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#at least give me a hint as to where or how I can find out more info on my own
zombeebunnie · 2 days
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Trembling Essence:💙Choice exploration + finished scenes💙
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Hello and welcome new followers, here's an update on how things are going with the game! Firstly a big thank you to the sudden influx of support I got this week, I'm happy knowing people liked the little meme video I did! :,]
This post might be a little long since I had to rewrite a few things, I was trying to upload a picture of one of the new areas you can go in but I got an error and couldn't save what I wrote. :,S
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Anywho, I mainly focused on quality of life changes and continued working with the one of the endings you can get at the start of the game.
I don't really know where to start but this ending took a lot longer than expected to really hit what I've been trying to go for. At first, it was going to have two different endings. I took out one of them because I didn't have much of a connection with it and I liked the idea of it being straightforward instead. When I went back over it, everything happened too quickly for my liking. To fix this I went back and added a few choices to at least give you an idea of what the area is like and how it effects the player(Y/N) while making sure the dialog transitioned correctly with what you see on the screen. It's nothing too wordy but I do like it a lot more than I did before. Even though this is still considered one ending there is a alternate version you can get depending on a certain choice. Towards the end I fixed up all the spelling errors I could find and happily enough, there wasn't many. For right now I'd say this ending is finished! Yay! x]
Here's one of my favorite CG's I drew for it:
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I love how it turned out because I really want to do different angles and perspective through the terrain, I think this one is my favorite so far! :,,]
Here's a evening time version of it:
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It's suppose to be raining in this image but I still need to practice getting the angle correct. :,,]
I'm also fixing/brainstorming up the second/third ending. This one will have two different areas you can navigate through to get an idea of where you are and a few hints of lore that will be referenced later on in the game. Those that have played the [Extended Demo] you probably know which ones I'm talking about. >;]
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I already like the idea of them but for one of the paths, I didn't have enough time to branch it out and make backgrounds for it in the [Extended Demo] so here's a peek of a placeholder since I'm still sketching stuff out, nothing is finalized yet. :[]
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Super close to the cabin section, yay! I actually miss writing/drawing out the segments in the cabin a whole bunch so I really can't wait to fix up that part once I'm done with the swamplands. :,,]
I said last week I'd post some of the new backgrounds/areas so here you go:
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Kofi update:
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I also had a small talk with my play testers and one of the things they brought up is that I should be promoting my ko-fi better so from now on I'll have little mini doodles doing so at the end of every game development post as a way to promote it! :] All donations and tips help tremendously while I work on the game. If you like what I create, please consider supporting what I do here! I was able to use previous tips to get a new wrist support brace when I'm drawing so a very big thank you to everyone who gave a tip! :,,]
Q&A / Ask box is open:
If you have any questions about Trembling Essence/Noah feel free to ask here or on itch.io please. This makes it easier for me to see and answer accordingly! I would really like to hear from you guys!
I enjoyed answering the asks I got recently this week! I'm trying to finish the rest when I can including the ones I remember that got deleted. There were some I genuinely couldn't answer because it would require me to mention major spoilers/the questions have spoilers in them. :,]
This post is getting really long now so that's all I have to discuss, thank you guys very much for all of the encouraging support this past week, I appreciate it a whole bunch! :,,]
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Soup Kitchen
Prologue =-= Next
Author's note: Su'cona's debut in Husbandry.
Warnings: Let me know if I need to add any.
Summary: Su'cona
Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams,
Tagged continued: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k
Su'cona had been wandering on this planet for a while, he's kept count of the days, he's tried to send a message on the Vox and all he'd gotten back was static and he'd been glad to find some form of civilization, but none of the base line humans spoke any of the languages that he knew.
He'd listen to them quietly, he'd run out of rations, hydration and nutrition three days ago, and his stomach had started to complain to him loudly. Also his headache was reaching a wicked crescendo, as it made light of the sun, or artificial light agonizing, even with his helmet protecting his face.
He stopped as he smelled something really good and his stomach gurgled angrily at him as he headed towards the source of the delicious smell. There were a bunch of base line humans, some were nicely dressed and handing out brown paper bags filled with food, to humans that had a much rougher appearance.
He slowly, carefully approaches, there was also a nearly free standing cooking area that had a large cauldron of soup happily burbling and one of the humans who were in nearly identical uniform of some kind was carefully ladling out soup into bowls that other humans were gratefully taken with the paper bag of longer shelf-life lasting food.
One of the people handing out the free food spots him and gives him a bright smile and waves him over. Su'cona carefully approaches them with a tilt of his helmet and they offer him a steaming bowl of soup and the bag of food, a fruit, some vegetables, a sandwich of some kind in sealed plastic, and a metal can filled with something carbonated.
He gratefully accepts both things, even though he knows that it won't be nearly enough calories to fill his belly full, at least it will do something to keep the hunger partially at bay.
He takes of his helmet and murmurs, "Thank you kind one."
They babble at him and he nods to them, as he sits down and carefully eats the soup, it tastes so good, it's warm, hot and filled with vegtables and some kind of meat, the texture reminds him of poultry.
Then, he carefully eats the sandwhich, fruit, a bright red skinned fruit that was about half the size of his palm. He bites into it, eating half of it in one go, its sweet and crunchy and he finishes it swiftly. While the vegtables are a bright-dark green and have the taste of clorophil and growing things.
The metal can that has the metal drink is colorful, and he can tell that there is writing on it, but he doesn't read the local language, so he cracks it open how he sees the base line humans around him do and takes a sip, it fizzes and bubbles and is incredibly sweet with hints of citrus in it that is almost overwhelming, yet he's not going to let it go to waste as he finishes the whole fizzy drink in several large swigs. He carefully takes the refuse to one of the large trash bins nearby and then heads back over to the human.
"Is there a way I can help?" He asks them.
They talk to him in the local's tongue that he doesn't understand yet, before they gesture for him to help with moving some supplies, they look heavy, for a base line human.
But is easy enough for him to pick up and carry with his superior strength, he takes it to where they gesture and gently sets it down before starting to help serve base line humans in, what he hears is called a 'zoup kitchen'.
Giving food to those less fortunate is a good, kind act. One that his gene-father would be happy to participate in. One that he's happy to help with as they serve other base line humans for most of the day. He continues to help and some of the humans are almost tearful in how grateful they are for the food.
The leftovers are easily, happily handed over to the less fortunate humans who happily tote the rest of the food bags with them to other parts of this city. He helps the Zoup Kitchen staff clean up and he's happy to help.
One of the humans that is apart of the staff for the Zoup Kitchen, for some reason he feels like he should follow them. A warmth spreading in his soul as he got to watch them work and help others. Like a chain, or something looping around him and tying him to them.
It didn't feel forced, and from what he can tell of the base line human, they seem to be unaware of this strange spontaneous bond that has formed, and they don't seem as if they are a Psyker.
Several days later, and he continues to help at this Zoup Kitchen in order to have something to fill his belly with, an Ultramarine shows up and blinks at him and they talk about the State of Things, and he says goodbye to his human for a moment- he will go with the Ultramarine to the nearest base for more information, before going back to his human.
Learning about when and where they are is… quite the shock. Also, learning about how the Space Marines are from, as near as anyone can tell every when and everywhere and that… well… He wonders just how messy things might, could get with the Space Marines from before the Heresy, while those during and post Heresy have a lot of… dark, grim portents to inform the others as needed.
