#=but whatever it is I’m sure it will be Different.

[cthulhus-curse]

Leather & Lace

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4,012

Warnings: Age Difference, Breeding, Degradation, Jealousy, Mommy Kink, Nursing, Pervy!Stepmom!Wanda, Possessive Behavior, Praise Kink, Slight fluff, Somnophilia, Strap-Ons, Vaginal Fingering | 18+ Minors DNI

Summary: After a split-second decision, Wanda finally gets what she wants from her lovely little stepdaughter.

Eyes remained emotionless as a front to the anger that lay beneath them. Watching intently, they studied the somber scene, narrowing as they watched a hand lower to a spot they had previously claimed as their own — of course not officially, but you could only dream.

You hadn’t spoken a word during the entirety of the morning. Glaring at your father was second nature at best as you hid behind the excuse of him being away for too long and never having time for you. Adulthood carried on many things, one of them being a disdain for being around him. The same couldn’t be said for your stepmother though.

Wanda laughed as the man whispered something in her ear, biting down on her bottom lip — it was a move you found to be adorable each time you feasted your eyes upon it. She was finishing off the dishes, breakfast already having been served in earlier hours. The perfect housewife was to keep you all fed, to be a submissive entity for your father to walk all over.

“We were thinking about going to the park today. Wanda wants to take the twins there,” your father piped up when turning to you. A set of twin brothers from Wanda’s previous marriage were the only ones to keep to sane as you watched the relationship between your dad and stepmom develop further for years. “Wanna come?”

“Whatever,” came your huff. The harsh gaze Wanda threw at you made you squirm, but your eyes faltered and ignored it out of fear.

“Come on, don’t be like that. We just want to have some family time-”

“Not my family,” you repeated as you had many times through the years. “I’m not a kid. I don’t need mommy,” you turned to Wanda staring daggers, “to take care of me. The only reason I haven’t moved out is because I’m waiting to finish college. Then I’m getting the fuck out of this shit town.”

“Y/N, don’t you dare talk like that,” your father warned.

“Or what? You’re not even around enough to give a shit about whether I move or not. It’s always work, work, and wo-” as you rambled on about his absence since his divorce from your mother, his phone rang. Not even a Saturday, the boys with their father for the weekend, could be spent in peace with his own family. “Speak of the devil. Are you gonna answer that?”

Without a word, your father excused himself. During the early years of having moved with him, you surely blamed him for the lack of parenting he carried out. You’d move with your mother if she wasn’t halfway across the world teaching English as a second language in various countries, living her life to the fullest as she ignored her motherly duties. All through high school you had been alone. Now in college, the one person you didn’t know you could count on was the surrogate caregiver who pranced to your side.

“Darling, that’s no way of speaking to your dad,” Wanda said in a low voice, tender as fury rose from the depths of her words. “You should apologize. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

“I’m not doing jack-shit for you. You’re not my mom, you bitch.”

Surely the tone was harsher than you meant it to be, especially when the woman towered over you in the kitchen, you sitting on the stool by the island gulping down a know of fear. She tilted her head and suddenly all the years of anger, hatred, and surprising lust you felt for her vanished, let alone for the last one of course. With dark viridescent eyes dripping with need, she dropped her gaze to your lips.

Neither of you were fazed when your father ran to get an overnight bag ready. His job called for spontaneous trips across the world much like your mother, seeking out investment opportunities for this technology company, and yet most of the time you deduced he was simply using it as an excuse to fuck his secretary — same as he had done with your mother before marrying Wanda.

While he was adding the finishing touches to his bag, distracted as ever, Wanda grabbed your arm. She didn’t hesitate to use undying strength when pulling you away, the heels of her flats clicking against the hardwood floor when you made your way upstairs. Regardless of how much you attempted to twist away, she still held you in place.

“Stupid girl,” she growled. “It’s time we have a little chat about those icky moods of yours.”

You never expected to find yourself thrown over your bed, the woman locking the door as quick as she could. Many times she’d be the one to crack it open and watch as you undressed, a hand shoved between her legs as she hummed at herself. Not that you knew, but she was devoted to making you hers.

