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soaps-mohawk · 2 days

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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

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boowritess · 2 days

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very mild 18+ simon riley x reader

lmaoo i can't breathe Simon Riley is just a man.

atleast to you.

when he's home, all he is to you is dry humor, a couple beers every night, sat in front of the tv on his spot on the couch, the game is playing - some soccor or rugby match. he doesn't wear his mask, his clothes are a simple t-shirt and some pair of shorts he just threw on.

he uses your shampoo and conditioner, as much as it pisses you off because it's expensive and for some reason he uses half the fucking bottle everytime he's home, but when he does the groceries he still comes home with '2 in 1 shampoo and conditioner' he would’ve got the '3 in 1' but the last time he did that he got no head for 3 weeks.

he'll go to the pub, take you out, pushes the trolley, holds your bag, let's you dress how you want it, belly gets a little soft because he eats food like he's never ate before, buy you anything you want even after the 'do you really need it though?' talk.

he's bit lazy on workouts only goes on the occasional run, but will fuck you whenever you want; always vanilla and only gets rough when you ask.

he will say he'll fix whatever appliance needs tending too but won't do it right away, starts the occasional handyman job at odd times.

it's just - he's so mundane and normal that you'd never know just how dangerous he is ???? like he so carefully hides that side from you. seriously. when he's home, he throws his gear in the bottom of his closet in a box, locking Ghost away and just existing as Simon.

even when the rest of the task force come around on the occasion. they're so normal and are just... men. yelling at the tv during a sport match. teasing each other. stealing snacks and helping with cleaning. they never speak about work and when you ask them, it's always a smile and shrug, "just another day really." "little boring and slow." "oh not too bad." their answers are so half-assed, that you don't even ask anymore; which is what they want.

but you really aren't missing anything. not when you don't even know what you're missing out on.

it's crazy, because he even keeps Ghost hidden when you're being harassed by men. whether that be when you're shopping or just going for a walk.

he'll loop an arm around your waist or over your shoulder, look at the guy with a grin - that's more of a sneer, "can i help you, mate?" he'll drawl. his stature and stare is enough to make the man who had been harassing you back off.

"what a freak..." you mutter with a roll of your eyes, letting Simon guide you away as he presses a kiss to your temple, a deep chuckle leaving him.

around midnight you wake up to Simon in the laundry room washing his hands. he doesn't blink or hesitate when you wonder in and wrap your arms around his waist. "what're you doing?" you mumble, sleepy eyss dropping to the sink.

Simon's hands are red, and you would be alarmed, should be alarmed. but how could you when Simon hums softly, a sound that rumbles deep from his throat, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head. he's so warm and casual that you don't even do a touble take seeing the blood.

"caught a rat. right pest they are. the trap i set snapped it clean in half." Simon's mutters, he raises a bloodied hand to you, sniggering when you crinkle your nose up in disgust and step away from him.

"ew, i'm going back to bed." you huff, yawning and leaving him to what he was doing.

Simon laughs softly as you head off. "just be a sec, love." he says as you go. all he receives is a yawn and a tired 'mhm'.

he cleans his hands and then his phone chimes. he pulls it out and it's a private message.

'getting rid of your pest now, LT.'

image attached

Simon opens the picture and sure enough there's the man from earlier in the boot of a car. all bloodied like Ghost left him.

Simon heads back upstairs to your shared room, you quietly snoozing away. you don't steer or wake as the closet door opens and Simon's putting his mask back in with his gear. No. Ghost is too quiet to let you wake from such a warm and sweet sleep.

he turns from the closet after putting everything away and changing clothes. he crawls into his side of the bed and wraps his arms around you. letting your body nestle back into his side. limbs tangling together.

just you and your simon.

a/n: inspired by a tik tok video on how he is just a man lmaooo

#my post #x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon x reader #ghost cod #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mwii

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aetherdoesthings · 1 day

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would you like a new home? (pt. 3.2)

forethoughts: i maxxed out arlecchino to lvl 90 🤩. rip all my fragile resins.

notes: gn!child!reader, NOT AN X READER READER IS A CHILD IN THIS!!!

Arlecchino was working when the caretaker had entered her office. She suppressed her disdain and annoyance as she asked the caretaker what was so important her work time had to be disrupted.

Arlecchino immediately stood up and stormed towards the caretaker when she heard your name.

“Y/N had gotten in a fight with another child? Two children?” Arlecchino pursed her lips, eyebrows furrowed. The caretaker elaborated more, handing her two distinct blades, one stained with blood.

“We have them in their room right now. The other two is in the infirmary. How would a child get their hands on such dangerous objects?” The caretaker commented, as Arlecchino took both blades, clutching both helms with one hand.

“I will deal with this.” Arlecchino walked out of her office, marching towards the infirmary. After all, you could use some more time to reflect before you would meet her.

You sat on your bed, knees to your chest and head on your knees as you stared at the wall. Father’s broken compass was next to you, the needle finally taking a rest. You could imagine the children outside gossiping and decreasing your odds of ever making friends in this hellhole of an orphanage. How you had injured the most popular kid.

Father made sure you knew not to care about what the others said about you. And you didn’t at all.

Father.

How was Father taking in the information?

Surely Father was already informed about the fight.

Your heart sank a little when you tried to imagine how Father was feeling. The betrayal. The hurt. The shock that you had used your new toys Father had only taught you on one of your ‘kin’. Perhaps the boy was right. In the end of the day Father might as well revoke everything she had given you. Including this room.

The sound of the doorknob twisting open shattered your confidence and determination you had about the fight, the sounds of Father’s heel clicking against the marble ground sending spiders down your spine. You felt a dip in the mattress being created, as Father sat down next to you, mere inches away. Father sat there, observing your hunched figure with a stoic expression in the deafening silence. You heard her pick up her broken compass-the gift she had given you to take care of. And it was completely shattered.

“...I’m sorry.” You murmured, breaking the silent barrier. “I tried to stop them from breaking it.”

Father let out a chuckle. “Anything that can break will break. Some can be fixed, some cannot.”

You felt Father’s eyes pierce your skull, causing your gaze to fall even lower. To your surprise, a hand was placed on your head, combing through your hair. You were shuffled closer to Father’s body, until your shoulder touched hers. “How are you feeling, dear? Are you alright?”

Father was… comforting you?

Your shoulders relaxed a little, but they were still stiff.

“I-I’m… okay.”

“Did they hurt you in any way?” You bit your lips, the conversation one of the orphans had with you while their foot was on your head was still fresh in your mind.

“Yes…” You mumbled, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve.

Father noticed-of course she did-, and placed her hand in yours, rubbing small circles on your palm.

“How so?”

You looked down. “...They started it.”

“Okay.” Father said calmly. “How so? And do look at me when you do.”

You reluctantly lifted your head, meeting Father’ surprisingly warm and calm gaze. “I was admiring the compass you had given me. And then one of them tripped me and took the compass and started playing with it. The other one shoved me and placed his feet on my head and pressed it down.”

You swore you saw Father’s eye twitch at your last sentence.

“The one pressing my head against the ground told me I had to ask you to have a smaller room, no dessert, last in line and an earlier curfew than the other orphans.” You spat each word out with poison. “They threatened to break Father’s compass if I did not do what they said. He shoved me first and attacked me. Father said if I was attacked first I could use my toys. So I did. I tried talking to them first but they wouldn’t listen. I did what Father said to do before I used my toys.”

Father remained silent, as her hand brushed over the area the boy had stepped on your head. “Does your head hurt now?”

“A-A little… b-but it's nothing…”

Father ignored your comment, as she lifted your body so you were on her lap. She examined the area the boy stepped on. Placing a single finger on the area was enough to make you shiver, the corners of your eyes burn and tears threatening to fall.

“My poor child…” Father sighed, wrapping her arms around your frail body.

Now your tears were really threatening to fall. “I-I’m sorry for using my new toys on the other orphans… I’m sorry for disobeying Father’s rule… I promise it won’t happen again. F-Father can take away my room a-and move me back to that room w-with the other orphans, put me last in line for food and give me an earlier curfew. I’ll take it without complaint. I d-deserve it for disappointing Father.”

“Nonsense, my child.” Father placed her fingers on your chin, forcing you to look her in the eyes. She moved her hand to your cheek, wiping your tears away with a gentle wipe of her thumb. “None of those things will happen. I will not punish you for acting in self defense. I am not disappointed in you for trying to defend yourself.”

“B-But-”

“No buts. What happened has happened. You are hurt; they are hurt. Adding more pain and suffering to one side of the scale will not make it balanced nor just.” Father’s lips turned into a thin smile, as she let out a sigh. “Come. Let’s get you cleaned up and ready for bed, okay? It has been a long day for you.”

Father lifted you up in her arms, cradling you as she carried you to what you could only assume to be her private bathroom, seeing she had walked past the showering hall.

“Father…?” You hesitantly asked.

“Yes, my dear?”

“...Why did you give me all those perks? A new room, first in line, no curfew?”

Father let out a sigh. “Even looking back I do not understand why I had the urge to do all those for you. I suppose it was because I was concerned and worried about you, my child. I could not bear to watch you sit alone and always get the last pick for everything. I could not bear to sit in the sidelines and watch you try and hold your tears back as you watched dust move across the ground. I could not bear to watch the other children treat you like filth when you were the kindness out of all. I believed that giving you some perks would help make your stay more… comfortable.”

Father paused. “Has it… made your stay more comfortable?”

You looked at the ground, your head resting on Father’s shoulder. “A little…”

Father let out a chuckle. “Better than none.”

Father carried you to her private bathroom, setting you down in the tub as she lathered soap across your back and body, washing your hair. Her touch was delicate and gentle, never lingering in one spot for too long or applying a large amount of pressure. Father dried you with one of her towels, dressing you in silk pajamas before carrying you back to your room. You found it hard to believe. You had injured two of Father’s children, and yet while they were in the infirmary, legs immobilized, you were wearing silk pajamas, being washed by Father, and coddled all along the way.

As Father laid you down in bed, brushing your hair one last time and planting a kiss on your forehead, you couldn’t help but ask.

“Why does Father treat me so well? Father w-wouldn’t do any of this for the others, would she?” You blurted out.

Father chuckled at your question, the corners of her mouth tugging upwards. “Perhaps it is true I treat you much differently and better than the rest. Perhaps I do have a sense of favoritism towards you. Perhaps it is because I see a part of me in you. No matter. Soon, my dear child, all of this will be over. I will deal with this. Do not worry about the other two children. Get some rest, my child, and all will be well. I will be coming back shortly to deliver you dinner.”

Father walked away, turning off the lights in your room as she shut the door. You laid there on your bed, her words echoing in your head. Father saw herself in you? Your little mind didn’t know how to think about that.

But all you knew was that Father cared for you.

Father loved you.

Father was not mad.

Father said everything will be better.

So everything will be better.

#genshin impact #arlecchino #arlecchino genshin #arlecchino x reader #aetherwrites #child

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billskeis · 2 days

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Hi, could you do Bill Kaulitz imagine, comforting the female reader, because it's been very stressful for her lately?

ᡣ𐭩 boyfie bill who nurtures his gf

you slam the door, flinching, you didn’t expect it to be so loud although it was intentionally you’re doing. bill welcomes you with open arms but you walk right past him, a pout forming on his face. he swears he can see the storm clouds floating above your head, today was just not a good day. or week, you’ve been stressed for some time.