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whimsyprinx · 1 year
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I’m so tired of youtube and tiktok censoring and the fact that if you wanna discuss a serious topic or drama (for lack of a better word) you have to deal with words being censored be it bleeped out or blurred out lest their video get dw monitored or reported for having “no no words” like for fucks sake stop trying to sanitize everything, for the sake of learning more about things happening in the world at very fucking least let people say and show the damn words
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soaps-mohawk · 2 months
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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.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
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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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@smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60
@evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @linaangel @codsunshine
@thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows
@ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce
@darling006 @sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood
@daniblogs164 @mirzamsaiph
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murdrdocs · 4 months
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repressed and desperately horny luke who has never seen a porn video vs new to camp reader who used to be able to watch it whenever they wanted but now can't even flick the bean in peace
oh and maybe reader who gives Luke a dirty polaroid or two they've been hiding before they leave camp for the fall
— 🦣
🦣 anon strikes again omg. this concept actually makes me all giddy i want it to be something Bigger hence the informal format but just follow me here okay.
just thinking about ya'll finding each other in a moment of need. fate, really, if either of you believed in the concept. you, grumpy and insatiable from lack of proper sexual satisfaction, and luke, knowing he's feeling something but he doesn't know how to expel the need. sure he jacks off sometime, but not nearly as much as a guy of his age usually would.
so there you are, grumbling about, eyes narrowed, mimicking the behavior of ares kids (your possible siblings but it's anyone's guess at this point) and luke just has to go and be the mediator, asking what's got you so down. of course, you're wound up so tight, and a little grateful that someone your age has asked the question because you can finally tell the truth.
out comes your dirty secrets. your longing for peace and quiet to get off. your slightly remorseful nature because you had no idea that you were that reliant on pornography to help you out. and luke is just standing there, ears reddening as he suddenly finds the trees behind you incredibly interesting.
but luke is a Problem Solver, so he awkwardly has a suggestion for you. "the showers right before the bonfire are usually pretty deserted. and for your ..." he scratches a nonexistent itch behind his ear. "other problem, my brothers have some old magazines i could lend to you."
you snort, arms folding as you pretend to be disinterested. but really anything would satiate you at this point. "what are they? women on motorcycles? maybe an old playboy mag?"
luke shrugs. "dunno. never seen 'em."
and it takes you a second. a really long, tense, and warm (for luke) second where you eye him up. noticing his stance, taking in his clipped words, how he said them. and it occurs to you that little demigod luke, having been at camp half blood since 14, has never seen what the world has to offer in the pornography department. or if he has, he hasn't seen the porn of today.
and unfortunately, it's impossible for you to fix his issue in naivety. there are no phones in camp and even if there were, you don't think the service out here would be all too good. which leaves you to improvise.
you do end up getting the mags from the hermes boys, critiquing their selection with a scrutinized glare at the pages, flicking through them with the edge of your shirt to avoid any remnants. and then you report back to luke, telling him to give them a look, prefacing it by telling him that things now are much more entertaining. slyly hinting at your ears being open if he wanted to give his opinion.
which, he does. standing awfully close to you at the bonfire one night, body turned just a little so he can speak lowly.
"there's ... things better than that out there?"
you nod, affirming his statement while attempting to hide a small smile. the magazines were barely pornography in your eyes, women in manufactured poses to appeal to men. skin artificially smoothed, their cunts shockingly dry, their poses so meticulous. it lacked the emotion and desire that you enjoyed to watch.
and poor luke didn't even know the half of it.
at least you do introduce him to what he could be consuming just before you leave camp that summer, sliding him two polaroids you'd managed to take.
one of you in the showers, body littered with clumps of suds. your skin shining from the overhead light which gleams from the water along your body. it's taken from a low angle, the side of your backside being the main focal point with your tits at the top just barely making the cut.
and then the other is much more lewd, showing luke what the magazines should have. you, on your back in a camp bed, wearing nothing but your standard issued shirt which is bunched up around the waist. your free hand is between your spread thighs, two fingers clearly singled out to spread your lips and reveal just how wet and shiny your cunt is. and after one of his many sessions of getting off over it, the post nut clarity manifests as hyper analyzing for luke.
he notices the familiar pair of shoes off to the corner, the pillowcase he had one of his brothers sneak in last summer, the stain he's never been able to get out of his fitted sheet.
and suddenly the picture has new meaning for him.
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jacaerysgf · 2 months
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Plagued by you
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r.q: requesting this please, alicent's daughter x jacaerys… and an angry confession.. "I burn for you." type ❤️😭 like he wants to her to come with him and be team black.
c.w: Otto doesn't go to Dragonstone you do; alicents daughter!reader, minor angst, dialogue heavy, reader “hates” jacaerys, hints of rhaelicent, not proofread
w.c: 1.6k (finally a shorter jace fic…)
a.n: anthony bridgerton ass confession lmaoo, hope you all enjoy :3
part two part three coming soon
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You were currently pacing back and forth in the room rhaenyra allowed you to stay in on Dragonstone. You had come to see her, to ask her to declare for Aegon. She had obviously argued back and forth with you, up until nightfall where she said she would retreat for the night and the two of you could finish this tomorrow in the morning before you flew back in the morning. You argued that you would leave right then but only to find out that it had begun to storm so heavily. Realizing you would not be able to travel anywhere in this weather you reluctantly agreed and here you were.
In truth you did not want to come here. You had begged your mother to send someone else to anyone else but she was instant it be you. 
“Mother, why not send grandsire? He will be a much better negotiator than me.” she fiddles with your cloak, a far away look on her face before she moves to cup your face.
“Rhaenyra certainly likes you more than she likes him. She will treat you kindly.”
“She will say no mother you know this.” 
She lets out a trembled sigh and grips your face tightly in her hands and presses her forehead against yours “If not for his sake you must try, for me. For my sake I do not wish for this to go to. To see her harmed.” 
You've always known your mother has a very complicated relationship with rhaenyra if you can even call it that. She hated her, or at least that's what it seemed to be. 
She turns and grabs your bag before giving you a knowing look. 
“And I know you also have some unresolved things, do not deny it. I can recognize that look on your face. You must let these things go. Lest you end up like me.” 
You feel sick at the idea of Him. You hate jacaerys velaryon. Him and his stupid pride, his stupid face. His stupid everything. You have never hated anyone the way you hate him. You never understood how much a person could hate someone seemingly as much as your mother seemed to hate rhaenyra. The way she seemed to be all she could talk and even think about, going on endless rants to the point you felt you knew more about rhaenyra than your own mother. Until you met him. Now though you understood her completely, when you were no more than six jacaerys became the target of your anger.
Due to his torment of your twin brother aemond you quickly began to hate him. You would spend all your free time thinking of him and how to get back at him. The two of you always bickered and argued, when you would look over at him he was always already glaring at you. 
You were more than relieved he and his family were leaving after the incident at driftmark, but there was a part of you that when your days dragged on you began to miss him. Tormenting him of course there was no way you actually wished to spend time with him, there was no way…. Definitely not.
You haven't seen him during your time here. You would think he would be in the room where you were negotiating but he was nowhere to be seen. You did not want to ask about him, though the question has been on the tip of your tongue.
Suddenly there was some aggressive knocking on your door and you froze, turning towards it holding your breath. “Who is it?” there's no answer but you know exactly who it is and hesitant for a moment contemplating if you should even let him in. You end up swiftly making your way towards the door and opening it just a bit, planning on telling him to just go away but before you can say anything he's pushing his way into the room storming past you with an angry look on his way. You lean against the door to support yourself as you feel lightheaded just looking at him. 
“You are an absolutely ridiculous woman.” you do not speak, unable to, only able to watch as he runs his hand through his curls and paces in the room just as you had been. “Do you only wish to torment me?”
“I am here for my brother-” “You should not have come.” there's a venom in his voice and he does not even look at you. You find yourself growing more annoyed at him. “I do not care what you think. I would be gone by now if your mother had not been so stubborn-” he turns to look at you and makes his way to stand right in front of you, barely any space between the two of you. “Jacaerys…” “you do not want your brother to sit the throne.” it was true, as much as you tolerated your brother, the thought of him sitting on the throne disgusted you. He would not be a good king, “you know not of what i believe.” “I know this is true, you shouldn't lie to me.” 
“You act as if you know me.”
He scoffs, turning his head away from you for a moment before looking you dead in the eyes, so close you can feel his breath on your face. “I don't know you? I know that you hate the summer because you get too hot in your long dresses, i know you love whenever the chefs make cake and you would sneak into the kitchen to grab a slice, i know you despise your mothers perfume because it hurts your nose but you could never tell her such a thing because it brings her comfort,” he pauses for a moment moving somehow even closer to you, pressing his forehead against yours and closing his eyes, “i know when you are lying you scrunch up your nose,” he moves his head to your neck and takes a deep breath of your scent before lifting his head back up and his forehead is against yours once more. “And worst of all I know you desire me as I do you.” 
