#just join the space and then you can hear them

[sequinsmile-x]

Quality Time

She missed her husband, even though he was right there with her.

Part of the Love Languages series

-x-

Hi besties,

This is just...pure fluff really because that is all my brain was capable of after a very busy few days at work.

This is just these two idiots being idiots for each other.

I really hope you like it, as always please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: pregnancy

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

It’s late when he gets home. 

He feels the tension in his shoulders start to ease the moment he steps over the threshold into the house, the sense of home washing over him as he closes the door behind him, locking out anything other than his family on the other side. 

He pauses as he turns from the door when he hears the low hum of the television. He checks his watch and frowns when he realises just how late it is, surprised that anyone is still awake. He walks towards the living room, a purpose in his step, and as he gets closer he realises it’s one of his wife’s favourite reality TV shows, something she’d sworn him to secrecy over when they first started dating. He half expects to find Emily asleep on the couch, slumped over with her hand pressed against her stomach after she’d lost the battle against sleep to stay up for him, but instead when he walks in she’d wide awake, her focus torn from the TV as he enters the room. 

“Hi honey,” she says, sitting up a little straighter when he walks over, one of her hands on her baby bump as she kisses him before he joins her on the couch, slipping under her legs as she raises them just enough for him to sit, “You made good time.” 

“Traffic wasn’t bad,” he replies, squeezing her foot, smiling softly when she groans in pleasure, “You didn’t have to wait up.” 

She shrugs like it’s nothing, like she wasn’t just shy of 8 months pregnant and constantly exhausted, “It’s okay, I wanted to see you.” 

He frowns, seeds of concern planting deep in his chest, her tone of voice, the way she was holding herself tightly, both of her hands on her bump as she absentmindedly drew patterns on it. 

“You’re tired. I wouldn’t have minded if you’d just gone to bed, I’ll be here in the morning anyway.”

She scoffs, unable to stop herself, hormones, exhaustion and irritation she knows he doesn’t deserve swirling in her gut, “Yeah, if you didn’t get called away for a case.” 

His concern for her immediately gets worse, the flowers of it taking up all the space in his chest, burning against his lungs as she tries to figure out what is wrong. She’d been okay when they spoke earlier, relieved even when he told her that they were about to fly home. It’s a flash of his past life, a momentary collision of his marriage to Haley forcing its way into his marriage to Emily. 

She’d never had an issue with his job, with their job, and she understood the unpredictable nature of it. Things had been different lately since she’d stopped going on cases with the team, he knew that, and he knew she missed being a part of it. 

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” 

She blows out a breath, embarrassment at her outburst colouring her cheeks, and she shakes her head, “Nothing. Sorry, I think I’m just hormonal,” she flashes a tight smile at him, “Your kid is ruining me.” 

He squeezes her foot again to get her attention after her failed attempt to deflect, his face nothing but kind as he looks expectantly at her, their promise to never lie to each other on the tip of his tongue, “Em…”

She looks down at her bump and clenches her teeth, desperately trying to stave off the tears she can feel pressing at the back of her eyes. Pregnancy had left her on a razor's edge, everything sharp and making her prone to breaking down at the tiniest thing. It was driving her crazy, irritation at herself that only ever seemed to make things worse, her head swimming with emotion she was trying and failing to push down. 

“I…” she says, clearing her throat when her voice wavers, shaking her head at herself as she chuckles humourlessly, removing a hand from her bump to wipe tears from her cheek, “I just miss you,” she says, wiping away another tear. She shrugs as she avoids eye contact with him, embarrassed in a way she doesn’t understand, her love for him overwhelming even after all this time. “That’s all.” 

“Em,” he says softly, moving closer to place a hand on her knee, squeezing gently as she looks up at him, his smile gentle as their eyes meet, “I’m right here.” 

She blows out a breath and rubs her hand over her belly as she feels the baby move, a constant reminder these days that she isn’t alone. She’d spent so much of her life chasing something exactly like this - a family to call her own. She had Aaron and Jack and the baby and she always would. 

She’d never be alone again. 

“I know. I think it’s because you’re going on cases and I’m not. I miss spending time just the two of us - which we never got a whole lot of anyway,” she smiles, an edge of sadness mixed in with the happiness as she reaches for his hand and places it on her stomach where the baby is kicking, “And we’re about to have even less of it.” 

She’d stopped going on cases earlier than she’d originally intended. Pregnancy had been much harder on her than she’d anticipated, the nausea in the first trimester giving way almost immediately to exhaustion when it faded away. She’d wanted to carry on, content to sit in precincts and work on victimology because it made her feel useful, like she was still contributing to the team, but Aaron and her doctor convinced her it was time to stay home just as she turned 6 months pregnant. She hated that they were right, that she felt better for it, and she mostly hated that it meant she saw less of her husband than she was used to. 

Since the start of their relationship, they’d spent practically all of their time together. It was clear from their first date that they were it for each other, a type of pull she knew she’d never felt before, her love for him overwhelming from even before their first kiss. They spent all their spare time together, she slept at his most nights - content to hang out with him and Jack until the little boy went to bed and then they’d get some time alone. Despite initially saying they wouldn’t, they snuck into each other’s rooms on cases before they told the team about their relationship. They were both aware that they slept better with the other there, a type of peace neither of them thought they’d ever experience again. 

She missed him. Their bed felt bare without him, their choice of buying a super king even though they snuggled, more than half the bed empty even with them both in it, feeling all the more absurd when it was just her and her pregnancy pillow in it. Occasionally Jack would sneak in and join her, his small hands on her face as he woke her to tell her he’d had a bad dream. She’d feel guilty by feeling relieved when she had him there with her, the little boy she loved as her own pressed up against her whilst her baby shifted under her skin. 

Aaron smiles softly at her, rubbing his hand on her bump for a moment longer before he links their fingers together and lifts their joint hands to his mouth. He presses a delicate kiss to her knuckles and it gets her attention, her eyes meet his again, and he tucks some of her hair behind her ear. 

“Sweetheart,” he says softly, “I miss you too.” 

Even though it was almost six weeks since she stopped going away on cases he still found himself looking for her, his eyes flitting around a room she wasn’t in to look for her reassurance, for the love she always freely gave him. He missed having her there, her smile sometimes the only good thing that would happen to him on a hard day at work. He found it difficult to sleep in hotel beds that she wasn’t in with him, her weight against his chest, her breath skipping across his neck as she slept, both as essential to him for a good night's sleep as a dark room and a decent mattress. 

She was his safety net. His port in a storm. And whilst he was excited for this next step in their life, close to desperate sometimes to meet their baby, to see the face he’d imagined for months, he knew he’d miss this stage. 

She smiles sadly at him and stamps a kiss against his lips before she rests her head on his shoulder, “Sorry I kind of ruined the mood the moment you got home.” 

“You could never ruin the mood,” he assures her, turning his head to kiss her temple. He tugs her in closer, a tightness in his chest that had been there for days easing now she was in his arms, and he feels an idea start to form, a smile spreading across his face as he pulls back to look at her, “Why don’t we go somewhere? Just the two of us.”

She hums, her eyebrows knitting together as she looks him up and down, “What? Like a babymoon?” 

He frowns, tilting his head as their eyes meet, confusion painted across his face in a way that she finds nothing short of adorable, “What the hell is a babymoon?” 

She chuckles and runs her fingers through his hair, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she tries to tamper down her amusement, “It’s a trip you go on before the baby comes. Pen was telling me about them.” 

He smiles and nods, “Then yes, exactly like a babymoon,” he says, not missing how her smile gets wider as he says it, “We could go to Virginia Beach. Get a rental right near the water. Spend some time just you and me before this little one joins us and life gets a lot busier.” 

She wants to do it more than anything, wants to spend some uninterrupted time away with him, something they hadn’t done since their honeymoon almost 8 months ago, but she sighs, the reality of their lives causing anxiety to spike in her chest. 

“What about work? We’re both taking some time off when the baby comes, I don’t want it to be a problem.”  

Aaron squeezes her hand reassuringly, “Em, we both have enough leave days banked to take a year off if we wanted to,” he says, smiling when she nods, “If you want to do this we’ll do it. I’ll book us a place to stay tonight.” 

She doesn’t have to think about it, doesn’t have to mull it over anymore and she nods, kissing him fiercely as she leans in. 

“Yes,” she says, kissing him again before she pulls away, “I want to go away with you,” her words disappear into a laugh as he pulls her in for a hug, her bump pressed up against his side, as he kisses her temple. She sinks into it, into him and wraps her arms around him, her cheek against his shoulder as she sighs, a relaxed feeling washing over her for the first time in weeks, “If you think about it, it’s perfect timing.” 

He furrows his brow as he pulls back to look at her, curiosity sparking in his eyes as she tries to suppress a smile, a hint of mischievousness in it that never fails to make his stomach swoop, “What do you mean, sweetheart?” 

Her smile only gets wider, “Well you got me pregnant on our honeymoon,” she says, shrugging playfully, “It seems like a nice way to bookend the pregnancy.” 

“Em.”

___

He knows they’ve made the right decision the moment they get to their vacation rental. 

She’s instantly more relaxed than she has been in weeks, a softness to her smile that makes him want to call up the owner of the beach house and offer to buy it off of him. 

“I can help with the bags you know,” she says, her eyebrow raised at him as he gets their bags out of the trunk of their car, her pregnancy pillow tucked under his arm as he shuffles towards the stairs leading up to the house. 

“I’ve got it,” he says, ignoring the strain in his back as he makes it up the stairs, smiling at her when she rolls her eyes. He sets down the cases and crouches down to press a kiss to her bump, “You’re already carrying the most important cargo.” 

She chuckles wryly and runs her fingers through his hair, fighting a smile as he kisses her bump again, “You’re ridiculous,” she says, shaking his head as he straightens back up, her gaze drifting to where her pillow was still tucked under his arm, “If you drop my pregnancy pillow I’ll kill you, and we both know I’d be able to - even if I am the most pregnant person to ever exist.” 

He clears his throat, well aware that whilst her threat was playful she’d be mad if she thought he was laughing at her.

“Yes, sweetheart,” he says, kissing her again before he digs through his pockets for the key to the house. He unlocks the door and pushes it open, his hand splayed on her lower back as he guides her in, “Why don’t you look around, make yourself comfortable, and I’ll get everything in from the car. The owner said his wife would leave lemonade and homemade cookies.”

Her eyes light up and she looks down at her stomach, already walking into the house before she replies, her focus on their unborn child, “Did you hear that, baby? Cookies!” 

When he’s done bringing in their things, the suitcases carried up to the bedroom and her pillow diligently placed on her side of the bed, he finds her on the back porch sitting in the swing, her gaze fixed on the ocean and the seemingly unending horizon. She turns to look at him as he steps out, her smile wry as he unfolds a blanket as he joins her, laying it over both of their laps, making sure her bump is covered, when he sits down. 

“It’s not even cold out,” she says, wrapping both her arms around one of his, her hand squeezing gently at his tricep as she lays her head against his shoulder. 

“I know,” he replies, resting his cheek against the top of her head, “But I’ve got to look after the two of you,” he adds, placing his hand on her bump, smiling at the movement of the baby, something that got no less amazing no matter how often he felt it, “So,” he says, kissing Emily’s forehead before he pulls back to look at her, “We have four days to do whatever we want.” 

She hums and tilts her head to look up at him, the reality of being here with him, the next few days stretched out ahead of them washing over her, “I’d like to say we could have a crazy amount of sex and barely leave the house,” she laments, “But I think all I want to do is nap, eat and sit right here with you.” 

“Then that’s exactly what we’ll do,” he assures her, resting his hand on her neck, his thumb tracing her jawline, “As long as I’m with you I don’t mind what we do,” he says, leaning in to kiss the tip of her nose, “And, I have it under good authority that a restaurant just down the street has to die for mac and cheese and they deliver.”

She moans, the sound turning into a delighted laugh as she closes her eyes, “You really know what a pregnant woman loves to hear.” 

He hums, kissing her forehead before he lets his hand fall back to her bump, “Maybe I just really know my wife.” 

She can’t explain the feeling that swells in her chest, threatening to pull her under as tears press at the back of her eyes. It was moments like this, moments when it was just him and her and their love for each other when she let herself feel the happiness she never thought she’d get, let herself bask in it. 

She wasn’t lucky, this hadn’t fallen into her lap. She’d fought for this. Fought to get here and sometimes she’d lost, tripped and fell as the battle seemed too much, but she’d made it here. Made it to him, and he’d done the same to make it to her. They’d endured so much apart, but she knew whatever came next, the good and the bad, they’d face together. 

She cups his cheek and rubs her thumb back and forth over his skin, “You’re the love of my life, you know,” she says, her cheeks warm with love and a hint of embarrassment, “I can’t imagine wanting to do any of this with anyone else.” 

“You’re the love of my life too,”  he says, and he places his hand over hers on his cheek and leans in to kiss her, “I can’t imagine doing it with anyone else either,” he says, frowning at himself when he says it, realising it sounds clumsy because he had done it with someone else. 

A shaky breath escapes him, her admission not new but unexpected in the moment, their conversation about her favourite pregnancy food suddenly turning into more. He loved her so much it hurt sometimes. It was different to how he’d loved Haley. They’d grown up together, had initially grown together and then apart, both of them still in love with a version of themselves that no longer existed. He and Emily loved each other for who they were, for what they’d gone through, and he knew he’d have it for the rest of his life. 

He sighs at himself and shakes his head, “I mean-”

“I know what you mean,” she says softly, cutting him off as she presses her thumb into his lower lip, “I’m glad we came here.” 

He rests his forehead against hers, “Me too.” 

They sit there for a few moments in silence, the only sound the waves crashing against the shore in the background. The moment comes to an end when her stomach audibly makes a noise that makes them both laugh, the baby almost moving in tandem. 

“I think baby wants some of that mac and cheese,” she says, leaning into his palm when he wipes away a stray tear that had escaped her lashline. 

He chuckles, pressing a kiss against her lips before he kisses her bump. He stands up to find the stack of take-out menus the owner had left out, but she stops him, her hand tight around his as if she didn’t want him to go, “I’ll be right back.” 

She sighs and relents, letting go of him before she winks at him, “Make sure to bring me some of those cookies on your way back.” 

“Anything you want, sweetheart,” he says as he steps back into the house, “Absolutely anything.” 