“schatzi, bad day?” all you could do was sigh and nod, back facing to him but he can still see the motion of your head moving up and down. this is all he needs for him to sweep you off your feet and face you now hand in hand, twirling you to meet each other’s eyes. “bill?” you ask.

he smiles at you, cupping your face in his hands as you nuzzle your nose into his palms, taking in his scent. home, bill smelled so much like home. you feel a little bit more comfort knowing that you have someone like him in your life, “you’ve done so much this week baby.. let me show you some appreciation,” “bill, i’ve got more work to do..”

he shakes his head in disapproval, “i won’t take no for an answer, c’mon, you deserve it. how ‘bout a bath? and while you’re in, i can cook a meal.. after that, we can watch a movie, do face masks, snack on whatever we want..? just—spend time with me—you’ve overworked yourself, now lemme paper you ja?”

you hesitate. your office job clearly working you to the bone. just paperwork after paperwork, call after call. no lunch break, overtime. you’re boss is an asshole. you only have one or two friends at work, the rest of them dare not to associate with you. a day to you and bill.. does sound pretty nice.. well, fuck it, those corporate slaves can go kick rocks.

you pull bill in for a hug, a nice squeeze and the way your face dug into his chest was all he needed to realize your approval. kissing the top of your head, he breathes you in, “my beautiful angel.. let’s go run you that bath hm?” “mmhm..” taking your hand, he leads you to your shared bathroom.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

sitting in the warmth of the bath tub, bubbles are all that surround you as the faint scent of coconut and vanilla fill the room. you dip your body further into the big puddle of water, submerging yourself, body and muscle finally relaxing from all the tension and strain your poorly funded office chair has you stuck in for a consecutive eight hours.

a patter of small footsteps come closer as you’re now met with your boyfriend sitting at the edge of the bath tub. “how s’that feel? feel better?” “definitely, i needed this so much.. thank you baby,” bill runs the palm of his hand on the back of your neck, slightly adding pressure to message the tension out of your body. just a slight touch is more than enough.

“it’s my duty as your boyfriend.. been working so hard my pretty girl, a lil’ self care don’t hurt doesn’t it?” you scoff at him, knowing of your workaholic tendencies. on multiple occasions bill has offered many times a self care day as such, which always ends with a decline. you were so stubborn, a determined individual to get your work done but at what cost? this, is way better than that stupid office job.

“bill,”

“yes baby?”

“i smell something burning,”

“oh shit—mwah—THE FOOD!!!”

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

you and bill had ended up ordering takeout for the night. as you two cuddle on the couch covered in blankets, bill sulks as he takes a bite of his pad thai. “bill! it’s okay, i appreciate the gesture, you’ve done enough baby i promise.” “no! no baby it was—it was supposed to be perfect for you. i stayed up all night researching comfort foods and i couldn’t even do a simple recipe like that..” he stayed up all night?

as he fusses in his spot, his face mask threatens to slip off his face from so much facial expression movement. you use your fingers to fix and adjust the sheet mask back comfortably onto his face, the cooling sensation once again touching his plush cheeks. “billy, it’s okay, it’s just food.. next time okay?” “next time :D? we can do this next time :D?”

you giggle and laugh at him, he’s so cute. linking arms with him, you scarf down on the fried rice, it was really good. you think about how good bill’s cooking would taste, known for being a great home chef. well, to you and tom at least. your day was made so much better, all warm and cozy inside, so grateful to have bill in your life.

you look at bill who’s already looking at you. he asks you if you were okay because he’d been watching you eat this whole time and saw how you seemed lost in thought. you reassure him, letting him know that you are just thankful that he’s doing all this for you, he can only cheekily smile and tell you ‘you deserve it, my beautiful princess, s’glad i was able to make your day.’

you take each other’s face masks off. you massage the essence of the face mask onto bill’s face. he closes his eyes for better leverage as you gently press your fingers into his cheeks, forehead and every nook and cranny of his face. you tap his face so he can open his eyes as you finally finish. as you raise your hands to start on yours, bill swats them away and tells you ‘lemme do it!’ as he brings his own to massage your cheeks, pressing a quick kiss to the tip of your nose before he starts.

you think about a resignation.

oooookay this one was bad . sorry guys D: i appear to be losing my spark

FRET NOT ! i am not leaving , just probably won’t be as active as i think i’ll be . will occasionally post :3

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x y/n #tokio hotel x you #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel fluff #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x y/n #bill kaulitz x you #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz fluff #2000s #fyp #billskeis

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tojiluv · 9 hours

Text

EYES DON'T LIE — choso kamo [chapter ten]

description: in which a girl unwittingly becomes involved with a handsome stranger in a club, oblivious to his true identity of being in a famous boyband… OR in which you and Choso must conceal your secret meetings from your friends and his bandmates, especially from his younger brother and your best friend, Yuji.

warnings: nsfw MDNI. fem! receiving. vaginal fingering. praising. doing it in the car. swearing. choso calls you 'angel' & 'pretty'. choso's a tease.

notes: i know i said i come back in two weeks but that didn't happen lol, so sorry! i'm back now and hope this chapter makes up for it, especially for being the longest chapter i wrote (4000+ words). this is my first time writing some form of smut, so bear with me as it may be cringe.

Yuji was home.

Yuji's return sent shockwaves through the house, jolting you and Choso into a frenzy of panic. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, propelling you to disentangle from Choso with a racing heart, desperately attempting to compose yourself.

Choso's eyes widened in alarm, his mind racing for a solution as he cast furtive glances between you and the entrance. "Shit, hide!" he stated urgently, his voice barely audible amidst the impending footsteps, while he frantically attempted to groom his disheveled appearance.

Grabbing your bag, you hurried towards the nearest door, your mind racing to find a hiding spot with limited options. With no choice, you slipped into a nearby closet near the kitchen entrance, your heart pounding as you closed the door behind you with a barely audible click. In the darkness of the closet, you pressed a hand over your mouth, struggling to steady your breathing as you strained to listen for any indication of Yuji's presence. Outside, you heard the muffled sound of Choso's greeting, his voice strained as he feigned nonchalance.

"Hey, Yuji! Back so soon," Choso remarked, his tone forced and unconvincing.

"Yeah, the game ended early. Thought I'd swing by and relax," Yuji replied, his footsteps drawing closer to the living room where Choso awaited.

Your heart raced even faster at the approach of Yuji's footsteps, dread pooling in the pit of your stomach as you silently prayed that he wouldn't uncover your hiding place. Peering through the slits of the doorway, you watched as your best friend casually dropped onto the couch, tossing his bag aside with a heavy sigh.

Meanwhile, Choso attempted to maintain his composure, engaging Yuji in conversation to divert his attention away from your concealed presence. Yet, beneath his facade, you detected the strain in his voice, a palpable tension mirroring your anxiety.

Choso quickly glanced at your hiding spot before turning his attention to his brother, feeling a bit relieved that he was distracting Yuji. He knew the risk of being involved with you, especially as Yuji's best friend, but he was willing to take that chance. Everything had been going well, and he was determined to keep it that way.

"I thought you were crashing at Megumi’s tonight?" He inquired, trying to coax his brother out of the room and assist your escape.

Yuji glanced away from the TV, his brow furrowing in response. "Didn’t you want me to come back after the game?"

Choso cursed inwardly, realizing his mistake. Indeed, he had instructed Yuji to return home post-game. If only he had known about your arrival beforehand, he would have urged his brother to prolong his absence indefinitely, especially considering the recent developments between you and him moments earlier.

Meanwhile, you attempted to remain utterly still, refraining from making any sudden movements, alarmed even to shift within the confines of the cramped closet. Your gaze remained fixed on the sibling duo, observing Choso's persistent attempts to usher Yuji away.

Yuji scrutinized his older brother, his expression puzzled. "Are you alright?" he asked, noticing Choso's unease.

The older male nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, why?"

"Because you're acting all jittery," Yuji pointed out, his keen observation catching Choso off guard. He waved a dismissive hand, attempting to brush off his brother's concern.

"Nothing's wrong, just thinking about something. Don't worry about it," he replied, hoping to divert his attention elsewhere.

Yuji hummed, though he was not entirely convinced, he opted not to pursue the matter further. Shifting in his seat, he felt an unfamiliar object pressing against his back, retrieving it from beneath the couch cushions. As he held up the item to inspect it, Choso and your hearts plummeted.

A Cherry Flavoured Lip Gloss.

"What's this?" Yuji asked, scrutinizing the lip gloss before turning his gaze towards his brother for an explanation.

Your eyes widened in realization, fumbling through your skirt pockets only to confirm that the lip gloss in question indeed belonged to you. It must have slipped out during the make-out session with Choso on the couch, the intensity of which had him tugging at your clothing.

"Shit…!" You mouthed, worried by the unfolding scene. However, matters only escalated as your previous movements accidentally shifted a broom, causing it to collide with the closet wall with an unmistakable clang.

You stifle a gasp, your heart pounding furiously, as both Choso and Yuji swivel their heads toward the source of the disturbance. One wears a concerned expression, while the other's face contorts with dread, drained of color by the knowing sound.

"What was that?" Yuji questioned, rising from his seat.

As Yuji began to investigate, you held your breath, every passing second feeling endless and dreadful. The closet felt increasingly suffocating, the darkness closing in as you awaited the approaching confrontation. At one point, it felt as though your eyes met Yuji's through the doorway as his hand was inching towards the closet door. You instinctively pushed deeper into the confined space, your stomach churning at the thought of facing your best friend.

"It's mine!"

Choso interjected loudly, blurting out anything to stop his brother's movements.

Yuji turned around, tilting his head curiously. "Huh?"

"The lip gloss, it’s, uh.. mine…" Choso mumbled, his cheeks aflame with embarrassment.

"...Really?" Yuji's skepticism was noticed as he inspected his brother.

Choso nodded curtly, averting his gaze in mortification. "Y-yeah! I’m experimenting with a new look for the upcoming tour."

If only you weren’t in the closet, you might have laughed at Choso's awkwardness. Yuji merely nodded, though there was still some uncertainty. Sensing his brother's weariness, he let it go, thinking Choso's strange behavior was just because he was tired.

He moved away from the closet door, giving you a moment of relief, and gave the lip gloss back to Choso, who quickly put it in his pocket, his cheeks turning slightly pink.

"Well, I won’t judge you for that," The youngest chuckled. "I'm heading upstairs to get some rest. Are you staying down here?"

Choso let out a tired sigh, exhausted by everything that had happened. He shook his head and said, "No, I think I'll go out for a bit. I'll be back soon."

“Alright then. Stay safe, big bro!”

As the pink-haired male climbed the stairs and said goodbye to his brother, he vanished from sight. Finally, the sound of Yuji's fading footsteps brought a wave of relief, and you slumped against the closet wall, letting out a shaky breath.

Outside, Choso quietly exhales, his shoulders slumping in exhaustion. "That was way too close," he murmured, his voice barely audible from where you stood.

You stayed silent, wrestling with the weight of the close call. The realization of the dangerous situation you had narrowly avoided washed over you, along with a surge of guilt. What were you doing, sneaking around with your best friend's brother behind his back? However, amid your self-reproach, you couldn't ignore the inexplicable attraction that had drawn you to Choso, like a moth to a flame. The memory of his lips on yours, his touch sparking a passion within you—it lingered, weaving a spell that defied rationality.

Outside, Choso's voice pierced through your thoughts, breaking the hold of your internal turmoil. "Are you okay?" he asked, his tone soft with concern.

"I'll manage," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "But what now?"

Choso glanced towards the staircase before cautiously opening the closet door. His gaze lingered on your lips, noticing a hint of misplaced lip gloss staining your skin, before returning to meet your eyes.

"I'll take you home," he stated simply, though his conflicted expression betrayed his words. "It's best to avoid any further complications with Yuji around."

You inwardly sighed, acknowledging that he was right, as you swiftly emerged from the closet, hurrying towards the front door with Choso in tow, grabbing his keys.

Disappointment gnawed at you, realizing that your attraction to the dark-haired male had only deepened, though now you were uncertain if you would get another chance to pursue it.

The car sliced through the darkness, tension thickening the air. You stared out the window, watching the lights blur past, lost in your thoughts. Confidence had deserted you when Yuji returned home, leaving you too shy to speak to the man beside you.

Choso's grip on the steering wheel tightened, his jaw clenched with resolve. Annoyance creased his features, stark against his usual carefree demeanor. You couldn’t tell if he was annoyed by the sudden predicament or regretting your earlier interaction.

