#just in case left is before and right is after
Text
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 ->
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.
Taglist:
@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx
@protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai
@redwites @kattiieee @141trash @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg
@beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff
@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
#call of duty#call of duty fic#task force 141 x reader#poly task force 141#john price x reader#captain price x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#gaz x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#x reader#alpha/beta/omega#a/b/o#omegaverse
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
having a crush on you
summary: how they would act having a crush on you
type of post: headcanons
characters: pomefiore (vil, rook, epel)
additional info: reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, rook is rook, not proofread, hi I'm insane and I love pining, I NEED to write another fic but with rook. might write this same prompt with other dorms
𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭
don't take his calm and collected facade as apathy
he's slowly losing his mind about this
"pacing back and forth, mumbling to himself, falling asleep thinking about you" kind of losing his mind
it's my personal belief that Vil hasn't been in love before this
hasn't even really thought about it
so when you enter the picture it kinda throws him off balance
and with the exception of Rook, no one can even tell
he is an actor, after all, he can play the part of "totally platonic friends with room for Jesus"
(maybe a little too well)
but Vil isn't entirely emotionally repressed
he keeps things to himself, yes, but he's quite conscious of his own wants and needs
so when he realizes he's been craving your presence more than usual he does acknowledge it
in his head
and then does nothing about it for months
...what? he's busy
things like this can wait for him, and he doesn't want to put a rift between you two in case it might be a passing feeling
well... it doesn't pass
he becomes keenly aware of how much he wants you around him, how much he thinks about you, how much your very presence is enough to make him happier than he's ever... really felt
and you know what?
he is totally cool about it.
just kidding. he drives himself insane trying to think of the perfect way to confess, something that will impress you and meet his standards
he's dropping hints left and right and you don't seem to be picking any of them up
which again, just makes him crazy
(some days he really wants to ask you how oblivious one person can be, but he restrains himself)
I mean, how many times can he send you red tulips before you finally get the hint? he's practically spelling it out for you!
there is... a tiny, little part of him that worries you don't reciprocate
is he not your type? are you interested in someone else? perhaps he'd been too harsh on you, after all...
the fact that one little potato can make him so worried absolutely drives him mad
he is the vision of poise and grace and you are ruining him
and this sort of mood comes and goes in waves
just when he thinks he's pulled himself back together, you'll smile at him or say something cute and suddenly he's back to square one
(you're so adorable it's annoying -_-)
while he's sorting out a good way to express his feelings properly, he'll be spending all his free time with you
you need some new things? he'll be glad to take you shopping
you came over to see Epel? oh, well, he's not here, but you should stay for some tea, anyway!
your afternoon is free? he has some new lip gloss he's been dying to test out...
𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭
contrary to popular belief, I don't think Rook would be so open about it
he still compliments you, of course, and sings praises of your beauty and elegance, and has little regard for personal space, as always
but he's like that with a lot of people, so it's hard to really tell when he likes someone
the truth of the matter is that Rook Hunt can be just as reserved with his feelings as anyone else
when he really, really likes someone, he keeps it to himself
why?
he's hunting you he's learning more about you before making his true feelings known
he feels it's necessary to have an adequate amount of information on his target before making a move, after all
for reference: you catch his eye at orientation, and do not have a single conversation with him until after winter break
(of course, after that, you start mysteriously running into him everywhere)
is he kinda weird about it? uh. yeah.
this is Rook we're talking about
on the other hand, he's completely lovesick about you and it's almost cute
he's definitely the type to write your initials in a journal with a glitter pen while kicking his feet back and forth and giggling
seeing if you would sound better with his last name or he with yours...
definitely has a very weird photo collection of you somewhere in his room
along with stacks of poems, pressed flowers, and little gifts he intends to give you once he's won you over
(when, not if. Rook is nothing if not patient)
you may find a rose left outside Ramshackle every so often
or a few cans of tuna for Grim
all while acting like the same old eccentric Rook, no discernable difference
except when you can feel his eyes on you at random places in the middle of the day
Ace and Deuce call you paranoid but you can't shake the feeling
though, every once in a while he'll get a little grumpy
Rook is easily jealous, and while that sort of possessiveness never extended to untouchable idols like Vil and Neige, he's already decided that you're his prey
and he'd kindly ask everyone else to find their own, thank you
he hasn't exactly planned the confession yet, but just know it's probably going to be the sweetest and craziest you've ever heard
𝐄𝐩𝐞𝐥 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐫
first of all he's going to fight you for making him like you so much
second of all he's going to beg for a chance
maybe not in that exact order
Epel is constantly at war with his own emotions and having romance thrown in the mix is. uh. not optimal
not only does it ruin the stoic, strong male persona he's been trying to build, but it's also making him feel all soft and gushy
suddenly he cares about looking nice
(much to Vil's approval)
and now he wants to do nice things for you?
he's gonna bite you
how dare you make him think about kissing and holding hands!
don't you know he's supposed to be above all this romantic stuff? what is he, Rook?!
then, after his initial temper tantrum, he starts coping. hard.
he might be able to stomach the idea of being an item if he gets to wear the pants in the relationship
...yeah, right? right.
if you let him be the man, if you let him protect you...
he might be okay with it!
obviously he starts trying to show off his manly strength (seriously) every time he sees you
starts making comments about how tough practice was on him
will literally never let anyone else carry anything for you ever again
he even provides for you (in payments of apple juice)
obviously this backfires 'cause the second you do something that gives him butterflies he's back to giggling
(you'll have to ease him into the idea of being soft and romantic together, but he'll get there)
but, to his credit, he'd be the first out of all the above to confess
super suddenly and out of nowhere (and he ends up shouting it cause he didn't want to sound chicken) but it's sweet in its own way
#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#vil schoenheit x reader#rook hunt x reader#epel felmier x reader#queued
344 notes
·
View notes
Note
can you please write jealousy joe??? I would love to see that 😁😁
Pairing: Joe x fem first person
Words: 2,020
Notes: I’m loving these requests, please keep sending them in! I hope you enjoy!! <3
Taglist: @wickedfun9
I reached forwards and grabbed the alcoholic drink I’ve been sipping on periodically while laughing and having a great time with some friends. Like every night after the Bengals first win of the season, Joe, my best friend and her husband, and me all go to our favorite bar in Cincinnati to celebrate the win, and today wasn’t any different.
The bengals first game of the season which was a home game was pretty much a shutout. Joe threw for over 400 yards and threw for 4 touchdowns, 3 of which were to ja’marr chase. It was everything we could’ve hoped for the first game of the season, so in celebration, we all came to this bar in the quieter part of Cincinnati.
We all sat at a small table in the back together while Joes hand rested on my thigh, squeezing and trailing his hand up and down it periodically, which sent shivers down my spine. As I sipped my drink, I got to the very end of it and then set it down on the table. “Alright, I’m going for another drink run. Anyone need anything else?” I asked the 3 other people at the table who were still laughing at something Joe said a few seconds ago.
From next to me, Joe patted my thigh. I looked over to him with a flustered smile on my face, the alcohol somewhat taking an effect. Damn, I was a lightweight. “I’m good, baby, but thank you.” Joe said and leaned over to me and placed a kiss on my cheek. My face flushed red and I looked over to my best friend, Serena, and her husband jonny. I let out a little giggle as Joe slid his hand up my skirt jokingly, knowing how it affected me. Once I contained myself, I cleared my throat and waited until they both said they could use another drink before I walked away.
As I walked away, I could feel Joe’s stare on me the entire time. Ever since we first met at LSU when he transferred, I was totally taken aback by him. The first thing that drew me in were his looks. Those locks that fell onto his forehead and those bright blue eyes. His body wasn’t bad either. What made me stay was his personality. Before I met Joe, I didn’t know a man could be so amazing, inside and out. I mean we’re talking about a nerdy, Lego and SpongeBob loving, funny, kind, thoughtful man. What more could a girl ask for?
When I got to the bar, I found a place to squeeze myself in and placed myself between two people. After a few seconds, the bartender walked over to me so I put in all of our drink orders and started to sing along to the music quietly, wanting the time to pass quicker. “Oh my gosh…is that really you?” A familiar voice asked from next to me. I raised an eyebrow and looked over to the man before my mouth practically dropped open. “Luke? What the hell are you doing here?” I asked in a shocked tone and instantly wrapped my arms around him. The both of us just laughed, shocked to see one another.
Back at LSU, Luke and I used to hang out pretty frequently. It was never anything more than two friends getting together, getting high, or getting drunk-even studying in some rare cases. Our little friend group consisted of me, Luke, anna who was Luke’s girlfriend, and Serena, my best friend. But, since Luke was 2 years older than me, by the time Joe came along Luke had graduated, which means I never got to introduce Joe to him and the friend group kind of broke up and became Serena, me, Joe, Ja’marr chase, and Justin Jefferson.
“Since Anna grew up here, we decided to move back. What are you doing here?” He asked me as we pulled away. “I followed my boyfriend here after college. When I get my drinks you’ll have to come meet him, he transferred right after you left.” I told him. After hesitating for a few seconds, he nodded and flashed me a smile. “Yeah, I definitely will have to meet him. So how have you been? How’s your writing going?” He asked me. “I’m good, writings been good too. I actually published my second book a few weeks ago. What about you? How has your business major been going?” I asked him with laugh, knowing back in college he had no idea what to do with it. “I actually didn’t do anything with it. I’m a police officer how. I love that I found out what I was passionate about after I spent thousands of dollars on college.” He laughed. I laughed and grabbed the drinks the bartender set down in front of me as was about to invite Luke over to our table so Joe could meet him.
All of a sudden, I felt a hand slide around my waist and looked to the side to see Joe practically hovering over me and Luke, who was shorter than me. I couldn’t help but notice the angry expression on Joe’s face and how he was clenching his jaw. I was about to open my mouth to introduce them but Joe spoke right over me. “Hey, I’m Joe, Her boyfriend. And you are?” Joe said abruptly, giving Luke a fake smile in the process. I looked up to Joe with a glare on my face at his rudeness and was about to say something yet again when Luke talked first. “Hey, Luke. It’s good to meet you, man.” Luke said and held out his hand for Joe to shake it.
Joe just glared down at his hand and then looked right back up at his face, not shaking his hand. “Excuse us, Luke. It was great seeing you again.” I said. I flashed Luke a smile before grabbing onto Joe’s arm and tried to pull him with me, but he wouldn’t budge. Why did he have to be so strong? I could feel his arm muscles as I gripped onto his bicep before I said, “Joe?” In a somewhat pissed off tone. I saw Joe look Luke up and down before grabbing two drinks in his hand while I grabbed the other one and started walking with me.