-x-

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[127luvr]

Hi can i ask for a male reader x doyoung, where they're both in school and they have an assignment to sing a duet, but doyoung just really chose m!r so that they can spend more time together. Then they kiss?

kiss ♫⋆｡♪ ₊

kim doyoung x male reader

doyoung had never questioned his life in music. he knew from a young age where he was headed--what path in life he wanted to pursue. he breathed music like it was his lifeline. it was the one thing in his life he never second-guessed. he knew he was good at it. at singing--at reading music--at conducting his class for an assignment--at teaching it when he became a student-teacher.

he was born for this.

you weren't as lucky.

the passion for music came from watching a performance of your school choir by chance. you were convinced that you were destined to pass by the auditorium at that very moment--destined to hear the way the ensemble blended their voices together so seamlessly--as if it was a body of water collectively sending waves to shore.

it was too late in the year to join the ensemble you heard, but you managed to squeeze in to one of the beginner classes. it was one of the things in life that you took seriously. staying after school for any extra help from upperclassmen. staying behind to see the rigorous practices that the advanced classes had. while you were graced with a natural talent for music, you still had so much to learn.

which is why you were the most excited when they assigned duets. the only strict rule being that it had to be someone that was in the choir program.

doyoung had taken a liking to you. watching you from the corner of his eye when you sat in one of their after-school practices. he watched the way your pencil followed along the sheet music as they sang, circling the dynamics on top--and underneath--the staff. he watched as your body followed the conductor's baton--watched as you sang along subconsciously to your voice part in the song. he knew without a doubt that he had to choose you for a duet.

he just wasn't entirely sure if it was for his own selfish reasons or for your raw talent.

"(y/n)?" you feel a light tap on your shoulder, the sudden sensation startling you. your binder slips out of your hands when you turn to doyoung, his nearness surprising you further. you can't help but gawk at him, ignoring the way your sheet music spills out of the binder on the floor. doyoung's eyes fall to the floor, his lips twitching slightly as he goes to pick it up for you. you are still watching him as he bends down, his long fingers quick with gathering your materials. you manage to look away as he straightens his posture again, holding his hands out to hand you your binder. "i know we aren't really familiar with each other, but did you want to team up for the duet assignment?"

he was one of the upperclassmen. one of the singers that stood out to you when you watched them practice. the critiques he received from directors were nitpick-y. always something about rounding out his vowels--looking more expressive. it was clear that they only picked on him for small things because they weren't able to find anything he was bad at. he didn't need to improve--but he did need to be pushed just like his classmates.

"yeah!"

you quickly realize that doyoung isn't in it for the music. he knows the song inside and out from the get-go. leaving you to scramble and learn the song even when you're not practicing together. this only makes you wonder what he was in it for. why he chose you of all people?

your practices were usually done in the school practice rooms. preferably one with an old piano in it--sometimes you weren't as lucky. but you watched as doyoung's eyes moved faster than his fingers, reading the music as he played the black and white piano keys. you were almost jealous of his talents. envious of his ability to multitask so effortlessly but he interprets your gaze differently. patting the space on the bench next to him so you could sit--instead of standing with your back to the wall, stiff.

"i like to learn the notes by playing them and then singing them. makes it easier to correct. do you want to try?" your hands hover over the keys, scared to play any of them incorrectly. if you were being honest, you only knew the name of the notes on your phone, where the keys were labeled. "here, i'll show you."

you don't expect doyoung to put his hands on top of yours, guiding them to where he was previously playing. but the piano is the last thing on your mind. instead, thoughts of doyoung's soft skin and dainty fingers replace any and all rational thoughts from your brain.

"the note in between these black keys is d. if you look at the piano you will notice that the pattern repeats over and over again, so the notes only go a, b, c, d, e, f and g. and then back to a. the black keys are semitones--flat or sharp. it just depends on what key we're in, you know?" doyoung finally takes note of your flushed face, his hands immediately clammy on top of yours as he watches you chew your bottom lip anxiously. "(y/n)? did you get any of that?"

"uh-"

"is there a way for me to keep you concentrated?" your gaze drops down to his pouty lips, subconsciously licking your own as you stare them down. this doesn't go unnoticed by doyoung--who has been yearning for your affection since your practices together started. "kissing you?"

for a moment you thought you had shared your thoughts out loud--only to find that your lips were still shut. doyoung was the first to bring up a kiss. that could only mean that he wanted to. that it crossed his mind before it crossed yours. he leans in, with his hands still on top of yours. you're aware of his nearness. the way his cool breath hits your cupid's bow. the way he smells like baby powder--and a little bit like sweat from being in this room for so long. your eyes finally meet again which causes him to tilt his head, raising his eyebrows as if to ask you for a second time.

"here?" but you're the first one to close the gap, the first to meet your lips together. completely disregarding the glass door. completely disregarding that someone might walk by. but none of it matters--not when doyoung's lips feel heavenly. and he's drinking you up like you're a glass of iced tea on a hot summer day. you almost don't want to pull away. wanting to stay in his warmth even if the positioning was awkward. "we can practice at my place next time."

#HELLOOOOO #im loving all of the doyoung requests #he's my little bunny #i was in choir for like 7+ years #my knowledge might be limited idk i miss learning about music #nct #nct u #nct 127 #nct dojaejung #nct x male reader #x male reader #kim doyoung #doyoung x male reader #<3

[eyesfullofsttars]

☆ obsessed with the idea of ellie & abby being mothers

synopsis: a few headcanons of abigail and ellie being mothers, from the way they raise the baby to the smallest details!!!

notes: hiii!!! i've just been thinking about these two being mothers for the past few days and this came up—sorry if it's simple or too dumb. (don't take it too seriously pls)

I'm still not sure whether they would prefer having a girl or a boy. It seems it wouldn't matter much to them, as they would raise the baby the same way regardless. However, these two are mothers of a boy!!!

They speak to their baby as though he were a responsible adult who understands everything perfectly and frown when someone uses a high-pitched voice or baby talk.

Abby is the one who always gets up in the middle of the night if the baby cries. She automatically wakes up and goes to see what's wrong with her son.

Meanwhile, Ellie doesn't wake up at night, but she reads a dinosaur book to the baby before bed, tucks him in, and gives him a goodnight kiss on the forehead.

Ellie is enthusiastic about her baby, playing energetically and carefree, tickling him, putting him on her shoulders, and playing with his hands. She's proud of her baby and believes he's the best.

Abby is not so calm, paying attention to her son's safety. She comes from a family of doctors —she's a doctor herself— and watches Ellie carefully whenever she holds the baby. Abby feels the need to keep her son close at all times, either in her strong arms or on her lap, playfully touching his nose or gently stroking his hair.

Ellie can spend hours watching Abby take a nap with their baby. She sees Abby sitting on the couch with the baby on her lap, cuddled against her chest and holding her shirt tightly with his small hand, afraid of losing contact. They breathe softly, calmly together, which Ellie finds adorable — making her feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

At first, Abby worried about seeing Ellie handle the baby so lightly, but she has become accustomed to Ellie's relaxed attitude. Abby watches carefully to avoid accidents, but one of her favorite things is listening to her baby and Els laugh together at something silly Ellie does, causing Abby to laugh too.

Abby "I want to name our son after a writer" Anderson versus Ellie "Let's name our son after a constellation" Williams — Els won!

Ellie helps her son learn to speak by playing her guitar, singing songs about letters, animals, and the names of family and friends.

Abby cheers and celebrates every time she sees the baby trying to stand, keeping his balance by holding onto the couch. She's proud of her little prodigy and also believes her baby is the best.

Ellie lets her son trace the lines of her tattoo and even color the spaces with markers. She accepts without complaint, extending her arm for her child to do his art.

Abby lets her son comb her hair. She loosens her blonde hair and trusts her baby's hands as he tries to comb her long hair, clumsily attempting a braid but failing.

Ellie can't help but swear in front of the baby, as she hasn't managed to change her language yet. She often ends up letting out a curse word, especially when the baby does something that excites her.

She might say something like, “Fuck yeah, you're so intelligent, kiddo!” Or, whenever the baby cries for no reason, Ellie will get completely flustered and not know what to do, like, “What the hell do you want from me, dude? I can't help you if you don't tell me!”

On the other hand, Abby doesn't see the appeal in swearing in front of their son. So, whenever a curse word slips out of Ellie's mouth, Abby quickly exclaims; “Language, Williams!”

No matter where she is in the house, she can always hear Ellie swearing, which ends with Ellie responding with something like, “Fuck, sorry, babe. Shit, right, sorry, buddy. It just comes out like verbal vomit; I can't control it.”

Every time a rock song plays, Ellie can't help but do headbanging, and her son joins her in the fun. Both end up in the kitchen, energetically moving their heads to the music and dancing around.

For every special occasion, such as Valentine's Day, birthdays, or even Easter, Abby doesn't hesitate to buy flowers for Ellie and her son.

Both understand their child perfectly. The child might babble something unintelligible, but they simply nod, comprehending every word.

#ellabs #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #abby anderson #ellie x abby #lesbian #abby tlou #ellie williams fic #abby anderson fic #abby anderson headcanons #ellie williams headcanons #abby headcanons #abby the last of us #tlou abby #ellie and abby #ellie williams tlou #tlou ellie #tlou fic #the last of us fic #ellie williams the last of us #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson fluff #ellie williams fluff #idiots in love #wlw #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams fanfic #abigail anderson #ellie/abby

[byooregard]

drama that I think happens in xaviers school for gifted youngsters. imagine this all as like some sort of yikyak posts im too lazy to format it

"guys living in the west wing isn't that bad you just hate people with mutations that aren't easy to hide and control" "okay but as a telepath the psychic vibes coming from there are sooo hard to be around. I'm always hearing the screams of untold millions coming from one of the rooms (not naming names) and I had to move out because I couldn't sleep"

"why are there so many day students this semester like seriously if your mutation is small enough you can still live at home why are you taking up space from people who *actually* need it" "hey as a day student I got kicked out of three public schools before coming here so maybe you should stop assuming things"

"tbh im just waiting until i get my high school degree and then I'm joining the brotherhood of mutants" "um... aren't those guys terrorists?" "they're only labelled terrorists because society is mutantphobic and the government is so awful at protecting mutants that they have to take extreme measures to protect themselves. you should go out and see real activism instead of the useless shit the x men are doing" "hey guys can we not talk about this magneto killed my dad"

"have you seen some of the new kids here lately. if I didn't know better I'd think they were baselines tbh like nobody cares anymore if your mutation is enhanced strength or cognition go back to public school" "my mutation is my massive cock and balls ;)"

"has anyone actually taken a class with wolverine??? hes always here but i never see him on the course listing??? what does he even do??" "hes the art teacher obviously"

"party tonite in the annex BYOB" "isn't that where the couple with a baby lives???"

"how can someone be a telepath if they can't read minds?? isn't that an oxymoron??" "telepath is an umbrella label that encompasses a lot of thought-based powers--some telepaths feel emotions more than thoughts, some are better at controlling minds than reading them, but a lot still call themselves telepaths because it's easier than listing all the specifics" "uhhh source??" "me? I'm an empathic telepath?"

#x men #x-men #x men movies #x men comics #cleb talky #mcu #marvel comics

[fairy-angel222]

𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

He’s so cocky at first, smirking when you bottom down on his length. “Think you can handle it baby? Take your time if you need to kay? I know it might be too much f’ you.” He chuckles.

You raise a brow in amusement. “Oh i can handle it baby, can you?” Was what you’d first said. And that question hadn’t changed since.

His lips parted in breathy groans and heavy breathing as his hands find your waist. Lips red and swollen from biting them as his eyes looked up at you almost pleadingly. “F-fuck baby.. you’re— shit, going so f-fast. Wanna slow d-down hmm?”

You smile widely, back arching as you lean down to kiss his jaw softly. Giving a false hum in thought. “Mmm.. you can take it.” He lets out the most cry like moan, head falling back into his pillow as his hips jerk upwards. Body trembling lightly when his eyes met yours.

“Shit— please baby. You d-don’t know how fucking- haah.. how fucking tight she’s grippin’ me right now.” He was referring to the way your snug walls stroked up and down his length with every harsh bounce of your hips. “I’m gonna— o-oh fuck, gonna cum again.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at the crack in his voice. Your head tilted to the side as you coo teasingly. “Yeah? Gonna be a good boy n cum f’ me baby?”

He chuckles shakily, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace as his cock twitches inside you. “God i fucking love you— ahh, even when you’re milking my cock like you hate m-me.” His senses were heightened, ears picking up the every squelch on your sopping pussy and his cock feeling every ridge of your gummy walls.

He lost it when you began rolling your hips sensually. Your thighs sticking to his at the mere amount of slick that joined you two. Your wetness and his cum seeping between your folds and down his girth, turning your skilled movements sloppy as you rut your hips.

You brought a hand to his face, using your nail to brush his hair off of his sweaty forehead. “C’ mon.. let it all out.” You smiled sweetly, eyes holding a dark glint when his eyes turn teary. Small beads of water pooling at his lids before he’s crying out your name.

Overly sensitive cock aching as he spills yet another load into you. Pumping the thick white substance till you’re pumped full. The rest of the substance spurting back onto him at the lack of space.

You let out a moan, “Wow baby- there’s so much. Might.. might just be your biggest load yet.” You were getting tired, but you’d never let him know that. You swear you hear him whimper when you capture his lips with yours slowly beginning to rock your hips again.

“Shit— don’t think- d-don’t think i can give you any more baby. Feels like my cock’s gonna f-fall off.” He panted, trying to keep himself together when he felt you jerking him off with your smug walls again. A small tremble raking through his body each time your ass landed back down.

His hand left your waist to cover his reddening face. Unable to hide the cherry shade of his ears and neck as he whimpered yet again. Choking out a string of moans with tears staining his cheeks when you shush him gently, “‘S only one more baby, give me one more.”

You were the only one with the ability to truly break Satoru if you tried.

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk x reader smut

[ozzgin]

Yandere! House Monster x Reader (II)

It’s officially a smutty sitcom: you, the oblivious gamer boyfriend, and the tentacle monster lurking in dark corners.

[First part]

Content: gender neutral reader, monster smut

Do monsters have a sense of humor? This creature seems to be greatly amused by the little "game" you've devised behind your boyfriend's back. Although you don't have much input in the affair, and most of the time you're merely a witness to the events unfolding before you (or in you).

First, there's the mild, inoffensive annoyances. "Babe, did you see my controller? I swear I left it on the couch". Some pranks are harder to swallow than others, such as the occasional lack of Internet. You know exactly when it happens, because you can hear your boyfriend's enraged shouts and rattles. It's always during important matches. No one knows why it happens. The repairmen who cross your threshold can only scratch their heads in confusion, confessing that nothing is out of the ordinary.