You shake your head as you suppress a whimper from your neck, “no,,,” “you will not deny it. You will not deny something I know to be true with every bone in my body with every drop of blood in my body.”  
With a long silence between you, neither of you saying a word he pushes away from you and goes back to standing where he was, that angry look back on his face. “You must go.” you look outside and notice that the storm has since stopped, your brain is currently running a mile a minute barely able to think. “I shall head back to the keep-” “that is not far enough!” 
He grips his head in frustration as he begins to pace once more, “you could travel to dorne, to essos to bravos and it would not be far enough to free me from this torment you have put me through, For the thoughts of you that plague my mind to cease to exist. Even after I pass I am sure when I am faded to nothing but bones and ashes the picture of you will be laced where my heart should be.” 
He quickly moves back over to you and cups your face once more bringing himself so explicitly close to you he should be kissing you. The way you two are pressed against each other is more intimate than a kiss, more romantic than any confession. You lose yourself in the heat of the moment, unable to control yourself for a while. You want to kiss him, you want him to kiss you. Before you regain the small sense of control you have to push him away from you shaking your head. “I must go home, my mother-” “Stay here. Stay with me.” He stares into you a way nobody else ever has, like he's truly trying to see you and not the facade you put on for everyone else. “My mind, body and soul yearns and burns for you uncontrollably and now that you stand in front of me I cannot take it.” He takes your hand and presses it against his heart where you can feel it being erratically as yours was as well. “Tell me you do not want me and I shall turn my back and allow you to leave. But do not beg me to watch you as I fear my heart cannot take it.” 
He takes another step closer to you and does not break eye contact with you. “Tell me you do not desire me and tell me at once my love, my heart please you must.” 
You shake your head as tears begin to form in your eyes, “I cannot.” “then stay.” you angle your head and kiss him, praying that through your actions he can too understand that you indeed burn for him the way he burns for you. You decide in the moment to say fuck it. Fuck your mother, fuck your brother, fuck the crown and screw everyone and everything else that is not him because you hate him so much that he has fully consumed every part of you like a parasite. Yet you have done the same to him. 
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pomefioredove · 1 month
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Can I make a request for Floyd x reader yuu, where Floyd tries to confess to the reader in every way, even using mer courting methods, but they don't realize that, not that I'm not in love with him, it's just that the reader isn't good at understanding romantic advances? Just a fluffy request :)
this is such a cute prompt!! I got the worst writer's block when I started it, hopefully you're still here anon
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summary: floyd confessing to an oblivious reader type of post: headcanons characters: floyd additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu author's note: this totally got me to rewatch the little mermaid, I also tried studying eel mating patterns and apparently scientists don't know how eels mate???
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the change is... noticeable, to say the least
Floyd has been humming lately, skipping through the dorm, picking flowers and leaving them around the lounge
Jade finds it amusing, Azul is a little annoyed
after all, he's supposed to be working, not sprinkling little pink flowers all over Azul's desk
it becomes painfully obvious to everyone that Floyd has a thing for you
...everyone except you, that is
you suppose the company is nice
you've even gotten used to the way he hovers around you, watching everything you do as if it's the most interesting thing in the world
maybe you've even grown fond of it
after all, there's never a dull moment with Floyd around. he's as interesting and unpredictable as they come
so, you don't even bat an eye when he starts leaving little trinkets around for you
a fork here, a pair of glasses there, a few gadgets and gizmos...
you can't seem to figure out why, so you just call it Floyd being Floyd and don't read too much into it
one day, you get flowers
...although, when you ask Azul, he just grumbles something about Floyd leaving flowers all over the lounge
you're also not sure why everyone keeps giving the two of you odd looks when you're out together
or why Floyd is suddenly so insistent on being near you all the time
you catch him following you more than once
and he'll take any excuse to put his arm around you
your thought process is mostly sure, why not? whilst everyone else is already rolling their eyes at the PDA
if you ever get the hint, you might ask Azul and Jade if they think Floyd is into you
"Into you???" Azul says. "We thought you were already dating!"
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maiiiwrites · 10 months
Text
★ | ATTENTION STUDENTS . JPEG
PAIRING ! theodore nott x f!reader
IN WHICH your arrival at hogwarts is stirring up trouble
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you roamed the halls of hogwarts. feeling overwhelmed in a good way. no words are enough to explain how happy you are to finally be here. the transfer process took so long and stressed everyone who handled it. thankfully your parents assigned someone to do the papers for you.
your arrival at hogwarts mid term grabbed everyone's attention. everyone had questions and wasn't exactly quiet about their theories. they wanted to know who, what, where, why you we're here.
"a new student? in the middle of the term?"
"how odd is that?"
"look there she is, the new student"
you continued walking, not bothering to acknowledge the students trying to get your attention. you were only looking forward to one person. in that exact moment, your eyes finally met for the first time in months. you couldn't mask your excitement from that interaction alone.
theodore didn't expect a new student, much less his lovely girlfriend. his gaze softened and a small smile managed to slip through.
two souls finally feeling each others presence after being apart for too long
that's how it went for the next few days. just simple little glances and the occasional exchange of letters. much to theodore's dismay, his subtle actions of affection did not go unnoticed by the group.
blaise was particularly nosey about his relationship with you. he was always the one who caught onto the small smiles across the hall, playing on the thread bracelet on his wrist, and the hidden love letters in his desk drawer.
"sooo.. theodore what's up with you and the new gal," blaise not so subtly asked during breakfast.
theodore perked at the mention of you, "nothing."
"oh come on there's obviously something! at least give me a hint," blaise continued.
"sure. here's a hint, im not telling you."
theodore knew there was no escaping this. they're bound to find out sooner or later. for now, the plan was to stay silent and leave loose ends. leave them curious for a while, but his fool proof plan came crashing down the moment you walked in the great hall.
you smiled at your friends seated at the table. looking forward to having your stomach filled. however, boys surrounded you with gifts and letters before you could even settle down.
you attempted to slip away but they were simply too much. feeling more crowded by the passing second. theodore didn't like how crowded you seemed. the obvious panic on your features was his last straw.
he abruptly stood up from his seat and walked towards you. leaving his friends intrigued by the sudden outburst.
theodore easily made his way to you and wrapped his arms around your middle. the action catching you by surprise until realizing its just theo. your theo.
"everyone back off! you're making my girl feel uncomfortable,"
the whole hall went silent at the confession. the crowd of boys slowly disappeared heartbroken and taken aback from theodore's claim. leaving his act of affection on display for everyone to see.
you turn around facing theodore. finally seeing him up close since your arrival.
"is it just me or you got prettier since the last time i saw you?" you teased.
theodore rolled his eyes and kissed the corner of your lips. "you've been causing a lot of trouble lately," theodore hummed.
you gasp, faking offense by his words. "are you accusing your sweet girlfriend?"
he laughed at your silly antics and hugged you tighter. "never, trouble."
you smiled hearing your special nickname.
"i love you and all but your friends are burning holes through my head," you point, particularly at blaise. theodore finally realized you're both (still) in the middle of the great hall wrapped in each others arms.
he chuckled finding the entire situation funny. theodore finally let you go and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "i better go back, trouble."
"does this mean we can visit each other now.." you beamed.
who has he to deny your love and attention. "always."
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© maiiiwrites — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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ode2rin · 1 year
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just a short fluff for itoshi sae before i commit to my full fic for him, figured that i need to let this out to be able to focus on my sch works ._. | warning: a lil ooc sae and not proof read !
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sae is giving you the cold shoulder. 
and if you counted it right, you’ve received a total of two side-eyes and an eye roll from him.
he’s obviously mad at you, and you don’t know whether to feel bad or laugh your ass off for the reason why.
apparently, sae finds it extremely offensive that you did not use his credit card for the groceries he asked you to buy. if he didn’t open his phone to check his emails while you sorted out the said groceries, he wouldn’t know that you did not use the black card he handed you. there was no notification from his bank indicating the non-use of the card.
“you didn’t use my card?”