I scoffed a little bit and stopped walking before we got to the table so Serena and Jonny couldn’t hear us. I turned to face Joe as we both set our drinks on the nearest table. Joe was just looking down at me with a pissed look on his face. “What the hell was that, Joe?” I asked him. Joe looked like I was the stupid one before he gestured over to Luke and said, “What the hell was that?” I looked at him like I was missing something. What was his fucking deal? “Me catching up with a friend from LSU and you being a fucking dick before I was able to introduce the two of you, that’s what it’s called, Joe.” I said.
Joe just looked me up and down while biting his lip slightly and said, “I don’t care what it’s called. I don’t like the way he was looking at you. I’m your fucking boyfriend, not him.” I let out a small laugh and shook my head, taken aback. “What, do you not trust me now or something? When have I ever given you a reason to not trust me.” I practically spat at him, getting even more annoyed as we talked. Never in our time as a couple have I ever been unfaithful. “It’s him that I don’t trust. If you haven’t noticed, you’re the most gorgeous girl in this entire bar.” Joe said.
What reason would he have for not trusting Luke? Could he not see by the way I reacted that we were only friends who haven’t seen each other in a while? And anyways, he overreacted before he even got the whole story. I couldn’t help but laugh at him a little bit. “He has a fucking girlfriend, Joe. Why are you so jealous?” I asked him. “It doesn’t matter that he has a fucking girlfriend,” Joe said quickly and looked over at Luke before he looked even more pissed and gestured angrily over to him, “I mean look at the way he’s staring at your fucking ass right now.”
Without even looking at Luke, I scoffed while shaking my head at him and said, “you’re unreal.” Joe squinted down at me. “So now I’m not allowed to be pissed when a random man is drooling all over you?” He asked me. I put my hands on the top of my head for a few seconds before letting them slide off, shocked at how he was acting. “You are blowing this way out of proportion, Joseph. We were friends back at LSU.” I said. “Why, because I don’t want a man who used to be your friend flirting with my girlfriend and staring at her ass? You’re mine.” Joe said.
“Exactly, I’m yours. I’m yours and you are mine, so who the fuck cares that someone I was friends with a few years ago was flirting with me?” I asked him. Joe looked over in the direction of our table and grabbed my arm gently and moved us a few feet away. While he was moving me, I looked back at the table to see Serena and Jonny staring at us, knowing something was going on.
When we stopped, Joe looked right into my eyes. For the first time during this entire conversation, my face flushed red and I could feel myself getting turned on slightly. Why was this so hot right now? “I do. I care. I am the only one that should be flirting and looking at you like that.” Joe said. I tried my hardest to hide my smile because despite how much I was annoyed with him and his jealousy, he was really fucking hot.
After a few seconds, I couldn’t hide it any more and smiled up at him. Joe glared at me in confusion while butterflies flew around in my stomach. “You’re honestly pretty freaking hot when you’re jealous.” I said, my face heating up a little bit from the dirty thoughts in my head as I admired Joe and his pissed off state. Joe started to smirk a little bit but when he realize what he was doing, he cleared his throat and the smirk was gone just like that. “It’s not funny. Do you know how much I wanted to smash his fucking face into that bar?” Joe asked me. With a little glare, I wrapped my arms around his neck and tried to pull him closer, but he wouldn’t budge. So, I tried to go closer to him, but all he did was back up.
I stopped moving and then stuck out my bottom lip jokingly, knowing one of his weaknesses was when I looked sad. With an annoyed look on his face, he wrapped his arms around my waist, hating the effect I had on him. We both pulled each other in closer so I leaned forwards and kissed Joe’s lips. Not expecting it at first, Joe pulled back slightly and gazed into my eyes before smashing his lips against mine. Joe breathed in the kiss as I arched my back. Joe kissed me back hard and right before we pulled away, Joe bit my bottom lip gently. “Was he watching that?” I breathed out with a smile. Joe looked up at the bar past my head and then nodded with a small smile. “Good.” I said and turned around to look in the direction of the bar with our arms still around each other. My eyes caught Luke’s who immediately looked away with an embarrassed, awkward, and nervous look on his face. I looked away and to Joe while running my fingers through his hair. “Let him be the jealous one, I’m not going anywhere Joey. Ever.” I said.
#joe burrow#joeburrow#cincinnati bengals#nfl#joe burrow bengals#joe shiesty#joey b#bengals#joey burrow#joe burr#joe x reader#joe burrow fic#joe burrow fan fic#joe burrow imagine#joe burrow x reader#nfl fan fiction#nfl imagine#football#jealousy#angst
194 notes
·
View notes
Text
Lip Gloss - S.R
a/n: wow this is really short and i feel like i overuse the lip gloss shtick but
masterlist
‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧
pairings: spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader
summary: in which spencer really likes your sparkly lip gloss
warnings: none? fluff
wc: 0.5k
Pink. Sparkles. Lip gloss. Those were the only thoughts running through Spencer's mind as he walked into the break room. Which this was a surprise to him because usually his mind was running a mile a minute--mathematical equations, book references, and case theories. But when you were near that was all reduced to a heaping pile of nothing. Especially now, as you leaned casually against the counter, in pink pumps and matching skirt that definitely wasn't up to the dress code, but he wasn't sure if you cared.
Cradled between your hands was a white mug, its side inscribed with the words 'Britney survived 2007. You can handle today' in stark black letters. He had no idea what it meant, but he noticed it was your favorite, a staple in your daily routine, unless it found its way to the top self, an inconvenience Spencer would subtly always rectify when he went to pour his own cup.
The focal point of his attention, however, was your lips, more precisely, the sheer layer of shimmering gloss that clung to them. Words were forming on those same lips, presumably directed at him, but they seemed to dissolve before reaching his ears, his gaze transfixed by the glistening movement of your mouth.
"Huh?"
With a smile, you pressed your glittering lips together and took a step in his direction. He managed to clear his throat, trying to redirect his attention to your eyes, but his gaze remained helplessly planted.
"I swear, half my routine is just reapplying this stuff after every sip," you said while your thumb worked diligently to wipe away the sparkling smudge from the mug.
"Considering the non-Newtonian fluid dynamics of the lip gloss's polymeric substances, which exhibit both viscous and elastic properties, it leads to a higher propensity for adhesion and cohesion on substrates with varying thermal coefficients."
Your fingers absentmindedly toyed with your earlobe as you cocked your head, a bemused furrow forming above your eyes, but your smile remained diminished.
"Sorry, that went right over my head," you laughed, nose scrunching in the process. "But it's sweet of you to assume I caught all that."
"Oh, sorry, well, lip gloss is made of oils and waxes that give it that shiny appearance. However, these ingredients don't fully absorb to your skin, so when you press your lips against something, like a hot coffee cup, the excess transfers over."
Heat suffused his face as he registered the unwavering attention you afforded him, as if you were hanging on his every syllable. He sensed your struggle to comprehend, but your effort was evident. He really liked having your attention.
"So, with all that brainpower, do you have any tips for keeping my gloss on my lips instead of my mug?"
"Maybe a straw?"
Your laughter was like music to his ears, filling his senses as your hand, perfectly manicured, lightly touched his arm. A rush of warmth flooded his neck, and he looked at you, momentarily lost for words, as you murmured, "I'll try that out, thanks, Dr. Reid."
"Spencer," he corrects.
"Right, well, thank you, Spencer," you said, standing on tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek, before twirling on your heels, your smile lingering in the air.
Spencer could feel the stickiness on his skin, his fingers pressing against the spot you had left, feet glued to the ground. He starting to think he really likes lip gloss.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x bimbo!reader#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fluff#Spotify
286 notes
·
View notes
Note
Was on tiktok and I found the funniest thing! The audio is called -4things a man does when he starts to lose feelings- but with jason x reader?
i didn't know if you wanted it to be angtsy or fluffy so I kind of just went with the flow
Detached
Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader
trigger warning(s): hurt no comfort
a/n: this was left in my inbox for a little too long... but I'm back and ready to start writing again!!
You and Jason have been drifting apart lately.
You don't know if you were just imagining it, but there definitely was a bridge between you two. An uncrossable gap. An empty feeling.
"Baby, I'm home." You closed the door of your shared apartment. Unlike the times that seemed so long ago, no eager boyfriend was waiting for you at the front door. No sweet, soft, kisses on your temple, his chocolate voice insisting on taking your bags for you.
Now, he was just sitting on the couch, reading his book. He didn't even look up when you walked past him, just giving a muttered 'hello'. Your heart sank as you observed Jason's distant demeanor. It wasn't just today; it had been building up for weeks. The warmth that once enveloped your relationship seemed to have dissipated into the cool, icy air of indifference. What was going on?
After a shower, you made your way to the living room, taking a seat at the furthest side of the couch from Jason, nervously fidgeting with your hands. The tension in the air was so thick you could hardly breathe in it. "Um, Jay?" You mumbled nervously.
"Yeah?" Came an indifferent reply.
"Are we...still on for tomorrow? We are supposed to go for a picnic at the park tomorrow." There was a spark of hope in your voice. Maybe this was what you and Jason needed to fix things. Perhaps you were just imagining things. Maybe-
"I can't, I got that case to work on with Bruce."
You froze. "But Jason, you said-"
"I know, and I'm sorry, baby," There's no feeling now when he says the word. That word used to come with affection and tender love, now, his voice was just robotic. "You know I can't hold this case up any longer."
Your heart sank further as Jason's response echoed in your mind. It was yet another missed opportunity to spend quality time together, another sign of the growing distance between you. You struggled to find the right words, the ones that could somehow bridge the gap that seemed to widen with each passing day.
"I understand," you replied, trying to keep the disappointment from seeping into your voice. "Work is important. More important than me, I guess." You muttered the last part under your breath.
But deep down, you couldn't shake the feeling of hurt and disappointment. It wasn't just about missing the picnic; it was about the underlying issue that had been festering between you two. The lack of communication, and the growing sense of disconnect — they were all symptoms of a much deeper problem.
Jason glanced at you briefly before returning his attention to his book, the distance between you feeling more pronounced than ever. You wanted to reach out, to break through the walls that had been set up between you, but you didn't know where to begin.
After a moment of silence, you gathered your courage and spoke again. "Jason, can we talk?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.
He looked up, his expression guarded. "About what?"
"About us," you said softly, your heart pounding in your chest. "I-I feel like we've been drifting apart lately, and I don't want to lose what we have."