The silence hung heavy, broken only by the engine's hum and your heart pounding. Each moment dragged on, tension and desire simmering beneath the surface. As the car slowed to a stop outside your apartment complex, you felt his gaze linger on you. Unbuckling your seatbelt, you turned to face him, your gaze lowered.

Then Choso spoke up, his lips twitching slightly. "Cherry lip gloss, huh?"

You looked up at him, perplexed. "What?"

He fished the item from his pocket, handing it to you with a small smirk as your eyes widened. Reaching for it, your fingers brushed against his for a fleeting moment before you pulled back.

"Oh, yeah..." you muttered, examining the product before sighing. You felt a bit deflated from the previous encounter, yet it seemed like Choso knew exactly what you were thinking.

He chuckled softly, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he glanced at the cherry lip gloss in your hand. "Well, I guess we can say that's one way to leave a lasting impression," he quipped, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

You chuckled a bit, nodding in agreement. It struck you how such a small thing had left a memorable impact for both of you, despite the fear you both felt in that moment. You were grateful that Choso took the situation lightly, easing the tension with his playful banter. As a result, you felt your shoulders relax, the weight of the previous tension dissipating.

"I don’t know what to say, but I’m sorry if I caused any problems for you," you said, wanting to make sure he wasn’t upset.

“No need to apologize. You didn’t cause anything, so don’t think like that,” he reassured you. Choso leaned back in his seat, ruffling his hair that was out of his usual style before gracing you with a grin. “Then again, I do believe you owe me one,”

You raised a brow, crossing your arms. “What for?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“Well, I did tell Yuji that it was my lip gloss,” Choso admitted with a smirk, recalling the earlier exchange.

You remembered that but decided to play along. Humming, you shrugged, “I never heard you say that. Are you sure this isn’t exactly yours?” Choso scoffed, seeing through your playful act. “You’re funny. But nope, it's not mine. I ain’t a cherry type of guy.”

“What’s wrong with cherries?” you mused. Despite being home, you didn’t even think about leaving, not wanting the night to end just yet as you continued to engage with the older male.

He shrugged, “Nothing, just not my preference.”

“Well, I think you’re missing out. It's one of the best flavors to use,” you stated, opening the tube to apply a bit on your lips since it was rubbed off earlier. Unbeknownst to you, Choso gazed at your lips as you applied the product before closing it and putting it away.

He hummed, tilting his head before shifting closer. “Really? If you say so, maybe I should try it.”

You were a bit surprised but didn’t question him before pulling the lip gloss from your purse without a thought. “Oh, sure! Just be careful with the– Hmph!”

Choso's sudden movement caught you off guard as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin. Before you could react, his lips captured yours in a gentle yet intense kiss, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins.

Time seemed to stand still as you melted into the kiss, the world fading away until there was nothing but the heat of his lips against yours, the soft brush of his fingers against your cheek. The taste of cherry lip gloss lingered on your lips, a sweet contrast to the fiery passion that ignited between you.

In that moment, nothing else mattered except the intoxicating sensation of being lost in each other, the weight of the world lifted as you surrendered to the irresistible pull of desire.

As the kiss deepened, a soft sigh escaped your lips that mingled with Choso's ragged breaths. Every touch, every caress spoke of longing and longing, a silent promise of the passion that simmered just beneath the surface.

The kiss soon turned into a heated session, your hands gripping his hair to pull him closer before moaning in his mouth as his hands slid down your backside to land on your skirt, gripping your ass in the process. Not caring for any peering eyes, you moved across the console to jump into his seat, maneuvering onto his lap as he roughly pulled your body against his own, the kiss barely breaking off. Your body felt too hot in a way that you didn’t want to lose the feeling, continuing to chase each other’s lips with much urgency.

You didn’t expect this to happen at all, especially after the incident with Yuji, as you thought maybe Choso didn’t want this to continue due to the close call. Yet, he proved you wrong, and you were glad he did, especially from the way he made sure to show you.

Pulling back a bit to catch your breath, Choso took the opportunity to glide his lips against your neck, nicking and licking at any surface he could get as you whimpered from the sensation. You could feel his lips tug up against your pulsing neck, knowing he was grinning from the way you reacted to him. Your body shifted, grinding against his lap, feeling that prominent area rising from your movements as Choso let out a low groan.

Your hand left his hair to grip his chin, pulling him away from your neck to capture his plump lips back to yours, humming in contentment from the way he felt against you.

Feeling his hands move past your skirt bottom, you knew what he was implying and were eager to feel it, too lost in the feeling of his touch. Choso pulled back from the kiss, his breath heaving a bit as his eyes were narrowed with a tint of desire swirling in his dark purple eyes. His other hand lightly tapped your waist as he tilted his head, amused from seeing your desperate expression of wanting to be touched.

”You want me to touch you, hm?”

You nodded fiercely, shifting your body lower to obtain some friction to attend where you needed it the most. But Choso wasn’t taking that as an answer.

“Use your words, angel.”

His words sent another wave of electricity through you as you gulped, trying to not melt into a puddle from the way he was looking at you. Swallowing the saliva that collected in your throat, you managed to speak, voice raspy from the heat that pooled in the bottom of your stomach. You tried to grind on him once more, whining as he kept you still by tightening his grip, a chuckle escaping his lips as he tsked.

"All you need to do is say the words and I'll give you whatever you want.” His deep, husky voice sent another jolt through you, the heat growing stronger and making you almost feel lightheaded.

"Choso, I.." Your voice trailed off, feeling a bit too shy and embarrassed at the situation to continue. But he was persistent, continuing to stare at you with an expecting look.

His thumb caressed the corner of your tinted cherry lips, waiting for your answer patiently. "Come on, angel. Don't go quiet on me now."

Gasping out as his other hand softly pushed and rubbed against your core, you bit your lip and allowed your eyes to flutter, needing him so badly.

This was torture.

“Please..” you whined lowly, rubbing your hands up and down his clothed chest.

He hummed. “Please, what?”

”Please touch me, Choso!”

Choso smirked proudly and cupped his hands against you, pushing your underwear to the side as his fingers skillfully spread apart your throbbing and dripping core. Just a single press against your cunt made you twitch and squirm, eager to feel more. He slid his finger up and down for a bit, enjoying the reactions he pulled from you, anticipating to see you come undone by his hands. He placed a finger against your swollen clit, pressing and rubbing against it a bit harsh and fast, causing you to buck into his hand at the sudden sensation.

“Already so wet for me,”

He glanced at you, keeping eye contact as pleasure spread throughout your body. You wanted more, needed more from the older man under you. You let out an airy gasp as he pressed further into your skin, pushing for more friction that made you shiver as you could feel yourself becoming more wet, watching him through your heavy eyelids.

His eyes, God, his eyes.

He never once looked away as he continued to torture you with his touch, not wanting to miss any reaction he received. Choso loved it all and didn’t want it to stop.

"Please, Choso... Stop teasing..."

You grind yourself further onto his hand, an action Choso couldn't ignore, especially the way your arousal coated his fingers. With a small nibble on the tip of your ear and his hand traveling up the front of your body, slipping underneath the shirt you were wearing to tighten his grip, you began to roll your hips along his wrist, silently begging for him to fuck you with his hands.

He eventually caved, curling two of his fingers inside your slit, the stretch adding another dimension of pleasure and turning you into a wailing mess. A drawn-out moan was heard throughout the entire car as you thrashed on top, back arching against the car’s steering wheel and fingers digging into his clothes.

"Look at you. So responsive and beautiful. Just for me."

His deep voice sent another shudder down your spine, your thighs quivering and threatening to close shut around his hand. Your hands moved towards his shoulders, gripping and holding onto them for dear life.

You couldn't speak, couldn't think, couldn't breathe. All that mattered was his fingers stretching out your cunt.

Choso watched in pure lust and hunger, a fire igniting inside him as his hand worked and pumped against your slit. You looked like a goddess with the way you were riding him, the way your lips parted and let out such sweet sounds, the way your chest heaved, the way your eyes were hazed over with pleasure, the way your nails dug into his shoulder, the way your head leaned forward and rested against his chest.

It was an erotic sight. And only he could see you like this.

You felt his thumb circle against your sensitive bud, the pressure sending a shiver of pleasure coursing through your body. It felt so good, and the feeling of his fingers moving inside of you made it even better. You couldn't help but let out a small whimper as his thumb pressed against the nub harder.

"You like that?" His voice was low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine. You couldn't do anything except moan and nod, too overwhelmed with the sensations running through your body. His fingers curled inside of you as your walls clenched around his touch, your breath coming out in ragged gasps.

“More..” You whisper breathlessly, too focused on the feeling to not notice his cunning grin.

“More, huh?”

How could he say no to your pretty demands?

It felt better than you expected as he picked up the pace, adding a third finger, slamming himself into your wet walls and pressing deep and far as his thumb rubbed against your swollen bud, sending your mind spiraling.

“Yes.. yes! Fuck, just like that!” you whimpered, a hand gripping the back of his head while the other slid down his shirt, feeling how toned his chest was and how it felt familiar in your hands.

His fingers continued to pound into you, deep inside your cunt until he curled them upwards, hitting that certain spot that made you moan much louder than before, panting heavily. Opening your eyes, you made eye contact with his heavy-lidded ones that swelled with much yearning from your position. Despite the position, you suddenly became shy from the intense contact before shoving your face into his neck, planting kisses that made him tilt his head for you to get more room as he sighed from the feeling of your lips.

He kept hitting all the right spots that made your toes curl and lips press harder into his irritated skin, letting out a few curses to show how much he affected you deeply with just a touch of his hand.

“S-shit, Choso.. Right there!” You paused the assault on his neck, placing your forehead on his broad shoulders for support, concentrating immensely on the sensation. The only thing keeping you from falling apart was his arm that gripped your waist firmly to hold you up.

The vulgar wet sounds of your cunt were loud, echoing through the car that filled with gasps and moans. The slurping sound of the wetness and the feeling of your velvet walls fueled Choso’s desire to make you cum on his lap. He groaned at the way your pussy swallowed his fingers whole, showing him just how much he affects you with just three fingers, and thought about how different it would be if it was cock inside you right now instead of his hands.

Fuck me. Choso knew the next time he saw you, he certainly wouldn't be only using his hands and especially, won’t be doing it in the car.

You suddenly felt that familiar feeling approaching, causing you to move your hips to align with his movements, chasing that exciting sensation as you moaned out his name.

“I’m so close… I– Ahh, Choso!”

This woman… Just the way you moaned his name got his cock stiffening harder than before, causing him to sweat a bit more from your shameless words that filled the car with your scent and breath. He could feel your walls clenching against his fingers as he continued to pound faster causing you to pull away from his shoulder, knowing you were approaching your climax.

You suddenly felt him release two of his fingers out of you, leaving only one as you whined from the loss of contact till you gasped. He replaced the loss with his fingers circling your clit faster to make you cum, leaving you in a moaning mess from the adrenaline. Eyes closed, you withered against his aggressive but fluttering touch. “Choso..!”

“Look at me…”

Yet, you didn’t hear his words at first, too focused on chasing your high. You felt the pressure building inside of you, something that you've felt once before with the very same man in the car at a different time.

You were close, so close.

"C-Choso.. I'm.."

He knew what you meant, his pace picking up as he pumped his fingers inside of you, his thumb circling your bud in a quicker motion. You were so close, the pressure rising inside you. You felt his other hand grip the back of your head, pushing it forward to his face as he repeated himself.

“Open your eyes for me, pretty.”

His deep tone forced your eyes to peel open, maintaining such passionate eye contact that your body withered from the tension. You knew at that moment that he wanted to keep his eyes on you, to watch you cum messily all over his hands.

And then, with a few more strokes of his fingers and a flick to your sensitive clit, it finally came undone.

The feeling washed over you as your body quivered, not paying attention to anything but the man in front of you that made you feel like you were on cloud nine. You didn’t even notice that your movements buckled you to hit the horn on the wheel behind you for a second, too lost in your overstimulating pleasure.

“That’s it, cum for me.”