“hm? oh yeah. it’s in my wallet. figured it wasn’t mu– wait why are you glaring at me?”
in your opinion (which he finds dumb), it’s nothing so bad, actually. but sae has been acting as if you committed a heinous crime under his name and you ran away from it. the way he’s acting right now is so far from what the public knew about him. huffing and puffing, blatantly avoiding looking at you. the older itoshi has a habit of being a bit dramatic, only a few knew that.
scratch that, only you know that.
“sae,” you say, trying to get his attention.
“sae!”
“i’m trying not to talk to you, if you can’t tell.”
you let out an amused chuckle at his reply, in which you received your third side-eye of the day. 
“what? i didn’t think it would be this big of a deal.”
sae scoffed, “well, it is to me.”
sensing the gravity in his tone, your steps led you towards the couch where he sat. without hesitation, you eased yourself next to him, sinking into the soft cushions. you curled your arms around his, feeling the warmth of his skin and the strength of his muscles. as you nestled closer, you rested your chin on his broad shoulder, feeling the rise and fall of his chest with every breath he took.
though he still faced away from you, you reached out to hold his hand that was resting on his thigh, interlacing your fingers with his. despite the anger simmering just beneath the surface, he didn't resist your gesture. sae was not one to deny physical affection from you, even when his emotions were running high. and you rightfully took advantage of that whenever the situation called for it, as it did right now.
“alright. i’m sorry,” you say, looking at your interlocked hands.
“are you, really?” a hint of sarcasm tinged his voice.
he was right, you weren't.
turning to face him, “yes, i’m not sorry. it wasn’t much, and the groceries were for the both of us. can’t i do that at least?” 
“it’s not about what you can do. it’s about what i want to do for you.”
sae briefly glanced at you before turning his gaze to the front as if he didn't want to see your reaction to what he said.
the truth is, sae thinks you deserve a nobel prize for putting up with him. but he couldn’t give you that, nor could he perfectly put into words how grateful he was to have you by his side.
sae could only show you, and this was one of his only ways. you can't take it away from him, much to your displeasure in using his money.
feeling touched from the sincerity of your lover’s words, you could only let out a sacred whisper of his name. he turned to you at the sound of his name coming out from your lips.
oh, how he loves that sound.
“don’t do this again,” sae said while running his thumb on your knuckles, still locking his gaze on yours as if he’s committing every one of your features to memory.
leaning closer to you, you felt the anticipation coiling in the pit of your stomach. slowly, his lips met yours in a soft, tender kiss, a gentle gesture that sae hoped conveyed the depth of his feelings for you. he pulled away from the kiss, leaving just enough space for him to speak.
“everything that i am is yours. use it.”
and true enough, he meant every word he said as you read the notification from your bank you received later that day, telling you that sae sent you exactly how much you spent on the groceries.
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note. i may or may not have thought of this after seeing that tiktok edit of sae using kali's area codes sound. pls look away, i like my men with money (JUST KIDDING) sae has been plaguing my mind, and i'm hoping that this would alleviate the brainrot bec i can't do this anymore
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peachesofteal · 10 months
Note
Speaking about Ghost/Soap/Darling omegaverse... May I bring the idea of Soap and Ghost being alpha and Darling an omega? But wait, let me sprinkle a little of angsty thoughts about it:
Johnny and Simon get to spend their ruts together. Hell, they share a room, and even on base they get to have privacy and go through them with the help of each other, not only fulfilling their physical needs, which are sated of course, but also emotional. Yeah sure, heats are emotional but ruts are too, and they spend so much time together that almost, if not all of their ruts together have been spent in the company of each other.
But Darling? Imagine Darling having a heat every time she's alone. Simon and Johnny gone on some mission, gone for weeks and sometimes even months. Trying to satisfy herself with whatever smell is left on Simon's hoodie or Johnny's shirt. She tries to brush away the thoughts of loneliness and being left out that arise every time she rests in her nest, every time she has to painfully get through her heats without her mates' company.
Hell, she tries to hide everything every time Johnny and Simon come home, smelling like each other and fresh bite marks on their necks. She really, really tries. But nothing escapes those two, no. They can smell that little, slightly rotten smell on Darling, sensing her discomfort and those bouts of anger flaring up, those hints of desperation hiding in a slightly-rotten fruit smell. It becomes stronger and stronger each time she sees how close they are after they tell her that another rut came while they were on base, and her? At this point she might lie and say she's on suppressants. Again, they at least suspect about it.
But hell, the fact that there are always fresh bite marks on them every time they come home, while hers is is non-existent (Johnny and Simon foolishly believe she doesn't wish to be bitten), is NOT helping at all.
And they realize how drastic, how deep the problem is once their leave coincides with Darling's heat.
Except she hides. She doesn't let them in, because they maybe have never seen her on her heats.
She doesn't trust them to know how to deal with it, how to deal with an omegas' most vulnerable moment when all they've known is how alphas deal with their ruts.
Darling doesn't trust them, not fully, at least.
Djsjjd jfc when you said omegaverse I was 👁️👁️. Peach I hope you're having such a good day and I must thank you once more for giving us such beautiful stories, I hope nothing but good things happen to you from now on:)
— 🫔 Anon
Oh… okay, I see you. This is so good! There’s so much to explore here… 🩵
18+ / dead disco omegaverse au (it needs a name but we’ll get there?) / mature themes
The door swings wide, and Johnny is nearly bowled over by the scent. It’s everywhere in the flat, wafting down the hall to where they both stand at the threshold, overcome with the smell of overripe fruit, something sour and tart hovering at the precipice.
It’s the smell of their omega in distress.
But what surprises them both, is along with the burnt tannins of distress, is another smell. A ripe smell, a bruised stone fruit smell.
The smell of an omega in heat.
But their omega doesn’t have heats. You’re on suppressants.
Still, it’s definitely your scent. There’s no mistaking it.
Simon tenses, hackles rising with a growl. Johnny’s hand finds his chest, placing his palm over the older, bigger alpha’s heart soothingly. They’ve just both come off a rut, poor timing all things considered. Both exhausted, they were looking forward to getting home and falling into bed with you, cuddling you close while they both slept off the stress from the op and the remaining… sensitivities.
“Darling?” Simon calls, keeping his voice soft and easy.
There’s no answer. The flat is silent.
“Love? Are you here?” Johnny tries, pushing through to the bedroom, where he’s half expecting to see you curled up in the bed.
Except, you’re not.
It looks like you may have been, at one point. It’s a pile of blankets and pillows, haphazardly arranged with various shirts and other soft things.
Johnny chokes on a breath. The scent is much, much stronger in here, and Simon’s eyes slide closed as he draws a deep inhale.
“Omega?” He murmurs, and to their relief, there’s a small whimper from the closet.
When he gets the door open, his heart breaks. Simon’s body goes preternaturally still, and they both stare down at you.
You’re drenched in sweat, burrowed in a pile of clothes, eyes wide. You reek, panic and fear, distress and pain burning in their nostrils, along with the overripe scent, the telltale smell of a heat. Worse, when you look up at them, there’s no recognition there. Nothing to show that you know who they are to you, or even where you are. Johnny shoves away his panic over your confusion, this state, to try to coax you forward into his arms.
“Hey, there ye are.” He reaches for you, slowly, and your body presses against the corner, head shaking back and forth. Johnny frowns. “Darling, it’s okay. It’s us, you’re alright.” His hand gets closer, nearly brushing you knee, and then to their absolute shock, you snarl.
Simon is conflicted. He’s confused.
Why did you tell them you’re on suppressants?
They would have done things a lot differently, if that wasn’t the case. They wouldn’t have left you alone, if they had known. His stomach clenches when he thinks about the possibility that this isn’t the first time you’ve been on your own during a heat.
“Darling.” Simon coos. He doesn’t want to reach for you. He doesn’t want to pull you from the closet, this safe spot you’ve built, your nest. He doesn’t want to force you out, like his father would have. Like he always did to his mother. His father would have gripped you so hard it would have hurt you, left bruises on you. He would have terrified you, taken joy from it. “Omegas are weak.” Simon was raised to believe. “The lesser. It’s our job to teach ‘em.”
You snort out a trembling breath from your nose, little groan slipping from your lips and you rub your wrist on your gland. Johnny makes a strangled sound in his throat as it happens, and Simon doesn’t need to ask to know what he’s thinking.