For a moment, Jason's facade wavered, a flicker of vulnerability shining through his stoic exterior. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by a mask of indifference.
"There's nothing to talk about," he said curtly, his tone final.
You felt a lump form in your throat, the weight of his words crushing any hope you had left. You realized then that the bridge between you two wasn't just uncrossable — it had crumbled beneath the weight of unspoken words and unresolved issues.
"Oh, okay." That was all that you said.
As the silence stretched between you, you couldn't help but wonder if this was the beginning of the end, if the distance that had grown between you was now too vast to overcome. "I-I'm heading to bed," You announced, not waiting for a reply as you practically ran to your shared bedroom and closed the door, feeling Jason's eyes on you as you retreated.
What had gone wrong? Where had the love and affection that once filled your days disappeared to? The questions swirled in your mind, taunting you with their lack of answers.
As the hours passed, sleep eluded you, your thoughts consumed by the uncertainty of the future. Could you salvage what was left of your relationship, or was it too late to mend the broken pieces?
The sound of footsteps outside the bedroom door snapped you out of your reverie, and you tensed, unsure of what to expect. Was Jason coming to talk, to offer reassurance and comfort? Or was he retreating further into his own world, leaving you to navigate the storm alone?
The door creaked open, and you held your breath, waiting for his presence to fill the room. But instead of Jason, there was only silence, punctuated by the hollow echo of your own heartbeat.
"Jay?"
"It's me," came his reply. He pushed through the door, sliding underneath the covers in his place on the bed.
Silence ensued.
"Do you...want to talk about it?" You quietly asked.
"Not right now, please," Jason sighed, turning away from you. As he stayed awake beside you, you can't help but think that you have really lost him.
#killxz#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#red hood x reader#batman#jason todd#batboys#jason todd angst#fanfic#ao3 fanfic#red hood
232 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello, in case your requests are without any guidelines, can you a fic like this:
You saved the life of I.N., who was fatally injured in a deal gone wrong, but you're oblivious that he's from SKZ (an underground group known to be dangerous).
Let me know if you have any questions? Thanks for considering!
⭑ “i owe you” ⭑ pt.1
⭑ jeongin x female reader
⭑ content includes: non-idol reader, non-idol jeongin, causal mentions of blood and scars, mentions of other members (bang chan), reader is a doctor
⭑ note: by no means am i a doctor so please correct any of my terminology if its not used correctly.
⭑ minors dni
the red traffic light glowed in the cold, dark night, forbidding you from shutting your eyes. your car's broken clock insisted it was 12:08 AM, though you knew it must be at least 4:08 AM. The familiar alleyway you always surveyed after your dreaded shift was usually populated by drug dealers, homeless souls, and discarded beer cans. tonight, however, a figure crouched there, clutching his right hand and gazing up at the moon...
fortunately a parking spot was open right after the traffic stop and you rush your first aid kit out of the back, pacing to this odd instance. running up to strange man at 4 in the morning wouldn’t be ideal, but you’re a doctor who believes there is good in everyone, and leaving someone hurt is morally wrong. your footsteps slow down as you approach him, eventually stopping to make out his face.
his face was illuminated by the moon he looked up to for hope. his eyes were sharp and dreamy, reminiscent of a fox’s gaze. a fresh scar ran down his left cheek, hinting at a serious injury. you couldn’t make anything else of his condition, but it seemed severe and the only solution would be taking him home to treat him.
“e-excuse me?”
his eyes flickered to the direction of your voice, squinting at your - not too appealing - presence. regardless of his beauty, his tattoos and shredded, soiled clothes lent him an intimidating feel.
“who are you?” his voice couldn’t be described as deep, but rather a large and empty void.
“im y/ln, doctor at the local hospital here. i noticed you looked injured and came to help”
“im fine”
you moved closer to him, shining a small flashlight on his body. the injuries were severe and far from fine. knife wounds, bruises and a split lip covered his body, causing him to lose more blood by the minute.
“im sorry, but i cannot leave you in this condition”
he grunted, his grip tightening on his hand, struggling to give you an audible response.
“just. leave.”
you act quick and throw his limp arm around your shoulder, guiding him slowly to your car. his blood seeped into your shirt, but what worried you more was his life being between your hands.
“fuck! can’t you see it’s an open wound?” your body jumped at his cries, feeling heavier with sympathy for him. you tried your best to disinfect his wounds gently, but the pain would be near intolerable.
“it’s almost over” you whispered to him, too focused to answer him back properly.
he sat on the sofa of your living room, taking in the art works you hung on the wall to distract him from the gruesome pain. every now and then he would flinch or grunt, but it’s nothing you’ve never dealt with before as a doctor.
you near the end of his ‘procedure’ and move to his face, inspecting the deep scar that ran across his cheek and his busted lip. a mix of disappointment and curiosity washed over you, expressed in a long sigh.
“what did you get yourself into?”
“nothing”
“what’s your name?” your questions were an attempt to distract the painful alcohol grazing his cuts, but his hissing and grunting never came to a stop.
“j-jeong in”
you repeat the name to yourself, its familiarity nudging at your head. while preparing the bandages, you couldn’t help but take in his strong facial features. he looks back at you too, eyes outlining every detail of your face. you couldn’t shake the feeling of familiarity, so you give it up to him being an old patient but a tattoo on his neck catches your eye, denying your conclusion.
(SKZ)
“SKZ? where have i heard that before?” it sounded like something that may have been in the newspapers they handed out to the doctors offices, or something on the news channel, but the lack of sleep wouldn’t be able to catch onto anything.
“you forced me into your home to fucking question me?!” he screamed at your face, looking at you in disgust. the words caught in your throat and you felt like crying, your thoughts crashing down. today had been stressful enough, and having someone scream at you was the last straw. jeongin notices the beads of tears forming on your waterline, changing his expression in a matter of seconds.
“please, just finish so i can leave” he sighs, turning to face the sunrise that peeked through the curtains. the teardrop falls on your leg and you return to what you should’ve been doing, feeling bad for the unnecessary confrontation you gave him.
a contact named “bang chan” buzzed his phone and he picks it up, placing it up to his ear and squirming at the pain of the alcohol on the scar of his cheek. you attempt to listen to some of the muffles from the other side, hoping you can conclude your suspicions about him.
jeongin- “yea?”
bang chan- “where are you man?”
jeongin- “getting treated by a random doctor in her house”
his eyes dart from his arm to your face, holding your gaze.
bang chan- “are you crazy? we are high profile by the police and you’re at a random doctors house?”
his tone was clearly sterner, but all the noises you could hear faded at the thought of having someone wanted infront of you. your body stiffens but you act clueless, worried of how dangerous he may be.
jeongin- “just… ill be back”
bang chan- “man this isn’t funny at all. you’re getting us in some deep shit”
jeongin- “she looks like she wouldn’t tell a soul”
bang chan- “a doctor? you couldn’t pick a worse person to help you?”
he scans your face for any fear or regret, but you hold back any emotions until he would be out of your house and safe.
bang chan- “god you’re so fucking oblivious. be here before the afternoon”
he laughs at his comment, ending the call.
you put all the equipment back to its place as jeongin sips on a mug of green tea, slouching on the couch. as a doctor you couldn’t let him out too early and he had to be watched for at least a day. but you were worried of his criminal state and if his friend would barge the door of your house open.
“you’ll need to rest. don’t get yourself involved in any of… that”
he nods, getting up to place his mug on the counter and head for the door.
“thank you. really”
you close your eyes, nodding at him and inspecting his bandages one more time.
“i owe you”
and with that, it would’ve been the last encounter with him. many questions ran through your head but it would autopilot to your couch, falling asleep to the memory of his ethereal but odd face.
the alleyway remained significant to you, always looking for him, or for another injured individual. but with the overflowing pressure of becoming a doctor and having no time to yourself, everything would fade away and it would become endless hours of work.
FIVE YEARS LATER
you parkoured between your new neighbors boxes to get to your door,
placing the groceries on the floor and rummaging for your key. your eyes couldn’t help but dart to the many boxes. the apartment next to you is finally occupied after a mysterious 3 years of nobody renting it.
at the collection of that thought, the door of the new neighbors unlocks, startling you. a mans back faced you, his hair orange, wearing a black leather jacket and black jeans. it was only when he turned that your heart may have stopped. his features were unmatched and unique, taking you a while to absorb before greeting him.
“hey! new neighbor?”
he didn’t respond for a while, looking at you with confusion.
“your name?”
“it’s y/n. im a doctor at the local hospital here. what about you?”
“jeongin”
recollections of that very night begin to flow through your mind and how everyday for weeks you stared into the dark alleyways, trying to picture his body there. immediately your eyes dart to his neck, only to find his tattoos slightly fading.
(SKZ)
your eyes dart back to his face, still questioning if it was true or not.
“i owe you”
TO BE CONTINUED
⭑ TAG LIST
@captainchrisstan @rylea08 @strayywayy @all4minnie @katsukis1wife @kayleefriedchicken
#stray kids#stray kids oneshot#skz#skz smut#stray kids smut#skz fanfic#skz scenarios#kpop#kpop oneshots#kpop bg#kpop smut#x reader#bang chan#bangchan x reader#lee know#lee know x reader#changbin#changbin x reader#hwang hyunjin#hyunjin x reader#han jisung x reader#jisung x reader#lee felix#lee felix x reader#seungmin#seungmin x reader#jeongin#jeongin x reader#smut#angst
127 notes
·
View notes
Text
¨˜ˆ”°⍣~•✡⊹٭„¸ Sweet Misunderstanding ¸„٭⊹✡•~⍣°`"~
͟͟͞͞꒰➳ Synopsis: Asking Chuuya to buy you "pads with wings."
͟͟͞꒰➳ Super Fluff!
͟͟͞͞꒰➳ Got the idea from this video Click me!
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.
You were feeling odd today.. oh right.. it's time of the month and you don't have any pads left. So you decided to ask Chuuya to buy you some.. after all its an emergency.
"Chuu.. can you buy me something pleaaase?"
Chuuya hums, as if considering your request for a moment before replying.
"Hm? Whaddya want me t'buy, Doll? Be more specific."
"Pads with wings.. i need it right now.."
Chuuya raises his eyebrows at the suddenness of the request, but he’s not bothered. If you need it, he’s gonna get it. However, it raises another question, one he probably shouldn’t ask.
“It’s that time o’ the month, huh?”
