me when i went through that. and so i feel divorced from talking about it #i feel like because they didn't know who i was and the shadows behind my many doors i can't be honest with them now about this clusterfuck #even the people that know the most only know a little bc i just don't know how to talk about it #i just don't think they would understand. and i can't stand to strip myself away from my defences. #i should give the people in my life a chance to help me but i just don't know how to #the person i want to talk to the most is the girl who hasn't been in my life for a decade. #but we held each other's hands through some of the worst moments of our lives and i hate that i lost what we had #In adolescence i had friendships that were effortlessly vulnerable. truly unabashedly honest. #the adult version of me is a tightly coiled construct. the version of me i can make palatable. #but the monsters under my skin are clawing out #personal #i can't talk to anyone so I'm talking to Tumblr

[knaveofmogadore]

Kfkdks

#messages from knave #im making breakfast and im gonna list my observations from three years of weird living situations #younger siblings of big age gaps will see most interactions as a form of soft combat until trained out of it #but when actual clmbat happens they're used to not having any sway so they don't actually know how to act in arguments #siblings with codependent relationships have their own internal langauge that they apply to others. not sure if they realize they do it #but they'll hold you to the same rules they've mentally created for each other without explaining them #siblings of ALL stripes will approach situations with a set idea of how communication works. and even if it's not a logical way to communica #they'll expect you to also communicate in that way. and if you can't or refuse they'll shut down and communication stalls completely because #they can't fathom doing it any other way except the way they and their siblings socialized each other to do it #siblings with adversarial relationships don't take outside advice and will take attempts to give advice as manipulative. not their fault #oldest siblings are the most conflict averse people on the planet. oldest sinlings say #'is anyone gonna balloon this situation out of proportion by avoiding it for as long as possible' and not wait for an answer #siblings who were regularly appointed as hall monitors will see any interaction with you as transactional #a hallmark of a dysfunctional sibljng relationship is someone who thinks telling you NO is worse than going through a situation they do not #wanna be in. and then they'll complain about it endlessly #and then they'll be like 'i don't want favours from my parents because they'll hold it over me' and never make the connection on their own #people cannot anticipate your needs with their minds. they are sometimes going to ask you to be a part of things you don't wanna #you're NEVER gonna be able to live in a world where people will stop asking you to be a part of things that's not feasible #had one say once 'people should just know not to ask me along for plans I can't get to people should know not to invite me' #and you know dude that's just now how stuff works. there's a difference between 'x cant drive so they can't help me move my dresser' and #'i know xs work schedule so i shouldnt infomr them of group plansnon the off chance they could make it so they don't feel left out' #people with hyper competitive siblings can't fathom that other people won't know how to do stuff. i don't just mean athletes but siblings #with that scarcity mindsetnin general like they can't handle people not having the same knowledge base they have. it's a survival thing #and NO having a life of suffering doesn't make you correct all the time has literally anyone else watched heathers #youngest siblings always have the most deranged dating stories and the oldest in a set of age gap siblings always has the WORST taste in men #< that's directed at my sister and no one else that's a personal diss not a real observation #only children have one thing. theyre SUPER weird about splitting the grocery bill #food is NOT communal to only children I've learned firsthand. Also they'll be perfectly fine sharing anything else BUT food usually #weed. loans. bathroom supplies. dishes. ect. but NOT food #meanwhile sibljngs are a little TOO comfortable chowing down on stuff they didn't buy. bad roommates are bad roommates

[asobanana]

i'm honestly in love with your art-- wow?! you've srsly inspired me;; you are such an incredibly skilled and creative person!! if it's okay, could you share any tips or insights on how you got to where you're at? like, i know it took a loooot of hard work, but if there's a course/art book out there i should hyperfocus on, pls lmk!! (sry if this is a bother;; hope you have a gr8 day 💞)

hi, thank you so much!! 💖💖

i wish i could give a better answer but honestly i haven't really taken any courses or followed any books (though i keep telling myself that i should look into those..)

the best general advice that i see floating around often and agree with is the one that's something along the lines of 'the best way to improve at art is to get really obsessed with something and make a LOT art of it'. obviously this isn't really something you can force, but if you find a piece of media or have an oc or anything else that you really love and feel inspired by, the motivation to draw and sheer amount of practice is really great for improving!

#asks #thank u for the kind words! i really don't feel qualified to give any technical advice bc im always winging it and still struggle a lot lol #but ultimately practice and stepping outside your comfort zone always helps.. i think #if anyone else reading this has any tips or recs feel free to share too !