Then, the unfortunate coincidences. "How about we have some fun after my game?", the boyfriend will suggest with an anticipative grin. Alas, moments after he stands up, he is overwhelmed by a nauseous feeling. His stomach twirls and throbs, and he curses under his breath. "Some other time, perhaps", he concludes begrudgingly. You see, the creature is very possessive. The only thing that has saved your beloved partner from being torn to shreds already is his crassly comical obliviousness.

The mischief aimed towards the boyfriend is, however, a secondary source of entertainment. Nothing could ever come close to spending time with you. Yet another irony to this ridiculous situation: you haven't been caught yet, despite the rabid clinginess of the tentacled monster.

It just loves surprising you. For example, when you exhale dramatically at the end of the day, relaxing in the bathtub and enjoying your peace. Just as you hear an impatient knock on the door, you notice a familiar dark tendril slithering its way out of the water. You won't be leaving the bathroom anytime soon. "Did you steam yourself over there? You look like a lobster", the boyfriend will remark with a raised eyebrow upon seeing your panting, feverish face. "Y-yeah, I guess so." You limp outside, struggling to hold the towel around your body. Or more specifically, around the many marks left on your skin by hundreds of suckers.

In fact, its shamelessness reminds you of a poorly written erotic scenario, the likes you'd see on some adult website with a clickbait title. How would you name this current setup? You grip the edge of the table, pursing your lips to prevent any moans escaping your mouth. Your boyfriend is, once again, scrolling on his phone, indifferent to your presence. The water boiling on the stove drowns the wet, slippery sounds of the appendages pumping in and out of you underneath the table. “You might want to give it a stir in a moment, or it’ll overflow”, the boyfriend remarks without lifting his gaze. You mumble in agreement, slapping a hand over your mouth. You’re at your limit.

One may be tempted to ask, is this entity bound to its house? You pondered the same question until your recent IKEA visit. You and your boyfriend had been looking for a new wardrobe. "What do you think of this one?", you asked, closing the door and turning around. Your eyes scanned the empty model-bedroom. The jackass had wandered ahead without you. You sighed and were about to go find him, when a cold grip suddenly tightened around your wrist. You winced and snapped your head back. Thick tendrils had made their way out of the closet, tugging you to join them inside. So it can follow you around, you thought, climbing into the cramped space. Between the silent whines and breathy begging, an idea emerges from your dazed mind. New hypothetical video title: mercilessly molested in the IKEA store by monster partner.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #monster x reader #monster x human #monster boyfriend #tentacle monster #monster smut #terato #teratophillia #monster fucker

[lvlyghost]

Tainted Heart

PAIRINGS: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

SUMMARY: After not seeing you for a few weeks, you come back to the base acting strange.

WORD COUNT: 1.9k

TW: sexual themes, smut but not too explicit. anxiety, self-doubt. worried!simon, poor baby thinks he's done something wrong💔comfort and fluff, mind the english!🐸

A/N: okay so yeah, i can't believe I finished this so fast. anyway enjoy!🥹✨🫶🏻💚gif's not mine' iloveyousimonriley!💗

Masterlist✨

You try to even your shaky breathing before opening the door of the meeting room. Taking more than usual to toughen up, the last thing you want is anyone asking if you were okay. Not even your teammates and especially not Simon. Hands trembling when you open and close them, a cold sweat that runs down your spine with the clear signs of anxiety that will soon start to bubble up if you don't get this over with soon.

Another moment passes when all you can hear is your own heart racing in your ears and the world spins for a second; pushing the door open you enter. Everyone's already there, sitting around the wooden table. Four pair of eyes find you, Soap and Gaz smile your way and John nods motioning for you to take your seat next to Ghost. But you can't bring yourself to do it. You need space. You need to be left alone to battle with your own mind. Instead you grab one of the chairs and set it far from them, sitting in the far corner.

Price's eyebrows furrow but doesn't comment on it, merely resuming what he was just telling the rest of the task force. Everyone's attention is back to the Captain except for Ghost. Ghost who's frowning so hard behind the mask at your refusal to join them. It sparks a sense of irritation and worry.

He knows he shouldn't be feeling that way. You are not even together, even if a few nights spent in each other's rooms had taken place, he considered himself something akin to a friend more than just your superior or a few hook ups here and there. Were you important to him? Absolutely yes. He needed to see your eyes, needed you to look his way so he can see through you as he usually does. Your beautiful eyes would tell him what he needed to know.

But you ignore him.

Glaring at Price without really looking. Lost in your head. You know you should be paying attention but it's all static to your ears, it's the sound of every pen writing down on a sheet. Of feet being dragged across the tile floor. Bodies shifting in their seats. Someone sipping on water.

One of the boys making a comment as your leg bounces up and down not being able to stop it. All the voices inside are muffled and you just want to get out of there so bad.

"Sergeant?" Price calls you, raising his voice and pulling yourself back from your stupor.

Eyes blinking rapidly as your attention turns to him and the room is deadly silent. Was that a hair pin dropping in the hallway?

"Yes Captain?" You ask, body numb and cold.

Price sighs.

"I asked if there's anything else you want to know about the mission? You're leaving in two weeks with Ghost."

"Oh." The answer is muttered so lowly they can barely hear your voice. You find the face of the Lieutenant for one second before looking away as if it had burned you. Simon's body goes stiff. "No."

Not convinced but not wanting to push for another answer he dismisses all of you. You're storming out of the room before he's fully done, leaving the four men taken aback by your strange demeanor.

It's not until you've reached the women's barracks that you stop. If anyone had followed you, you didn't notice too preoccupied and deep in that somber haze that's been clouding your mind since you got back from home.

Memories of everything that went wrong. And the memories of the man across the room.

-

A beautiful, warm feeling forms in your belly, big hands tightly hold your waist. His face hiding in the crook of your neck as your arms circle his broad shoulders holding onto him, sinking up and down on his lap. Sweet sounds of skin slapping against skin echo around the quiet night of his room. Simon mutters sweet nothings in your ear as you both chase your highs, coming undone at the same time he forces you took straight to his brown eyes and your heart flutters, overwhelmed at the way he takes in your presence and breathes the essence of you. Just you as a whole. He doesn't let you go until he's spilled everything inside you, massaging you over the soft fabric of your —his— shirt that neither bothered to take off, too enraptured to care.

"Hey, you with me?" giving a small squeeze to your hip Simon let's you touch his face and trace the scars that adorn the uneven parts of his skin. He notices the way your attention seems to drift away from where you are.

"Yeah. Was thinking about us."

His brows lift.

"What about us?" Inhaling deeply you shake your head lifting from your spot and walking on somewhat wobbly legs, Simon follows you to the bathroom wondering why you're acting so strange. "Sweetheart?"

"It's nothing, I promise." He watches as you clean yourself, he could've done it —he has every other time— but now with your sudden change he doesn't know what to think. "I have to go. My parents are waiting for me."

Clenching his jaw he decided to not pressure you on the matter. Ghost was aware that visiting your parents or talking about them struck a nerve within you.

"Want me to give you a ride?" You look at him through the mirror and shake your head in denial.

"I can take the bus."

"Love..."

"It's fine, Simon." You utter. "It's fine."

Turning around on your heels you walk past him, who stays anchored to the same spot outside the bathroom. He watches as you gather your belongings and begin to dress. Simon crosses his arms over his chest.

"Text me when you get home, please?"

A curt nod is all you give him.

-

You never texted him although he had tried to reach out to you in the next few days and you try not to think about everything that's happened as you strip naked and step in the shower. Warm water washing your body, forehead pressing on the cool tiles of the wall. Shoulders shaking, hands coming to your mouth trying to muffle your sobs.

The all too clear picture of your father telling you no one could ever love you. Your mother doing her best to console you when you had told her the truth.

"I- I think I love him mom." sad eyes fixated on the far wall. "And I don't know what to do."

She had taken your hand with a beautiful smile on her lips.

"Any man would be lucky to have you, darling."

Her words resounding in your ears, and your eyes glimmer with hope. Hope that maybe she's right.

But you had promised to never let it get that far. You'll lose him and that's what pains you the most.

Girl's snickering and walking in the shared showers can be heard from behind, you can't see them but the sound of their giggles fade away in an instant. Gone as soon as they came. Turning off the water pipes you wrap yourself with the white towel neatly hung on the bathroom rack and the moment you slide the curtain open you're met with brown eyes leaning against the opposite wall. He's been waiting, hearing you cry. Shooing away all the women who came with a single hard look their way. No doubt gossiping about the Lieutenant being in the women's section.

A long silence stretches between the two before he finally breaks it, pushing himself off the wall and slowly walking towards you, who holds the towel against your body in a vice-like grip.

"Haven't heard from you in days. Weeks." He starts, eyes following the droplets that travel down your body and back to your face. You've been crying. Simon hates seeing you cry and not being able to do anything about it. It makes him feel powerless, worthless. What do you call a man that can't even help his girl? "You've been ignoring me. May I ask what's going on?"

He's calm, controlled despite the rage within him. You never texted him back that day, never answered his calls leaving him worried and dwelling on the whole situation.

His own insecurities sparked the worst.

"Nothing, just personal stuff Lt." clearing your throat you try to walk past him but he grabs your arm.

"Bloody hell don't call me that. I'm asking as...-"

"As what?" You bite back, eyes snapping up at him as tears collect in your eyes. Simon grits his teeth he wants to say a lot but no words come out. "You shouldn't be here. People will talk."

"I'm not leaving until you speak. What's got you like this." You shake your head. "Fucking Christ I can't fix this if you don't tell me." He hisses.

"There's nothing to fix!"

"Just bloody talk to me, I'm losing my mind was it something I said?" He's not screaming but he's panting hard. "Was it something I did?!" He demands, big terrified, desperate orbs screaming for a sign.

"I fell in love with you!" You confess, eyes widening in horror at what you just said. Fervently shaking your head and walking back, away from him. Simon's eyes widen for a fraction before he's reaching out again hands cradling your face in them with a wild, desperate look. Your vision blurred thanks to the tears.

"Say it again." He pleads, his voice barely above a whisper. Like the sound of snow falling from the sky during the winter. You freeze in your spot, chewing on your lower lip.

"I fell in love." His body relaxed, all the tension he has been bearing on his shoulders for the past days slowly fades. "And we agreed we couldn't let this happen. Never. Forgive me Simon."

"Silly girl." He breathes in, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. "You haven't been paying attention, have you?"

"What?" You mumble, one hand coming up to rest on one of his.

"You're in my mind even when you're not supposed to be."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I'm an idiot." His forehead connects with yours and you can finally breathe again. After the hellish days at home, the sense of being loved and protected by the man you love is enough to overwhelm you. "Thought I was losing you for a moment. Nearly lost my mind, love."

"No. Never." You promise, hugging him tightly against your body. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Simon I just... I just didn't know what to do."

"S'alright." He soothes you. "I've got you." Feeling like the luckiest man alive, even if he didn't deserve to be loved.

He remembers the moment when he had fallen for you, the day you smiled up at him under the starry night on the roof of the safe house, covered in blood and dirt.

He knew there would be no one else after you.

#cod #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod mw22 #simon ghost riley #cod ghost #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #call of duty ghost simon riley #cod simon ghost riley #cod simon riley #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost simon riley #simon riley #simon ghost x you #simon riley x you #ghost smut #ghost modern warfare #ghost riley #ghost mw2 #modern warfare x reader #cod mw3

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 17: Alone

Summary: Your pack has left on their first deployment since you joined them, leaving you alone on base.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 6,866

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, ANGST, anxiety, fear, nightmares, PTSD, trauma, just super depressing overall.

A/N: I'm so ready for these next two chapters, you have no idea. Things are happening, things are gonna happen, it's just...so good. You'll see 🤭. They're pretty heavy chapters emotionally, but don't worry fluff will be coming very soon. I won't leave you hanging too much for too long.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

“We'll only be gone for a few days. A week at most. Dr. Keller will take you to and from meals and anywhere else you may need to go. If you need anything, contact Kate. We'll call when we can.” 

He leaves you with a kiss to your forehead. You’re forced to stand there and watch his back as he boards the plane, the ramp closing and sealing you off from them. They all looked guilty, as if it was their fault they had to leave, as if they were suffering as much as you at the idea of parting, even just for a short period of time.

You don't sleep that night. You lay in your bed and stare at the ceiling until far too late when you decide to abandon it for John's room instead. You slip under the covers, disrupting the immaculately made bed as you surround yourself with his scent. You’re on edge, the barracks far too quiet, far too empty. Every little sound has you tensing, holding your breath. The door is locked, yet it’s not the same without your pack there to protect you. If you scream, no one will hear you now. 

You manage to fall asleep at some point in the early hours, your mind plagued with horrible nightmares of monsters devouring and tearing you apart. 

You wake with the sun, dragging your feet back to your room. You miss the quiet sounds of your boys getting ready in the morning after their workouts, taking extra care not to be too loud. Now you wish for it. You want them to be loud and wake you, because then they’d be here with you. The hallway feels too empty, the barracks too large. You’ve spent plenty of time alone in the barracks, but it’s never felt like this. They’re not just across base from you, they’re probably in an entirely different country. 

You stare at their closed doors, all four of them feeling like voids knowing the rooms behind them are empty. Even Ghost’s closed door feels particularly empty. 

You shuffle into your room, locking the door behind you as you get ready for the day. You’re not quite sure what you’re going to do, now that you don’t have them around. You suppose you could just go about your day as you usually do while they’re at training, except you won’t have their inevitable return to fetch you for meals to look forward to. 

It’ll be days before you see them again. 

If you see them again. 

You force that thought back into the recesses of your mind. You won’t entertain it, not now while you’re still trying to process the fact that they’re gone. Even if it is a possibility. 

You’re sitting on your bed when the knock comes, clutching your phone in your hand. You don’t want to be without it, in case they call. You don’t want to miss a chance to talk to them, especially if it’s your only chance. Or a call from Kate telling you something happened.

You open the door, Dr. Keller standing in the hallway with a small smile on her face. It doesn’t feel strange having her in this space, even with the rest of your pack gone. She’s been here before, and you trust her. 

“How are you doing?” She asks as you step out of your room, closing the door behind you. 

“I don’t know.” You say, letting out a sigh. “I couldn’t sleep last night.” 

“I don’t blame you. Feels strange, being alone here, huh?” 

You nod. “Yeah. It’s too quiet. Too empty.” 

“I bet.” You follow her out of the barracks and into the cool morning air. “Let’s get some food in you and then you can take it easy for the rest of the day. I know this is a big adjustment, and it happened rather suddenly.” 