You let out a loud moan as your walls clenched around his fingers, waves of pleasure crashing over you as you rode out your orgasm. Choso continued pumping his fingers inside of you, his thumb still circling your bud. You could feel your juices coating his fingers as they continued to work inside of you.

As you calmed down from the high, your chest heaved with small breaths as your tired eyes laid heavily against Choso's intense and dark purple orbs, the gaze making you shudder a bit.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful."

Choso's lips roughly found yours as his fingers slipped out, a groan of protest leaving you from the empty feeling. But his lips distracted you as he placed a hand on the side of your cheek, tilting your head back as his tongue found its way inside. The feeling of his tongue exploring and swirling against your own had you weak, knees buckling and nearly falling back if it wasn't for Choso's arm that caught you.

As you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed with desire, you found yourself gazing back into Choso's eyes that reflected the same hunger and lust that burned within your heart. For a moment, you simply sat there, lost in the aftermath of the kiss, the world around you fading into insignificance as you revel in the intoxicating rush of emotions that pulsed through your veins.

Your thoughts paused, breath hitched as you watched Choso bring the very same fingers that were just inside of you to place on his wetted lips. Sucking on each one individually to get a taste of you, he hummed in delight before pulling them out, licking his lips.

Choso leaned back in his seat with a satisfied smirk. "Well, I guess that settles it," he utters, wiping the smudge gloss from your lips.

"Cherries aren't so bad after all."

⇽ chapter nine | chapter eleven ⇾

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mylifeiscomics · 3 days

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Here at last! My newest series!

You voted for it, you got it. A "fix-it" that's really gonna heal you after watching Parting of the Ways for the millionth time. (I deserve compensation for the emotional damage I experienced RTD!).

Summary: Bad Wolf, and by extension, Rose, with all their infinite power decide to take things into their own omnipotent hands. It's time for the Doctor to get some much-needed R&R! Adjusting to life in the slow lane is a little hard for our Doctor, but the goal is healing and he's willing to try. Perhaps all he needed was just a bit of something human to help him get there.

I will post regularly here, but, I actually just started up a Patreon that you can subscribe to for a dollar and get the advanced posts! You can read the first part right now, or wait till it's free here and/or on my website.

Here is my Patreon if you want to read ahead!

Thanks so much for supporting me and reading my comics! I absolutely love doing this, and I wish I could do it for a living. It's literally always been my dream since I was a small child to make comics for a living. Any money I earn this way goes back into the Adobe software I use to make the comics and my other bills because raising two kids in Canada is incredibly expensive. I cannot thank you enough! Cheers!

@deardiary17 @mizzingyou @i-belong-in-a-retirement-home @kittenwhodidntwanttogiveup @septic-dr-schneep @queenlovett @theoncomingdoo-dah @thethickofitt @jicklet @ginshoujo @samsrosary @confusedwhovian23 @icouldntthinkofanythingclever @the-wolf-among-the-roses Tagging you all because you were tagged on my last series and I thought you'd want to read this one. Let me know if you would like to continue to be tagged or not! Anyone who wants to be added to the tag list just let me know.

#Ninth Doctor #Rose Tyler #Nine x rose #ninerose #doctor x rose #time petals #fan comic #doctor who fanart #doctor who #Something Human #parting of the ways #Bad Wolf #9th doctor

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sahmandbean · 3 days

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Inherited Manor Challenge 2024 - A Sims 4 Gameplay and Build Mode Challenge For Only The Most Ambitious

You come from a long line of Occult Sims. Vampires, Mermaids, Werewolves, Spellcasters; all were welcome in your home (and present in your bloodline). You are, naturally, the rebel of the family and preferred the company of Sims and more modern amenities. After high school you decided to rid yourself of your occult ties and moved away from the family manor. This process reset your skills and you lost a few memories, but it was worth it to live the normal Sim life you had been dreaming of. Within a month you hear there was a terrible accident back home and your parents' lives were lost. Your father hadn't written you out of the will as you had expected, so you pack a bag to temporarily move home and decide what to do with the manor. You figure you'll sell it to your Spellcaster cousin. She's been a bit of a hot head, but always dreamed of a big house, and not getting along as kids is no reason to not act like adults. But, wait, why is there a hedge around the property? Why can't you get through it? Why does it smell like smoke? Your cousin and her husband, furious that you were set up to inherit the property, have set a curse on it and destroyed the home in the process. You have two choices: walk away and let them deal with the aftermath they created, or turn back to the lifestyle of your ancestors and reclaim what's yours. Are the suburbs really worth letting her win this way?

Warning: this challenge involves heavy fire damage. Please play responsibly.

The Goal

Fix up each room in order, meeting all of the requirements. Each room will have a required occult, some required items, and an overall monetary value to hit. You can check the Simoleon value of a room by selecting the room in build mode, then saving it to your library. It will show the cost of the room. Once you have completed a room, you can move on to the next one. Exact requirements, "hard mode" optional gameplay, and some FAQs will follow the rules.

The Setup

First, you have to determine if you are playing with the save file or the gallery upload. If you are playing on PC and have Vampires, Island Living, Werewolves, Realm of Magic, and Paranormal, you can use the save file. However, if you do not play on PC or don't have one of the required packs, you will have to use the gallery version. Missing even one pack will cause the damage on the lot to reset, which kind of defeats the challenge.

Here is a video I made that shows how to get started in the challenge and answers some frequently asked questions.

Save File Setup: 1 - Download the file here: http://www.simfileshare.net/download/4612595/ 2 - Place the save file in your save folder. If you followed a standard install procedure when you got the game (you would know if you didn't) you should find the save folder following this path: This PC > Documents > Electronic Arts > The Sims 4 > Saves. Make sure the save file does not share a name with any other save already in your game before saving to avoid accidentally overwriting an existing save in your game. That would really suck. 3 - Open your game 4 - Click "Load Game" (not "Resume") and select the file named "Inherited Manor Challenge 2024" 5 - If you have Seasons installed, you will have to select a season. Next, load into the Vampires world "Forgotten Hollow". The manor will be at the top of the map by the graveyard. We kicked Vlad out lol. 6 - Move a new Sim into the lot. The Sim must be a single non-occult young adult with no skills or bonus traits. You can set the aspiration, traits, likes, dislikes, gender, etc to whatever you want. You can create a Sim or use one from the gallery. 7 - Use the "freerealestate on" cheat to move your Sim into the Manor. On PC press ctrl+shift+c, on Mac press cmd+shift+c, and on console press all four trigger buttons to open the cheat bar, then type "freerealestate on". You should see a confirmation message. You can now move your Sim into the manor. 8 - Set your household funds to zero. Type "money 0" into the cheat bar. Lock the back door in the kitchen if the lock setting didn't stick. 9 - You can use whatever life span, neighborhood stories, season length, or other gameplay settings you want. I do recommend turning off the dust system if you own Bust the Dust as it becomes a hinderance to gameplay as it accumulates in the rooms you can't access.

Gallery Download Setup: edit: after posting all of this the gallery upload was giving me a ton of issues, so unfortunately I had to remove many of the photos for it to work, just so you're aware. 1 - Open an existing save file or create a new one 2 - Chose any lot that is at least 40x30. The manor was built on Vlad's lot in Forgotten Hollow but if you don't have that world, or don't like it, you can play elsewhere. 3 - Download and place the manor from the gallery. My Gallery ID is sahmandbean and the Lot Title is IMC 2024. 4 - Exit the lot to the map view and proceed from step 6 above.

The Rules

To enter the Manor, you must become a Vampire. Each section has a designated occult. You will begin by transforming your Sim into a Vampire, completing the rooms in order in the Vampire section of the Manor, then reverting back to a normal Sim before transitioning into a Mermaid to fulfill the requirements of the next section of the house, and the same with Werewolf and Spellcaster. (If at any point you don't own the necessary pack for that occult type, just skip to the next occult or stay in your current occult. For example, if you don't have Vampires, you must become a Mermaid to enter the manor, and if you don't have Werewolves you must complete the second floor as a Mermaid or Spellcaster, but not a normal Sim.) Once you have completed your transformation into the designated occult, you may go into build mode and remove the cursed hedge blocking your way.

As you enter each new room, make sure you clean it, replace or remove all of the burned items, and fulfill the requirements listed below. There are maps as well, which will hopefully help. If at any point you have questions or feel stuck, join this discord server to ask and get help from myself and the other challenge players in the community. Standard rules let you live in the full area designated to the occult, but you have to work on one room at a time. For example, as soon as you are a mermaid you can use the pool, but you cannot clean the yard up until after you have completed the other rooms in the area in the order listed below. Hard mode, however... Well, more about that after the normal rules.

Also, if at any point you get stuck and decide to use a cheat to transform your Sim in or out of an Occult life state, it will cost you. First transformation will be $10,000, then the second is $25,000, and it will double from there. Use a calculator and "money [amount]" to settle the balance.

You may not at any point sell anything from an area you are not working on for money, or any of the landscaping. You can rework the landscaping after you have completed the Manor but you can't use it as a get rich quick scheme.

Here are the room requirements. Remember, these are just minimums. You can add a bathtub and bed to the entryway if you want, for example, so your Sim can maintain some needs, but if you are not going to leave them there make sure you remove them before calculating the total value of the room. Also if at any point an item in a completed room is broken or lost, whether to the repo man or a fire or some other reason, it must be replaced or repaired before continuing with whatever room you were working on.

As a Vampire Entryway: Simoleons: $25,000 Items: Two Knight of the Octagon Table statues, living chair, rug, accent table, and two wall decorations Coat Closet: Simoleons: $5000 Items: sofa or loveseat; two “coat closet” like items, like coat racks, umbrellas, or shoes Office: Simoleons: $15,000 Items: desk, Seance Table with two or more chairs, bookshelf, computer, rug Hallway: Simoleons: $10,000 Items: four pieces of wall art, rug Big bathroom: Simoleons: $5000 Items: bath or shower, two sinks, toilet, two mirrors, toilet paper Kitchen: Simoleons: $25,000 Items: six counters, fridge, stove, sink, dining table, four dining chairs, trash can, bowl of fruit Cupcake Room: Simoleons: $10,000 Items: cupcake factory, kitchen appliance Dining Room and Vestibule: Simoleons: $20,000 Items: dining table, six dining chairs, hutch, and keep the big painting in the dining room; living chair and lamp in the vestibule

As a Mermaid Bar: Simoleons: $20,000 Items: bar, seating for six, clock Half Bath: Simoleons: $2000 Items: toilet, sink, mirror, and toilet paper Ballroom: Simoleons: $30,000 Items: stereo, piano or pipe organ, fireplace, mirror, a table that can hold food in the event of a party Yard and Shed: Items: keep the pool; four planters, woodworking table, fountain, wedding arch, grill, telescope, seating for 10, and monkey bars

As a Werewolf Landing: Simoleons: $10,000 Items: couch, chess table Art Gallery: Simoleons: $35,000 Items: seating for four, rug, six pieces created by your sim, twelve pieces of art overall Purple Bedroom: Simoleons: $40,000 Items: bed space for two, rug, fireplace, two skill and/or activity items in the bedroom; dresser and chair in each closet; two sinks, toilet, toilet paper, and bath or shower in the bathroom Blue Bedroom: Simoleons: $20,000 Items: bed space for two, one skill or activity item, rug, and one dresser in the bedroom; toilet, sink, mirror, bath or shower, and toilet paper in the bathroom Pink Bedroom: Simoleons: $20,000 Items: bed space for two, rug, one skill or activity item, and one dresser in the bedroom; toilet, sink, mirror, bath or shower, and toilet paper in the bathroom Hall Bathroom: Simoleons: $3000 Items: bench, toilet, sink

As a Spellcaster Yellow Bedroom: Simoleons: $30,000 Items: bed space for two, rug, one skill or activity item, and one dresser in the bedroom; toilet, sink, mirror, bath or shower, and toilet paper in the bathroom Green Bedroom: Simoleons: $30,000 Items: bed space for two, rug, one skill or activity item, and one dresser in the bedroom; toilet, sink, mirror, bath or shower, and toilet paper in the bathroom Hall and Bathroom: Simoleons: $5000 Items: toilet, sink, mirror, toilet paper, six lights, rug Black Bedroom: Simoleons: $30,000 Items: bed space for two, rug, one skill or activity item, and one dresser in the bedroom; toilet, sink, mirror, bath or shower, and toilet paper in the bathroom Red Bedroom and tower: Simoleons: $50,000 Items: double bed, bar, desk, rug, dresser, fireplace, couch, bookshelf, and armchair in the bedroom; dresser, mirror, chair, and shoe rack in the closet; two sinks, two mirrors, tub, shower, toilet, and toilet paper in the bathroom

Hard Mode Optional Start Rules - Start as a teen (no skills, occult, etc) instead of a young adult and balance High School on top of the manor. - Stay exclusively in the current room. Use more magical hedges if necessary. - There are photos of the pre-destroyed manor scattered about. Identify and replace the exact items in each photo. Some of them are locked behind careers, so it is up to you exactly how hard you want to make that on yourself. "Buying" the item off the gallery is acceptable. - Turn on all lot challenges and remove them randomly as you complete rooms. - Double Simoleon requirements for each room. If you have Get to Work, you must marry and have at least one child with an Alien. - Throw a gold dinner party after completing each individual occult phase before transforming back into a regular Sim. - Max out each occult skill tree.