Chuuya chuckles when you nod in response to his question. He reaches over from his side of the bed and rubs your back soothingly. To him, it’s just a natural thing. You’re a woman, he knows how much it sucks to have your period.
“Yeah. Sure, I’ll go a store an’ get you some.” He rises out of bed and walks toward the door. Pausing, he looks back to you, grinning and winking cheekily.
“Gonna need a list of anything else besides pads?”
"Just pads with wings.." You said..
"Gotcha. I'll be right back."
He exits the room and then shortly after he leaves the apartment. He's gone for about an hour before he returns, carrying a bag from a local drugstore.
"Here you go, Darling. A whole ass supply of pads and chicken wings. Plus, uh, some candy cause I figured you want some sweets after that." Chuuya grins, and he seemed confident.
You were confused as you didn't asked for 'chicken wings' as you giggled.
"Why there's a Chicken wings here?" You said as you can't contain your laughter.
Chuuya looks down in confusion, then glances around the bag. His confusion deepens when he sees the chicken wings in there. He must've either zoned out or misheard you.
"...I thought you said you asked for pads with wings?" He replies, trying to get some clarification just in case he was right the whole time.
"Yeah i did.." You said still giggling.
Chuuya sighs. He's trying, really, but he's just not getting it. He scratches his head, thinking that maybe if he just says what he's thinking directly to you, you'd be able to clarify what you originally meant.
"Hey, Doll. I'm kinda slow today, so bear wit' me. When you asked for pads with wings, were you sayin' you wanted me to buy ya pads and wings, or were you sayin' you wanted me to buy you pads that literally have wings-"
You've been laughing on the entire situation as Chuuya got slight annoyed.. but he can't help but adored your laughing.
"I thought you knew what was you're going to buy.." you said..
"...Yeah. I should've known." Chuuya mutters as he sighs. He knows you well enough to have known what you were implying at. He just wasn't thinking it through correctly. It was just such a weird request. How can one NOT imagine pads with literal wings on them if somebody just said "pads with wings"?!
"...Forget it. Anyways, I got 'em for ya. Now quit bein' a smartass and help me finish these chicken wings before they get cold."
As both of you enjoyed the Chicken Wings and you still can't stop thinking about how funny it is as it makes Chuuya embarrassed and annoyed.. but he thinks.. buying it accidentally wasn't so bad, after all.. it was a sweet misunderstanding.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.
134 notes
·
View notes
Text
So last night I finished reading Rise of the Red Blade for TotE Vibes Research purposes and the two Inquisitor characters in it really illustrate exactly why I think Barriss is going to survive and escape them.
Because the thing is that there are two kinds of Inquisitors! The ones who volunteered, and the ones who...didn’t. Iskat (RotRB’s focus character) perfectly exemplifies the first type: she had some traumatizing experiences at a young age, fell through a number of institutional cracks in the Order, had a really terrible master (meet me in the pit, Sember Vey), everyone was too busy to give her the follow-up they would under normal circumstances, Palpatine had an agent actively gathering information about her and pushing her to become Worse—she was a pre-selected candidate who was offered the choice to come quietly when Order 66 hit, and she took it. By that point all of her issues and doubts had been exacerbated to the point where it wasn’t hard for her to make herself hate the Jedi, and then she rationalized her way through any indication that her freedom was a lie and doubled her way down right into hell.
By contrast: Tualon, Iskat’s crechemate situationship guy. He had some issues but was not someone on Palpatine’s radar; Iskat left him to die in Order 66 and he survived getting shot by darksiding out about her betrayal. Because of that he was taken alive and they did some shit to him. When Iskat runs into him at the Inquisitor HQ after he’s freshly-inducted he can barely remember why he hates her, or anything else from before he was taken. He woke up in the room where you fight Trilla and they fully shattered him and glued a semblance of a person back together out of the wreckage, just COMPLETELY Winter Soldiered the guy, and the only way he had to cope with it is to lean into a weird codependent situationship with Iskat.
And that distinction’s always been there with the Inquisitors; you have the true believers who ended up hating the Jedi or wanted to go on a power trip (or had the kind of revenge plan only a 12 year old could come up with and then stick to for a decade, in one case) and didn’t need any additional coercion to volunteer, and you have the ones that they broke. In the former group you’ve got the Grand Inquisitor, Reva/Third, Lyn/Fourth*, Fifth, and Iskat/Thirteenth. For the most part they’re certified freaks, but they came by it naturally. (Reva’s a different flavor.) In the latter, you’ve got Trilla/Second, Seventh, Masana/Ninth, Tualon, and probably most of the others. They all got disassembled and reassembled without much care given to the process and are all Coping with it badly in different ways, whether by deciding it’s Empowering, Actually (Trilla & Seventh) or by becoming completely jaded about everything (Masana & Tualon).
(*We obviously don’t know a lot about Fourth yet, but the fact that she shows up to recruit Barriss while rocking yellow dark side eyes before ROTS is even over tells me she’s definitely a volunteer.)
All this is to say: The Grand Inquisitor is making a colossal mistake with Barriss from the drop, and it’s why I think she’s going to win their battle of wits and escape. Because he is treating her like she is an Iskat and she could not be any farther from it.
He sends Lyn to get her to come quietly! They actively withhold information from her about what happened to the Jedi and what her expected role in it is! That’s not how they recruit the ones they think will be a problem; if that were the case she would have been stunned out of hand and woken up on a rack.
Instead, he’s giving her special attention,, he’s training her—he doesn’t think they need to break her. She’s just got a few...pesky hang-ups from her time as a Jedi that need ironing out**. He’s projecting on her; he doesn’t just want an empty shell holding a lightsaber—he wants Barriss Offee, loyally kneeling at his side, fully believing in their mission. She’s his favorite.
(**That “mercy only breeds defeat” line isn’t just a generic darksidism; I’m pretty sure he’s directly critiquing how Barriss got caught because she showed mercy to Asajj Ventress.)
And surely that's something he can turn her into, right? Because she hates the Jedi, right? She attacked them, she outsmarted them, obviously she’d be down for wanting to wipe them out! He was there when she confessed and, like pretty much everyone else in the room save for Ahsoka, he didn’t hear a single word that she said—just what he wanted her to be saying. He’s got a deeply incorrect idea of her, and that idea is “she’s just like me for real.”
And he’s wrong, because the Inquisitorius is everything she feared the Jedi Order was becoming—literally, an army fighting for the dark side—and the Empire is everything she knew the Republic was becoming. She might be prone to despairing, it might in some hypothetical be possible to get her into the same resigned despair trap as Anakin, but she would never actually want to serve the Empire, and they don't think they'll have to try hard to convince her to.
She loves the Jedi, she loved being a Jedi, she wanted to save them. She wants to be one again more than anything even though right now she thinks she doesn’t deserve it, thinks that she’s already too broken to reclaim what she was. But I think being surrounded by actual fallen Jedi and being told over and over again that she’s like them is, in the end, going to be what reminds her that she never stopped being a Jedi in the first place.
And as long as she can make sure her captors don't realize that's true until it's too late, she'll be home free.
#barriss offee#grand inquisitor#inquisitorius#tales of the empire#tote#star wars#they're gonna make her use the dark side and they're gonna make her do some stuff it'll be hard for her to live with#and she might give up hope for a minute#but I believe in her#she's gonna make it#the only way out is through
84 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sweatshirt (Greg House x reader)
Summary: House gets jealous by a certain article of clothing you're wearing
Warnings: petty/jealous House (aka the best kind), heavily implied poly House x reader x Wilson in case that's not your thing, very mild and brief swearing
A/N: based off a random little thought I had. don't ask me when during the show this is supposed to be set because I have no clue
It was missing. Wilson's McGill sweatshirt was missing, and House was very upset. It was his turn to wear it, and although he could've sworn he left it balled up on his side of the bed before he left for work it wasn't there when he returned.
The thought popped into his head that someone might've stolen it, but that was just stupid. After all, who would break into his apartment just to take a sweater?
You, apparently, as he soon came to realize when combing back over his place to look for it. He hadn't noticed it on you at first when he walked in, but now it was hard to miss, like a bright red target painted across your chest.
He almost glared at the way you were casually lounging on the couch, reading a book as if you hadn't stolen from him. "You're wearing his sweater." It wasn't a question, rather a statement, which made sense due to how very obvious the fact was.
You looked up from where you'd been reading and gave him an unimpressed look. "And you walk with a cane. Tell me something I don't know."
The corners of his lips quirked upwards into an amused half smile, but he tried to push his fond thoughts of you to the side for the time being. "You know, it's my turn to wear his sweater."
Letting out a hum, you dropped your eyes back down to the book in your hands and lazily turned the page. "Technically, it's my turn, after you decided to hide it for three weeks so I couldn't wear it."
That was true, he did do that. It was for no reason other than to mess with you, but now he was really started to regret his past decisions, something that rarely happened, if ever.
"You stole it from me, right out of my very own bed," he tried a different approach, putting on a face of mock hurt and offense in hopes of swaying you and getting it back. "Shame on you."
"You stole it from me first." Damn it, you had him there. "I was just returning the favor."
House stood there in front of you for a few minutes more hoping you'd somehow break with no such luck. Sighing loudly, he flopped down in his armchair, giving you a dirty look. "You know, two wrongs don't make a right."
You glanced up from your book, peeking at him from over the top of it. "An ethics lecture coming from you of all people? Well, this oughta be good." Now, it was your turn to be amused, something that didn't bode well with his competitive nature.
Seeing as it wasn't going to happen any other way, he tried a more direct approach in order to get you to give it back. "I want it. I want to wear it. It's mine."
"Technically, no, it's not. It's Wilson's, and I'm borrowing it," you pointed out, appearing unbothered by the evil look getting thrown your way. "Go find something else of his to wear if it's upsetting you so bad."
"I don't want to wear something else, though," he whined obnoxiously, trying to get on your nerves. It was working, but not nearly enough to get him what he wanted.
"Tough, because I'm wearing it right now. You're just going to have to deal with it."
Part of you thought that maybe you'd won this argument when he got up and left the room, but that thought was soon diminished when he came back less than a few minutes later, throwing something at your head.
"Really?" You asked in obvious irritation while pulling the shirt he'd thrown at you off your head.
"Put that on, and give me the sweatshirt back. That way you'll still feel all cozy and close to your doting boyfriends without having to wear that specifically," he reasoned as he stood there, his hands resting on the top of his cane. He looked proud of himself, like he was a little kid who'd finally solved a puzzle.