Only omegas who have been abandoned or lost their mates try to self soothe like that, scent themselves like that. It’s an instinct, something that happens to try to prevent them from becoming overheated or harmed by a heat unmanaged.
“No, no no. It’s alright, love, we’re here.” Johnny pleads, hand still tentatively outstretched while you stare at his fingers. Every time your wrist rubs over your gland, they both cringe, and Johnny’s body goes rigid.
“I- don’t-” You stutter. You blink at them slowly, and he can see it all on your face, plain as day. The pain. The confusion. The distress.
Simon crouches, just outside the closet. He starts up a soothing rumble, trying to lure you towards him. You lift your head slowly when you hear it, when you feel the subharmonics, the song that sings to you.
“Come here, baby.” Your brow creases, and you rub your face. You look exhausted, like you haven’t slept in days and he wonders how long you’ve been you like this, how long you’ve been suffering. You don’t smell like pre heat, so you must be on the curve upwards. Guilt burns in his stomach. “It’s alright now.” Johnny moves next to him, shifting into a kneel very slowly while you watch him, hazy gaze fixed on the bite marks on his neck, over his gland.
“You’re safe.” Johnny coaxes, and he keeps his hand towards you, but unmoving, trying to show you that neither of them are a threat.
They both work to emit soothing scents, trying to lull you into their arms. You watch them warily, curiously, eyes opening and closing in slow motion as your instincts battle whatever confusion is happening beneath the surface.
It works. You crawl slowly out from the corner, t shirt sticking to your skin, your arms trembling under your weight.
“Good girl.” Simon murmurs. Neither of them move, afraid to spook you, and then you’re curling up between their bodies, rubbing your wrist against your gland over and over.
You tuck yourself into them, head laying on Simon’s chest and his hand comes slowly to rub your back, getting you used to his touch, easing you into a more relaxed state while Johnny smooths a hand over your shoulder, coasting his wrist closer and closer to your gland, trying to scent you subtly and soothe you, gentle you. You whimper when he makes contact, and they both press a little closer.
“Shhh. You’re okay, darling. We’re here.” Simon bows his head, skimming his nose overtop your scalp, and you shift, hands grabbing for Johnny, trying to pull his body overtop yours, effectively sandwiching yourself as tight as you can between their mass. You whine, and Johnny hums in your ear, soothing you by scenting until you’re letting out little rumbles of your own, soft purrs puffing against Simon’s chest, Johnny’s lips ghosting across your sweat dotted forehead.
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lexisecretaccx · 3 months
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Smile for the picture - Matt Sturniolo
(Femreader x Matt Sturniolo, Smut, semi public, Photobooth sex, p in v, slight breeding kink, male receiving, hot asf, not proofread so apologies for spelling mistakes!)
Summary: Matt and Y/n find a Photobooth and go to take photos when it takes a steamy turn and things turn sexual..
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As me and Matt walked through the quiet part of the mall, we came across an old fashioned photobooth, “let’s take photos in there!” I say excitedly, quickly dragging Matt to the Photobooth.
“Fine..” Matt sighs, and he pulls back the curtain of the Photobooth, there’s a cute little stool only big enough for one person, Matts face lights up only barely as he notices this, “I’m gonna have to sit on your lap, but that’s ok.” I smile to Matt as he sits down on the stool and I seat myself on his lap and pull the curtain shut.
I wiggle around to try get into a comfortable position to take photos, eliciting a soft groan from Matt. “You okay?” I look at him as his eyes are squeezed shut. “Yeah sorry let’s take a photo..” he breaths. I click the camera button as it snaps a photo of me and Matt, my hand holding his jaw as I pull a kiss face and he looks at me smiling for the picture.
“That’s so cute omg, we have 3 more we can take, I’m glad it lets us pick when to take it instead of taking so many in a row.” I ramble on as I lean forward to take a look at the screen.
I feel matts hands snaking their way up and down my sides until he rests them on my hips, gripping slightly. “Mhm, whatever you say baby.” He spoke, barely listening to what I was saying. “Are you paying attention to what I’m saying?” I ask him and give him a slight smirk but his eyebrows remain slightly lifted in the corners as he bites his lip softly.
“Are you turned on right now?” I lower my voice and speak in a surprised tone. “Fuck.. you gotta stop wriggling on my lap y/n it’s really fucking with me.” He whispers in my ear. I smile to myself, also having a slightly warm feeling between my thighs.
“What if we like.. fucked in here?” I whispered as I turned myself around on his lap to face him. His eyes widened as he looked between my eyes and my lips, “what really? we’re in public baby, you don’t like that stuff.” He brushes a strand of hair behind my ear, “Well I wanna try new things with you Matt, also it’s not that public, there’s like 20 people who come down this part daily.” I kiss his lips softly.
“You’re my beautiful girl,” Matt whispers before kissing just below my ear and sucking on the sweet spot, causing me to let out a soft moan and my wetness grows. “I love your pretty sounds baby.” He kisses down my neck until he’s at my collar bones, “did you wear this little dress just for this hm?” He spoke against my skin as he moved the strap of the dress slightly with his long fingers.
“I wore it for you, I know how much you love fucking me in it.” I whisper into his ears as I grip onto his shoulder with one hand and use the other to prod at the heat growing between my legs, trying to get at least some friction. “Fuck you’re a good girl.” He grabs the hand that I was using to touch my heat and flips me around so im now facing away from him.
“Stand up for me,” He smirks as I do as he says and he pulls his sweatpants and boxers down in one swift motion, revealing his long member springing up to his stomach. He pumps it a few times, throwing his head back as he does so, “can you..” he hints for me to give him a blowjob, as if asking me to suck his dick is rude or something.
“Yeah of course babe, I don’t have a hair tie or anything tho..” I say looking to my wrists for where I usually keep my hair ties.
“I’ll hold your hair for you,” he adjusts himself to be at a comfortable position for both me and him. I get down onto my knees and wrap my hand around his dick, “fuck your hands are cold.” He breaths out as he grabs my hair into a makeshift ponytail.
I plant small kisses on his tip as to tease him before taking it into my mouth and slowly taking it further before it hits the back of my throat, I start to suck faster and I look up at Matt through my lashes as he’s struggling to look at me because his eyes keep closing due to pleasure.
I place one hand on the stool he’s sat on and the other one on his thigh for stability, I feel his cock twitch inside of my mouth as his tip kisses the back of my throat and tears brew in my eyes from trying not to gag.
“Fuck I’m close..” he whispers in between soft whimpers and groans. I hum around him causing him to twitch even more before his grip on my hair tightens and he pushes my head down softly, causing me to gag.
That must’ve been the thing that tipped him over the edge because not long after he breathily said “I’m cumming baby..” and he released his hot white liquid down my throat, I removed my mouth from his member with a slight pop and I swallowed the last bits of cum in my mouth.
Matt say there breathing heavily as I quickly remembered we had 3 photos left so I clicked the photo button and got a picture of his worn out expression and the back of my head cropped off the bottom of the photo. Matts eyes widened when he realised that I had caught that on the camera and he lifted me up by under my arms quickly causing me to squeal softly.
He span me around to face the camera and pulled down my panties, before softly rubbing his finger around my arousal leaking out of my heat and licking his finger. “I’m gonna get a photo of you with my dick inside of you okay baby?” He lifted my dress slightly before pulling me down onto his cock, I let out a light moan as I sink onto his length, not being able to take it all fully inside of me. “Atta girl.”
He grips my hips tightly and bounces me up and down on him as I begin to moan loudly, one of his hands comes around to cover my mouth “as much as I love your noises baby, you need to keep it down..” Matt hushes me before placing his hand around my neck but not choking me.
As he continues to fuck up into me I feel my eyes rolling to the back of my head and matt lets out hard groans as I grip onto the wall in front of me and to the side of me for stability.
I feel myself clenching around him as his pace quickens and soft moans leave my lips, I start to feel my legs shaking slightly as the knot in my stomach is begging to be released, Matt kisses my shoulders softly whilst I bounce on his large member. “I know you’re close baby, release for me..” he says between moans.