The end goal of this challenge is for you to have fun! Mix and match the rules a little if you feel stuck, marry Father Winter, have a relative named Rosebud conveniently leave you a small inheritance...

FAQ

If you have a question not answered here, please join the discord and ask in the designated Inherited Manor 2024 channels.

How to I become a...? And how do I turn back into a normal Sim? To become a Vampire, become good friends with a Vampire and ask to be turned. The process takes a few days so be prepared to live at the gym for a bit. The cure can be crafted after reaching Level 15 Vampire Lore skill and gathering the necessary ingredients. To become a Mermaid, eat one Mermadic Kelp. To transform back into a regular Sim, eat two in a row. The kelp can be found diving, fishing, gifted by a dolphin, or purchased with reward points. To become a Werewolf, as a Werewolf to turn you (similar to the Vampire). The cure can be crafted after finding the recipe in "An Insider's Guide to Being a Werewolf", a book found in the underground tunnels. To become a Spellcaster, travel to The Magic Realm and talk to a Sage. They will give you a mini quest. This is by far the easiest one.

Can I get married? Yes, but your spouse (regardless if an occult Sim or not) can only access the areas you have already unlocked. Your spouse must live on the lot with you until death or divorce, and the kids cannot be moved out until they are teens. Your main Sim is the one that counts as far as transformations and unlocking areas goes.

What happens if my Sim dies? Find or create a fresh Sim and pick up where you left off. This can include a spouse or child.

Can I change the room requirements? Can I put a bedroom instead of an office? You can change whatever you want after the challenge is completed, but the required items must be present in the room to count it as done. You can add additional items if you want, of course, but not completely alter the function of the room.

Can I sell stuff in the house already for money if it isn't damaged? You can sell or replace whatever is in the current room. You can't sell a chair from the office to get money for the kitchen, etc. Remember to keep any items specified in the rules above.

How do I know what my save file name is? Each save file follows the same format: the word “save” followed by a period and eight numbers. For example, save.12345678. Make sure those numbers don’t match the numbers of the save file when you download it. If they do match, you can change a number in the challenge save file before you save it, so long as it is still follows the naming convention laid out above.

Your save file is broken! It loaded me into a household! It's not even the right lot/world/etc! If you're not on the right lot, sounds like you answered your own question. Go to the map view and click on Forgotten Hollow, and maybe read the setup instructions again.

Can I change the lifespan, season length, weather, holiday, etc etc? Yup! Change whatever you want so long as it isn't prohibited in the rules.

What counts as a piece of art my Sim made for the galery? Any project that can be started, stopped, and resumed, and/or your Sim is directly involved in the end quality of the item. This includes, but is not limited to, knit objects, paintings, books, woodworking objects, scientist career objects, and photographs. This does not include found items, such as posters or snow globes.

Do I have to hit the Simoleon requirement exactly? That is too much math, even for me. So long as you are at or over, you're good.

Can I add some lot traits or challenges? Absolutely. Remember, though, that you can't build outside your current zone. You can't add solar panels to the yard, for example, until you get to that point as a Mermaid, but you can set your lot to "Off The Grid" whenever.

Can I purchase traits from the reward store? Yes. You just can't have your Sim start with any reward traits or points.

Are there more challenges like this? Yes! This is actually the fourth version of this challenge. You can find more information here on tumblr, or by visiting my website here.

Can I make one of these, or help make the next one? Absolutely! The official Inherited Manor Discord will be the best place to keep up to date on the challenge. I only ping everyone at the start of building the challenge for the year and when it is released, so don't worry about me blowing up your phone. Can't wait to connect with you there!

Huge thanks to chat for all their help during the streams, and a special thanks to my playtesters: Alasmina debs Foxbird kittycatxo miraclesnjoy SRSimmer Tessa Who?

#sims 4 #sims 4 build #sims 4 challenge #inherited manor challenge #sims4 #architecture #pc games #gaming #the sims 4 #sims challenge

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puck-luck · 1 hour

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calling quinn “captain” in bed and he goes feral

warnings: emosh quinn, sex as comfort HIII, masturbation (fingering), wee bit of dirty talk, riding, unprotected p in v, use of "captain" pairing: quinn hughes x fem!reader summary: the one where quinn comes home after the 'nucks are knocked out of the playoffs (i am not manifesting!!) and he and his girl make up for the time missing each other. wc: 1601

The playoffs had come to an end with a simmer for the Canucks. Quinn, who had led his team to so many victories throughout the season, was headed home after game seven of the second round– just narrowly missing the finals for the Stanley Cup.

You had called him briefly after the game, but he wasn’t in the mood to talk. He had been quiet, listening to you speak about your day– a topic that he himself had requested, so unhappy with his game that he didn’t even want to acknowledge the fact that he played hockey for a living.

Listening to you talk about the book that you read that day, the walk that you had gone on with your best friend, and the annoying conversation you had to have with your boss that you hate made him feel like he was just a normal guy for a day.

Now, with him on the way home, you were ready to comfort him in any way that you could.

And it started by making him forget about his problems in the way that only you were allowed to do.

That’s why you were waiting on your couch, naked, legs spread and a finger on your clit. Quinn was due to walk through the door at any minute and the first thing you wanted him to see when he walked into his apartment was his girlfriend waiting for him.

Quinn mused about your beauty all the time, whether it was in public or just to you or just to himself. He had told you many times over the course of his relationship that though you were beautiful all the time, there was nothing like the way you looked underneath him as his cock thrust inside you.

Tonight, he would certainly be inside you. You were just hoping that you’d be the one on top of him, taking care of him, making him feel good.

The lock flipped as Quinn unlocked the door, making you perk up and tilt your head with innocent eyes at the front door.

“Hi, Q,” You greeted.

Quinn had crossed the threshold with his head down, dragging his suitcase behind him. His face was soft when he looked up at you, placated like he was happy to see you but still so, so sad. Then, his eyes fixed on your fingers, the ones that were running up and down your glistening slit.

“Hi,” Quinn replied, seeming frozen in place. His eyes darted between yours and your fingers.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” You said. You reached up to pinch a nipple between the fingers of your other hand, watching Quinn’s eyes follow your movements.

He shrugged off his jacket, toed off his shoes. “Anything in particular?” He asked.

“Been missing your cock, Q. I’ve been feeling so empty without you around to fill me up.”

His eyes widened almost imperceptibly. Quinn shifted his weight from one foot to the other, reaching up to unbutton his shirt.

As the expanse of his chest appeared to you, the light dusting of hair that you loved so much, you moaned softly and pushed a finger inside yourself. It was smaller than Quinn’s, and the angle was always weird when you fingered yourself, and it was hard to get any real pleasure without getting your other hand on your clit, but it was worth seeing the look on Quinn’s face and the way his pants tightened.

“I tried my fingers, Q. I tried my toys. They just– oh– they weren’t as good as you.”

“Fuck, I missed you,” Quinn said, crossing the room and kneeling over you. “That mouth, so dirty, baby.”

You leaned up, capturing Quinn’s soft lips with your own. The kiss was wet, both of you trying to convey just how much you had wanted each other while Quinn was gone without saying a single word. Your finger never ceased moving inside of you, although Quinn had started to rub over your clit. You worked in tandem, comfortably, making your body roll into the pressure. Your movements, and his, were slow, savoring the fact that you were together again and would be for nearly the whole off season.

“I want to ride you,” You breathed into Quinn’s mouth, so quiet that he would practically have to taste the words on his tongue to understand you.

He did, though. Of course he understood what you said. He knew immediately, with the way he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you with him as he sat back onto the couch. He fumbled with his pants, unzipping them and pulling them down his thighs just enough that they were out of the way.

You sank down on his cock as soon as he pressed it against your opening, your mouth falling open with the sensation.You panted into Quinn’s mouth as you began to lift yourself up and down.

Quinn’s hands were resting on your hips, doing nothing except acting as a presence, something to anchor you as you rose and fell on his length.

“Feel so good,” Quinn praised, transfixed by the way your hair was framing your face and the way you bit your bottom lip when you found your g-spot without his help. “Was this what you imagined while I was gone, doll?”

“Yeah, yeah,” You agreed. “Fuck, Quinn, I needed you to take care of me.”

His heart quivered in his chest at that, those words meaning more to him than so many of the things you could have said when he came home.

“I’m here,” Quinn assured you, his fingers pressing into your skin, grabbing and enveloping the shape of your hipbones. “Gonna take care of you forever.”

“So good.” You began to bounce up and down harder, more quickly, relishing in the way Quinn’s skin slapped against yours. “Q,” You whined, clutching at the muscles of his shoulder, one hand pressing against his chest. “Quinn, I’m gonna come, oh, Captain…”

All the breath flew out of Quinn like it was stolen from his lungs, squeezed like a tube of toothpaste that had just one more use left in it. It was like his vision went dark, the word echoing in his head. Captain, captain, captain.

Quinn’s hips moved of their own accord. His hands, having once rested delicately on your hips, were now clutching your ass desperately.

“My girl, fuck, need me to take charge like I do on the ice? Need your captain to fill you up ‘cuz you can’t make yourself feel good? Have I spoiled you that much?” Quinn rambled, fucking into you with earnest.

He brought one hand up to the back of your neck, pulling you flush against his chest. His hips were like a machine, fucking into you so well, so consistently. It was militant, Quinn able to play you like a violin after memorizing your body long, long ago.

You could only moan in response, the kiss of his cock against your walls, as strong as a heartbeat turning your mind to jelly. What was originally a night meant to tease Quinn, to prioritize him, had quickly devolved into a night of mind-numbing, leg-shaking pleasure for you.

“Looked so good, touching yourself when I walked in,” Quinn continued. “Such a pretty sight to walk into. You’re all mine, huh? Just needed me to come home and make you feel good? Show me what I was missing?”

“Quinn,” You whimpered.

“Captain,” He corrected.

“Captain,” You repeated, drawn out. As if hypnotized, you were willing to repeat back anything he said. “Can I come?”

Quinn groaned, gravelly in the back of his throat. He lifted you up and down to meet his thrusts, watching the way his cock disappeared inside of you. His eyes focused on the ring of your wetness around the base of his cock, the clear pool of juice that glinted on his abdomen in the light.

“Please,” You begged, your head finding the curve of his neck. “It’s so good, Cap. I need to come, please let me come.”

“Come, baby,” Quinn encouraged, his thrusts growing uncoordinated as you squeezed him. “Come with me.” With just a few more thrusts, Quinn felt himself burst, spurting inside of you. The aftershocks overtook him when you let out a sigh at the feeling of him, his warmth, filling you up in a way it hadn’t in so long that you’d missed so much.