“Was gonna happen eventually, though.” You say. “For the three months I was with the CIA, they drilled it into my head that their job would always take priority over everything else. Still sucks.” 

“It does. Separation is hard for everyone in a pack, even if it’s short term. Add on the stress of their jobs and I can only imagine what it’s like.” 

“I’m trying not to think about that.” You say. 

“I think that’s the best thing you can do right now.” She squeezes your arm. “Come on, we’ll get the food to go and we’ll eat in my office. I usually do that anyway. It’s much quieter than the mess.” 

You get your breakfast, following Dr. Keller to the medical center. You are silently glad you won’t have to eat in the mess without the protection of your pack. The stares from the others might have been your tipping point, and without Ghost to scare them off, you’re sure it would have only been worse.  

“Make yourself at home.” Dr. Keller says, letting you into her office. “You can sit at the desk to eat, if that’s more comfortable. I don’t mind.” 

You take her up on the offer, sitting in the chair across from hers at the desk. She moves some papers out of the way before taking a seat herself. It feels almost strange, being so informal in her office, but then again, she’s always been more laid back with the formality between the two of you. 

“If there’s one thing I miss, it’s good diner food.” Dr. Keller says as the two of you begin to eat. 

You stare down at your porridge for a moment, having gotten used to the change in food over the last almost nine weeks. “I miss a lot of things.” 

“Would you ever want to go back and visit America?” Dr. Keller asks. 

You shrug. “I don’t know.” 

“I’m sure they’d take you, if you asked.” She smiles as you stare up at her in surprise. “I don’t think there’s much they wouldn’t do, if you asked. They care about you a lot.” 

“I’m starting to realize that.” You say. 

“Good. It’s reassuring to see such strong, natural bonds forming between all of you, despite how the situation came about. You’ve made a lot of good progress already, even with the few bumps in the road.” 

It falls silent between the two of you as you eat, finishing your breakfast. Your stomach churns with anxiety, hand closing around the phone in your pocket as if it might ring at any moment. It makes you sick, the thought of what they might be doing, what might be happening right at this very moment. 

“Can I ask you something?” You break the silence, needing to take your mind off your swirling thoughts. 

“Of course.” She says, looking up from the papers she’d been looking through. 

“Since I’m your only patient, what do you do all day?” You ask. 

She smiles. “I do a lot of things. After our sessions I log the notes I take and read over them, I make sure your medical chart is up to date, I read through a lot of studies and journals on new research and methods that may be helpful, I talk to colleagues all over the world, including here on base, and I sometimes go around the medical center and sit in on meetings and classes to keep my skills sharp.” 

“Do you ever feel like you’re wasting your skills here?” 

She shakes her head. “No. Before I took this job, I was caring for sometimes over one hundred omegas at various institutes. It was a high stress environment with long hours. While it was fulfilling work, there’s a high turnover rate for Omega Specialists in that field for a reason. Being a private doctor is a bit of a relief after that, and truthfully, the pay is considerably better.” She folds her arms on her desk, leaning forward. “It’s no less fulfilling than working at institutes. It’s nice to have the time to put together the best care plan for you and your needs.” 

“It is nice having an Omega Specialist to myself.” You say. “There were several at the institute, a lot of students doing their residency. They weren’t always...good at their jobs. A lot of them were just going through the motions, doing what the more experienced specialists told them to do.” 

“Unfortunately that’s rather common with residents.” She says. “Most of them don’t make it past residency. Like a lot of specialities in medicine, it takes a certain kind of personality to succeed as an Omega Specialist. Not everyone has it in them. I wish more schools and programs would take notice earlier before they get to their residencies and steer them down a different path.” She smiles at you. “Now my question for you. Would you rather hang out in here today, or would you prefer to go back to the barracks? You won’t hurt my feelings either way, nor will you be a bother.” 

You think about it for a moment. While your knee jerk answer is to go back to the barracks, what are you going to do? Sit alone in the silence and worry until it makes you sick? Sit in the rec room and watch TV alone and worry about your boys until the next meal time? As much as you want to be alone, you also don’t want to be alone. 

“I’d...like to stay here, if that’s okay?” You finally say, making your decision. 

“More than okay.” She smiles. “Make yourself at home, do whatever you’d like. Watch YouTube videos, dig into some books, take a nap. You won’t bother me in the slightest. You’re always welcome to hang out in here.” 

You look over the titles on the bookshelf, picking one that looks interesting before settling on the couch. You spend the day with Dr. Keller, relaxing in her office and going to meals with her. It doesn’t calm the anxious thoughts by much, but at least the loneliness is abated a bit. 

You return to the barracks after dinner, debating whether you should sit in the rec room or just go to your room. The rec room feels too open, too exposed without the safety of your pack, so instead you choose to retreat into your room, locking the door behind you. 

You let out a sigh, your shoulders slumping as tears gather in your eyes. Another night without them, another night without the safety and comfort of their presence around you. Another night knowing they’re not on the other side of the wall, a knock or a yell away. 

You fight the panic starting to bubble as you get ready for bed, your mind swirling with thoughts of something happening, someone breaking in, someone taking advantage of their absence to get to you. You know it’s an irrational fear. Most of the alphas on base ignore your existence, aside from the couple incidents you’ve had with them. The most they do is stare, though that’s to be expected as an omega. 

What if they’re holding back something more sinister, though? What if the only thing stopping them is your pack? This would be their opportune moment. 

You’re shaking, eyes wide in fear as you stare at yourself in the mirror. Sure, you’ve learned a few ways to defend yourself, but could you really utilize them? If the moment called for it, could you defend yourself enough to get away? Where would you go? Dr. Keller won’t be in her office all night. Could you run and seek protection from another medical professional that was still working? Could you find a different high ranking official on base and hope they’d help you? Could you go for the guards at the gate and hope they help you? 

Or would it be safer to run for the woods? Try to lose whichever alpha decided to attack you and hope you don’t get lost in the trees? You would just have to survive the night, and Dr. Keller would notice you missing come morning. What would she do, though? Call Kate? It’s not like the guys could just come home and help you. Would Kate even tell them something happened and put them at risk of getting distracted? What if something happened to them because of you? 

You turn the shower on as cold as it will go, stepping under the spray in your pajamas. You sink to the floor of the shower, letting the cold water snap you out of your panic and prevent you from distressing. No one’s coming through the door, no one’s going to try and hurt you. 

Your teeth are chattering by the time you reach up to turn the water off. Violent shivers rock your body, your hands and feet numb. You take deep breaths, feeling more awake and aware than you have since yesterday. 

The panic has dropped to almost nothing, your shaking now due to the fact you’re freezing. You strip out of your wet clothes, leaving them in the tub as you wrap a towel around yourself. You’re still shivering violently as you change into warmer pajamas, opting for one of John’s shirts and sweatpants. 

You slip under the covers of your bed, piling every blanket you own on top of the covers before tucking yourself against your giant bear. You won’t sleep, but at least you’re not panicking anymore. 

The days begin to blend together without the routine of your pack to keep you steady. Dr. Keller comes to get you at the same time as you expect for your breakfast, and then you spend all day with her, sitting in her office, keeping yourself occupied while you wait for an inevitable phone call. It will either be your pack calling to check on you, or it will be Kate with bad news. 

You’re not sure which is worse. The anticipation of a call from your pack letting you know they’re all alright, or the dread that it will be Kate telling you something happened to them. 

You’re still not sleeping well, the anxiety and the worry you might miss their call meshing with the nightmares that were already plaguing you before they left. You’re exhausted and strung out, the worry beginning to eat you alive. You’re constantly on edge, every little sound close to sending you spiraling. 

Your thoughts have slowly shifted from missing your pack to ruminating about the fact they might not be coming back. It’s a risk you’re well aware of. The kinds of things they do put them at risk, every deployment carries the risk of one, or all of them, dying. One thing goes wrong, one small freak accident and your entire pack could be taken from you. 

You’re not sure you’d survive that. 

Most omegas don’t. 

“Still nothing?” Dr. Keller asks as you sit there, staring at your phone for what must have been an hour at least. 

You shake your head. “Nothing.” 

“Sometimes no news is good news.” She says. “I know you’d prefer to have any news at all, though.” 

“I can’t stop thinking...what if something bad has happened?” You say, fingers trembling from gripping your phone so hard. 

“Kate promised she’d call if something happened, right?”

You nod. “Yeah.” 

“She’s a woman of her word, I can say that much. I’m sure they’re fine. They’re very capable soldiers. They wouldn’t be in Spec Ops if they weren’t, much less on a highly specialized team.” Dr. Keller stands up, moving to the closet. “It’s still hard, not knowing where they are or what they’re doing. I remember when my brother told our parents he was enlisting. Our mother cried for a week straight.” She pulls a pillow and a blanket out of the closet. “I still don’t think she’s completely forgiven him. It’s hard for omegas when someone leaves the pack, even temporarily, especially if you can’t have constant reassurance that they’re alright.” 

Your brows pinch in a frown at her words as she kneels on the floor beside the couch. “Your mom was an omega?” 

She nods. “And dad was a beta. Wound up with two beta children, though I don’t think mom complained much about that. We grew up in a big pack with lots of people around us. I think mom would have been worse off if it had just been her and dad.” She sets the pillow on the couch, gently prying the phone from your fingers. “Come on, lay down.” She directs you. 

You do as she says, laying down on the couch, resting your head on the pillow. She covers you with the blanket, tucking it up around your neck. “Is that why you’re so good at this job?” 

She smiles, setting your phone on the arm of the couch above your head. “Maybe. I think it gave me more empathy for omegas and the struggles you face every day.” She gently squeezes your arm. “They’ll be alright. They’re probably just as worried about you, as you are them. But, you need to get some rest. You don’t have to sleep, just laying with your eyes closed will help.” 

You tilt your head, glancing up at your phone. “What if I fall asleep and it rings?” 

“Then I’ll make sure you get a chance to answer it.” She says, squeezing your arm again. “I promise. Get some rest.” 

You let out a breath, not wanting to risk falling asleep, but you close your eyes anyway. It doesn’t stop the thoughts from coming on, the nightmarish images the anxiety feeds your brain flashing before your eyes. What if they’re lying dead somewhere right now? What if something’s happened to Kate and she can’t tell you? Would you ever find out? Would you ever know? 

Despite the anxiety prickling through your body, the warmth of the blanket begins to lull you into a false sense of security. Perhaps it’s the sheer exhaustion from your lack of sleep over the last couple weeks, paired with the exhaustion from your constant worrying, but you find yourself slipping between sleep and consciousness as you lay there on Dr. Keller’s couch. You don’t mean to, but you can’t help it as you begin to drift off to sleep. 

Screaming. It’s loud, piercing your ears. Something’s holding you, hands clutching at your form desperately. It hurts, nails biting into your skin, fingers gripping too hard, yet you don’t care. 

“You won’t take her from me! I won’t let you!”

You’re crying, sobs wracking your body as you cling just as tightly to the form holding you. 

Hands grab at you, squeezing and pulling, trying to free you from the constricting grip around you, but it won’t let go. You cling to it just as desperately, afraid of what will happen if you let go. 

You know what will happen if you let go. 

“She’s no daughter of mine.” 

The words bite into you, slicing through your skin straight into your very soul, the prickling pain of your own flesh and blood rejecting you making your skin crawl. How could he just let you go like that? How could he turn against you so easily, over something you have no control over? 

Pain erupts across your entire body. Something snaps, your ears ringing from more screams. You’re being pulled away from the safety of the hold around you, your body going cold as the warmth around you disappears. Hands close around you, fingers ripping into you as you're torn from your mother’s hold and into the unknown. 

“Easy, easy.” 

You’re gasping, breathing wheezing as tears choke you. 

“Deep breaths. In and out, nice and slow.” 

Your breath hitches, catching painfully in your chest. 

“You’re alright, you’re safe.” 

You force your eyes open, blinded by tears as something is tucked into your arms. You squeeze the bear against your chest, hiccuping as you fight for control over your emotions. You’re on the couch in Dr. Keller’s office still. You’re not at what was once your home, not stuck in the nightmare you’ve lived over and over. 

Slowly breathing becomes easier, your sobs quieting to sniffles. The tears still spill down your cheeks, dampening the fur of the bear in your arms. 

“You’re alright,” Dr. Keller says, rubbing your back gently. 

You slowly push yourself up to sit, pulling your knees against your chest. You press your palms into your eyes, trying to get the tears to stop. Dr. Keller shifts her position, sitting next to you on the couch. 

“How long have you been having nightmares?” She asks quietly, watching you as you try to calm yourself. 

“Since my heat.” You say, voice rough from crying. You wrap your arms around the bear again, holding onto it tightly. 

“You haven’t said anything about it.” She says gently, shifting slightly so she’s facing you. 

“I didn’t want to.” You say quietly, shame burning through you. She’s not reprimanding you, yet you can’t help but feel like you’ve done something wrong. “I shouldn’t be having them, I mean...it’s not even that bad compared to...compared to what the others have gone through. The kinds of nightmares they have.” 

“It might seem that way to you, but trauma is still trauma. It might not be the worst thing someone else has gone through, but it is the worst thing you’ve been through.” 

Her words give you pause. You’ve never quite thought of it that way. The kinds of things your pack does, the things they’ve seen, the things they’ve done, are far worse than anything you’ve experienced. The things you’ve experienced may pale in comparison, but they’re your experiences. No one else’s. 

“If you want to talk about them, that’s what I’m here for.” Dr. Keller says, leaving things open for you to decide what to do. 

You don’t have to tell her. She won’t force you to do it. She won’t force you to do anything, to say anything you don’t want to. It might be nice, though, to let someone know, someone neutral, someone who won’t tell anyone else. It might be nice to finally put into words the things that are eating you, have been eating you. 

You lay back down, curling up into a tight ball on the couch. You hug the bear close to your chest, letting it ground you. “My nightmares, they’re always about the day I left for the institute.” You start, taking a shaky breath. “I haven’t had them in years.” 

“You were sent early after your presentation, right?” She asks. 

“The day after.” You answer. 

“Being sent to an institute can be traumatic when done within the normal time after presentation. I can’t even imagine what being sent that soon was like.” She lets out a breath. “Sometimes when we go through something traumatic, the brain and body hold onto it, because we don’t feel safe enough to process it in the moment. The brain can hold onto it for years, until we finally feel safe enough. Then the brain can start to try and heal from that trauma without us even realizing it.” 

“You think that’s what’s happening?” You ask. 