I let myself go with a loud moan that I try to stifle by biting my lip but I fail miserably, I feel my body go limp and arousal dripping around his cock as Matt helps me through my orgasm, just as I’m at the peak of my pleasure, matt whispers into my ear “smile for the picture baby..” and I hear the Photobooth camera snap. I turn my head around to face Matt as he’s still slowly fucking into me,
His forehead sweaty and his hair messed up, with a grin plastered across his face, quickly interrupted by his orgasm reaching closer, “fuck I’m gonna cum again..” he whimpers slightly as his eyebrows knit together.
“I’m gonna fuck my kids up into you baby, okay?” He asks but I know he’s gonna do it anyway, I nod limply as I feel his hot cum shooting inside of me and Matt whines loudly, before leaning forward and taking another picture of us both fucked out and his head laying against my shoulder, kissing my collarbone softly, his dick still inside my walls.
“How many should we print?” I speak breathily, before slowly lifting myself off of his cock and holding on to the wall to keep myself steady as my legs are still slightly numb. “Print 4.. in case we lose a copy..” Matt says quietly, leaning his head back against the wall.
“Okay baby.” I pull my panties up from around my ankles and Matt stands up before pulling his sweatpants and boxers back up again. I print the photos and I hear them pop out from outside the curtain. I fix my hair and Matt fixes his as we open the curtain and stumble out, not really hiding what we were just doing in there.
I grab the photos and laugh softly when I see our faces, I hand all of the strips to Matt and he puts them in his pocket to keep safe. A middle aged woman walks past with her husband and she looks us up and down before her facial expression changes to that of disgust and she rolls her eyes, her husband oblivious.
I mean it is a sight, two young people stumbling out of a Photobooth with their clothes slightly messed up as one of them clings on to the other to stop her legs from giving out.
Matt wraps his arm around my waist to support me and we walk out of the mall.
“That was fun..” Matt smirks to me, “It was but it was so risky, and did you see the way that lady judged us?” I reply. “She’s just jealous her husband probably needs a pill to get turned on.” Matt laughs snarkily. I hit his chest lightly “you can’t say that Matt.” I laugh softly before kissing him on the cheek.
“I’m taking a picture of these strips and I’m setting it as my background.” Matt smiles while pulling two of the strips of photos out of his pocket and handing one to me so we can both hold one in the picture.
“I can’t believe you actually set that as your background, especially on your lock screen, what if Nick or Chris sees it?”
“I don’t care, plus they wouldn’t pay attention to what the photos actually are.”
—💋——📷——‼️——💌———❤️———💌——‼️——📷——💋—
A/n: Omg I love this, public sex is kinda hot honestly. Also idk why I love the idea of them taking the photographs during.. yk. Like it’s kinda hot also. I love doing one shots so please feel free to recommend something in my inbox, whether it be smut, fluff, or whatever! I love you all and thank you for getting over 800 notes on dont hold back❤️💋
Taglist: @kvtie444 @blahbel668 @mattsleftnipple03 @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hysteria-things @sturniologurl4l2008 @jakevwebber @braindead4l @mattybearnard
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mariasont · 2 months
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The Receptionist - S.R
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a/n: i need this man on an astronomical level actually
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
pairings: spencer reid x receptionist!bimbo!reader
summary: spencer meets the new receptionist for chief cruz
warnings: fluff
wc: 0.8k
The click-clack of your polished nails on the keys mingled with the sharp pops of bubblegum as you focused on lining up Chief Cruz's appointments in the system. Taking a pause, you pulled out your notebook encased in pink frills from your drawer, and delicately turned its pages to reveal the week's agenda.
With the appointment freshly noted, you let your pen waltz around the margins, leaving behind a trail of doodles. With a subtle shift, you crossed your legs, the shiny pink heels tapping together, their color complementing the delicate fabric of your skirt.
You traced another heart around the date, and just then, a soft voice hesitantly broke the silence, "Excuse me?"
You looked up to find a pair of curious hazel eyes framed by brown curls that almost seemed to be begging to be touched, and his lips, which held a shy smile made your heart do a summersault. I mean, come on, what are these FBI guys made lab-grown or something?
He was draped in a form-fitting vets over a neatly pressed shirt, his sleeves were rolled up just so, in a way that paused your movements freeze and coaxed a heat to spread across your cheeks. Well, hello there.
He seemed briefly caught off-guard, his eyes flickering over your pink-themed workspace, a distinct departure from the former receptionist's subdued setup. He was almost overwhelmed by the sheer amount of things that now occupied the space.
With an enthusiastic bounce, you popped up from your seat, beaming brightly.
"Oh, hi there! How can I help you?" Gently straightening your skirt, you offered a hand, your name rolling off your tongue, "Are you here for Chief Cruz?"
The man's touch was soft against your palm, his attention caught by the soft clinking of your delicate bracelets, while your nails, painted a meticulous shade of pink that matched the color of your shirt, settled against the back of his hand.
"Spencer Reid," he introduced. "I have an appointment with Chief Cruz regarding a specialized training session for new recruits."
His gaze held yours a tad too long, cataloging the details of your appearance--the brightness of your eyes, the soft curve of your lips, the radiant glow of your skin.
A look of pleasant surprise crossed your face.
"You're the famous Dr. Reid! I've heard a lot about you," you remarked, a giggle accompanying your words as you eased back into your seat, giving a quick, knowing glance at your calendar. "Ah, here you are. I'll let Chief Cruz know you're here. He's currently in a meeting, but it shouldn't be too much longer."
As you pretended to focus on the screen, your mind raced. Dr. Reid--the genius with multiple PhDs, and now, the man who stood before you, unexpectedly  drop-dead handsome.
It was a challenge to maintain professionalism, especially when every fiber of your being yearned to do nothing but drink in his appearance. I mean, you were only human.
"Just Spencer is fine," he offered with an easy smile. "Where's Mrs. Henderson?"
You were beautiful to say the least, not at all what he was expecting to see when he walked in this morning, quite the difference from the former receptionist, whose age had been marked by the hard candies she offered.
"Oh, she retired last month!" you said with a bright smile. "So now, Chief Cruz is stuck with me!" Leaning in, chin cradled by your hands, you gaze at him incredulously. "Three PhDs, huh? That's, like, beyond Einstein-level smarts, isn't it?"
Spencer's cheeks tinged with a hint of color as he reached up to scratch the back of his neck.
"Well, not quite," he admitted with a modest shrug. He then glanced around the office before his eyes settled back on you. "How are you finding the job here so far?"
"Impressive, yet so modest," you commented. Standing up, you clicked print on the computer. "And it's great, I really love it here. I mean, it's not as thrilling as chasing down bad guys, I'm sure, but I think I'll stick to what I'm good at."
As you made your way to the printer, Spencer interjected. "No, I got it."
He returned with the papers, handing them to you with a gentle smile. 
"Thanks," you said, taking the papers. "So, you do that profiling thing right?" You tapped a finger against your lips, pretending to ponder. "Let's see... I'm guessing you're a Libra, aren't you? Probably born in early October, I'd say."
"What gave it away?"
You flashed a wink, the pop of your bubblegum punctuating the air. "I may have taken a sneak peek at your file."
With a light-hearted laugh, Spencer revealed a smile so grand it seemed to light up the entire space and you couldn't help but smile in response. You liked his smile, a lot. 
Spencer's response was cut short by the ring of the phone. You quickly answered as the great receptionist you are.
"Okie dokie, sir, I'll send him right back!" You listened for a second, then replied with a giggle. "No, thank you, sir!" You turned to Spencer, your smile wide, "He's ready for you!"
"Thanks," Spencer said with a nod, "It was great to meet you." He took a few steps towards Chief Cruz's office before pausing and turning back. "You know, maybe I should give you my number. For work purposes, in case you have questions or need help with anything."
You nodded eagerly, your smile reaching from ear to ear. "Absolutely, for work purposes."
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princesssmars · 9 months
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thinking of karlach who once her engine cools off goes fucking ballistic. nsfw, fem! reader, me being horny for karlach because who isn't. baldur's gate 3 spoilers! i've only finished act one so i start improvising shit.