Despite your annoyance, it was hard to keep the slight smile off your face. Still, you weren't going to let him win that easily. "I'm not wearing it because of sentimental value. I'm wearing it because it's comfortable."
He groaned loudly, becoming visibly annoyed. "Why must you always be so damn difficult?"
"Funny, I could ask you the same question," you muttered as you held up the shirt and took a good look at it. It was one of House's old band tees, which made you realize something. "Hold on, are you jealous because you don't get to wear the sweatshirt, or is it because I'm wearing Wilson's clothes and not yours?"
The obvious pout on his face quickly gave away the answer. "Just give me the sweatshirt now, and I'll promise I'll give it back later." He held his hand out expectantly, resulting in you throwing his shirt back at his face.
"Nice try, but you're going to have to pry this off my cold, dead body." You settled back into the couch with your book as he walked away, grumbling under his breath. It appeared as though you'd won the battle, for now at least.
End notes: I've never written for House before but I tried to capture his personality the best I could! Hope y'all liked the Hilson references sprinkled in lol
Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated <3
Main masterlist | House MD masterlist | wanna be added to my taglist?
🏷 taglist: none yet to tag
#house md#house md imagine#house md x reader#house md fic#house md fluff#house imagine#house x reader#house fic#greg house#greg house imagine#greg house x reader#greg house fic#gregory house#gregory house imagine#gregory house x reader#gregory house fic#gender neutral reader#gn reader
72 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi :D if you do character x character (with possibly x reader, too) headcanons, may i request nikprice hcs? aghh.. i love them so much, but there's (in my opinion) little content of them compared to other ships.. if you do have to add reader into it too thats okay :) i don't mind poly (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)
but besides that how are you doing? i hope youre doing good :]
Hey there! I'm doing well, thank you! I've actually got five days off next week, which I'm really looking forward to! Plus I get to go to my regular department again too soon enough! But unfortunately, the other apprentice left me with so much work ^^;
NikPrice and NikPrice x Reader
NikPrice:
Although the two of them may be a bit older than some of their peers, they can still be considered idiots, especially when they’re with one another. Sometimes they get weirdly competitive with each other, which can result in either of them getting hurt. Nikolai leads Chimera and Price leads the TF141, both of them sometimes need to show off just how good they are at some things. Nikolai is usually a pretty calm guy, but he does get a bit cocky with Price, so he’ll instigate some competitions. Who can carry the most groceries. Who can find the most dogs and take pictures with them. Who will be favored the most for the week among their boys. It’s just dumb things, and Nikolai does try to cheat his way through most of them, but Price knows him well enough by now to know how he will try to weasel his way into victory. Price usually plays fair and forces Nikolai to do the same. The winner gets bragging rights and that’s about it. Sometimes they poker on who pays for dinner, but they don’t really mess around too much when it comes to more serious stuff. However, they both also compete with each other to show off just how good of a partner they are, even if there’s no need to do that anymore. They can both be proud as peacocks and always need to outdo one another.
Although it may sound stupid, the two of them do spar with each other from time to time. Since they’re about equal in strength it’s actually quite interesting to watch the two of them fight, both have a pretty good technique as well. However, Nikolai has more experience under his belt since he’s quite a bit older than Price. Again, he’s also not above cheating by trying to entice Price with just about anything he can think of. They’re adults, they’re leaders, but they are still morons with each other. Sometimes they fight over the TV remote when Price wants to watch his football game and Nikolai wants to tease him. Price gets mad every time he misses the football game just because he lost to his stupid lover. Nikolai gets a good laugh out of it every time. Although he may love Price more than anyone else, he can be a playful and cocky bastard at times. He makes up for it by taking Price to a real football game in a stadium, though. Can’t enrage the boyfriend too much all the time. Price is usually overjoyed when he does since he gets really into it. There’s nothing better than enjoying some football with Nikolai. Unless Nikolai teases Price about his team losing. In that case the two of them won’t be talking more than necessary for an hour. However, Price goes back to normal after the initial anger of his team losing has worn off.
Nikolai is actually a chef of the master class. He can cook just about anything and make it well at that too. Since he’s been pretty much everywhere at this point he’s learned quite a few recipes from all around the world. He also knows how to use his spices well. Though, his favorite recipes to make are still Russian ones. The two of them cook together often, it relaxes them. Besides, Price gets the privilege of eating Nikolai’s pirozhki before anyone else does. It’s an honor to him since he’s never had anything better in his life. Loves being Nikolai’s taste tester as well. Price isn’t as good a cook as Nikolai, but he does like showing his appreciation for all the good food by cooking something in return. However, his food is kind of bland. It could be worse, but it could also use a lot more spices. Nikolai used to tease Price about that before, but he’s stopped since as Price really does put a lot of effort into cooking for Nikolai. The latter really isn’t so mean to genuinely hurt his boyfriend like that. He does give Price some constructive criticism, though. Offers to help with cooking next time, but both of them know that Nikolai will just take the lead. But in the end, they both really do enjoy cooking with each other, regardless of who makes the main dish. They also get really chatty during it.
NikPrice x Reader
Considering how long they’ve been with each other, they've gotten used to it, but you genuinely cannot cuddle them during summer. You’ll become a sweaty mess and won’t be able to sleep at all since they’re both very warm. Nikolai more so than Price. However, the two of them can cuddle each other just fine since they’re used to warmer nights because of all the missions they’ve gone on. However, it’s pretty nice in winter. They’re two big, burly and warm men who love to make you feel toasty. Price is actually a pretty cuddly guy and Nikolai can be too with the right people. If you’re not on the cuddly side then they’ll settle for giving you a pat on the back every once in a while or just holding your hand. But Price loves touching you and Nikolai. He doesn’t need to do it every single waking moment, but it’s nice to hold your loved ones. Nikolai can go either way, but he’s pretty cuddly with Price. Sometimes the two of them fight over who gets to be the big spoon, other times they’ll just plop into each other’s arms. If you’re shorter than them then you’ll likely get sandwiched between them. If you’re as tall or taller than them then they might ask you to take on the role of big spoon. Sure, they won’t mind it when you’re shorter than them, but they’ll chuckle since you’re just a little backpack.
Both of them will try to teach you how to fight and defend yourself. Even if you’re capable of that already, they’ll teach you something anyway. They’re both military men, they know what they’re talking about. Besides, it’s not as unlikely as one might think that you might get hurt because of them. You need to be able to defend yourself. They’ll take turns teaching you, improving your form and all. They’ll sometimes even deliberately spar in front of you so you could learn something from them fighting with each other. They won’t be as rough with you as they are with each other, especially not if you’re not part of the military, but they’ll be diligent in teaching you either way. If you’re part of the military then they’ll be rougher with you, but not as rough as with each other. Nikolai and Price have known each other for so long, they know where each other’s limits are. You’re the newest addition, so there’s still things they need to get to know. But I can assure you they will take good care of you. They’ll also reward you if you’re doing especially well during your little training lessons. Nikolai tries to bribe you into doing well by offering to cook your favorite meal if you do so.
The two of them actually spoil you rotten, especially if you don’t earn as much money as they do. Nikolai earns even more money than Price, so he has quite a lot to spend. Loves buying you and him all kinds of things. These can range from something useful to just something he saw and thought you might like. Price doesn’t like being indebted to people, so he always tries to buy Nikolai something back, even insisting that he shouldn’t buy him as many things. Nikolai never listens to him in that regard. And since Price buys Nikolai things he has to buy something for you as well. Sometimes it’s just your favorite kind of cake, sometimes it’s some nice and expensive jewelry. It’s always a mystery with Price. You don’t have to feel obligated to buy them something either. You’re more than welcome to if you have the finances to do so, but if you usually barely get by then you really shouldn’t have to. In fact, if you don’t have a lot of money then the two of them will pay for just about anything you need. Clothes, food, other necessities. It doesn’t matter. Together they have more money than they know what to do with anyway. It’s nice to spend it on someone you love and make them happy anyway. Don’t pay them back, they’ll find your bank account and return the money. They love you, let them pamper you like the little royalty you are.
#cod#cod x reader#cod nikolai#john price#nikolai x reader#john price x reader#price x reader#nikprice#nikprice x reader#I never really thought about writing charxchar on this blog in all honesty#but I suppose I can do it if more requests like this come in :] I doubt it but I'm willing to do it#I loved working on this because they may be smart but they're also complete and utter dumbasses#they're smart when it counts let's leave it at that#I actually have thought about being in a relationship with NikPrice before but I sometimes throw Graves into the mix as well#there's nothing wrong about yearning to be in a relationship with some men who could buy you something nice#and who would actually love you#see fictional characters are actually really good because they will always love you if you want them to#ugh I wanna cuddle these idiots so bad which is funny because I'm actually touch averse 95% of the time#but I just know that a good thorough cuddle session from those men would put me in a really good mood
61 notes
·
View notes
Text
movie night
summary: vil devotes his time to showing you all the movies you haven't seen yet
type of post: short fic
characters: vil schoenheit
additional info: romantic, FLUFF, reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, kinda short
author's note: I so often think about how yuu is completely unfamiliar with pop culture in twisted wonderland. vil would lose his mind if he found out you hadn't seen a single movie yet. in my heart I know he's a little nerdy about it
It's to be expected.
Of course. Of course you haven't had the time or the means.
It's perfectly reasonable that you'd put your studies and social obligations before leisure time. He understands.
But hearing you so openly admit that you haven't seen a single movie since arriving in this world, let alone one of his, doesn't sit well with Vil Schoenheit.
As it turns out, the mythological being who doesn't spend their free time absorbed in media is real, and they're standing right in front of him with an apologetic smile.
Oh, you poor, poor thing.
Even after the conversation dies and you part ways on good terms, Vil can't shake this odd, itchy feeling.
He wonders what it must be like- not understanding anyone's references, being left out of conversations, still so dependent on a culture that doesn't even exist here.
Is there something wrong with the people you spend your time with? Surely at least one of them would take the time to show you the classics. Just one.
No wonder everyone regards you as naive and innocent. No one's taken the time to explain anything about this world to you. And he's sure that extends far beyond cinema...
"What is this?"
It's the first thing you ask when he opens the door to you. Ever curious, ever clueless.
"Is that a rhetorical question?" he says, looking thoroughly unamused with your naivete.
A projector. A white screen. And a tray full of luxury skincare essentials that he'll be sure to test on you while you're distracted.
"Seriously," you say. "What's going on? Your message was really vague."
He sighs. "Oh, goodness, just come inside,"
Vil sits you down on the edge of his bed and hands you a plush headband to push your hair out of your eyes. He's more than pleased at your lack of protests thus far, and continues to take advantage of your willingness while smearing a sweet-smelling face mask over your cheeks.