“You’ve been in a terrible mood all week, I get it, but don’t you ever dare speak to me like that,” was the first thing Wanda yelped as she towered over you, you sitting by the edge of the bed while she stood proudly. “You need to learn to behave.

“Oh shut up.”

To say her fury escalated at that would be an understatement.

“What’s gotten into you?” She frowned at you, crowing her eyes before stalking forth. As soon as Wanda tilted her head once again, a trademark move of hers, you knew you were done for. She explored your features, eventually averting her gaze down between your legs that you were rubbing against one another. “Oh I see.” A smile spread across her face as she softened up. “Does it maybe have anything to do with this?”

Eyes widened as Wanda, who was well pressed against you, heavy hot breaths falling on your face, cupped your clothed sex. She roughly pressed her fingers against you until she rubbed you, giving you pleasure even with the layers you wore. The hum she let out was all-knowing. Leave it to her to solve a mystery that to you ages to come up with an answer for.

“Wanda what are you-”

“Shhh be quiet, baby. You wouldn’t want your dad to find out, right? Don’t you want to be a good girl for mommy?” She raised her eyebrows, deep green eyes crawling into your soul and pulling out the submissiveness that lay beneath, and you couldn’t help but nod immediately. “Good. Now let me make it better. Your little pussy is all sticky and needy huh? I bet you get all hot and bothered when you see mommy. Tell me, sweetheart, have you touched yourself before? Has my pretty girl made herself cum at the thought of her mommy? I know you have, I’ve seen it. Those fingers look so cute inside your cunt.” She leaned in dangerously close. “Maybe I can show you some of the pictures I’ve taken of you like that.”

“Sometimes,” you admitted to her question, although in your hazy mind you couldn’t tell which one. Closing your eyes, you gripped the bed sheets while she rubbed your clothed cunt lazily.

“Yeah? Well, you have to remember that this is all mine. Mommy owns this pretty pussy of yours. Whenever you want to play with my property, you have to ask for permission.” Wanda sighed with relief as she allowed herself to bask in the wet noises your throbbing pussy made while she touched it. Even with your pajama pants on, she could tell you were oozing with juices. “You have no idea how long mommy’s been waiting for this. I’m glad my beautiful princess seems to like it.”

You didn’t fight back as she began tugging off your clothes until you were fully naked, her own being thrown over the floor only moments later. Being pushed back, you allowed your head to hit the mountain of pillows, the chill of the Fall coming through small gaps in your window causing you to shiver.

Seeing Wanda in her nude gloriousness made you drool. Perfection was her name. Her breasts stood perkily waiting to be played with, a toned stomach, slightly full with beautiful rolls, sitting there adorably crafted just for your enjoyment. There were stretch marks along her thighs, chest, and tummy which you urged yourself to kiss, only she hovered above you before you could so much as move.

Lips pressed against your own languidly. Numerous times you fantasized about what it would be like to kiss her, to have her naked frame brushing against your own, hard nipples on your skin, as your mouths danced to a steady rhythm.

“Touch me, please. Just fuck me or something…” you murmured as Wanda dropped a chaste kiss on your mouth. “Do it now. Fuck,” you grabbed her hand and let it fall on your pussy, humping it as you did with your pillows. “That’s good. Oh Wanda that feels so fucking amazing.”

“How pathetic,” she noted with raised eyebrows. Rather than keep touching you as you wished, Wanda slapped you harshly, brushing against your clit slightly and making you scream. “I said to stay quiet. Are you too stupid to understand? Maybe you’re just a mindless little slut for mommy. I bet there’s not a thought behind those pretty eyes of yours, huh?”

While you wished to relinquish some power, you quickly realized Wanda wouldn’t let you have any of it. After years of stressfully marrying your father, all she wished was to turn the tables, to have a submissive pet to use as a means to relieve all her stress. Watching you from afar, peeking through your door or even taking lewd pictures of you without your knowledge only enticed her madness; especially when she rummaged through your underwear drawer and stole a few pieces to wear while getting herself off at the sight of such images. Her craving for you drove her to the depths of desperation. You’d have to do as she said whether you liked it or not.

Fingers teased your entrance, a mocking laughter coming from Wanda as you squirmed beneath her. Neither of you noticed nor cared about the words of goodbye your father threw into the ghost house, the front door closing as you had a space just for yourselves. A weekend entirely devoted to her destroying you and claiming you as her own — how fun.