“It’s possible. Going through your heat successfully, being claimed, building close bonds with your pack, all could aid in helping you finally feel safe enough to process that trauma. Things usually feel worse as the brain works through the trauma, which could be why you’re having nightmares about that event suddenly.” 

“Is there anything that will make them stop?” You ask. 

“There’s some things we can do together that might help the process. I’m more than happy to help you with it, if that’s what you’d like to do. If you decide to, I think it will be a good idea to set up appointments at least twice a week, at least at first.” 

“What are we gonna tell John?” 

She gives you a look. “Well, I’d advise telling him the truth. I think you should tell your pack about your nightmares. They can at least offer you some comfort and understanding. Of course, that’s entirely up to you and what you want to do.” 

You let out a sigh, getting comfortable on the couch again. Dr. Keller adjusts the blanket over you, squeezing your arm gently. 

“Think about it.” She says. “We can talk about it more after they get back and things have settled back to normal again.” 

You’re brushing your teeth when the call comes. You quickly spit into the sink, not even bothering to rinse your mouth before you’re answering, anxiety twisting your stomach into knots. You hadn’t even checked the screen to see who was calling. You’re just anxious to hear from someone after days of silence. 

“Hello?” 

There’s a beat of silence before the voice on the other side responds, the audio distant and slightly garbled, but you hardly notice. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” 

You fight back a sob, your inhale shaky as relief floods through you. “Alpha.” The title slips through your lips before you can even catch it, your body nearly vibrating at hearing John’s voice after so many days. 

“I’m here. We’re all here.” He says, distant voices sounding in the background. 

A smile tugs at your lips, happy tears blurring your eyes as you collapse on your bed. “Missed you.” 

“I know, we’ve missed you too.” 

You move to your bed, flopping down on the mattress in relief. “You alright? Is everyone alright?” 

“We’re alright. Few bumps and bruises, but nothing we haven’t had before. How are you holding up?” 

The urge to spill the truth to him is strong. You’ve been depressed and worried and there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by that you haven’t panicked about something. You’ve been having horrible nightmares and haven’t been sleeping. There’s an ache in your chest that won’t go away, and you’re afraid it might kill you if you don’t see them soon. 

“I’m alright. Sad cause I miss you a lot.” 

“I know, sweetheart.” There’s a sound on the other end, something you can’t make out and the line buzzes for a second. For a moment you’re worried you were disconnected, but John’s voice cuts through the noise again. “We’re finishing up here soon, and we’ll be home in a couple of days.” 

You can’t help but sigh in relief at his words. They’re alright. They’re all safe, and they’re going to be home soon. You’re going to get to see them soon, touch them again, smell them again. “Hurry back.” You say, your voice shaky with emotion. 

“We’ll try, sweet girl. We have to get going, but we’ll be back before you know it.” 

Saying goodbye doesn't hurt as much as you expect it to. Maybe it’s the relief from hearing their voices, from knowing they’re really alright paired with the knowledge that they’ll be home soon. Two days doesn’t seem so far now that you know that’s all that stands between you and seeing your pack again. 

You roll over in your bed, pressing your face into the pillows. Nothing smells like them anymore. Not their shirts that they scented before they left, not your pillows or stuffed animals. The couch in the rec room, and even John’s bed have started to smell more like you. 

The first thing you’re going to do when they return is get a big whiff of each of them, even if you have to tackle Ghost to do it. You want to refresh their scents all over everything, roll around in them until they’re the only thing you can smell. 

For the first time in days, you manage to sleep that night. It’s not much, but it’s a deep, nightmare-free sleep, aided by the relief from the constant anxiety that has plagued you. 

You update Dr. Keller the next day on the news of your pack’s imminent return. You elect to spend the afternoon in the barracks instead of her office, the building suddenly not seeming quite so empty now that you know they’re coming home soon. You clean up John’s room, making his bed again after you’d made a mess of it trying to sleep. They’re all going to be tired when they return, and you want to help them in any way that you can. You pick up your room as well, even though you know you likely won’t be spending much time in it for a while. You’re going to latch yourself onto them and not let go until the ache in your chest has disappeared. 

You bristle when the knock sounds at your door. You glance up from where you had been sorting the clothes you’d stolen from the guys from your own so you can get them to scent them again. You’re not expecting a knock yet. It’s too early to be Dr. Keller coming to get you for dinner, and she would have announced herself like she has been, if it was her. 

That means someone else is in the barracks. Someone you don’t know. 

Your mind races as you try to think of who it could be. You don’t know many others on base, and certainly no one that would enter the barracks just like that, unless it’s an emergency. Is there an emergency? You’re almost certain if there was an emergency on base, then there would be alarms going off or something. There’d be some sign that something was happening, but it’s quiet outside, or at least, there’s no noises you’re not expecting. 

The knock comes again, louder and sharper. Whoever is on the other side is obviously not going to just go away. You debate calling Dr. Keller, telling her someone is outside your door, getting her to help you on this, but instead you grab your phone, holding it in your hand as you move towards the door. 

You unlock it, holding your hand on the handle in case the person on the other side tries to force their way in. They don’t, so you open it slowly, just enough that you can see out. There’s a soldier outside your door. A woman. You don’t recognize her, but then again you don’t see many women on the base, and you don’t pay much attention to the other soldiers. 

Maybe you need to start paying more attention. 

She’s a beta, you can tell just by looking at her. She’s wearing scent blockers, keeping her scent from projecting into the barracks to erase the fact she was here. 

She says your name, staring at you with hard set eyes. “General Shepherd is waiting for you.” 

It takes you a moment to process what it is she’s saying. You’ve never met any of the higher ups on base. The person with the most authority you’ve met is John, but you know he’s only a Captain. There’s others above him, but you weren’t any concern of theirs, so you have never bothered to meet them. Even in your time with the CIA, the person with the most authority that you met seemed to be Kate. You hadn’t even been given names of anyone higher up than her. 

Apparently something’s changed. 

Something in the back of your mind begins to tingle. Something isn’t right about this. You should have called Dr. Keller, or even Kate. You shouldn’t have opened the door so recklessly. 

“But, I’m not supposed to-” You begin, unsure of what to do now. 

“It’s a direct order from your superior.” The woman cuts you off, her tone sharp and impatient.

You’re not a soldier. The only superior you have is John and he’s certainly not behind this. 

You wouldn’t dare say that out loud. Not right now. 

“Okay, okay.” You say, stepping back slightly from the door. “Let me just get some shoes on.” 

You close the door, staring down at your phone. You debate calling Dr. Keller or even just sending a text, but you don’t put it past the woman outside to barge in if you don’t hurry. You can feel the panic rising, the thought of someone invading your space so carelessly making the back of your neck tingle. So instead you slip on a pair of shoes, shoes you know you can run in, before you open the door again. 

She’s still standing in the hallway, stiffly at attention. Her gaze pierces into you, making your skin crawl. You close your door behind you, slipping your phone into your pocket. She doesn't say anything as she turns on her heel, walking down the hallway towards the door. You follow behind her, having to walk quickly to keep up with her. You’re reminded of your early days on the base when you would be escorted around by Ghost. 

You’d take those times back over this right now. 

Your palms start to sweat as you leave the barracks, dread starting to fill your stomach as you realize how much of a mistake you’ve made, leaving with this stranger. She could be taking you anywhere to see anyone. You’re not even sure General Shepherd is a real person. 

The thought of being led blindly into a room of alphas like a lamb being led into a den of hungry wolves nearly makes you panic, your steps faltering just slightly as you debate running. You could make it to the medical center quickly from here if you sprint the entire way. Would she chase you if you took off running? Would you get in trouble? Would the guys get in trouble if you did? 

You don’t want anyone to get in trouble. 

Especially not with this being the first time you’ve been on your own. They’ve put a lot of trust in both you and Dr. Keller in their absence. If you get into trouble while they’re gone, that might change things. You could ruin everything you’ve built by misbehaving. 

The woman leads you to a building you haven’t been in before, leading you down a clinical-looking hallway to a door. She pauses in front of it, turning to face you. You stare at her, still on edge. What if this is a test? What if they’re testing you to see if you’d just blindly leave with a stranger while they’re not there to protect you. 

You’ve made a big mistake. 

The woman holds out her hand, and you stare down at it dumbly. “Your phone.” 

You continue to stare at her hand for a moment, trying to swallow the nervous panic rising within you. You don’t have much of a choice now but to obey. Your hands are shaking as you pass your phone over, the woman pocketing it before she opens the door. 

It’s bright inside, the LED bulbs burning your eyes. You’re uncomfortable and uneasy, a dangerous mix for an omega, but the person inside doesn’t seem to care. He stands from his seat, towering over you. He screams alpha before his scent even hits you. You’re thrown back into the memories of your father, the way he carried himself, the way he stood. Back straight like a rod, hands clasped behind his back, face pressed into a stern line. 

He’s in uniform, decorated with more patches and pins than you could put a name to. Army, you think, judging by the color of his jacket. It looks like General Shepherd is a real person after all. 

You try not to flinch as the door clicks closed behind you, sealing you in this room with an unknown alpha. Though it’s only one, you still feel like the helpless lamb standing before a hungry wolf. 

No one will hear you scream. No one will care. 

“My name is General Shepherd.” He says, his voice gruff and laced with authority. “I am the acting commander of Task Force 141.” 

You’re not sure if you should say anything, or even bother introducing yourself. He probably already knows you well, even though you’ve never met him before in your life. 

“I was one of the driving forces behind the omega initiative, and I decided the 141 should be one of the first to participate. I also signed the approval for you to be assigned as their omega, did you know that?” 

You shake your head. “N-No sir, the CIA didn’t give me any names.” 

“Good.” His lips twitch in what you assume was supposed to be a smile. It doesn’t ease your nerves any. “They weren’t supposed to. I’m sure you’ve learned that confidentiality is everything in this line of work.” 

“Yes, sir.” You try not to flinch under his gaze, piercing and probing. The back of your neck is tingling, every single instinct in your body screaming at you to run, to escape, to get somewhere safe. 

“I came here today to ensure your pack was doing as they were instructed. I’m impressed with what I’ve seen so far. You’re getting along well with them?” 

You nod again. “Yes, sir. There were some...bumps along the way, but we all get along fine now.” 

“Good.” He closes the file on the table, taking a step closer to you. You fight the urge to take a step back, not wanting him to invade your space while you’re so vulnerable. “The success of this program is imperative to the future of the military and its functionality. You’re doing important work here with the Task Force.” His hand lifts, slowly pulling the collar of your shirt to the side so he can see your mating mark. 

You fight the urge to lift your hands and wrap them around the back of your neck, the instinctual urge to protect yourself nearly winning out as he stares at your mark. Your heart is pounding in your chest, the fear-driven adrenaline making your fingers tremble. Half a second and he could scruff you, half a second and he could overpower you. 

No one would know. No one would care.  

“I’m satisfied with what I’m seeing so far. Of course, the true measure of success will be their efficiency in their current task.” He steps back away from you, moving back to the table. “How have you been adjusting to them being gone?” 

“It’s been difficult,” You say, breathing for a second to collect yourself. “But I know separation can be a rough adjustment at first.” 

His lips twitch again in a twisted smile. “You’re a smart girl. That’s why I chose you for this position. You’re doing good work. Your efforts will change the course of military history, hopefully for the better.” 

Something about his words don’t sit right with you. 

You’re trembling as you exit the room, led out by the woman that had brought you to the building. Your breaths are heavy as you try to keep a grip on the anxiety threatening to overtake you. Your hand is trembling uncontrollably as she give you your phone back, your knuckles going white as you clutch it to your chest. You’re sweating, the cool air chilling your skin as you step outside. 

You barely remember the walk back to the barracks, numbly following the woman as she leads you back to your safe space. It doesn't feel so safe anymore, now that she’s breached it. She entered without permission, breaking that trust that’s so sacred to packs. 

She doesn't even seem bothered by it. 

She pauses outside the door to the barracks, staring down at you. You fight the urge to race inside and lock yourself in the safety of your room before she can change her mind and enter again, or take you somewhere worse. You stand your ground, meeting her gaze. 

“Thank you for your cooperation.” She says, as monotone as she had been the first time she spoke to you. 

You finally realize what it was that made her seem so off to you as you think over her words. 

She’s American. 

“Thank you for escorting me.” You say politely, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Have a safe trip home.” 

You quickly enter the barracks, speed walking down the hall towards your room. You want to burrow under your covers and hide until the guys return and you can feel safe again. You pause in front of your door, staring down at the handle. The back of your neck is prickling again, anxiety burning hot in your veins. Your hands have begun shaking again, clinging to the phone still pressed against your chest. You fight the urge to hyperventilate as you stare at your door, half of your brain telling you to run and the other half stuck, staring in shock and disbelief. 

Your door is ajar. Open just a crack, just enough to be noticeable by looking at it. 

You always close your door. You always ensure it’s shut every time you leave the barracks, even when the guys are home. You remember shutting it before you followed the woman out of the barracks. You remember distinctly listening to the click of the handle as you pulled it shut behind you in the quiet of the barracks. 

You stare at the gap, the line of the frame visible. It’s open. Your door is open. 

Someone was inside your room. 

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[notmyneighbor]

Let Me in ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader

Chapter 3

Word Count ~ 2.5k

Rating ~ Explicit

CW ~ blood and gore, body horror, character death, minor violence, dubious consent, sexual content

Also available on AO3

Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok

You sit on the side of the bed that had once belonged to Francis Mosses.

The comforter and top sheet have already been pulled down. You lean over to slide out of your low heeled pumps, tucking the pair of navy leather shoes neatly under the bed.

There’s a bible on the nightstand. A worn looking copy. Beside it a glass with a shallow amount of water resting in the bottom, the remnant of a late night attempt to quench thirst, perhaps.

The doppelgänger watches your movements. How methodical each action is. Slow and deliberate. You’re stalling.

He settles beside you and the mattress creaks as the springs are compressed. That odd sort of shimmer you’d noticed earlier outside the security booth outlines his frame for a brief moment. A surge of light and color as the skin ripples before settling. They still weren’t completely able to disguise what they were. All hope was not lost.

Your own fate, however, seems sealed. You lie down slowly, carefully. You feel as if you are laying yourself to rest in your own coffin. Turning your face ever so slightly to see if there is any trace of the man that had once slept here, some lingering scent or an indent from his face. Nothing but the fragrance of clean linen. The imposter moves as if to join you but you halt him, your fingers closing over his forearm. Your first time touching him and not the other way around. “Take your shoes off.”

The creature snickers, glancing down at the scuffed oxfords he’s wearing. Overdue for a shine. “What possible difference does that make?”

“It’s respectful. You never put your shoes where someone sleeps.”