"It needs to set before we start,"
"Start what?"
Vil smirks, standing and drifting across the room to a large wardrobe- no, a cabinet. He opens it- no, a shelf. Packed full of DVDs, arranged by date and in pristine condition.
"Wow, Vil. I never took you for a nerd,"
His gaze sharpens. "Hardly. And try not to talk so much right now, you'll crack the mask,"
He hums merrily, delicate fingers dancing over the smooth plastic cases before stopping at a soft white one. "This'll do,"
You watch as Vil returns to your side, carefully inspects your face, and then walks back around to tinker with the projector. You, of course, wait patiently, hands folded neatly in your lap as the screen ahead of you comes to life.
He turns off the lights and sits beside you as a white light illuminates your face, turning the hue of the mask a strange color.
"This is a classic," he whispers. "It's the first film I remember loving."
"It's that good?"
He chuckles. "No, it's quite outdated, and terribly unfunny. I'm just fond of it,"
If there's anything Vil Schoenheit is, it's honest. The entire black and white picture (which you surmise is quite old by Twisted Wonderland standards) is heaped with unfunny and confusing references, terribly paced, and acted like a primary school play.
And yet, there's a sense of warmth that permeates the external terribleness of it, that of which takes form in each of Vil's awkward laughs.
You revel in each of his little comments, his tidbits about the actors, his trivia about the production. He certainly seems to know what he's talking about, and his grace and confidence almost distract you from how nerdy he's really being.
Though, he's really not paying close attention to the screen. Vil seems far more interested in watching you, your reactions, almost as if searching for some kind of approval in the expressions you make. Do you laugh at this joke? Do you ask about this plot twist? Do you enjoy this song?
It's a completely alien experience, having him looking to you for validation, although you make sure to comment on how much you enjoyed yourself. Just to see him smile again.
"Same time next week, then," he says. "One movie won't be enough to catch you up on decades of pop culture, after all."
And thus, a tradition is born.
It's strange for him to think about how you've made yourself a home in his schedule. Wedged between expensive photo shoots and meetings with luxury brands, there's you. One single name in the same spot every week.
He couldn't admit it, but you've quickly become the highlight of his calendar.
"And this is just after they transitioned to movies with sound. It was a grand extinction event, not every studio nor star survived," he says, nodding to the screen ahead.
You hum in agreement. Your eyes are heavier than usual, and you're leaning against your elbow, absent-mindedly agreeing with everything he says.
A part of Vil wants to tease you for finding his taste in film boring, but he's not even sure if you have the mental capacity to listen to big words right now.
"Sleepy?"
"Grim kept waking me up last night..." you sigh. "I'm paying attention, I promise."
He watches you lie through your teeth, and then he watches as your words grow heavy and your body slumps over, awkwardly positioned against his.
Vil sighs- whatever is he going to do with you and that terrible sleep schedule of yours?- and readjusts so that your head is neatly set in the crook of his neck and your body is comfortably fit against his.
He finishes the movie, and lets the screen play the menu sequence over and over again. It's not really worth waking you up over, after all.
You're so cute when you're sleeping.
He hates himself for thinking that. You're perfectly inelegant- awkwardly breathing, practically drooling. And yet, he could stay here for the rest of the night and not wholly regret it in the morning. He just wishes you'd picked a better time to fall asleep on him.
Someday, he'd gladly return to bed to cuddle with you after he'd done his evening routine.
But... just this once, he'll let it go.
#had a rough day yesterday and I use this blog to decompress#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#vil schoenheit x reader
108 notes
·
View notes
Text
Weed and sex... in a car. With 3 time Formula 1 World Champion Max Verstappen. What could possibly go wrong?
It's a long one boys (can it even be called a blurb if it's over 1.5k ?)
Perhaps getting high before an event wasn't the best idea after all. Max had decided to celebrate your birthday with a joint (or two or three) before going to dinner with Christian, Gerri and a boatload of sponsors and higher ups. Anyone with half a brain could have told you this could only end in disaster but when you and Max were together you were a couple of menaces. That's why Max's press officer hated that you were always around at the races and usually his plus one at events. She had a hell of a time covering up the "incidents" and "behaviours unbecoming of a formula one world champion"... ha! Yeah right. Between public indecency and and drunken shenanigans usually leading to property damage, it was a miracle the two of you had never been arrested to be honest.
Well except that one time after his first Monaco win but that's a story for another time.
Whatever, what else are rich people in their twenties supposed to do with their best friends in their free time anyway?
So there you were, in the passenger seat of Max's loaned company car, both high on expensive weed (or so Max said, the bloody cheapskate). The drive was pretty long and you got a rather intense case of the munchies about 20 minutes in so Max decided to stop for gas while you went into the gas station and bought snacks for the road. When you turned your head away from the cashier and saw max, your mouth went dry (and this time not from the weed).
See, this was in the middle of a heatwave (thanks climate change!) and max was wearing a suit. He decided that the best way to cool down was to unbutton his shirt and let his chest get some air. Unfortunately this, plus his sweaty dishevelled hair and the joint he still had in his mouth while he pumped gas, conjured up quite a few lewd images in your mind. You had never seen him look quite this debauched (again, except in Monaco but again, that's for another time). The sight was positively sinful. Or at least it seemed hot as fuck to you but you were high so who knows, either way his appearancewas getting you hot and bothered, so you decided to take a picture to remember the moment.
The cashier had to clear her throat loudly to get your attention, and by the time you had payed and left max had already got back in the car. When you climbed in you checked your reflection in the mirrors. Dilated pupils, check. Redness around the eyes, check. There was no way Christian wouldn't notice, and he definitely would not be happy.
Max's hand suddenly on your thigh brought you out of your thoughts as you looked at him, he looked just as fucked up as you felt.
"There's no way we can go to dinner like this right?" He was panting slightly and looked like he was fighting to stay alive.
"I don't think so, you wanna call Christian and cancel?"
"Nooo he's gonna kill me" He pouted as he took his hand off you to roll down the window to let some air in.
Weirdly you found that you missed its comforting presence on your thigh. And the image of it going higher suddenly entered your mind. That thought made you panick a bit, seeing as you had never had those kind of thoughts about Max. (Well, does it bear repeating? Monaco. Yeah).
Still panting, with his head out of the window like a dog, he groaned. "I don't think I can drive like this. Are you having a weird reaction to the weed?"
"Um... a bit, I guess. I'm hot and uh..." you trailed off and max looked at you
"And what?"
"No it's embarrassing"
"No tell me! What is it"
You looked at him for a moment, the two of you breathing harder than normal, both fighting something.
"Well..." you gulped "I guess I'm like, horny? But, I always get horny when I smoke, this is like... more intense? Different sensations I guess."
Max exhaled and closed his eyes, leaning his head against the headrest.
"Me too" he whispered in an oddly strained way. Then his eyes suddenly snapped open "Wait a minute! Are you telling me you've been horny every time we've gotten high together?!"
Shit.
"Uhhh, yeah?"
You noticed Max was squirming in his seat a little bit.
"Fuck, that's- why didn't you tell me?"
You stared at him. Was this really how the conversation was going to go?
" I- don't know I guess... I thought you wouldn't be interested?"
"Are you serious? I wouldn't be interested?! Even after MONACO?!"
"We're best friends Max, I don't wanna lose that. And we've never actually talked about Monaco so I assumed you wanted to forget it!"
"Forg- Forget it?! It's been three years and I haven't stopped thinking about it!"
"Oh"
"Yeah, oh!"
"Fuck"
"Only if you want to"
"What?"
He looked at you, eyes scanning your face, gaze dropping to your lips.
"We're both high and horny in a car right now, do you want to fuck me?"
You were taken aback slighly, Max was nothing if not straightforward, it was one of the things you loved about him.
"Max, I've wanted to fuck you since we were-"
Thats all he needed to hear before grabbing your hair and yanking your upper body towards him. Given both of your states it was more licking at each others mouths than actual kissing but this had been a long time coming you supposed and you were both too high to care.
You broke away and climbed between the seats into the backseat, winking at him as he gawked at your ass, barely covered by your pathetic excuse for a dress. "You joining me then, or leaving me to take care of myself?"
"Fuck no" He growled and crawled in after you. In hindsight it would have been easier and quicker to use the car doors, but he finally made it and it took you a while to find a position that wasn't too uncomfortable in the small space.
You ended up on his lap, facing the front of the car while he pulled down the straps of your dress and kissed your neck sofly. He squeezed your tits gently while whispering in your ear. "You know, since Monaco I've been dreaming of the day I would see you like this again. I was starting to think It never even happend. Like it was some kind of religious experience or something"
You giggled. What a sap. "If I had known that's how you felt I would have let you do this years ago. But could you get a move on please? I feel like I'm going to go insane if y-"
He cut you off by shoving his fingers in your mouth and pressing down on your tongue. You moaned at the intrusion and sucked on his fingers to get them nice and wet.
"Good girl"
Your eyes rolled back as you leaned back against him and he chuckled.
"See, I did learn some things in Monaco"
He spread your legs which were hooked over his and trailed his now wet fingers down over your chest and stomach, as his other hand slid your panties to the side. The moment he made contact with your clit you jolted slightly in his grasp. Being horny for so long must have made you extra sensitive. And wet. It didn't take Max long to slide two fingers into you with ease as he crooked them immediately and you whimpered. Every movement, every press of his fingers felt like heaven and you could already feel that you weren't going to last long.
Before you could say anything though, Max's phone started ringing from the floor. He picked it up, fingers still making you writhe on his lap and answered the call, the absolute madman.
Then he pressed the phone to your ear and whispered in the other "Go on then schatje, talk to Christian, I'm a bit busy right now"
"What the FUCK Max where the hell are you?! You were supposed to be here an hour ago! I'm going to kill you when you get here!"
You had to swallow down your moans in order to answer "Um hi Christian it's- it's me!" You squeaked out "Um we won't be making it unfortunately- Max- Max has indegestion and he's very ill and- aaah- he's- um he's-"
You were so close to the edge and Max showed no signs of stopping, you were becoming unintelligible under his skilled fingers.
"This is unacceptable behaviour! What the fuck have you done to him now?! It's always you causing proble-"
The rest of his sentence was drowned out as you came hard around Max's fingers (when did he slip a 3rd one in?!) and you moaned loudly before Max could slap a hand over your mouth.
As you came down the silence on the line was deafening.