For a few minutes, you and Quinn just basked in the feeling of being reunited with the person you loved.

“Captain,” He eventually said aloud, stating it like he was feeling out the way the word felt in his mouth. Quinn eyed you, raising a brow.

“I like the way you take care of your team,” You admitted. You reached out and toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck, twirling it around your finger. “Reminds me of how you take care of me.”

Quinn’s heart flipped in a funny way, something akin to heartbreak but so much warmer. “I love you so much,” He said, forcing the words out in a way that he hoped conveyed just how genuinely he felt them.

You smiled, soft and sweet, and continued to play with his hair. You two sat there, on the couch in the presence of the other, until you lost track of time. Eventually, when you were blinking slowly and Quinn could feel your eyelashes beginning to flutter against his neck in a way that signaled your exhaustion, he picked you up and carried you to bed.

Always taking care of you.

note: ANOTHER MONDAY MORNING ONESHOT! I AM NOTHING IF NOT CONSISTENT ABOUT MONDAY MORNINGS! feeling like a fuckin pirate writing this captain shit (i love y'all and i looove reading captain kink fics (that one threesome between quinn and nico...) but i felt like a damn pirate! aye aye matey!) i'll stick to my daddy kink a-thank-yewwww also: game 4? in nash? holy shit! quinn's hair is so much darker in person and it looks so fluffy. he's pretty (and looks lost all the time) and also i never saw him make eye contact with anyone standing at the glass during warmups. also-also his tapejob on his socks was so weird? also also also: he was adjusting his gear literally every thirty seconds between whistles and no one else was– does your gear not fit, brother?

#puck-luck's fics #quinn hughes #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #nhl smut #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #andy writes anything🍄#qh43

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idkfitememate · 10 hours

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So anyway this is the newfound brain rot because I got to many ideas, not enough for a fic, but it’s gonna distract me from others so here we go lol-

(Also yeah Grandpa I’m in a manly mood)

Note from weeks later: Nah this bitch a fix tf-

“Tell me about my Дедушка*.”

Capitano looked down at the ginger with contempt. It was often now, since Dottore had let it slip - curse that bastard - that Tartaglia’s Grandfather was a Harbinger. Apparently the boy had been raised to think that great man was simply a lowly solider, not one of the most powerful men in Snezhnaya.

When he heard that, Capitano had never wanted to kill a family more.

They hid your legacy from their kids, how dare they keep living as thought they had any right!?-

He sighed.

The boy continued to bother the much larger man at any chance he got, borderline begging - or now was he? Maybe he crossed that line ages ago - the man to tell him anything about his grandfather.

War stories, tall tales, hell even DRINKING stories, the 11th would take any.

It wasn’t like his Grandfather wasn’t alive, Childe could leave the palace right now and go ask you, seeing as you lived with his family.

But what Childe wanted was to come home one day in a boisterous manner and shout at his parents:

“You LIED you FEINDS!!! How DARE YOU LIE to not only ME but the REST OF YOUR CHILDREN about their ГРАНДФАТЕР?!? And to YOU, ГРАНДФАТЕР, ALLOWED THEM TO LIE!!! How COULD YOU?!?”

But he held to much respect for both them and you, even if his father sent him off as thought sending his blood thirsty son to join the Fatui would do anything. It was like sending a polar bear to a penguins nest, he had no clue what his father was thinking.

No matter, because you were there, showing him moves and teaching him tricks and giving him tips. Though, he still felt a bit betrayed at the fact that you even hid the fact that you were one of the strongest men in Snezhnaya.

“You truly wish to know boy?” The sharp voice of his superior snapped Childe out of his head. A quick nod was enough to bring Capitano to a nearby chair and sit, Childe quickly following.

“He was brave, I can say that much… He was around before me and had made a name for himself long before I even dared touch the Fatui, let alone graced its ranks.”

Childe took in the information like a sponge, absorbing everything the man said.

“They called him Большой хищник Севера*, a powerful title I’m sure you can see. It is said that before his accident, he had not lost a single man in war or battle, but after, he only lost seven men, one of each nation.”

Childe looked on in wonder. Only seven men… in the entirety of his Harbinger career? He knew the Doctor could never account for that.

“Wait… his accident? Do you mean..?” “Yes, when he first received that scar across his face, marring it, that was the first time he lost a man, someone near and dear to him as I’ve heard. I was only then truly climbing the ranks when this happened… a pity. But he wore that scar, and his friend’s Vision, with pride.” Childe gaped.

“Wait, you mean to tell me that-“ “Yes, Tartaglia, that Vision he carries in his eye, as well as arm and ear, back and finger, even his heart, they all work. They are the last pieces of his closest comrades. He’d rather die than give them up, I’ve heard. Unfortunately the strain of using them forced him into retirement, but he comes when we call.”

Childe’s eyes widened as he screamed.

“WAIT THEY WORK?!?-“

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“BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-“

Ajax looked on in awe at his Дедушка. The nearly ten foot tall giant of a man, with a full beard and furry body hair to boot had just pulled a huge fish out from beneath the ice sheet they currently stood on while ice-fishing, bare handed.

Your roaring laughter echoed through the tundra as you held the fish up proudly. You grabbed the then four year old and hoisted him onto your shoulder, that which he could fully sit on and still have some room. His hands latched onto the side of your face but that didn’t seem to phase you, as you continued your loud laughter. The cause of your laughter, being that the fish was the same size as Ajax.

“LOOK AT HOW LARGE IT IS, МАЛЕНЬКИЙ ОДИН*!! SHE IS THE SAME SIZE AS YOU BWAHAHAHAHA!!”

Ajax’s entire body shook as you continued to laugh, giggles beginning to bubble up from his own mouth.

He watched as your Hydro themed earring bounced around as your body gyrated up and down from the mere force of your laughter. His laughter grew until the two of you were basically screaming out through the tundra.

You sighed and - while still chuckling - wrapped an arm around the boys waist and began walking back home. Of course, not before grabbing the bucket filled with other fish from your fishing trip.

Ajax didn’t want to say anything, on account of the fact that it would’ve been disrespectful of course, but your arm that was wrapped around him was bumpy and hard and cold, not unlike a certain place on your chest, though it was just super cold.

The arm was usually covered in more layers or a bunch or bandages wrapped around it to soften its shape and surface, but Ajax could still feel the sharp points and edges, though he never minded.

Eventually you both made it back to the house you shared with his family, and ducking under the doorframe quickly alerted the family of your presents.

“ГРАНДФАТЕР!!!!” Ajax’s two younger siblings - a third was on his way, Teucer would be his name - ran up to you jumping at your feet. You chuckled more and let their heads, greeting each.

“Tonia, Anthon, calm yourselves!! We were only gone a few hours hah hah!!” The two only cried out in joy louder, wrapping themselves around your legs. You stumbled for a moment before walking forward as if they weren’t there.

A man and a woman watched as you walked into the kitchen and subsequently the freezer - ironic considering where you lived - to drop off the fish before waltzing into the living room. You plopped down in the couch, first removing Ajax’s coat and then your own.

The two on your legs let go and smiled up at you, the man and woman - Ajax’s mom and dad - walked over a gave you smile, a hand landing on your shoulder.

Your smile widened.

Archons you fucking loved your family.

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Archons you fucking hated these enemies.

These fuckers from Natlan were resistant little fuckers. You chop off a hand and they’d still keep fighting.

You were growing annoyed after hours of fighting, blood drenching your uniform and absolutely caking your hair, something you knew would be a bitch to get out from experience.

Your right hand of the time, a Natlander by the name of Eztil, was beside you through the whole fight. He wielded large war hammer made of various precious metals and stones, as well as prettified wood; it swung through the skies, heating up the air as his Pyro vision burned bright. Much like you, his battle-hungry smile was long gone, replaced by annoyance as he squished another enemy beneath his hammer, blood spraying across his already bloody face.

“UGH! I’m getting bored nouehuepo*!! When are we going to be finished?? I am growing hungry and wish to challenge you to another eating contest after this!!” He shouted, completely ignoring the man running at him with a knife, whom was taken down by another Fatui member.

“I do not know приятель*. But let us continue until no other man stands but us!” And with that, you both continued swinging. You with your fists, sickles and hammers, him with his war hammer and bursts of flame.

Your movements were in sync, almost like a dance as you ravaged the battle field. You had each others back, making you both the most dangerous force on the battlefield.

If only it could’ve stayed that way.

It was a second. A second to look back at your friend to make a mental check.

Then you felt a searing sensation on the side of your face not looking at him. Eyes quickly looking back, a knife was embedded in your skin and a man had his foot on your chest. He smirked, then dragged the burning hot knife up, towards your eye, but before you could fully react.

Everything went white in that eye, then black.

Then, the most searing, burning, awful sensation you had ever felt.

Your scream silenced the battlefield as you bat the man away with the knife still embedded in your flesh, his body skipping across the land like a stone on a lake. Eztil’s eyes landed on you, which was just enough time for another attack.

“EZTIL!!!” You screamed.

…

A sword embedded itself through his chest. Both your eyes widened as your hand left the knife in your eye, reaching out to your now falling comrade.

You refused to cry, because he’d live.

That’s what you said to yourself as you rushed over to him, not minding your injury.

“Eztil, don’t you DARE fucking close your eyes, do you understand me?!?” Blood bubbles from his lips as his breathing slowed. A tear slipped from his eye as one of his hands pressed against your cheek.

“Nouehuepo… take it.” He whispered. Your gaze became confused as you stared at the dying man.

“What..?-“ “My vision. Take it. She shall be of service to… y-you.” He let out a harsh cough, his blood not staining your skin, making you flinch.

“No. It is yours приятель, I could never-“ “It is my last wish. Y-you wouldn’t deny a d-dying man his last wi-sh, would you?” You sighed, smiling at him.

“I don’t want you to die of enemy hands, so would you allow me to do the honors?” His grin widened, a glint in his eyes as he laughed, which quickly turned to hacking up his lungs.

“O-of co-urse!!” He smiled, and you smiled as well. Your hand flew up to the knife in your eye, and tore it out, not caring for the fountain of blood that squelched out. You also didn’t mind the large flap of skin that fell from your cheek, revealing the musculature of your face and your gums and teeth.

“Goodbye, my friend. May you find many fights in the afterlife to satisfy your bloodlust.” He grabbed your hand with the widest smile you’d ever seen in him.

“And ma-y I see you I-in that place!” Your hand came down onto his head, knife imbedding itself into his skull. Then, you raised your arm and planted the knife tainted with you and his blood now into his chest, striking his heart head on.

The light died from his eyes and his vision, but you quickly picked up the small red jewel which had been attached to his hair. Wiping it off, you leaned back and held your hand forward, before slamming the damned thing into your eye.

The battlefield suddenly felt as though it was atop a volcano itself, the air heating up and ash seemingly falling from the sky. You gripped your friend’s weapon, testing it in your hand and grip, swinging it slightly. Your hands pressed to your waist and your hand tilted to the sky, and finally, you laughed.

Your laughter shook the world, men falling in their asses as you showcased your joy. the air grew even hotter as the vision grew even brighter. Your entire body shook as the ear hammer in your hand heated up to a point where the metals were turning white in heat, though they didn’t melt.

You turned to your men, a wide smile on your face and tears, one trail of water and one of blood, streamed from your eyes.

“WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR MEN?!? LET US FIGHT UNTIL ONLY WE REMAIN!! CHARRGGEEE!!!!”

You continued to laugh as you knocked down tens of hundreds of soldiers in one swipe, the sky nearly turning red at the mere sight of your bloodlust and rage.

That night would go down in history. The night the sky cried blood, the fall of a nation of soldiers, the day Natlan would forever regret.

‘The Night Man became a God”

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You stared at the bloodied Tartaglia- no. You stared at your grandson, Ajax’s bloodied form.

He only looked back at you.

“Well, Дедушка? Have I become a God?”