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now, for a woman who has not been able to have even a hint of physical contact for ten years, you have to give her her flowers with how well she seems to deal with being incredibly emotionally and sexually frustrated.
but once she joins your party that hold she had over her body and brain starts to crack. fast.
hell, it started happening before the two of you became romantically involved. while she was drawn to you from the moment you said "yes" to helping a stranger kill a building full of people, she also had eyes and constantly wondered how everyone in the party was so attractive. astarion was never not flirting with someone, wyll was incredibly kind to her, and she could tell when shadowheart was admiring her physique...
but after a few weeks of traveling, fighting, and making friends for the first time in years, eventually during those quiet nights at camp she finds you invading her mind her mind when she rests in her tent to fall asleep, kind of like the parasite, but in a good way.
she thinks of a joke you you made when the two of you were eating by the fire that made her snort like a pig, the way you explored a dungeon and when you found a magical war axe immediately turned to her and gave it to her with a smile, how you so quickly stood up for her when wyll was adamant on killing her because of her past.
your kindness, your intelligence (she's amused when you act like a dumbass and fail when trying to persuade someone), just everything about you, it was only a matter of time before she asked you to join her when everyone fell asleep one night, talking about how you thankfully return her feelings. it takes a turn when you bring up how her condition leaves her pent up, and as you're whispering the sinful things you cant wait to do to her and she do to you.
it hits her full force that oh, she does actually want to fuck your brains out.
after that night everything you do starts to turn her on. like, horrendously. eating a snack on the road? all she can focus on is the way your lips move around the fruit. dancing to a song volo is playing? she's becoming entranced by the way your hips and arms move to the music.
once when the sun was set and the moon was high she headed down to the lake, figuring the rest of the party had already cleaned themselves when she started to undress on the sand, standing still as a statue when she spots you in the middle of the lake, rinsing out your hair when you turn around to look at her.
she can see the water falling from your hair to your shoulders, dripping down over the peak of your nipples, some falling down your chest to between yours legs-
when she comes back later after running off, the ground where she stood was scorched.
but until her engine got fixed, her nights were spent inside her tent rubbing at her clit and fingering her cunt while pretending it was you. the only thing that makes it better is when she can tell you about all the naughty things she thinks about you and seeing you squirm.
once dammon gets another piece of infernal iron and gives her the final upgrade she needs to have physical contact, she at least has the courtesy to take you to a rented room in an inn before she ravages you.
shes tossing you on to the bed and wondering if she should slow down, take it slow with you for your first time together to make it all the more special, but you're staring at her while she's contemplating and youre taking off your top and then youre pants and then youre pulling her by the arm on top of you and she realizes she can save the softness for later.
there's so much kissing, pulling, biting and moaning that after both of your first two orgasms she starts to feel dizzy. she swears shes never felt a greater pleasure than when you were cumming on her fingers, or when you brought her hips up to your face and made her ride your tongue.
she reaches down to your bag that was throw haphazardly on to the floor earlier and finds the toy you bought, the tiefling smiling so brightly her fangs are on full display as she aligns the double sided dildo with your entrance, nearly going cross eyed at the way it slips inside of you before she sticks the other end into her.
she throws your legs over her shoulders, hold your hands in hers, and starts thrusting so quickly its almost like she's afraid she'll die if she stops.
and she is. she has never felt as good as she does in this moment, fucking the toy into you before feeling it do the same to her every time she pulls her hips back.
shes thinking about how much she loves you when she feels your right hand claw at her back.
shes wondering how someone can be so damn beautiful when you arch your back and nearly scream out her name.
she can barely contain herself when she thinks about how she gets to fuck you like this for the rest of her life when her hand leaves yours and grabs onto the wooden bedpost.
your moans of ecstasy reach a pitch and her eyes are taking in every detail as you come undone, to the heaving of your chest and the fluttering of your lashes. its your gentle whisper of her name and a gentle kiss to her lips that tips her over the edge, grinding her hips faster to the point it starts to hurt and she feels her hands tightening and tightening-
her high feels like it lasts forever before she comes back down to earth, breathing heavy with a dopey smile on her face when she looks at you. she's confused by the look on your face, similarly blissed out but your cheeks are bunched up in that way that means youre trying to hold in a laugh...
its only then she starts to feel it : a large chunk of the headboard is in her hand, snapped almost clean off from the rest of in im the height of her euphoria. she cant help but laugh which makes you finally laugh which just makes you laugh harder.
she drops the wood and shakes her hand of any splinters when your hands are wrapping around her neck and pulling her back into you.
she doesn't feel that bad about it.
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i've resorted to getting ideas from both dreams and those thoughts you turn into stories while trying to go to sleep im like a genius. i put this in the queue posted it and it only showed up on my blog whats with that.
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steddieas-shegoes · 4 months
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no more waiting
for @steddielovemonth day four prompt ‘love is being willing to wait for them’
a fix-it for these: steve pov | eddie pov  
rated m | 1,094 words | cw: post breakup, implied sexual content | tags: getting back together, angst with a happy ending, mutual pining
🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶
Steve should’ve called him Tuesday when the news broke.
And then he should’ve called him Wednesday when he ran into Wayne at the store and he said Eddie was coming home for a bit.
By the time Thursday afternoon came around, he didn’t need to call him. He was standing at Steve’s front door.
“Eddie.”
“Steve.”
It was stilted, more awkward than they’d ever been, even when they “broke up.”
“You just get into town?” Steve asked as if he didn’t know.
“Yeah,” Eddie answered as if he didn’t already find out that Wayne had told Steve his exact travel plans.
“You wanna come in?” Steve asked like he’d die if Eddie said no.
“Yeah, please.” Eddie replied, just short of begging.
Eddie knew where to go, knew how to act like this was his home just like he had for nearly a year before leaving. Before Steve insisted he leave.
He settled on the couch, leaving room for Steve to sit close, but not touching.
Touching would be too much, too painful.
“You saw?” He finally asked, picking at the hole in his jeans.
“Yeah.” Steve reached over to pull Eddie’s fingers away from the string hanging off his pants. He didn’t let go as he spoke. “I’m proud of you.”
Eddie’s eyes bounced between his own, searching for the hint of a lie, jealousy, anything that might give him an excuse to stay away. But as he expected, as he hoped, none of that was in Steve’s eyes.
“It doesn’t mean shit to me,” Eddie admitted.
Steve’s brows furrowed in confusion, his body tensing at the unexpected hostility in Eddie’s tone.
“None of it means a fucking thing to me without you.”
“Eds-“
“I know what we said, I know. But I can’t do it anymore. The first person I wanted to call was you. The first thing I wanted to do was fuck you into the mattress of my bunk on the bus. There’s no world where I can be a rock star without you standing there with me.” Eddie looked down at their joined hands. “I don’t care what it means for me. I don’t care what it means for the band. I don’t care if I have to give it all up tomorrow. I just want you.”
"I won't let you give it up, not now. You finally made it, Eds," Steve pulled one hand away to wipe at his eyes, equal parts happy to hear that Eddie still wanted him and sad that he couldn't have him. "I can't let you live to regret me. I couldn't wake up one day knowing that you blame me for keeping you back."
"Then come with me! Don't keep me back!" Eddie was crying as much as Steve, eyes red like he'd already been crying before he got to Steve's house. "You're keeping yourself back. What are you gonna do when the kids go? They don't wanna stay here, so they'll spread out and you'll still be here. You'll have wasted years being here for them. What about being there for you? What about letting them be there for each other and calling them up once in a while like I do? Like Robin and Nancy do? You don't owe anyone here anything, especially not if it costs you your happiness."
Steve had heard it all before from everyone, even Dustin, even Hopper, but it never really sunk in. It wasn't really now, either, but he was at least trying to think through it.
It made sense, but it always had made sense. It's just that what made the most sense was being here for the people who needed him.
"Do you really think those kids would be upset if you tried to be happy? Do you think they would rather you stay here and be miserable?"
"No." That answer was easy. The kids would never want him to be miserable. Nobody in their group would.
"Then be happy, Stevie. Be happy with me. I'd do anything to keep you happy," Eddie begged, lifting his hands to kiss his knuckles. "I want you to do this with me. I wanna sing to you every night, sweetheart."
"What if you get tired of singing to me every night?"