“I really should punish you for having such a dirty mouth. Cute princesses like you shouldn’t be saying those words, or making their mommies sad at that,” Wanda explained as she placed a kiss along your jaw, fingers making quick work to sloppily thumb at your clit. Folds were then parted, her hand coated with your slickness. When you sobbed at her words, she chuckled. “Oh but you’re just a little puppy, aren’t you? My lovebug doesn’t know any better. That’s okay. I’ll let it slide just this one time, but if you behave like a stupid whore again then I won’t hesitate to punish you.” She smacked her hand against your aching cunt. “Am I clear?”

“Yes,” you breathed out, arms wrapped around her shoulders as you pulled Wanda close.

“Yes what?”

Crying, clinging to her for dear life, you gave in. “Yes, mommy.”

“Good girl.” In all the years you had known her, never did you feel so many tremors running down your body in the presence of Wanda. “Now lay back and let mommy play with you, toy. Let me see how many fingers I can fill your cute pussy with.”

Heat radiated from her body as she began easing her fingers in your tight hole. For a moment she closed her eyes and thought back to the times she had seen you in compromising positions on top of a girl she knew was a friend from college, touching herself while imagining . Kate was never liked by your stepmother, and seeing as she possessively swiftly thrust a pair of digits inside grunting ‘mine’ beneath her breath, it was clear why.

“So wet and so fucking warm for me. Oh baby you feel divine,” Wanda moaned as she pressed her thumb against your clit, the two fingers inside your sticky, aching pussy being pushed deep until her knuckles brushed upon you. “My little baby was just so fussy. Can’t think straight without mommy’s help? Now, next time your princess parts get icky like this, you tell me about it. No need to be a bad girl. Just tell mommy and she’ll make it all better.”

“Yes, mommy,” you whined. “I wanna cum.”

“Already? Oh no little one I’ve barely touched you! You can go a bit longer for mommy, right? I know you can,” she announced. The way her tits brushed with yours, nipples erect and hypnotizing enough made you want to suck harshly on them. With her newly found position as her mommy, you’d surely ask for that. “Good baby bears only cum when mama bear says so, and I know my girl is really good.”

While making out with her, Wanda nipped oh so softly on your lower lip to silently ask for permission that you gave her. Wetness coated your mouth as she swirled her tongue inside, exploring the area while devouring your own tongue, making all that was yours her own. All she desired was to own you, and without much effort she got exactly what.

“You’re such a little whore, you know that, right? I’ve seen the way you touch yourself. Do you think about me when you stretch your pussy out with two fingers, sweetheart, or is it your friend that you imagine? You don’t need her. Mommy will teach you how to be good, and I promise I will always take care of my pretty angel. I don’t think she can do that, can she?” Wanda’s jealousy was rampant, but had always remained silent and simply waited for the time to take her prey as the predator she was. “Hmm and you’re so tiny. Such a delicate doll. It’s so cute how much of you I own already.”

By no means were her movements tender. She had waited long months to have you, always coming second to the disdain you had for humanity let alone for Kate. The poor thing was nothing but a friend you had fun with at times, but Wanda wasn’t about to let you whore yourself off to someone else when she was to care for you. Daily inspections would be a must to ensure her little one was hers.

“So full,” you whispered with your heart on the line for her. All Wanda did was curl her fingers up, making you scream with her mouth hovering above your own. “I’m so full with you, mommy.”

Your velvety walls clamped down harshly against her causing Wanda to grunt. “Hmm time for my little puppy to cum. Be good and show me what I want. Show me who your rightful owner is.”

When you finally did come undone, Wanda was there kissing your pleasurable screams away, still deep in your pussy fucking your through your orgasm, not letting you catch your breath as she made you hers.

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

During certain nights Wanda found her desperation growing by the second. She didn’t have trouble slipping away from her shared bed with her husband and instead waltzing into your room, a rather large toy nestled comfortably between her legs. Entering your room in the depths of darkness was nothing new, but with the hunger she felt, it would be the first time she took you without caring for what you had to say in response.