"Wh-"
Max interjected "We got high Christian I can't drive!" and hung up. "He won't be calling again I reckon"
You couldn't help but giggle. "Oh my GOD Max we're gonna be in so much trouble! Christian is gonna kill me because I made you miss an important dinner and- oh my god he just heard me have an orgasm that is your BOSS- fucking hell max what were-"
You hadn't noticed that during your rambling he had unbuckled his pants and taken his dick out, but as soon as he started rubbing the tip against your folds you stopped dead.
He chuckled "Fuck Christian, I wouldn't miss this for the world"
And with that he slid in to the hilt, punching a gasped moan out of you, and started pounding into you deep and fast, somehow reaching all the right spots immediately. The build up to this one felt different. It was faster and more intense, and you were speechless. You realised too late what was about about to happen as you started dripping onto his thighs. Then the flow got heavier and Max swore as his hips stuttered, his orgasm taking him by surprise. He stopped, still inside you and you felt drained, literally. You stayed like that for a minute, both of you catching your breaths as you came to the realisation... "Max, fuck! the car!"
"Fuck the car. I'll send the fee to Christian"
You huffed in disbelief. He was out of his mind. But for now it was just the two of you, in this now ruined car, drugs just starting to wear off, and that was enough for tonight, you needed to go home and sleep it off. You could worry about the consequences later.
"So... exactly how expensive was the weed?"
Inspired by this fake pic of 'max'
Yes, I will be writing the monaco thing, I had an amazing idea for it so... that will come at some point. Spoiler, it features another driver ooooh.
And also DISCLAIMER DO NOT SMOKE WHILE PUTTING GAS IN A CAR I AM SERIOUS THAT IS SUPER DANGEROUS
ALSO DO NOT SMOKE AND DRIVE
ALSO DO NOT ORGASM WHILE ON THE PHONE TO YOUR FRIENDS BOSS KIDS
59 notes
·
View notes
Text
doctor's orders (WIP)
Fandom: Love and Deepspace
Characters: Zayne x Reader
Summary: Zayne is surprisingly obedient as a patient when it’s your turn to play doctor.
Rating: E (M for this snippet though)
A/N: Posting this WIP first because I think it'll take me a while to write the full thing. :")
++++++
He’s terribly late.
It’s almost midnight now, almost 12 hours past the time he was supposed to have you over at his place for lunch and a home movie date. He had already prepared everything perfectly, from the food, to the table setting, to the extra blankets on the couch (only because you liked to snuggle). And then you had arrived right on time, and everything was going perfectly.
That is, until his work phone rang and he received an alert that one of his patients had to undergo surgery immediately.
You hadn’t looked fazed when he filled you in on the situation; after all, it was hardly the first time he had been whisked away from a date for unexpected work emergencies. You had told him before that you didn’t mind; saving lives came first and you’d have done the same if you were notified of wanderers in the area.
So he’d left promptly, promising to be back as soon as he could.
And now, twelve hours later, he has finally returned to the front door of his apartment, with a bouquet of flowers he’d picked up along the way as an apology. Zayne had texted you earlier to ask if you had already left, and you’d said that you would stay and wait for him, and that there was no hurry.
He sees your shoes still neatly placed outside, and yet another pang of guilt hits him. He just hopes you’re not too upset. He’ll have to make it up to you somehow.
As Zayne opens the door and steps in, he calls your name.
Silence. No response.
That… must be a bad sign. Either that, or you fell asleep somewhere. Certainly not in the living room, because there’s no trace of you other than the crumpled blankets and the remote control tossed to the corner of the couch.
He shrugs off his coat, leaving it on one of the chairs by the dining table and peers around, wondering where you’d gone. Instinctively he heads straight towards his bedroom — you might be taking a nap there.
He knocks lightly on the closed door before opening it carefully, slowly, in case he wakes you. Then he hears you call his name. The tone in your voice isn’t one of anger or disappointment.
In fact, it’s the opposite. You sound… mischievous, playful. Even a little naughty.
Almost like you’d planned something completely unexpected for him, and you’d been waiting for him to come in, like a predator waiting for prey to fall into its trap.
And when he steps in, Zayne all but forgets to breathe.
++++++
Leaving you alone in his apartment for twelve hours had left you with plenty of time to devise a surprise for your boyfriend. Your spark of inspiration came when you decided you’d do the poor man a favour and sort out his laundry for him since he can’t even afford the time to eat the lunch he’d so painstakingly prepared for that afternoon.
And when you came across the freshly washed spare doctor’s coat in the pile of clean clothes, you were immediately drawn to it like a moth to a flame. You ran your fingers over the thick, wrinkled fabric, a smile playing on your lips when you think about how far he’s come in his career.
And when you put it on, the scent of detergent and warmth enveloping you, an idea so brilliant, so devious, popped into your head.
After all, you’d already come over to his home already prepared with a new set of black lacy lingerie for him to tear off of you, and this coat would go perfectly with it.
The look on Zayne’s face when he steps into his bedroom and his eyes fall on you is absolutely delightful. You see a myriad of emotions flicker in his eyes: confusion, surprise, bewilderment…
And then his gaze becomes hungry. Sinful. Heat pools in your centre as his gaze falls on your body, examining every single inch of you. You can already tell from his dilated pupils that in his mind, he’s ravaging you, kissing you senseless and tasting every drop of you, and god you can already anticipate how rough he’s going to be with you when you let him have his way.
But first, you’re going to have some fun with this.
Zayne approaches the bed, each footstep almost echoing in your ears and mirroring your accelerating heartbeat and you prop yourself up on your elbows, clicking your tongue and shaking your head at the man.
“You’re late for your appointment, Zayne. I’m almost off my shift now.”
“I apologise. I was held up at work because of an emergency.”
“I wish you would prioritise your health the way you do with your work.”
Your lips curl into a knowing smile, and so does his, although his smile looks a little more defeated.
“Using my words against me now?”
“Maybe. But I don’t have time for small talk. I’m supposed to have a date with my boyfriend and he’s waiting for me at home, so let’s make this quick.”
Zayne cocks an eyebrow but says nothing as you sit up and tap the empty spot next to you on the bed.
“Lie down. We need to do a routine examination.”
Surprisingly, Zayne does as he’s told without protest. You feel the bed dip with his weight when he sits down, and you swallow nervously when he stares at you up close, eyes darting down towards your lips and raking down your figure. His gaze is smouldering and you feel your cheeks warm as the corner of his lips turn up.
“Like what you see?” you can’t resist the urge to ask.
“It would be more appropriate to ask your boyfriend that, Doctor.”
Right, right.
You clear your throat, trying to get back into the roleplay. With Zayne now lying comfortably on the bed, you scooch over, placing your hand over his chest.
“Checking for my pulse? Where’s your stethoscope?”
You roll your eyes at him. “I don’t need one to know that your heart is racing right now. Do you feel uncomfortable? Any chest pains?”
“Yes, it does hurt a little.”
“Where?” You experimentally press on his left pec. “Here?” You shift your hand downward slightly. “Or here?”
“No.” Zayne grabs your wrist then, and without warning, pulls you down with a hard tug. You lose your balance, falling straight towards him and you barely manage to stop yourself from giving him a headbutt when your left hand plants itself into the mattress right by his face.
In this position, you’re now mere inches away from his lips, and his piercing gaze doesn’t leave your eyes as he re-positions your right hand on his chest.
“Here.” You feel his strong heartbeat beneath your fingers, and the warmth of his breath fanning across your face. Just a little closer and you’ll be able to taste his lips and lose yourself in his passionate, fiery kisses.
He’s clearly thinking the same thing as you, eyes falling to your parted lips. He sucks in a sharp breath when your tongue wets your lips — a habit of yours when you’re nervous. And then you feel his free hand come up to rest on the nape of your neck to pull you in, closer and closer to him.
It’d be so tempting to just give up now, to let him have his way with you and to get that quality time and intimacy you’ve been craving all day now. In fact, you’ve been waiting a whole week for this, because lately Zayne has been too busy and today was the only day you could squeeze in a precious date with him.
But that’s also the reason why you want to enjoy this to the fullest. After all, it’s not often that Zayne is so indulgent with you in bed.
At the last second, you regain your senses and place your right hand over his mouth, putting an unceremonious halt to his attempt to kiss you. His lips graze the surface of your palm and that’s enough to make goosebumps rise on your arms.
“If your chest hurts, let’s take a closer look, shall we? I’ll need you to take your shirt off.”
60 notes
·
View notes
Text
"What's it like to be filled with dread? Dreadfully."
Dazai Osamu x reader
This was not supposed to happen. He had gone over every part of the plan and had backup responses in case things went wrong, but not for this. Never for this.
You were not supposed to be there and Dazai could only watch as you jumped out from behind a column, where he had left you after you chased after him.
God, you were stubborn. He should have known, should have considered that, but you were too impulsive, too irrational. Quick to jump the gun and ask questions later.
The sound of the gunshot replayed in his ears like a broken record. He could only stand and watch as blood began to soak your shirt, right by your abdomen on your left side. But it was your scream that haunted him. His mind raced, his heart pumped blood through his veins, and adrenaline flooded his senses. Dread filled him as he saw the pool of blood growing around your fallen body.
Yosano was not here, but he knew that when the blood reached a certain amount, there was nothing that could be done.
Your pained gasp brought him back to his senses. His knees buckled and he crawled over to you. His gun fell to the ground, but he did not care. He was open and vulnerable to be killed, but he would gladly die if it meant staying next to you.
His hands cradled your head, heavy and pale, as a string of blood left your mouth and your eyes focused on him. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry… Osamu… I'm sorry…" Your breath quickened as the pain shot through your body. A small cry escaped your lips, and your eyes watered as they focused on Dazai. His hands shook as he reached over to place a hand on your wound and apply pressure, earning a cry from you as your face twisted in pain and sweat gathered on your forehead.
"I know, I know, shh shh, you're okay… you're okay, just breathe, please." He did not realize that the fighting was still going on, the ringing in his ears too loud. He could feel that he was losing you. He had killed enough people to know when they were too far gone. But he held onto hope and thought about Yosano. His hand slipped into his pocket, gripping his phone, but his hands were too shaky and the phone slipped from his grasp, now covered in blood.
For the first time, the sight of blood made his gut twist. Your blood. His attention returned to your face, your eyes turning glassy as you cried freely. The hand he had on your stomach was now deep crimson and slippery, but he pressed harder. This time, you did not gasp in pain, and he felt panic rise in his chest.