Holy shit this sucked the shit outta me-

This ain’t the best but I hope you enjoyed might go back and make another of these lmao-

Дедушка - Grandfather

ГРАНДФАТЕР - GRANDFATHER

Большой хищник Севера - The Great Predator of the North

МАЛЕНЬКИЙ ОДИН - LITTLE ONE

nouehuepo - my friend

приятель - buddy

#male reader #x male reader #Genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x y/n #male y/n #platonic #family #Childe!Grandpa!Reader

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sister-lucifer · 3 days

Text

Royal Courting: The King’s Summon

Chapter One

In which Lucian, a humble baker, meets two very interesting customers who seem to be more than meets the eye.

Content/Warnings: Original characters, slow burn, Medieval/Fantasy, charmingly mundane slices of life stuff, just fluff and character set up in this chapter, but if you like MLM Poly relationships you should stick around!

You can find the masterlist for this series (among others) in my pinned post!

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, USED COMMERCIALLY OR FED TO AN AI. IF YOU DO THIS I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN AND KILL YOU.

Not fully proofread! Please let me know if you catch any errors!

Lucian stretches out in his bed, groaning as his joints pop and his limbs wake up, readying themselves for the day. Begrudgingly he sits up, dirty blond hair tousled by his pillows in the night. He smooths it down as best he can with his fingers, but there’s not much he can do without the unforgiving bristles of a brush.

With a yawn he throws his legs over the side of his bed and slides his feet into his tattered slippers. He cracks his back for good measure, sighing and blowing a curly lock of hair from between his eyes. As the outside world slowly leaks into his sleep-addled brain, he recognizes the familiar sound of the jays chirping endlessly outside his window; a sure sign that it is, in fact, time to get up.

When he pushes himself out of bed and parts the old curtains hiding his chambers from the rest of the world, the sun is eager to cover his freckled face in its warm light. He blinks a few times to adjust, the blinding brightness of the morning slowly melting into a pleasant glow.

His shapeless pajama gown flows about his round body as he trudges to the bathroom, another yawn crawling up his throat as he comes into view in the mirror. His hair is flicked up in every which way, hazel eyes tired but not unhappy as he walks up to the sink, pudgy tummy bumping against it when he leans over to splash a bit of water on his face.

He feels much more awake than before once he’s dried his rosy cheeks and rubbed his eyes. He plucks his hairbrush from its holder and runs it briefly under the faucet before running it through his fawn tresses, only until the thatch of curls becomes presentable enough. No one’s going to be looking that hard, anyways.

The hairbrush clatters back into its holder and the toothbrush comes out instead. It too is run briefly under the water before being put to work, another step in the morning routine Lucian often finds himself repeating ad infinitum. Minutes later he’s back in his bedroom, rummaging through drawers for something that resembles a put together outfit. It doesn’t have to be perfect when it’s going to be covered with an apron all day.

He decides on brown trousers that are loose around the bottom and a comfortable, worn tunic that won’t get in the way with its flowing sleeves or make his binding garment too obvious. He slips his feet from his house slippers and instead into his trusted woolen-soled shoes, long since shaped to the arch of his feet after so many years.

He pauses to glance in the mirror, turning halfway just to make sure nothing has an obvious rip or tear in it. He adjusts his pants and the bottom of his shirt around the chub of his belly before ultimately deciding it’ll do.

He turns back to grab his mossy green, woolen sweater from the chair he draped it over the night before. The edges are fraying again, he notices, he’ll have to fix that when he has the time. He doesn’t mind it so much now, though, as his arms fit comfortably into the warm sleeves of the garment, thumbs skillfully avoiding getting caught on any of its unnoticed holes or the hasty stitching of its owner from decades prior. Lucian does take note, though, that the split in one side pocket is growing. He’ll have to fix that later, too.

When Lucian pushes open the door connecting his home with his bakery, the comforting, lingering smell of strawberry and buttercream greets him with vigor. It seems to permeate everything in his bakery, though he certainly doesn’t mind. This early the only ones out on the streets are stray dogs retreating to their hiding spots and children headed to the school building up the road.

He pulls the door open and props it with the stop, then flips the sign set up in the window:

Hensley’s is Open! Come on in!

“We’re open, everyone!” Lucian calls, not to anyone in particular.

The first preparations of the day are always the easiest.

First, he pulls his trusty apron from its rack and ties it behind his back, double knotting it just to make sure it’ll hold. Then he pulls the still-good loaves and pastries from yesterday that weren’t sold from their covered baskets, arranging them in his display in the particular way he can’t explain but can’t do without. When he’s satisfied with the results he moves on, giving a quick glance to the door before turning to his oven.

He grips the fire striker with less confidence than he should, his other hand tossing a few logs into the oven before grabbing his flint. As he strikes the stone and the spark sets the wood alight he resist the urge to scramble backwards despite the familiar heat on his knuckles. His back aches as he rises to his full height once more, setting the flint and striker back on their shelf.

He turns his attention to the plants in his windows next. He fills the can with the spout around the side of the bakery (it’s too bulky to fit into the little sink at his station, after all), dropping a bit of water on the wildflowers that bloom outside the building on his way back inside.

Slowly, the watering can’s spout moves over each pot, moved by a practiced hand that has done this countless mornings before. Only when the soil is thoroughly wet does he move on, cycling through one by one until all of his green children have had their fill and the can can be tucked neatly back into place in the cabinet.

Lucian pauses as he takes a look around his bakery. He stops and leans against the counter, taking a moment to admire the scene.

The morning sun comes in rays through the windows, sunning his plants and warming the wood floors. The spring breeze meanders through the open door and just barely rustles his hair about his round cheeks. The distant sound of horseshoes on the path and the other businesses opening their doors signals the awakening of a bustling town. The—

“Mr. Hensley! Mr. Hensley!”

Lucian turns quickly to the sound of clattering and a call of his name outside his bakery, followed shortly by a bleat of surprise. He has only a moment to process before his first arrival in standing in the doorway, his dark hair bouncing in sweet curls around his flushed face and little tail flicking quickly to and fro as he recovers from his crash, bike now laying against the side of the building.

“Oh, Callum,” Lucian sighs, rushing to the boy to brush the dirt from his sleeves, “You have to be careful! Your mother spent a lot of money on this uniform, there’s no telling how much that school will make her pay for another…”

The young faun only blinks up at him with wide blue eyes. He shakes some leaves from his unkempt hair and the fur of his ears before holding out the hot mug he’s brought with him, wrapped in a cloth to keep it from burning his hands.

“Here, Mr. Hensley. Your coffee.”

Lucian’s eyes soften as he takes the mug, removing the covering from the top and watching the steam rise.

“Thank you, Callum.”

The mug is set aside to cool for now, and Lucian quickly returns his attention to the faun boy who’s just collided with his bakery.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” He asks, plucking a stubborn twig from Callum’s nest of hair and rubbing over a scratch on the fresh nubs of his horns.

“No, I’m okay,” Callum replies quickly, brushing off his uniform jacket, “Just in a rush. I woke up late, that’s all. I grabbed my books and I was out the door, I didn’t even have to eat breakfast…”

“…Is that why you’ve left home without shoes?”

Callum pauses and looks down, groaning at the sight of his bare hooves on the wood floors.

“Aw, man! I’m gonna get an earful from the headmaster…”

Lucian feels a bit bad for giggling at the boy’s plight, but he can’t help it. He misses when his problems were that simple.

“You don’t have to bring me coffee every day, you know. I appreciate it, but I’ll survive without it,” Lucian assures him.

“Yeah, I know,” Callum replies with a shrug, absentmindedly toying with the leaves of one of Lucian’s plants, “But Ma says it’s a nice thing to do, especially since you don’t have magic.”

“Oh, well—“

“She says that making coffee ‘n’ stuff without magic takes a lot of time that you don’t have, since you have to work so hard and stuff. Is that true?”

“Er, y-yes, but—“

“She wonders how you do anything without magic, yanno. She says it’s really impressive that this place has stayed open so long when you—“

“Callum! I mean…I understand, Callum. Thank you. Here…”

Lucian takes a loaf of bread from his display, handing it to the boy with haste.

“Can’t have you going on an empty stomach. Run along, and quickly, you’re already running late.”

Callum takes the bread without hesitation, immediately digging in and thanking Lucian through a mouthful of it. In an instant he’s out the door and back on his bike, disappearing down the path. Lucian watches him go only until he’s sure he won’t crash once more.

Lucian sighs as the ache in his back starts to return. The day waits for no one, though, and he’s got work to do.

Throughout the day people pass through his bakery with leisure. Most are familiar, others are new but not unusual. The town of Lydell is a small one, after all. Not rich, but not too poor either, with a good part of its inhabitants planning bigger and better things for themselves and their families beyond the town limits. Every now and then he toys with that idea, that maybe one day he’ll pack himself up and move into one of the big, bustling cities he reads out in the books, with magic pouring from every brick in every wall on every street…

…Foolish imaginings, that’s all. He’s got far too much to do here.

He watches from behind his counter as the sun lazily rolls into place in the center of the sky. The cool breeze of the March morning melts into something warmer, though not suffocatingly hot. Every now and then Lucian must wipe the sweat from his brow after standing in front of his oven for too long, but ‘tis the price one pays for a fresh batch of strawberry turnovers.

Lucian looks up from the hot tray now cooling on the counter at the sound of a crackly meow.

There, in his doorway, a slim figure of a cat with milky white fur splotched with inky stains of black around the feet and tail. It rubs up against the door, mewing softly just to make sure its presence is known. It sits with a regal confidence, not at all perturbed by the people who pass through the door beside it.

“Well, look who decided to stop in today,” Lucian says with a chuckle. The cat meows in reply before lazily sauntering over to the counter.

“Give me just a moment, my dear. When I’ve gotten these customers taken care of I’ll get you your treat.”

The cat seems to understand. This is an exchange they have quite often, after all. With no collar to speak of and an insatiable desire to wander, the little animal is nearly an enigma to Lucian, but he’ll never complain about the company. For now he has to turn his attention to the lanky elf that is patiently awaiting his turn to speak.

By now Lucian can navigate customer interactions with little to no friction. No, he does not have those in a different flavor. Yes, he can make them in a different flavor, but they wouldn’t be ready until tomorrow. Yes, he can go ahead and get some bagged up anyways. No, he does not offer a discount. No, he really doesn’t offer a discount.

“Thank you, come again!”

Lucian sighs as the elf takes his leave, seemingly satisfied enough with the small bag of raspberry shortbread cookies.

He turns to look down at the little cat still waiting patiently by his feet. It blinks slowly, then meows. Lucian laughs and mimics the sound.

He then turns his attention to the cabinet beneath his sink. That’s where he keeps the little bowl and bag of dry food his feline companion loves so much. The cat meows excitedly, and Lucian can see it resisting the urge to hop up on the counter as he dumps the food into the bowl.

“Here, you’ve waited very patiently,” Lucian says as he sets the bowl on the floor, pushing it to the side where he can keep an eye on the cat without it being in his way when he walks around or behind the counter.

He looks back up and out the open door, only to squint in confusion as he tries to make sense of what he’s seeing.

It looks like two horses and their riders coming down the path, which wouldn’t be so odd if it weren’t for what Lucian could swear was the royal crest embroidered onto their side bags. The riders themselves are clad in varying degrees of armor, the metal clinking slowly getting louder as they approach the bakery.

Royal guards? Here? In a little town like Lydell?

Lucian quirks a brow as he watches them approach. He’s expecting them to simply pass by—they probably have important business to attend to, after all—but then one of them pauses. He pulls on the reigns of his horse, whistling and calling to his partner with words Lucian can’t make out from where he’s standing.

It’s clear now that they won’t simply be passing by. Before Lucian even realizes they’ve stopped their horses outside of the bakery, and now they’re hopping down from their saddles.

Now that they’re closer, Lucian can get a better look at them. They’re definitely guards, that’s for sure, and much taller and stronger than any human Lucian has met here in Lydell.