Earlier that day you had excused yourself to explore the world with friends. Weekends were the only times where you got to relax, to ignore all the workload being crammed through the week and instead find your inner peace. Since the weeks you’d been secretly seeing Wanda you’d spend extra time with her, the boys and your father away on certain occasions, so not having you around was a rather lonely task your stepmother had to get through by herself.

All Wanda had wished to do was wrap you up safely in her arms and nuzzle her face against your shoulder. After having cleaned on that day, the twins having gone away with your father on a camping trip, she entered your room. There she found a frame picture of you and her from when you finished your first year of college and were taken out to dinner as a means to celebrate. Once she undressed herself and eased down on a stuffed animal of yours, one she gave you as a birthday present the previous year, Wanda began getting herself off. Humping the plushie and teasing her clit with one hand, the other held the picture in place as she eyed your shining face, moaning your name as she came.

Now in the late hours of the night, she’d finally get her toy to play with.

When she first shifted over the bed, you slurred slightly. The last thing she’d want was to awaken you from your peaceful slumber knowing you never got enough sleep with all the stress that floated around you.

“Close your eyes, baby,” Wanda’s voice was low as she pulled at your pajama pants along with your underwear, her silk robe already pooling on the floor. “Let mommy touch you a bit. I’ve missed my little slut so much.” Laying you on your side, your cunt in full view, she ran a hand through your slick folds. “So wet already. Oh I bet you spent all day fantasizing about being fucked like the whore you are. Now be a good girl and take my cock.”

While still asleep she grabbed her strap and slid it up and down your slit, making sure to pry your legs open a bit so she could swirl it across your clit. Once fully coated with your juices, jerking herself off a bit as though it was real, Wanda began inching inside, groaning as she basked in the sloshing sounds that came as she stretched out your tight hole.

Strong hands went to grip your hips in place. Wanda pressed her faced against the back of your neck, cheeks flushed and barely visible in the dimly lit room as she fucked you nice and slow. Even in your sleep you were responsive, little noises coming from your parted lips. The deeper she moved her cock in your pussy, the more you stirred.

“Mommy?” You groggily asked, eyes fluttering open slightly. “What’s going on? I feel really weird.”

“It’s okay, princess. Mommy just missed you. Won’t you let me touch you?” Although exhausted, you nodded. “Good girl. I even brought the special toy. You can have all of mommy’s treat. Do you want it now, baby?”

Hugging you from behind, Wanda pumped her cock in and out of your puffy cunt, a hand sneaking between your legs to stimulate your clit. She had to remind you to be quiet, that only good girls would get rewards. The last thing she wished was to alert your father of the rather taboo relationship you held, especially knowing it would come to an end.

For a few moments your mommy allowed herself to enjoy the feeling of your pussy. She desperately wished to truly understand how tight you were as your walls held her faux cock, the toy sliding past your folds as you hungrily took it all. Neither of you minded the mess that formed on your sheets, Wanda being far too blissed out as she desired to take everything from you – your sanity, your freedom, and your love would be all hers.

“Whatever my baby wants she gets,” she husked out.

Wanda pulled out her cock, leaving you empty and sobbing with exhaustion. Right as she was about to squeeze her drenched length, you grabbed her wrist, turning over so you could face her. She left you with droopy eyes and drool falling down your chin.

“Mommy, inside please,” you begged. Grinding yourself down against her bulbous dildo, you threw your head back. The way in which you clung to her, hands on her shoulders with eyes drifting down to her uncovered tits made her pity for you grew. “Please, I need it.”

“Oh but honey I don’t want to get my fleshlight all dirty.” Wanda nuzzled her face against your own, her flushed cheeks brushing yours. “Maybe if you beg a little…”

“Please mommy! I promise to be such a good girl, a whore, and let you use me whenever you want to. I need you to stuff me. I can't stop thinking about you inside me filling my pussy up with your treat. You can use me even when I say I don’t want to. Please, just cum inside me. I need it so bad.”

Wanda was more than content with your response. She cupped your face with a hand, the other guiding her strap-on back inside your pussy. “Hmm such a good slut. So desperate to have her cunt pumped full with my cum. Maybe I can even give you a baby. Would you like that, sweetie? For mommy to stuff you so full that you have my pups? Oh how cute you’d look.”