He turned to you, a panicked expression on his face as he felt like a knife was twisting in his heart. You looked at him, your panicked face mirroring his. "I can't…" Your eyes turned misty and tears gathered in them. "I can't feel your touch." Your voice came out softly, barely above a whisper, but it resonated harshly in Dazai's ears. "I don't want to die, Osamu." Your eyes were full of terror as you came to grips with your situation. Dazai felt his heart breaking, his chest tightening until he couldn't breathe quite right.
"No, no, please, breathe, you're okay." His voice broke as he clung to your hand, his eyes searching around the chaos for his phone, his breaths ragged and short. "I can call Yosano… she'll heal you in no time, please just hold on for me, please." Tears blurred his vision and he wiped them away angrily, your blood coating his face. The smell of iron filled his nose, and he felt sick. Tears fell from your eyes as you sobbed softly in his arms. The blood was too much.
His eyes snapped to yours, watching the life in your eyes slowly vanish. "I love y-" Your voice faded out before you could finish, your life draining out of you in crimson streams, pooling around him and swallowing him whole. "No, no, please…" He let himself fall onto you, his cries muffled by your chest, the feeling of your body pressed against his. "Not you too, please… don't leave me too."
Time slowed to a stop. The ringing in his ears became louder. Dread filled his lungs and his mind.
You were gone. And this time, it was his fault.
I felt like trying my hand at angst. I used a part of the baseline test from the movie Blade Runner 2049. Hope I did it right. Do message me with any thoughts or improvements for the future or this fic in particular!
#bsd dazai#bsd x reader#bsd#bungo stray dogs#dazai osamu#osamu x reader#osamu dazai#dazai x reader#dazai x y/n
59 notes
·
View notes
Text
just my unstructured thoughts on “complicated and sad”
I’m not huge on radiostatic and haven’t thought about the dynamic as much as other people so probably I’ll be retreading common ground
radiostatic friendship had to have broken up for smth more ideological, it would honestly be a bit boring/disappointing if it was just over the unrequited romance aspect (but it was likely a contributing factor)
the fact that vox asked alastor to join his team gives a few clues
I think atp vox still thought positively of alastor while alastor’s opinion of vox was starting to deteriorate. Vox respected alastor enough to *ask* him to join, rather than manipulate or try to force him
if that’s the case, then whatever vox did that alastor hated likely wasn’t malicious (but knowing vox, it was still a bad/harmful thing)
it seems like the kind of situation where alastor showed discomfort and vox refused to change and didn’t understand what he was so mad about
what could vox have done that alastor disliked so much that it ruined a previously good friendship?
using people? Alastor does that
owning souls? Alastor does that
killing people? Alastor does that
associating with and enabling ppl like val? Maybe? It seems like an arbitrary line to draw, altho one of the comics shows alastor killing an attempted rapist
influencing people’s perception of them through media? Alastor does that, but maybe it was the difference of method that he didn’t like (hypnosis vs charisma)
being fake? Alastor does that but is better at it than vox (smiling to hide weakness)
being weak*? (*not just physically) Now we’re talking. Alastor hates weakness, both in other people and himself. He hates when people let their composure slip and tries to exploit any weakness he sees. Maybe it disgusted him to see someone he thought was strong actually prove to be weak, insecure, and pathetic
a combination of the last three seems the most plausible to me (especially considering what things alastor disses vox for in stayed gone), but I’m still struggling to come up with something that has the right amount of “oomph” to it
I’m curious what alastor initially liked about vox in the first place?
did he only like him bc he thought vox was stronger than he actually was?
has vox just changed so much over the years that the vox alastor formed a friendship with was basically a different person? That would make me curious about what sparked that change in vox—was it a particular incident or gradual corruption?
does alastor hate modernity because of vox or does he hate vox because of his modernity?
leaning twds the former, the way alastor speaks abt tech has a personal tinge to it
most of vox’s hostility twds alastor is prob due to what alastor did as rejection
supported by vox not having much variety of his insults in stayed gone
yes he’s pathetic and might be salty that he doesn’t return his feelings, but I feel like that’s not the whole explanation
does “I thought he was gone *for good* too” imply that alastor has previously disappeared or been shooed away by the vees and came back soon after?
“he owes us a lot more than money” + “things have changed a lot since he left town… …I gotta send a message of who’s really in charge of things now” = before he disappeared, alastor was previously in control, possibly by sabotaging the vees and overthrowing them?
I didn’t rlly mention “still pissed he almost beat you that time?” bc that had to have been after the fallout, so not as much to dig into there (this isn’t to say that I don’t desperately want a flashback of it lol)
hmmmmmmmnfgh… so many questions
I really hope their backstory has already been mostly planned out, bc it seems like something that would go poorly if you just made it up on the fly
54 notes
·
View notes
Text
Elie Mystal covered the ridiculous, “Presidential Immunity” (aka, “Why Can’t Trump Be Treated Like A Dictator?”) case before SCOTUS
Dreeben: "BECAUSE THERE WEREN'T CRIMES!" (he didn't yell, I did, but he said "because there weren't crimes." )
Oh God, now Roberts wondering if they should send it back to the DC circuit because he's worried about presidents getting prosecuted in bad faith.
Roberts: "The court of appeals did not get into a focused consideration of what facts we're talking about or what documents we're talking about... they did not look at what courts usually look at when... taking away immunity."
Is this motherfucker serious? His argument is "Every president coups, why is mine getting charged?"
Thomas: Are you saying there's no immunity even for official acts?
And... that could be the ballgame
Roberts, Gorsuch, and Kavanaugh are more worried about a prosecutor going after a president for *political* reasons than A PRESIDENT TRYING TO OVERTHROW THE GOVERNMENT.
This is just about over.
And by "this" I mean the rule of law and by "over" I mean delayed indefinitely to help Trump.
Gorsuch suggesting that under the government's standard a president could be prosecuted for leading a "civil rights protest" in front of Congress and sought to "influence an official proceeding."
Yes, because Jan 6 and a fucking sit in are the same thing, Neil.
This is goddamn disgusting.
I'm going to keep listening because it is my literal job, but this is pretty much in the bag for Trump at this point. Remand to DC Circuit for decision on "official acts" and whether organizing a coup is one.
After November, if Trump loses, SCOTUS will return to the issue.
Alito: Are you really saying the president is subject to criminal laws like everybody else?
YES YOU DICK. THE PRESIDENT SHOULD BE SUBJECT TO THE LAWS LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE!
Alito: "I'm not talking about the particular facts of this case."
WHY? WHY THE HELL ARE NOT TALKING ABOUT THIS FUCKING CASE RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU?
The question I'd have for the SCOTUS now is: If you do this, why would a Republican president every peacefully transfer power again?
Democratic presidents will because Democrats follow rules that don't apply to the other side. But why would Republicans just leave *ever again*?
Alito: Couldn't FDR's decision to inter Japanese Americans during WWII be charged [as a crime]?
He says that LIKE THAT'S A BAD THING?
And Dreeben is trying to say that he couldn't.
This country, and specifically this court, is a fucking joke.
Now onto self-pardons. Alito is just playing all the Fox News hits now.
I'm going to smoke. Biden should send Seal Team 6 to Mar-a-Lago because according to Alito there's no downside.
Alito just suggested that the last election was "questionably decided"
I have left my body and am texting things I can't say aloud to my friends.
Kagan is like the first person to be asking about the actual criminal acts Trump is charged with.
I assume Alito is not listening because Kagan is a woman while Gorsuch is probably sitting there emailing the New York Times because they got something wrong on the Spelling Bee.
I see the internet is unimpressed with Dreeben but that's being a little unfair. The Republican justices want to do this, there's nothing that Dreeben could say to stop them.
What he *could* be doing was making their hypocrisy more clear for the non-legal media following along.
But... SCOTUS advocates have to preserve their ability to argue another day, and blowing up the justices in one case
A: Doesn't help them actually win the case.
B: Actively hurts them in the next one.
Kavanaugh: "Like Justice Gorsuch, I'm not concerned with the here and now of this case, I'm concerned about the future."
I don't know why this is acceptable. I do know that the justices are sure they are right about ignoring the facts of THIS ACTUAL CASE.
Kavanaugh... who WORKED FOR KEN STARR... is basically saying that Jack Smith is politically motivated and his appoint in unconstitutional.
It's... maddening. And most of the media reports will not even point out this hypocrisy.
The "independent counsel" law was rewritten into our current "special counsel" law BECAUSE of the shit Kavanaugh helped Starr do! Everybody was like "that crap can't happen again."
Somebody get @neal_katyal and @MonicaLewinsky on the phone to blow up this asshole.
@neal_katyal @MonicaLewinsky Every time I try to no have a stroke listening to this bullshit, they say something even more risible and stupid.
@neal_katyal @MonicaLewinsky Kavanaugh: "President Ford's pardon. Hugely unpopular when he did it... now probably looked on as one of his better decisions."
What? WHAT? WHO THE FUCK THINKS FORD'S PARDON OF NIXON WAS A GOOD IDEA? WHEN DID I DIE AND GO TO HELL????
@neal_katyal @MonicaLewinsky This could be a men v. women 5-4 ruling.
Men: Let's kick this back to DC to further delay Trump's trial.
Soto, Kagan, Jackson: Why? That's fucking dumb.
Barrett: Ladies, I agree with you, but we shouldn't call the men fucking dumb. We should politely disagree.
@neal_katyal @MonicaLewinsky We're past the two and half hour mark for an argument where the Republican justices made their decision when they were appointed, some of them decades ago.
@neal_katyal @MonicaLewinsky KBJ is closing by trying to answer all of Gorsuch's questions, which would be effective if Gorsuch operated in good faith. But... he doesn't. So...
@neal_katyal @MonicaLewinsky I had hoped that *one* of the liberal justices would have made the point from the Common Cause brief, highlighting that the whole point of what Republican justices are doing is to give Trump delay.
Not a persuasive argument for the justices, but good for the media to hear.
@neal_katyal @MonicaLewinsky The case is submitted. Court doesn't come back till May 9th which will be a decision day.
But I think they won't decide *this* case until July 3rd for max delay. And that decision will be 5-4 to remand the case back to DC, for additional delay.
@neal_katyal @MonicaLewinsky I wish I had better news for you. Thanks anyway for following along with our national descent into madness.
59 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
kitcorin
Kit's art blog
shadowspronouns
haha. flushed em down the terlet
popcorn-doodles
popcorn-doodles
themusewithinthemusewithout
All Things Beautiful And Devastating
ygbaes
VIP