“He won’t be sleeping here ever again.”

You inhale sharply, wincing. “Please just do it.” You can’t say why you’re so hung up on this. Only that it seems the right thing to do. A small thing in a sea of wrongs that you’re clinging to like a life preserver.

“Fine.” He acquiesces, bending to unlace them. There is no care in his actions. Just brisk, impatient pulls to undo the knotted ties. Then he is lying beside you. Your heads sharing the same pillow. Francis only used a single one, apparently. Preferring to slumber lying with his head and neck rather flat. You always used two fluffy pillows, minimum.

You can hear the sound of music starting to play, emanating from the resident’s apartment next door.

Mia Stone, perhaps. The blonde teacher who was Dr. Afton’s fiancée. You instantly recognize the musical artist crooning through the walls: Billie Holiday.

I say I'll move the mountains

And I'll move the mountains

If he wants them out of the way

You would have loved to play this record for Francis. You envision trying to dance in the cramped space of the living room, twirling around in his arms. “Did he really like my fragrance?” You know the creature could lie, of course. He’d say anything to manipulate you and get what he wanted. But you have to ask. Your heart won’t let you avoid the query.

The dark eyes of the pretender regard you. You detect no malice or dishonesty there. “Yes,” he says simply.

You close your eyes, sighing. “What else did he like about me?”

“Your smile, gifted once you were certain it was really him. The way you covered your mouth when you laugh, making some little relieved joke when you passed his identification and entry request back to him each day. The strands of hair that came loose around your face as the day wore on into late afternoon when he returned from his route. The—”

“—Stop. Please.” Tears well in your eyes. They didn’t sound like the kind of details the deceiver would create on his own. There was a note of truth to them. Genuine recollections. He truly was all that remained of Francis Mosses. A man that had been fond of you. You could have been with him, if only you’d been a little braver.

“You asked me to tell you.”

“I know. It’s just overwhelming.”

Like the wind that shakes the bough

He moves me with a smile

“Your kind is so fond of music. Your milkman was always humming. I don’t see the use for it.”

The your wrenches your heart. He wasn’t yours. Never would be. “It’s a way to expression emotions. When words alone aren’t enough.”

“Hmmm.” He reaches out and you flinch. “Why are you fighting this so hard? This is what you wanted.”

“I didn’t want Francis to die.” You pause, swallowing past the lump in your throat. “Why do you want this?”

”Curiosity. An experiment of sorts. There has never been a union between our kind. Not of this nature. A desire to know what it feels like. To see what might result.”

You shudder. An experiment. Using you like some kind of animal for breeding. A mere whim.

He reaches again and this time you force yourself to hold steady, your chin lifting with a short jerk of defiance. Your hair is his goal. Tucking it back behind one ear. Maybe something the milkman had wanted to do. There’s a sudden softness in the doppelgänger’s eyes. As if the human he’d once been was peeking through at you. You find yourself melting again, your defenses coming down.

I say I'll care forever

And I mean forever

He moves closer to you. Inching over across the white fitted sheet. A thumb strokes away one of the tears that has escaped its prison. He captures the other from the opposite cheek, bringing it to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste the droplet. “Salt,” he says, recognizing the mineral.

He kisses you.

You’re not sure if it’s better to think of the man you had loved or not. Was it dishonoring his memory or was it a way to keep him present in some vague capacity? There’s no clumsiness this time. He knows the feel of your mouth. The way to shift against you. Tongue mapping past smooth cheeks and dragging along the carpet of muscle at the base of that maw. Maybe it was better to pretend this was Francis after all. You cup the back of his neck, fingers teasing the edges of his milk chocolate tresses. Curling slightly on the ends. It would be time for a trim soon. Would have been. The illusion you’ve created is crumbling again. Your lips falter, your hand dropping away.

Crazy he calls me

Sure, I'm crazy

Crazy in love am I

“Sweetheart,” the invader murmurs, tasting along your jaw, your neck. “I like the way you smell.” Speaking for himself, not Francis. You hear the sharp intake of air. The hand that had been casually laid across your shoulder slides down until it reaches your breast, gently kneading that globe through the layers of your bra and blouse. “Does this feel good?” His voice is octaves lower than you’d ever heard from the milkman. Slightly raspy and sultry, not unlike the singing voice that permeates through the wood and plaster behind the bed. You don’t dare answer, merely whimpering a little and he seems to take this as an affirmative response.

His hand leaves your breast and finds the top button of your shirt. Always sensible, pure white, part of the uniform standard the company requires. Another threaded plastic disc is pushed through the hole. He works his way down until all those that are exposed have surrendered, the remainder still tucked within your skirt. His fingers part the edges of the fabric encasing your torso, peeling them back to reveal the white satin brassiere beneath. He caresses you briefly through this slick material before tucking inside the cup until he brushes across your areola. Your nipple peaks beneath his ministrations as his lips move back to yours. He is surprisingly gentle, lightly pinching and rolling the aroused tissue. Your body betrays you, responding to the creature’s touch. You should be ashamed, disgusted. Instead you find yourself wanting more.

“Off,” he murmurs impatiently, plucking at your bra before his hand departs your chest. You struggle to sit up and he allows it, watching you pull your blouse free from your skirt and unfastening the cuffs before sliding it off your arms. With a swift gesture borne of long practice you easily pinch and release the hook and eye closures resting along the center of your spine, the cups immediately folding down over the underwire, the straps drooping over your shoulders.

The doppelgänger assists you now, sliding the brassiere off the rest of the way, exposing your chest to him. Your cheeks are pink, flushed like the nipples he’s toying with again, his head bending to suckle at one and a lick of flame sears your core. This is part of the invasive species’ learning process, you think. Taste as important as touch. His mouth moving not with the sole purpose of your pleasure in mind, but as a means to explore flavors and textures. Cataloguing. More of humanity’s secrets unveiled.

There is a song you don’t recognize playing next door now. Muffled voices. You’d had no idea the walls were so thin. Francis had never complained.

You’re shoved back down onto the pillow. His mouth wanders, back up to sample a collar bone, the hollow at the base of your throat, then dips in between your breasts and tastes the skin of your abdomen. You wonder if he can detect the floral soap you’d bathed with that morning, the traces of lotion you’d applied during your hygiene routine.

“I like this,” he says, his breath warm on your body. “You’re so soft. Smooth. Not like…I’ve never taken…” It had often been debated if there were sexes in their species. How they propagated. There was still so much unknown. Was there a reason he’d only chosen men to replicate? Was it simply because he was male himself? You could not explain how you knew it, but there was something distinctly masculine about him. Authoritative. Blunter than a woman would be. A lifetime of being raised to respect decorum had been firmly ingrained in you. Society valuing a woman who knows her place. Taught to be demure, deferring to the wisdom and guidance of their male counterparts. Serving and obeying, like you’re doing now.

The imposter returns his attention to your face. Licking your mouth back open. He likes this, you think. All of what you’d shared thus far, but perhaps the kissing best of all.

The background melody silences and you think you detect the front door opening and closing. You wonder if the couple will be going out to an early dinner. Curious when they find there is no one guarding the building. But not alarmed. Not yet.

Your skirt is being lifted, polyester dragged upward after the copycat’s hasty reach downward to gather the hem. Immediately sliding back down, stroking over your exposed thighs that are clad in nylons that stop midway across each of your upper legs. Nothing fancy, just utilitarian features in a shade of nude slightly more tanned than your own complexion. He nudges against the seal you’ve created by pressing your legs close together. “Let me in, sweet girl.” An echo of what he’d said earlier in an attempt to gain access to the building, now seeking entry into you. You feel your limbs parting for him nearly as promptly as you’d opened the door.

The pretender works his way back up to the fork of your body, teasing along the crotch of the white panties. You gasp and he smiles against your lips. His palm drags over the fabric until his fingers find the elastic waistband and he dips beneath it, running overly the neatly trimmed hair on your pubic mound, following the curve of that padded flesh until your sex is palpated.

Another gasp and a moan escapes you. “So wet,” he remarks, fondling the pink lips, parting the petals with his middle finger to slide through the slick arousal your body is creating, working the lubricant up and down, passing over the hooded nub and then delving back towards your entrance, where more fluid escapes.

It feels good and yet it doesn’t, his fingers too rough and just shy of where you need him. You squirm and wince at the harsh handling of your clitoris and he pauses, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Show me. Show me how you like to be touched.”

You reach down cautiously, guiding his fingers to one side of your sensitive bud, lightly pressing and rolling a fingertip so that your clit is ground slightly against the bone beneath. Alternating now, reaching back down to gather more of your slick before spreading it over that hooded button, a few direct strokes applied before beginning the process again. He replicates your actions and your body responds immediately, a hum of pleasure heating you. You close your eyes and you think of the milkman, the real one, with his kind smile and his tired eyes.

“Francis.” The name escapes your lips and you freeze, the rocking motion of your hips against the imposter’s hand abruptly ceasing. You hadn’t meant to say it out loud. Alarmed by how easily you’d allowed yourself to give in to the desire, accommodating this make believe passion.

“It’s alright, love. It’s me. I’m here.” His tongue laps at your ear, at the sensitive patch of skin behind it. You shiver and resume grinding against his fingers, letting yourself be deluded once more, your hand curling over his forearm.

“Francis,” you say again, hoping he can forgive you, in whatever form he now occupies, if he is saved as his faith professes he would be, finding redemption and peace, somewhere far from your sinning body that writhes in pleasure from his murderer’s touch.

You push against his hand and he allows it, applying force against the hollow cavity that leads to your womb. “Let me in,” he breathes, and you feel a finger invading your body, shoving through the narrow confines of that muscular tunnel. Withdrawing and spearing again, the digit saturated with your arousal. You moan and lift your pelvis to meet him. Curling inside, massaging that dip of spongy tissue. Crooking each time he enters as if he is leading you forward, beckoning, his thumb drawing circles over your clit. You feel as if you’re on the edge of a chasm, teetering on the rim, about to drop forward into heat and darkness. Keening now. Thighs tremoring violently. Your face turns and your teeth sink into the pillow. “There you go, love. Give it to me. Give in to me.”

The coiling pressure within you snaps and you find release at last, the fabric clenched in your teeth doing little to muffle the sound of your orgasm. You’re drenched in sweat, the aftershocks of your appeased nerves still sizzling through you. The doppelgänger cradles you through all of it, holding you as you ride the waves that exhaust your limbs, making you feel boneless and limp.

“Francis.” It’s a yearning plea, a futile prayer, answered by the thing that is not him, but masquerades as such, crooning to you, whispering false promises, draping you in synthetic affection, a lie you want so desperately to believe.

#thats not my neighbor #francis mosses #milkman #francis mosses x you #francis mosses x reader #milkman x you #milkman x reader #doppelgänger

[starryeyedjanai]

Steve and Eddie meet through their local buy-nothing-sell-nothing group when Steve’s getting ready to move in with Robin and he realizes he can't keep everything he owns while trying to merge households with her.

The first time they meet, Steve hadn't even been meaning to actually meet the person picking up the free toaster oven he’s giving away.

He’s setting his toaster oven outside his house on the porch when Eddie hops out of his van to pick it up and it would be rude to duck back inside without saying anything since he obviously sees him coming up, so they make small talk for a minute and Steve has to keep his eyeballs in check because they keep wanting to rake all the way down this guy’s body.

He’s covered in tattoos and so extremely Steve's type, but he knows better than to hit on someone who lives in his neighborhood and is not here for that reason.

He laments to Robin about it the next day, about the hot guy who’s probably using Steve's toaster oven as they speak, who he’ll probably never see again.

Robin rolls her eyes fondly at him and tells him that maybe if he puts more stuff up for grabs on the facebook group, he might see him again, but Steve suspects she just wants him to get rid of more of his stuff so it doesn't overcrowd their new apartment.

The set of items he puts up in the group next is an old blender and a butcher block that has three of the knives missing—seriously where did those knives go? He has yet to find them.

He tries to pretend he isn't secretly hoping Eddie will comment under his post that he wants the items, but he isn't fooling himself when his heart literally skips a beat when the first comment is from Eddie. He messages him and tells him to stop by later that day.

When Eddie shows up, they talk for longer than last time, Eddie asking why Steve needs to get rid of so much stuff and Steve asking why Eddie needs all this stuff—especially considering Steve snooped through the group and saw that Eddie joined over a year ago and hadn't once commented before now (he doesn't mention that thought, but he is thinking it real hard).

Eddie laughs and says he was in the market for a toaster oven when Steve posted one and wouldn't you know it? He also needs a blender—the knife set is just a bonus, he says.

Steve tries not to read too much into it, but his brain is spinning the interaction around in his head for the next week.

He puts up a space heater in the group and within minutes, Eddie has claimed it.

“I should just get your number and text you directly when I find something I want to get rid of next time,” Steve says flippantly when Eddie comes by to grab it that night. “Instead of clogging up the facebook group.”

Eddie smirks at him and steps a little closer. He says, “Maybe you should.”

His neighbor’s car alarm decides to go off right at that moment, ruining the flirty atmosphere with its incessant shrill. They can barely hear each other over the drone of it, so Eddie leaves without giving Steve his number and Steve is left feeling like he keeps having these missed connection moments with Eddie.

In a fit of desperation to see Eddie again, Steve puts up a bunch of random stuff in the group the next day—a shoe rack that’s missing a piece, a step stool, a cheap side table he got from Ikea—and Eddie is still the first person to comment like he’s been refreshing the page, just waiting for Steve to post.

“I left without giving you my number last time and I didn't want to be creepy and message you unprompted,” Eddie says as they load the side table into his van. “I think I was overthinking things and then got kind of spooked.”

“It doesn't look like anything could spook you,” Steve says.

When they get the side table inside the back of the van, Eddie turns to him and admits, “A very pretty boy could.”

Steve can feel his face getting hot. “You think I’m pretty?” he asks.

Eddie nods. “Why do you think I keep coming here? There's no way a person who’s lived here for as long as I have would need all this stuff.”

“Did you need any of it?” Steve asks in a teasing voice. “Or were you just so blown away by how cute my profile picture is that you just had to meet me?”

“Oh, I needed the toaster oven, but everything after that was just to see you again,” Eddie says before biting his lip.

There’s an entire swarm of butterflies in his stomach when Eddie's hand brushes his, when Steve takes Eddie's hand in his and leads him inside his box-filled house.

Later, when they’re making out on Steve's couch—when Steve really should still be packing since he has to move in less than a week—he pulls back to ask, “Wait, so are you gonna put the rest of the stuff you don't need back up for grabs in the group? I feel like that would start so much neighborhood gossip.”