The redhead didn’t waste any time squeezing her cock halfway inside you until white sticky drops began squirting in your pussy. Foreheads remained together, your lips tenderly touching down upon hers, kissing mommy innocently, as she filled you up. With cum dripping down your inner thighs, Wanda made sure to fuck all of the seed back into you.

“Mommy’s fleshlight,” Wanda breathed out as she held you in place, hips moving and turning your bodies into one. “All mine. No one can have this pussy, baby. Only I can stuff you with pretty pups. Never forget that.”

“I’m full,” you cried. Not only did you have your cunt all pumped with cum, but also Wanda’s thick cock stretching you out.

“I know baby, mommy knows.” Wanda kissed your worries away, eyelids feeling heavy as she shared her love with you. She pulled down your head so you’d press up against her chest, humming calmly. “You can use your mouth if it’ll make it better, darling. Latch on. Mama is here to help you get some more sleep, okay?”

Nodding, you did as you were told. You had yet to reach your climax, so close yet too tired to beg for more. Wrapping your lips around one of her erect nipples, you latched on quickly. Many times you spend laying on top of Wanda, your hazy mind drifting you into Sandman’s realm, as she helped you relax against her. It was one of the many ways she coaxed your stress from school away.

While you began falling asleep once again, mouth suckling on Wanda’s breast, the older woman thrust her hips. She spent the rest of the night using her fleshlight – your aching cunt – before removing the strap from her waist and riding one of your thighs. Holding you close to her chest, mouth agape over skin, Wanda moaned whenever her clit brushed against you. She was practically dripping – only a few minutes passed up until she came undone after having brought you orgasm after orgasm.

To your dismay she was gone by the time you woke up in the morning. That Sunday was spent happily dancing around each other, Wanda’s hand brushing against your ass from time to time before she pressed you against the kitchen counter from behind when no one was looking – it was the perfect opportunity to grope your tits then. Each little moment the two of you got alone, you were sure to make the most of it. And of course when you showered, your stepmother was there peeking through the curtain with a hand between your legs – at least until you invited her inside, through the week rewarding her with various texts with lewd pictures of you she’d treasure forever.

[cybrasigilism]

Hey, I was wondering if you could do a dae ho x reader x thanos, where they both are trying to do outlandish stuff to get the readers attention on them and not the other. they're both so goofy at times

This Means War (Kang Dae-ho/Thanos X F! Reader)

warning: no smut! | not proofread | lowercase intended | OOC (bc daeho and thanos don’t really interact in the series) | love triangle(?) | this is my interpretation of these characters, please be respectful even if my opinions on the characters differ from your own

characters: kang dae-ho (player 388), thanos/choi su-bong (player 230)

A/N: this may be the most entertaining fic i’ve written yet! thank you so much for the brilliant request, i’ve tried my best to make it an enjoyable read for you all! this is a mixed POV story so apologies for the confusion as it reads, i wanted to try something different but if this was too much of a confusing read i likely won’t do this style of fic very often. AND ik its short, i’m so sorry, but this is only the beginning of this story (if you guys like it)

–––-𖤓⋆˖⁺‧₊𖤐₊‧⁺˖⋆☾-–––

dae-ho was sure he’d never seen someone quite so captivating in all his life. the moment you grabbed his attention from across the room at the very beginning of the games, he knew he had to get to know you. whether it was the way your face managed to light up the dark atmosphere of the common area, or the way you carried yourself in a calm, collected, self assured manner amongst all the uncertainty; he fell head over heels effective immediately.

unfortunately for dae-ho, he wasn’t the only one who seemed to have noticed you. thanos had clocked you the minute people started filing out from their bunks, and he felt things right then that he hadn’t felt for anyone before. he was totally drawn to you, it was almost as if he knew he had to stake his claim on you sooner rather than later, lest someone make their move first. he would be damned if he lost his chance with the most gorgeous girl he’d ever laid his eyes on to some random.

as for you, you were spending more of your time focusing on your current situation rather than scouring the location for potential suitors. you didn’t notice any familiar faces, to be honest you were kind of relieved at that. you would have been embarrassed to see a colleague or a friend there, knowing full well the predicament that you must have been in to even consider joining these sketchy games. you maintained a level head up to the point where you were all led to this photo center like cattle, taking photos for whatever reason before entering the first game. just as you were joining a line to take your photo, you heard someone call out your number out of nowhere.