The first one is the shorter of the two, about 5’9, if Lucian were to guess. His skin is tan, a natural copper tone, and his curly hair is dark and thick, shaved underneath and left long on top. He’s smirking for some reason, the expression pressing dimples into his warm cheeks, though something about him makes it seem like he doesn’t need a reason. His eyes are sharp and foxy, the kind that notice little details about everything and everyone and leave others to feel uncomfortably analyzed. His armor is minimal, only a leather chest piece and gloves, and a few daggers are sheathed in his belt. He moves with a lithe swiftness as though he’s unaware of his own weight, hitting the ground without a moment’s stumble as he dismounts from his horse.

The second man isn’t nearly as graceful, but certainly isn’t to be taken lightly. He’s a hulking beast, 6’0 at least, perhaps 6’1, in a full suit of metal armor, save for the missing helmet. He’s paler than death, with long, golden blond hair that’s been lazily thrown back into a low, loose ponytail, leaving a few strands to dangle around his face. His long lashes are the same light color, hovering over icy blue eyes that give way to no emotion. Lucian can only see half his expression, as the bottom part of his face is covered with a dark neck gaiter. He comes down off his horse with a thud and a bit of metallic clinking, giving the animal a gentle pat. With a quick flick of his wrist and a skillful bit of magic he fastens the horses’ reigns to the post without touching them, and shortly after follows his companion inside.

“Woah, it smells amazing in here!” The shorter one exclaims, the pale one giving a nod of agreement in response, “I told you stopping was a good idea, I— Oh, look! They have strawberry turnovers!”

Lucian has to bite back a chuckle as he rushes up to the counter like an excitable child, fumbling around in his pockets for money.

“Two silvers each,” Lucian replies, “How many? And will you be staying, or should I get you a bag?”

“Six please, three for each of us, and, eh…we’ll stay!” The man replies, shrugging at his partner, “We could use the rest. We’re headed back to Bascilium from Nora.”

“Nora? Gods above, that’s far up north, what could possibly be so urgent the king felt the need to send his guards?” Lucian asked, not looking away from the two men as he moved to slip a few turnovers from their tray onto plates.

“Oh, you know, just a little farm worker’s uprising. Apparently people don’t like having their gifts of agricultural magic exploited to feed corporate bigwigs. Funny how that works!”

Lucian forces a laugh, although he’s not sure what’s funny. The taller one still hasn’t said a word, instead occupying himself by looking around the bakery.

“So, I take it you got it figured out, then?” Lucian asks, handing the plates over.

“Mhm!” The man replies with a grin, eagerly taking the plates and handing one to his colleague, “Well, as figured out as it can be for now. Things like this happen a lot in Nora with all the industrialization. King Ambrose is working on sending a few delegates down there to smooth out some of the systems. You know there’s—“

The man is swiftly cut off by an elbow to the ribs from his partner. He turns to question what the could have possibly been for, but the taller one gives only a one handed gesture in response. Sign language of some kind, if Lucian were to guess. Whatever he said, it puts the first man at ease.

“Ah, yeah, I’m rambling. Sorry about that, mister, uh…” He pauses, squinting to read Lucian’s name tag. “…Lucian. Hey, I like that name. I’m Tobias, Tobias Silva, and the guy I rode in with is Rex Theroux. I take it you’re the ‘Hensley’ that runs this place?”

“Yessir,” Lucian replies with a suddenly confident grin, “Lucian Hensley, that’s me. Forgive me for bragging, but this little place is my pride and joy.”

“Well then I’m glad we stopped in! Feels like this trip has us running all over Divestia.”

This earns a snort from Rex, and a few more signs that have an air of sass to them.

“Well, okay, yeah,” Tobias concedes, “It was my idea to take the scenic route through here, but it worked out well enough, didn’t it? You could never find good food this cheap in Bascilium. Oh, shit, I almost forgot—!”

He quickly dips his free hand into his pocket, pulling out a small pouch and setting it on the counter. He pulls out twelve silver coins and hands them to Lucian, who gladly accepts them and tucks them away into his drawer.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Silva.”

“Just Tobias is fine, don’t worry about it. We don’t really do formalities.”

“Oh, alright then. Thank you, Tobias. Enjoy your turnovers.”

Tobias gives a quick nod before gesturing for Rex to follow him to one of the little tables pushed up against the large windows of the bakery. Lucian finds himself smiling at the talkative young man and his silent, looming shadow; a charming pair, those two are. Perhaps that’s why Lucian finds himself glancing over at them as they eat despite his occupation with his work. Tobias’s chatter never ceases except for when he’s chewing, but at the same time his attention doesn’t waver from his silent partner when he signs a response. Tobias gestures widely as he speaks, threatening to knock over a plant or two when he gets particularly excited, whereas Rex keeps his movements sharp and controlled, a skilled hand showing his familiarity with the silent language he utilizes. The pair seem to get along with no issue despite the way their natures juxtapose one another, but then again, perhaps that’s what makes them so compatible.

Tobias and Rex sit and shoot the breeze for about an hour, maybe, having finished their turnovers halfway through but not realizing, or at least not caring. The sun has just barely rolled towards the west end of the sky, shadows now slanting under the light. The foot traffic around the bakery has slowed a bit, so Lucian has taken to wiping down his counter and empty tables. That is, until he looks up at the sound of his name.

“Hey, Lucian?” Tobias calls with a wave of his hand, “Can you come here for a sec?”

Lucian collects his rag and approaches the table Tobias and Rex have made themselves comfortable at, giving them a polite smile.

“Yes? Is something the matter?”

“Oh no, not at all,” Tobias is quick to reply, “Rex just wants to know about your plants, what kinda magic you’re using to keep ‘em looking this green.”

Lucian’s eyes turn to Rex, and he’s almost surprised to see his neck gaiter pushed down under his chin. He’s not sure why he’s surprised; how else was he supposed to eat? Or, perhaps, he’s simply surprised that his face is so unremarkable. Handsome, yes, but no scars or deformities, although Lucian doesn’t know why he expected there to be any. Maybe that’s simply the assumption one makes when another has their face covered for without obvious reason.

Wait, what was the question? Oh, right, the plants.

“I don’t use any magic, actually,” Lucian explains, suddenly feeling sheepish, “I, um…don’t have any.”

“Wait, what?” Tobias says, a bit louder than he meant to (a lot louder, actually; the sudden exclamation makes Rex wince a bit), “You run this whole damn place without magic? Wow, I mean, don’t get me wrong, that’s really impressive! I just can’t believe someone like you would— Ow!”

He’s promptly cut off once more with a smack on the arm and a sharp look from Rex. Tobias swipes his arm away and puts his hands up defensively.

“What? What I’d say? I didn’t deserve it that time!”

Lucian laughs softly behind his hand, unable to ignore Tobias’s natural dramatics.

“It’s alright,” He assures the two, “I get that sort of thing a lot. I admit, it is rather impressive, though I don’t like to gloat. As far as the plants go, it’s just a matter of keeping them watered and not letting the soil go dry.”

Rex considers his words, nodding and doing a brief gesture that almost resembles a salute.

“Oh, he says thank you,” Tobias clarifies.

“It’s no problem,” Lucian says, returning the courteous nod, “Can I take those plates from you?”

“Huh? Oh! Yes, please, we’ve really got to get going…thanks again, those were amazing. We’ll definitely be stopping by again.”

“Well, I’m very happy to hear that,” Lucian replied, unable to stop himself from grinning as his heart swelled with pride. He’d just bagged himself two more returning customers, and royal guards no less! Perhaps they’ll spread the word of this little place. Wishful thinking, maybe, but maybe not.

Rex and Tobias gather themselves and rise from their table as Lucian drops the plates into the sink. He returns a brief wave as they both walk out the door, Rex giving another salute before turning away; one last thank you, Lucian assumes.

He watches as the pair mount their horses once again, settling upon their saddles before heading off down the path.

“Interesting pair of characters, those two are,” Lucian mumbles to himself as he turns back to his work. The little cat, which has now moved to basking on the window sill, meows in what Lucian chooses to interpret as agreement.

The pair of guards arrive back to the castle at nightfall, the last few rays of sun allowing them to walk their horses back to the stables before they head in for the night.

First thing’s first: The king expects a full report.

Tobias doesn’t bother knocking, entering King Ambrose’s office with an incredible amount of casualness. He strides in with Rex, who at least has the decency to close the door back, following close behind him, as usual. Ambrose looks up from the papers he was studying, hard expression instantly melting away into a familiar smile.

“My boys,” Ambrose purrs, standing up from his chair and walking around the front of his desk, “You’ve finally returned.”

The guards nod in unison, and Tobias can’t stop himself from taking a moment to study his beautiful king. Ambrose is quite the stunning man after all; his skin is dark, as are his eyes, and his ebony hair is done up in locs so impossibly long they nearly brush the floor when he walks, decorated with gold cuffs and never less than perfectly maintained. His slim figure is draped in gold and white, as usual, for even a king’s most casual outfit is extravagant. He’s set his crown aside for now, as he usually does when working, but he has yet to remove the rest of his jewelry, as evidenced by the gold sparking on his wrists, fingers, ears and neck.

“So? How did it go? I assume well, seeing as you aren’t quite as disheveled as I’d expect from a failed attempt at quelling riots,” Ambrose teases as he hops up onto his desk, crossing his legs and making himself comfortable.

“It went very well, sir,” Tobias answers with a grin, “Things have been set straight, and a temporary peace agreement was reached to keep the people satisfied until your delegates arrive.”

“Very good, both of you,” Ambrose praises. Tobias’s grin only widens, and Rex signs a humble thank you.

“Oh, and,” Tobias eagerly adds, “On the way back we stopped in at this little bakery in Lydell, and—“

“Lydell?” Ambrose interrupts, “That’s quite a ways off the path back from Nora. What were you two doing there? Is that what took you so long?”

He’s trying to feign seriousness, but the playful quirk of his brow and hint of a chuckle in his voice gives away his humor.

“Mm, maybe,” Tobias says with a sly shrug, “But it was worth it. They had the best strawberry turnovers.”

‘Although T was far more interested in the man behind the counter,’ Rex signs, eyeing his colleague with a lighthearted sort of suspicion.

“I was not,” Tobias quickly protests, “And just how do you figure that, hm?”

‘You kept glancing over at him while you ate. I don’t think you realized you were doing it, but it was obvious to me. Maybe he liked it, though. He kept looking at us, too.’

Tobias huffs, crossing his arms and cursing his inability to pull an argument from thin air like usual. His cheeks are getting warm.

Ambrose laughs, hopping down from his desk and giving Tobias a reassuring pat on the arm.

“So, he was a cutie, huh?” Ambrose chortles, “What was he like?”

“Honestly, cute is an understatement,” Tobias replies, “He was this short, chubby little thing who looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. He was nice, too, and I know he has to be nice to us because, you know, we’re customers, but still. And, I mean, how can you not be interested in someone who makes such heavenly strawberry turnovers?”

“If they’re that good, I shall have to try them some time. See what all the fuss is about. Maybe I’ll have a chance to meet this little baker crush of yours as well.”

“Oh, come on…!”

Ambrose laughs again, unable to stop himself. For a moment Tobias swears he can even see a smile make Rex’s eyes crinkle at the edges despite being hidden by his neck gaiter.

“Well, either way,” Ambrose coos, reaching up to gently cup his guards’ chins in his hands, “You’ve both done very well. Come here.”

Tobias rolls his eyes, but nevertheless they both lean in, allowing their king to give them each a brief kiss on the cheek.

“Good boys. Go on now, you need your rest after such a long trip,” Ambrose says with a wave of his hand before returning to his seat at his desk.

His guards bow briefly, all three of them exchanging well wishes and good nights before the door is shut again, leaving Ambrose alone in his study.

“Cute little baker indeed,” The king mumbles with a laugh, “I’m sure they’ll be going back there…if Tobias has anything to say about it, at least…”

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#royal courting #original fiction #fantasy #magic #original characters #original character #fantasy oc #medieval romance #fantasy romance #slow burn #fluff #mlm fiction #mlm romance

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