Eddie grins wide and Steve wants to kiss him again, wants to feel his smile against his mouth.

“Oh, we’ll be the talk of the town, baby,” Eddie says, pulling him back in.

#steddie #stranger things #janai.doc

[bunnycvnts]

need you to write me some perv rafe 😌

pairing: perv!rafe x unaware!reader

summary: rafe has a small obsession with you and finds himself with the perfect opportunity to get closer to you.

warnings: pervy rafe, sexual themes, sorta??dark content, male masturbation, panty stealing (is this a warning LMFAO?)

rafe knew you. well. he knew of you. from glances in the hallway when you passed his room, headed towards sarah’s, small conversations when you joined family dinners, and the occasional interaction during parties when you wanted to score some coke on the low.

he knew you from the image he formed in his head. the one that told him your short passing glances were longing, filled with desire. that your hand brushing his at the dinner table was a sign to spread you open on the wooden table and fuck you. that you buying coke from him when there were many dealers in figure eight was because you needed an excuse to talk to him, not just because he was sarah’s older brother and would give you it a little cheaper than most.

you took up far more space in his brain than any of his little sisters friends should. more than any normal girl should. he’d never been so hell-bent on creating and imagining interactions, forcing them to happen, and putting himself in the right places at the right time if it meant he’d see you. countless nights he’d stay awake, hearing your giggles from across the hall while his hand was wrapped around his cock, jerking it to the sound of your voice that would slip between the cracks in the doorframe. rafe couldn’t be by the pool when you’d swim, his length creating an obvious print in the wet swim shorts that clung to his skin at the sight of your body in a small bikini, soaking wet with water dripping down your soft skin. he couldn’t look at you for too long at parties, his focus being solely on you rather than paying customers, even if you were halfway across the room in your own world.

it was safe to say he was obsessed, but it was okay, right? because you totally wanted him too. at least, that’s what he told himself.

for you, he’d always been sarah’s scary older brother that would sometimes stand a little too close, but offered you free coke at parties and would drive you home late at night, even though you only lived a block away and could definitely walk home.

rafe saw the perfect opportunity to get a little closer to you one afternoon after he’d been spending the day by the pool with you and sarah. you’d wrapped your towel around you, saying you were gonna go shower before dinner. sarah waved you off, determined to soak up every bit of sun she could. rafe watched you walk inside, water droplets leaking off of you with each step and the fat of your ass bouncing lightly, visible even through the towel.

he’d quickly sat up, throwing out an excuse of a phone call to his sister before following you inside. his steps were faster than yours, catching up to you quickly.

“hey, yo-you can use my shower if you want? that way, you don’t have to worry about wheezie or sarah trying to walk in.” he tried to sound casual, despite stumbling over his first words. you thought about it for a second before agreeing, having grown tired of trying to split sarah’s bathroom after pool days. rafe guided you upstairs, relishing in the fact that you were now standing in his room in only a small bikini and were about to be showering in his shower. you’d smell like him afterwards; his body wash would linger on your skin, and your sweet vanilla scent would linger in his bathroom. just the way he thought it should.

playing a nice host, he grabbed you a bath towel and turned the shower on for you before closing the door with a small smirk on his lips. you were quick in the shower, only washing your body and vaguely browsing through his products. when you hopped out, you realized you didn’t have your actual clothes. with a towel wrapped around your naked body and a frown on your face, you peeked through the cracked door and asked rafe to grab you your pink beach bag from sarah’s room as it held your clothes.

his eyes widened at the sight of you, but he nodded and left the room, pushing into sarah’s where he spotted your baby pink bag, your name clearly embroidered on the side. he checked over his shoulder quickly, ensuring he was alone, and opened the bag. he shuffled through it before coming across a little white thong that had a small bow on the front. rafe groaned as he shoved it in his pocket, grabbed the bag, and headed back to his room. he watched as you closed the bathroom door again and came out moments later in a sundress that showed off your tanlines from the bikini top, saying a small thank you and leaving the room entirely.

rafe took a moment to breathe, listening to your footsteps pad down the stairs. when he was sure you were gone, he rushed into the bathroom and stripped, your panties clenched in his fist. once he was under the warm shower water, your sweet scent filled the room, making him groan. his cock was throbbing, and his balls were aching for release. the fist clutching your white thong soon wrapped around his aching cock, now soaked and sudsy with his body wash. his grip was tight as he got himself off, your name spilling from his lips with every thrust of his hand. seeing something that once was worn by you wrapped around his length, your panties nonetheless, was surely enough to push him right to the edge. all he could think of was your sweet cunt dripping wetness into the soft cotton, him spreading your folds open and exploring every inch with his tongue, his cock lined with your tight entrance before pushing inside you and experiencing your warm wet cunt for the first time. what really sent him soaring over the edge, hot spurts of cum shooting from his thick cock and onto the shower wall, was your voice on the other side of the door, accompanied by a light knock. “rafe, are you sure you grabbed all the clothes that were in the bag? some things are missing.”

taglist: @sunkissedrafe @cxsmiclore @mousie101

#obx #obx cast #obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx imagine #obx x reader #rafe cameron #rafe obx #dark rafe cameron #obx smut #rafe cameron thoughts #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe smut #rafe x reader #rafe fic #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe x you #outerbanks rafe #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron concepts #rafe cameron imagine

[seungcheorry]

seungcheol being so, so pissed at a staff after he saw them mistreating joshua. he's actually ready to throw hands, spitting words at everyone, ears all red. jeonghan has a hand on his chest when you arrive, trying to calm down his leader.

"he won't listen to any of us", seungkwan tells you, clear despair all over his face. it's so easy for seungcheol to lose his temper when the well-being of one of his members is at stake.

you can hear jeonghan trying to make seungcheol stop, but he's nowhere near done running his mouth at the team that made joshua now sit at the corner, trying his best to smile and nod at whatever vernon and mingyu was telling him. "let him do it", woozi says, just as angry as seungcheol, shrugging when minghao shoots him a look. dokyeom joins jeonghan at trying to soothe seungcheol, but you know it's your time to intervene.

"hey, it's over", you tell him, standing in between him and whoever he was scolding. seungcheol acknowledges your presence, but he doesn't stop. "cheol, they get it, it's done. knock it off."

jeonghan leaves his friend's side with a sigh, instantly going to joshua to help his brother. so you take his space, your hand now on seungcheol's chest, but not just resting, actually pushing him back a little. he tries to say something else but- "i said knock it off, cheol, stop it!!".

it's only when he looks into your eyes, at the way you raise your eyebrows at him, that seungcheol drops his attitude, sitting back at a chair. "should we thank them?", dino murmurs to junhui, who just shushes the maknae so seungcheol won't listen.

but yeah, they should thank you.

#choi seungcheol headcanons #choi seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol imagines #choi seungcheol x you #scoups headcanons #scoups x reader #scoups imagines #scoups x you #seungcheol x you #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol headcanons #seungcheol imagines #seventeen headcanons #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen x you #svt headcanons #svt imagines #svt x reader #svt x you #seventeen #svt #choi seungcheol #scoups

[lynnielovestlou]

birthday girl ;) ellabs x reader

꩜ synopsis: ellie and abby give you a special birthday present

꩜ cw: ellabs x reader , smut with a little plot , sub! reader , dom! ellie , switch! abby , double penetration , dirty talk , praise , strap use , no use of y/n , reader sometimes referred to as "birthday girl" , fem! reader , possessive! ellie (only at the beginning) , ellie and abby have a bulge , strap use , reader is 21 , they eat cake off of reader's body (lol) , overstimulation , pet names , tummy bulge , implied wax kink , pussy slapping

nsfw!! men dni. masterlist

☆—-------------------------------------------------------------—☆

You weren't drunk. Just mildly buzzed, nothing more and nothing less. But the whiskey Dina got you for your birthday was coursing through your body, and you'd be damned if you couldn't feel it.

Ellie was the one that initiated your surprise party, Abby helping her with planning it. It didn't take them long, because they both equally knew you weren't hard to please. Just your favorite people, some music and some booze was all it took to make you happy.

Of course, it wouldn't truly be your birthday without a birthday dress. This morning when you were getting dressed you were couldn't decide between the purple dress that Abby got you, and the pink one that Ellie got you. You couldn't wear one without pissing off the other. But you made an internal compromise with yourself. Wear Abby's for the first half of the party, then Ellie's for the second half.

You were halfway through with Abby's dress. And you could tell Ellie was getting pissed off. Her hand was gripping your thigh every time you sat down, but it wasn't sweet. It was possessive.

Abby sits on the other side of you, her arm settled around your waist, her fingers lightly tracing the spaces in between your ribs. Neither of them could take their hands off of you, but both of them had different intentions.

"Why aren't you wearing the dress I got you?" Ellie mutters, her tone having an undertone of harshness.

"I wanted to wear both of yours." You respond bluntly, the nonchalant shrug pissing her off to a higher degree.

"You look better in pink." She says, loud enough for Abby to hear. Which, she does. But she pays no mind.

"Why don't you tell our girl how good she looks instead of getting all pissed she's not wearing your dress?" Abby says, an utter calmness in her voice.

"Why don't you shut the hell up?" Ellie counters, her and fingers mistakenly digging into your thighs. You squirm a little, and she loosens her grip.

Abby merely rolls her eyes, her grasp on your waist tightening, "Let's not fight on her birthday." She says, seemingly calm despite the argument.

For the rest of the party, Ellie wouldn't get her hands off of you. She was always touching your shoulder, your hips, your waist, the small of your back, etc. She was clingy as hell, and you knew why.

Once the last guest said goodbye, her entire demeanor changed, "You want your birthday present?" You nod, your tipsy smile brightening up. "Go lay down. Abby and I will be there in a second."

Obediently, you go lay down on your shared bed, kicking off the heels that had begun to rub on the back of your feet. Not long after, Abby had joined you, shuffling through the bedside table.

"Whatcha lookin' for?" You ask, watching her meticulously.

Abby chuckles before pulling out her strap. It was the longest and most girthy one the three of you owned, and it was your least favorite. It sting and you could never get used to the thickness, "Per Ellie's requests."

"Abs, I can never take that one, I-"

"I know, honey. We'll take care of it." She says as Ellie walks in after them. Her anger had faded from earlier, her expression now only filled with lust.

"Y'ready cupcake?"

Just at her words you could feel dampness pooling in your panties, and you subconsciously rub your thighs together. Of course, Ellie notices and shoves your knees apart, causing your dress to ride up your thighs, "How many times you wanna cum, baby?"

Your eyes widen at her bluntness, but you hold up one finger. She and Abby exchange glances before Ellie tuts you, "How about... we give you the number you just turned. How's that sound, birthday girl?"

Your jaw drops in sheer shock, the thought of having 21 orgasms making your head spin, "S' too much."

You earned yourself an eye roll from both girls, "You can take it. Afterwords, we'll treat you. How's that sound?"

You nod, biting your bottom lip to settle your nerves. Abby presses her plush lips onto yours, a sudden warmth bubbling up in your tummy.

"Get it nice and lubed up. Don't wanna hurt the birthday girl." Ellie says, slowly taking your panties off and throwing them off to the side of the bed. Your dress was next, leaving you completely naked.

"So pretty, baby." Abby coos, handing the monstrosity of a strap-on to Ellie, who immediately fastens it on over her clothes.

For a moment Ellie doesn't move, just watching you and Abby. Until you realize what she was waiting on. Abby was putting a strap on too, this one much more tolerable than the one that Ellie was currently wearing.

"Wanna take us both at once?" Abby asks, earning an eager nod from you.

After a few minutes of maneuvering around, Abby settled beneath you and Ellie behind you. Both girls had firm grips on you, Abby's hands playing with your ribs and Ellie's rubbing up against your ass.

"Tell us when you're ready, baby girl." Ellie says, teasing you by bumping the tip of the strap up against your hole.

"Who goes first?" Abby asks from below you.

"Let's get the hard part over with. I will." Abby says, slowly sliding the silicone into your ass. You yelp, your hands instantly squeezing onto Abby's shoulders.

"Shhh... you're okay." Abby coos, gently rubbing your skin with her calloused and oddly cold fingers. Ellie let's you adjust to her strap before she turns to Abby, nodding to her. Without warning, Abby eases the cock into you, both of the girl's only being separated by a thin layer of flesh, "Theeeere we go..."

You wince at the burn, feeling your stomach bulge just at the full feeling in your dripping cunt.

"You okay, baby?" One of them asks, but you're too busy focusing on the feeling to tell. You just nod, sinking your hips down onto both of their faux cocks at once.

"Good girl." Abby says, holding your waist to help guide you up and down.

All that was heard was the sound of the squelching between your legs and not one, not two, but three different sets of moaning. You looked so pretty to both of them, your plush tits on display for Abby and your ass out for Ellie, both of them equally as pleased with the view.

"S' too much." You whine, trying to squirm away from the burn. Ellie does you the favor by pulling you black and slamming the toy back into your hole, bottoming out in one go. You scream out, and Abby shushes your cries with gentle and tender kisses on your lips. She was always the one to comfort you, drying your tears and kissing your cheek while Ellie ever so mercilessly pounded you. It was never an uncommon instance.

"You've got it, baby. Breathe." She coos, giving Ellie a death stare as if to tell her to be more gentle. Meanwhile, Abby's strap was hitting you right where you wanted it. She moved her hips to hit that sensitive bundle of nerves. The spongey spot inside you that makes you moan.

"I've got an idea." Ellie says with a snicker, slowing her movements. She pulls out too quick, making you groan at the emptiness of your ass. Abby slowly pulls out too, letting you fully collapse on top of her.

You're a complete mess, crying into Abby's shoulder as she rubs your bare back as Ellie runs off.

"You wanna try something?" She asks when she returns, her arms full of things. You weakly pull your head up, glancing at the haul she as. You can't make out the objects, except for a bottle of whipped cream and a can of cherries.

Abby laughs at the sight of it, knowing exactly what she's doing.

"I think the birthday girl deserves her cake, don't you think, Ellie?" Abby says, gently shifting you off of her so you're laying face up on the bed.

Before you knew it, Abby was spraying mounds of whipped cream over your tits. It was colder than you'd expected, shivering as it hits your smooth skin. Once both of your boobs were perfectly covered, Ellie does the honor of placing the cherries on top.

"Look at you, honey." Abby can't help but giggle, grabbing the discarded whipped cream and spraying a dapple into your mouth. You laugh and gladly lick the rest of the white treat off your lips.