“sẽnorita!” the same voice called out once again this time followed quickly by a whistle, causing you to turn your head and see this purple-haired guy with a crowd of people surrounding him. “i’ve got room for one more here, c’mon!” he beckoned for you to join the cramped circle. you felt your face contort into a concerned expression before simply turning away and joining a line far away from whatever that was. you could still feel that guy look at you for a quick moment, but when you glanced in his direction, he was long gone.

—

this first game, Red Light Green Light, was not anything like what you or anybody else were expecting. when the rules stated that players who moved would be eliminated, you didn’t conclude that that meant they would be assassinated. poker face be damned, you could feel your body vibrate every time that creepy doll turned her head back round to face the players, eyes scanning for even the slightest bit of movement. the next time you were all allowed to move forward, this tall, dark haired guy moved in front of you almost deliberately. when you all froze again you noticed he had his hand extended out to you behind his back, with his mouth covered you could hear him whisper “just stay close to me, okay?” you waited before that damned dolls head was turned around again before you grabbed his hand and the two of you took off.

once you both crossed the finish line, you looked up at your mystery saviour. “thank you for doing that..” you said, voice noticeably shaken from all the death you witnessed, and were still witnessing. he looked down at you and smiled. “of course, anything for you.” that last part warmed your heart, it was nice to know you had already found someone you could rely on in these trying new circumstances of yours. you let your gaze shift off subconsciously and noticed that purple headed guy from earlier, staring daggers at the man who had just essentially saved your life.

—

after the surviving players returned to the common area, cast their vote, and split off back to their beds, thanos made a b-line for dae-ho, looming over his bed to which dae-ho quickly took notice.

“that was some lame shit you pulled.” dae-ho had never been so perplexed at another person in his life. “what’re you talking about?” he asked, earning a laugh from the quirky stranger. thanos kneeled down, making eye contact with dae-ho now. “you know damn well, 388,” he started, spitting out dae-ho’s number as though it were a dirty word. “swooping in, acting like the hero for that chick.” dae-ho looked unamused, trying to be unassuming about the whole ordeal. “i don’t know what you think this is, i was just trying to keep somebody alive-“

“i didn’t ask what you were trying to do, did i?” thanos interrupted, getting closer to dae-ho now. “just know this. she’s mine. so i wouldn’t waste my time if i were you.” dae-ho held back a laugh, before looking his newfound opponent up and down. “that’s funny, the feeling didn’t seem mutual when she gave you the cold shoulder during photos.” thanos scoffed, turning away in an attempt to keep his cool. “whatever man, she’s just playing hard to get.” his voice trailed off at the end, when he clocked you sitting in your own bunk, knees to your chest.

“yeah, i don’t think that’s true.” dae-ho stated, getting up out of his bed, and patting thanos on the back. “i get that you’re probably used to having girls fall over themselves for you, so it’s definitely shocking when someone like that doesn’t give you a second look.” dae-ho’s slight smugness about the whole ordeal left thanos speechless, watching with seething rage as dae-ho made his was over to where you were sat. he knew that the games weren’t the only thing he wanted to win over now. he knew he was certainly not going to let dae-ho captivate your heart so easily, and he knew that he was definitely not going down without a fight.

dae-ho knew something too: he now knew he had to keep you safe from thanos because something inside told him that if that maniac was capable of inadvertently killing random people in order to advance in the first game, there was no telling the lengths he would go to gain your attention. he made a vow to himself to never let you out of his sight while you were in your current situation. over his dead body would he let someone like thanos prevail.

the two of them both made a nemesis that day, each one swearing that they could get to you before the other did. they now knew it was about more than just the games.

they now knew that this meant war.