Eddie shook his head, smiling fondly at the man in front of him. "I can't imagine a life where I'd ever get tired of seeing the way your cheeks turn pink and you get that goofy smile on your face when I look at you from the stage. But if it did, then you can come right back here or go to Robin or anyone, because everyone loves you and wants the best for you."
Steve knew that, always had known that deep down.
"So the guys are just cool with me tagging along?"
"The guys will be thrilled to not have me pouting 22 hours of the day. They'll welcome you with open arms."
Now was when they could seal it with a kiss, maybe even let themselves get carried away, strip off their clothes, hurry through months of yearning in a few minutes. They could take it to the bedroom, or the shower, or the floor if they wanted to risk a sore back. They could leave marks that would take days to fade, and laugh about the way Eddie always, always makes the same whimpering noise when he gets inside Steve. They could, but they don't.
Steve leans his head against Eddie's shoulder and Eddie cups the back of his head, lets his fingers twist in his hair. They both let out a sob, recognition of how much they missed each other, how stupid they were for thinking being apart was better for either of them, finally sinking in.
"I'm sorry." Steve breathed against Eddie's neck, shaky and unsure.
"I'm sorry, too."
They stayed curled up on the couch together for hours, until Dustin showed up yelling about Steve not answering his phone. They hadn't even heard it ring, so wrapped up in their own bubble.
Eddie shooed him away, told him they'd be by to see him later, and surprisingly, Dustin left.
Only then did they manage to get up and go to Steve's bedroom, undressing as they went, lips never far from skin, as they got reacquainted with the taste and feel of each other.
Later ended up being the next morning, but luckily, Dustin didn't say a damn word when they both showed up at his door holding hands and beaming more at each other than at him.
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bigfatbimbo · 10 days
Note
Can you do more perv vox please 🥺
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a/n — watch me drop by SEVEN IN PROGRESS DRAFTS to do this one off handed request. Oh, writers block, where do I even start.
warnings — dom reader, gm reader, sub vox, incredibly pervy and toxic vox, no it doesn’t get healthier in fact it gets worse
summary — Vox and his perverted actions, practically stalkerish behavior and thoughts when infatuated with the reader, and where he ends up because of them.
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☆ Perv!Vox definitely watches you on his cameras.
his obsession has gotten so bad that he doesn’t even watch porn to jack off, he watches you.
Anything you’re doing, he fixates on your motions, and studies your every move, all while jerking off like the pathetic loser he is.
Definitely has screenshots from moments of you he really likes, and yes, he will touch himself to them.
Sneaks cameras into your house too, just to be sure.
Image is everything to him, so he manages to keep this secret from everyone else and you very well, when he wants too.
When he’s particularly looking for your attention, he might leave reminisce of the scene out for your view, lotion, a picture of you, etc.
However, only when he can perfectly calculate you finding it, and in a way that doesn’t show the full extent of his creepiness.
god forbid you walk in on him while doing it, but he would probably never let that happen.
☆ Perv!Vox would be very weird about your clothes.
Let’s start off with the least creepy bit, he would absolutely steal your shirts.
And if you lend him one, he doesn’t give it back.
Haha… that’s so weird, actually asking for it back just always kinda slips your mind, coincidentally!
To say he keeps it in good condition wouldn’t be a lie necessarily, at first.
Since you, once again coincidentally, keep forgetting to ask for your things back, he might as well put your shirt to good use.
Who would want such a waste? Hell, Vox would be a worse man for not doing anything with the shirt.
Smelling it while pleasuring himself, or actually just watching you.
Putting on a pillow to hump, so he can imagine you’re there, and that he’s fucking into you ruthlessly.
He would have delusions of dominating your helpless perfect body, as he’s wanted to while watching your beautifully sculpted features on camera, and now with your shirt below him.
He finds he only can really get into the motion if the pillow is wearing your clothes.
Because then, he finds himself bucking uselessly against the fabric, and fuck, getting your shirt all messy!
It’s alright, he can always just get a new one, I mean, who is Vox if not persuasive?
☆ Perv!Vox who desperately denies it when confronted.
Even when caught, he goes back on himself so much, seeming so utterly disgusted at the mention of his actions you almost believe him.
He’s not ashamed, or remorseful, but he is terribly humiliated by the fact he was actually caught.
Hadn’t he been so careful? Only letting you see the side he wanted you to, while keeping such good track of every part of you?
At first, he’s afraid you’d try to leave and cause him to take further actions, that he didn’t want to do.
But you wouldn’t, right? See, something like this getting out… that’s so bad for business!
All press is good press but.. that was more of Val’s motto than his, and his delicate facade had been so famously perfect.
It’s almost sad how he begs on his knees, hints of anger dissolving into anguish, and then into desperation.
You wouldn’t tell anyone, you couldn’t tell anyone, please, he’d do anything, he’d—
fallen right into your trap.
Since he’d do anything, don’t you think you were letting him off easily, by simply stating:
Such a long time of terrible behavior deserves an even longer lasting punishment.
This wasn’t going as planned, he always dreamed of being in charge, but he finds the shame he feels mixing with a nerdiness he only feels around you.
Each night you greet him with a new piece of evidence in his behavior, the camera found in your bathroom flung out on his table, your stolen vibrator you found in his desk, and a few shirts you don’t even remember loosing.
Oh, he doesn’t want this leaked to the press, so he’d better be a good boy and get on his knees.
He begs for forgiveness like a whore at the hands of god, but really, what was the difference?
The panic in his eyes when he realized you remembered to wear sunglasses, and how serious you were with your threats.
But he gets off from that too, the humiliation of it all.
I guess he hadn’t learned his lesson.
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ken-jaku · 4 months
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explicit sexual content; gn!reader gives rafayel a handjob! and... cum eating🙁, hint of dubcon near the end? this is just me thinking thoughts.
it's the way i held a grudge with rafayel cause he walked away from mc mid-convo AND ALMOST LEFT HA TO DIE... he's rlly cute tho- especially during nightly stroll. this switch up feels like one of those enemies to lovers books where the girl gets brutally bullied by the male lead only for him to be forgiven💀 like girl- he ran you over with his car!
you're not really sure how it started. everything was a blur as you sat on your heels in between your friend's legs, watching his bodily reactions meticulously as you jerked him off while he rested his red face in the crook of your neck, the two of you alone in the back of his art museum.
you were a bodyguard. your job was to assist him at all times- wherever, whenever. this so happened to be another task he subtly yet jokingly tried to put you up to. he didn't think you'd actually do it. your fingers ran up and down his cock with the occasional swipe of your thumb on his leaky tip, listening to the murmurs and shudder of his breath as he got closer to his impending orgasm.
soon enough, you feel his dick twitch in your hands as he shudders, shooting his cum into your hands and on his abdomen with whiny, low moans following.
when he finally opens his eyes, a bit too shy to look at you, the feeling of your wet tongue on his stomach makes him shiver, "wait, what are you doing?" his tone was rushed- almost panicky as you placed your hand on his thighs.
"cleaning up, silly." you smile, poking at his thigh making him squirm as you face lowers again- this time you take him in your mouth, sucking and licking at his cum-coated tip. a heavy moan leaves rafayel's mouth, one he finds himself trying to muffled a bit too late. you smile.
"fuck- it's... you can stop now." you pout, dick muffling your words and sending vibrations throughout his dick, "but 'm not done." you look up, licking the remnants of cum from your hand before diving back down between his legs.
"hmm-fuck, no... no, i really think you should stop now. it-it's too much, shit." you shake your head, nails now gently scratching at his thighs as you continue 'cleaning him off'.
"wait, don't do that! your nail- oh, god!" rafayel tries to get another word out but it's too late. more and more cum spurts from out of him and into your mouth. the feeling of it hitting the back of your throat had you choking, the taste was a bit too salty and bitter for your liking, but you enjoyed it. mumbled apologies leave rafayel as he basks in the aftershock, his neck and face now flushed.
"huh... i did not think your thighs would be so sensitive." you look at his quivering thighs before making eye contact with the painter. silence follows, with the exception of his heavy breathing. rafayel, at a loss for words, can only stare at you as he slumps on the bench, his hands barely holding him up even as his palms dig into the wooden seat.
"so! how much are you paying me again, or, at the very least, what am i gonna get in return?"
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