Ellie takes out a small box of candles, a stupid smile on her face as she rips them open and places them meticulously in the whipped cream. Abby grabs the lighter right out of her hands, lighting the candles right up on top of you.

The pink wax drips down from the flame, slowly creeping down to your skin. It burns for a millisecond before the wax settles and hardens. Ellie lets out a low groan, relishing in the sight of it.

Abby bends down, licking a fat stripe of the whipped cream off your nipple. Everyone giggles and laughs at the movement, Ellie mimicking her and licking off the whipped cream on your other breasts.

Abby grabs a fistful of your birthday cake, smearing it all over your stomach and thighs. You were more of a mess than before, covered in your own slick, your girls' saliva, whipped cream and now chocolate birthday cake. The white and pink icing smears all over your skin.

Ellie bends down, licking a thick strip of cake off your thigh and nibbling you in the process. Abby grabs another handful of the icing, drawing a line with her finger from your belly button all the way down to your clit. She licks it up and relishes the taste of you.

"Ellie, you've gotta try this." Abby says, taking some cake and smearing it in the same fashion for Ellie. She smiles, lifting your legs up and placing them over her shoulders to get a better angle, then attaches her lips to your skin. Her warm tongue travels down until she latched onto your clit, sucking vigorously on it and pulling moans from your lips.

"Gonna' make you scream." Ellie says, easing a finger into your hole.

You squeak, squirming slightly until Abby holds you down. She pecks your cheek, shushing you softly as Ellie pumps in and out. She curls her fingers, still sucking and licking on your clit.

"E-Ellie-" You whine, everything from the waist below starting to tingle.

"This is what you get for not wearing that pretty dress I bought for you." She states simply, her tone not angry or disappointed, but plain emotionless.

"I'm sorry, Els, please let me cum." You plead, your legs tensing up and beginning to close around her hand.

She takes her hand out, shoving her fingers into Abby's mouth, who closes her plush lips around her knuckles and licks up your slick, smiling down at you as she does so. It was almost sadistic the way they touched you and looked at you like this.

"Now... are you going to be a good girl for Ellie?" Abby says, gently pressing a kiss to your temple.

You have no choice but to nod, the only thought going through your mind being that this is going to be a long night.

#the last of us #lesbian #queer #ellie williams #lynnielovestlou #abby anderson #fanfiction #abby anderson smut #fanfic #lesbian smut #ellie williams smut #ellabs #ellabs x reader #Ellie Williams x reader #abby anderson x reader

[hearts4sturniolo]

FRIENDS -m. sturniolo

PAIRING; fwb!matt + fwb!reader

CW; smut. pure filthy smut. matts dick game kinda crazy?? dominance. a fuck ton of teasing and begging. praise + a little degration tbh. this ones a long one so bare with me.

AUTHORS NOTE; first tumblr fic, WHO UP! lmk if this is dog ass bc i am open to criticism lol. also comment if u wanna be in the taglist, shoutout gf @americanjcsus for being #1 hypegirl through this process lol.

its friday night and i found my feet carrying me to a door i knew all too well. the home of my best friends. im not even sure if i can consider one of them that anymore, because deep down i know its more.

i ring the doorbell and wait patiently, hearing footsteps on the other side. a hand hit the knob as the door swung open to reveal chris.

"dude this is perfect timing, i was just about to head with nick to mcdonalds so you made it just in time." chris said stepping forward for a swift side hug.

"you mind getting my usual? oh and also an oreo mcflurry please?" i asked while reaching down to take off my shoes.

"yes ma'am, NICK LETS GO!" he shouted, as if on cue, nick came strolling down the hallway.

"hey bae! i didnt know you where coming over tonight?" nick said, pulling me into a bear hug. i wrapped my arms around him, hugging him just as tight.

"nick its friday... where else would i be." i joked as the two laughed before stepping outside for their mcdonalds run.

"do you wanna come with? if not i think matts rotting in his room if you care to join him." chris said

"im good, ill just go bother matt." i said, knowing that i would be doing the exact opposite the second they left the house. chris just nodded before closing and locking the door, leaving you standing in the entryway.

i ventured my way through the house, my brain going into autopilot as i made my way to matts room. the door was closed, dim light leaking from underneath the crack in the doorway. i knocked softly before opening the door.

matt was currently sprawled out, back against the headboard of the bed, legs parted just enough for someone to to fit in-between them.

holy fuck, i thought to myself. he was wearing red plaid pants and a black tight fitting tee shirt. his tattoos visible and his hair tousled.

"hey sweetheart." matt said, patting the space next to him in the bed, insinuating for me to come sit next to him.

i practically stumbled towards him, crawling onto the bed to lay on my stomach next to him. my head resting on my palms as i looked up at him.

"nick and chris left?" he asked, glancing at my figure before regaining eye contact.

"mhm." i responded, his hand immediately reaching out to stroke my cheek. i melted into his touch as he scooted closer.

"i've missed you pretty girl, been thinking about you all week." he spoke in a low tone, goosebumps rising up on my skin as he pushed my hair behind my shoulders.

"what have you been thinking about?" i responded. i knew the answer to this before i even asked, but i wanted to hear it.

"well, i've been thinking about how you were teasing me the other night at dinner, how you thought you were slick rubbing my thigh knowing i wouldn't be able to do shit to you because you were going home after." my eyes widened, i had silently prayed he forgot about that, but at the same time, i wanted to know the aftermath. he pushed himself onto his arm, leaning over me now, hand still caressing my face

"been thinking about your pretty lips, those sweet noises that i want to hear come out of them while i fuck you." the sweet sentence turning into one filled with lust. it was like he was teasing me at this point.

"oh, and how good you would look with my dick filling you up." he said so casually that i almost passed out. i couldn't take much more, i reached up to thread my fingers through his hair before pulling him into me. our lips smashing together before we could even think of anything else.

he immediately sprung into action, his lips moving roughly against mine. his tongue poking out to push past my lips and into my mouth. i moaned a little bit at the action as his tongue roamed around my mouth with purpose. after a moment, his lips retracted from mine, making their way down to my neck.

he licked a long stripe up my neck before sucking harshly, making multiple dark marks on my skin. his hand trailing its way to my shirt and crawling up my back to unclasp my bra like he has so many times.

"take your shirt off." he mumbled against my skin, i shot up to peal my shirt off before he did the same with his own. his tattoos now much more visible as he leaned to grab my lower back, pulling me closer towards the headboard of the bed.

he leaned down towards my neck again, slowly kissing hungerly down towards my chest. he blew a cold breath onto my nipple while looking up towards me.

"matt." that's all i could say, my mind was racing because of how slow this all felt like. he was taking his time to tease me but doing so passionately to keep me hooked.

"tell me what you want, baby." i stayed silent as my back arched, trying to get his mouth connected to my skin. his hand roughly pushed me back down.

"your such a slut, i've barely touched you and you're already speechless. now you either answer, or i stop." he propositioned

"matt please, just- i need you so bad. want you to touch me" i whined, skin starting to ache from the lack of contact.

without a second to spare, he leaned down and connected his mouth to my chest. my hands shot to his hair again as he sucked on my nipple. quickly after, giving my other boob the same treatment before sucking on the surrounding skin. matt was completely unbothered as he made more dark marks, that only we knew would be from him.

his hand slid down my waist and onto the waistband of my shorts. hooking his finger onto them, he slowly traced the top.

"please, please matt." i begged, pleading with him to touch me where i needed him to most.

he listened, hand tugging down my shorts and panties in one motion. he looked at me before looking down, hand inches away from my pussy.

"god you're soaked baby," he said, whimpers exiting my mouth as he ran one finger up my slit. he asked before placing his finger on my clit "you want me to touch you right here?"

"god yes please matt-" i was cut off by my own moan. matts finger making quick work to my puffy clit. he pulled his finger off only before he switched to his thumb. he rubbed in a circle before his middle finger teased the outside of my hole.

he spared me the words before pushing a single finger into me. my moans quickly filling the air in his room as he took that as a sign to add another finger.

"you're clenching around my fingers so well, my good girl." the name almost causing me to cum on the spot. he continued the pace, pushing his fingers in and out of me as i barrled towards my orgasm.

"matt- im gonna cum-" i spoke, panting heavily and bucking my hips up into his fingers.

matt immediately pulled his fingers out of me before making quick work to unzip his own pants. i whined at the lack of contact he moved off the bed, tearing his pants off his ankles.

"come here baby, come show me how bad you want me." he spoke, voice low and gravelly. i crawled over towards him and positioned myself so that i was on my knees, hand instinctively going to palm him through his briefs.

"fuckkk, my god." he hissed, head falling back on his shoulders and his hand shot out to grab the one that was touching him. he guided my hand to the waistband and nudged me to take them off.

i pulled them down and his cock sprang out, hitting his bare stomach and leaving a small precum spot against his skin. he was painfully hard and his tip was practically leaking. i swiped my thumb over his tip to collect some of his cum before bringing it up to my mouth to suck on it, doe eyes looking up at him.

his demeanor shifted and his eyes were filled to the brim with lust as he quickly turned me over and pushed me down onto the bed, chest against his soft grey sheets as my lower half was vulnerably out in the air.

he came to stand behind me, before i knew it, i felt his dick slide up my folds. i gasped, lips parted slightly as i waited his next move.

"matt fuck me please." i begged, pushing my hips back against him

"only since you asked so nicely baby." he said before pushing his entire dick length inside of me. i choked on a moan as he slowly and deeply thrusted into me.

"gotta make sure you get every inch, you deserve it." he mumbled, low grunts coming from him as he ever so slightly quickened his pace.

his hand made their way to my hips, helping guide me back against him. his dick hitting my g-spot with every thrust. the sounds coming out of me filled the room. i knew that if anyone else were home, they would know exactly what was happening, there was no denying it.

he pulled me back harder against his cock as he started to ram into me at an ungodly pace. one of his hands leaning over to push my head into the bed, my cheek smushing against it.

"you're mine, thats it, you understand that?" matt spat

"yes matt. yes, yes." thats the only words that i could form. brain fogging up as i was being fucked dumb by my best friend.

"good girl," he grunted, my pussy clentched around his dick as i chased my orgasm. "my good girl, you're so tight for me and only me."

my only sounds switching between moans and heavy labored breaths as he fucked me.

"fuck baby- im so close- wanna fill you up." he mumbled again. pounding me at an even faster rate as he reached down with the hand that was on my waist, to rub my clit in circles.

"please- please matt," i pleaded, high so close i could almost taste it. "cum in me."

with that, i felt his dick twitch and a warm liquid filling my pussy. the feeling alone causing me to cum all over his cock, our juices mixing together.

he slowed down his pace but continued to fuck both of us through our orgasm. much more loud grunts now coming from him as his sensitive dick twitched more frequently inside of me, sending shocks through my body.

after a moment, he slowly pulled out of me, guiding me to lay down onto his bed as he pulled his underwear back on to make a quick trip to the bathroom. he came back seconds later with a wet and dry towel, helping clean myself and then himself up.

time moved so fast that it felt like the next second, he was throwing one of his shirts over my head and pulling the blanket up after climbing into the bed next to me.

i could barely keep my eyes open as i saw him looking at me, "you did so good sweetheart, come here." he pulled me towards him. i smiled into his chest as i spoke next.

"thank you." i blushed, eye contact so prevalent now that it made my heart ache. my face felt hot as he played with my hair, finding something to put on tv while we waited for his brothers to get back. my heart ache spreading to my whole chest now. only one thing plagued my mind in that moment.

it was that im not sure how much longer we could be just "friends".

#Spotify #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo smut

[queenariesofnarnia]

never underestimate the bunny

gif not mine!

wc: 642ish

Alastor x f!bunny!reader

warnings: tiny amount of violence, some verbal harassment( not from alastor), a wee bit of blood, and a mildly suggestive ending

🦌❤️ You were a sweetheart no doubt about it and none of your friend s doing out what landed you in hell. Especially as a bunny demon, everyone believed they had to protect you. Until one day you and Angel were out shopping.

“Toots you should get the red dress! it made ya smile sparkle” Angel told you as you tried on a new article of clothing. “Only if you get the matching black skirt with me!” you tell him laughing and he joins in. As you finished up shopping and began to stroll back to the hotel a group of sinners started pestering you. “Come here little bunny” one creep said “I bet you’d make a pretty little fuck toy” another yelled out. You grip your bags continuing on your way. Angel ignoring the thirst thrown his way since he was used to it. Until another one of them yelled at you. “Don’t be a bitch and let us breed you little bunny” the third one yelled. Huffing you place your bags in Angel’s hands. Your ear twitching in annoyance. “Angel be a doll and just head back. I’ll catch up” you instruct your friend. He looks at you like you’ve lost your mind but you gave him a nod of reassurance. You turn around facing the men before pulling a gun out your small purse shooting each man in their dick before pouncing on them ripping into them. Once you were through you placed your gun back in your purse turning away from the bodies to make your way back to the hotel. Angel witnessed it all, once you pulled your gun out he didn’t want to miss a chance to see you fight. “You got some blood on you toots” he gestures to your dress that was now stained. You shrug and laugh it off together. Making jokes about it until you walk through the doors. You receive a normal greeting from everyone until charlie screams. “You’re covered in blood!” she’s pointing at your dress. you just nod at her reaction. “Are you hurt?” Vaggie asked looking you over. “It’s not my blood” you tell them calmly. “Ya should’ve seen it.Cottontail here knows how to hold her own” Angel praises setting the bags by the couch before heading to the bar to bother Husk. He begins telling Husk the story as you head upstairs, you notice a shadow following you and don’t mind it until you get to your room. “You can come in but no telling Alastor if you see more than you should” you joke with the shadow. “Don’t tell me what cher?” the beautiful static voice reaches your ears as he appears in your room. “Well Alastor I was telling your shadows they may not inform you if they see more of me than they should.” you tell him with a smile. “Now my dear bunny, what is the fun in that hmmm?” he asks you stepping closer taking your appearance in. “Might I say you look like quite the dish covered in blood” he compliments his smile not leaving his face. “They probably would’ve tasted awful” you tell him jokingly. it made him genuinely laugh, it’s a rare sound you had the pleasure of hearing. “I’m sure you’re absolutely right my dear. I overheard our lovely spider friend telling dear ol’ Husker how you handled the scum who accosted you.” he steps closer to you caging you in between the dresser and his body. you are place your hands on his chest smiling up at him. “Your’e looking at me like I’m your next meal darling” your voice soft, the term of endearment slipping past your lips with ease. “With the way you look cher. You might be” he places a light kiss on your shoulder before giving you space. “Just say the word”

#alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #angel dust x reader #the radio demon