–––-𖤓⋆˖⁺‧₊𖤐₊‧⁺˖⋆☾-–––

apologies again for the length, or lack there of, of the fic! if anything i want to make this multiple parts but i understand if the format of this particular fanfiction is too confusing, and again i am sorry for that! just wanted to experiment :)

as always, advice and constructive criticism on how i can improve my writing are appreciated and requested!

have a splendid day/night lovelies 😙

tags: @gongyoosgf @agornotsworld @kvstjwonnie @marymustdie @pink-apples001 @fiicalapsiholoaga @wonestro @luvlyfandoms @putrescentpoet

[tsuutarr]

Escaping Mason au? 👀👉👈

(this ask kind of confused me so I'm sorry if this isn't what you wanted lol but here's an AU where Mason decides to trap Reader for whatever reason!)

“Thanks so much for helping me pack,” you say, setting down a cup of tea in front of Mason. He smiles at you, sweet and soft like he always does.

“Of course, sugar. I’m always here t’help ya.” His large hand gently grabs the cup of tea as he sips it leisurely, his broad back leaning into the back of your chair. It’s one of the few pieces of furniture you have left to pack, the more heavy pieces being packed away thanks to Mason’s help.

Honestly, you’ll miss this place – being away from the hustle and bustle of the city has been nice. Plus, Mason has always been really kind to you, helping you whenever you needed him. Today is a great example of that – on top of helping you pack, he’s also baked some cookies for you to snack on.

“You know,” you say, taking a cookie and nibbling on it. “I’ll miss you, Mason.”

“You’re talkin’ like we aren’t gonna see each other again,” he says, laughing lightly. It makes your heart feel warm. “Y’know you can always keep in contact with me.”

“Yeah, thanks,” you respond, smiling, before you yawn.

“Y’should get some rest.” Mason places his tea cup down. “You worked hard today.”

You yawn again. “Mm, yeah, maybe I will,” you agree lightly, feeling your body sag from the weight of your tiredness. It’s unnatural how fast your body seems to droop, your limbs feeling foreign to you. But you don’t feel alarmed just yet – Mason’s there to make sure you’re safe, after all.

When you come to, you’re in an unfamiliar room, sort of. It’s… different, yes, but for some reason, it has most of your personal belongings inside. Blinking away your drowsiness, you look around, before alarm begins to settle into your bones. The heavy chain around your neck doubles your anxiety, the familiar sight of your belongings doing nothing to soothe you.

As the door clicks open, your head swivels in panic, before a wave of relief washed over you as Mason comes in. He’ll save you, surely!

It isn’t until you notice how relaxed he looks – how pleased – that panic begins to bubble inside you again.

“Hey, Sugar,” he hums, twirling a collar with a cowbell around his finger. “D’you like your new room?”

“Wh–what… what–”

“It’s tragic, really – you really hurt my heart, sweetheart.” The way his expression droops is quite convincing to that point that you almost feel bad. “You were just gonna leave like that? Leave me? That’s quite rude of you, don’t ya think, Sugar?”

You’re too stunned – too shocked to respond. 

He smiles, his previous illusion of sadness gone. “But it’s all okay now – y’can just stay here with me.” With easy steps, he begins to approach you, collar ready in his hand. 

“I’ll be so good to you, Sugar.” The cowbell on the collar jingles with every step he takes. You feel dread fill your stomach, unable to do anything against him as he gently, but firmly, grabs your chin to lift your head, giving him access to your neck. Tears wet your cheeks as you feel the collar snap against your throat like a promise of your future captivity.

“Don’t worry, darling. You know I would do anythin’ for ya.” Gingerly, he wipes away your tears, looking pleased. “All you’ve got to do is be good for me.”

[wikaa33]

my first shift!

so, i went to sleep at like 2 am. it’s really important to mention that during that day i felt worse when it comes to my mental health because of personal reasons.

for this whole day all i’ve been thinking about is how badly i want to be with my s/o right now and generally in my dr. as i was going to sleep i decided that i am not going to try to shift tonight, i will simply imagine my s/o hugging me so i can comfortably fall asleep and feel safe. and i also had decided that i will be taking a break from shifting to focus on my mental health - a funny thing is that i thought to myself “what if i shift tonight? just like those people who go on a break and they shift unintentionally. that would be funny”

i went to sleep. i woke up during the night and i see that there’s a peace of white fabric above my bed. and now, long story short - i decided that if i try to shift in a few days i’ll first shift to my own room with a slight difference (my walls were supposed to be pink or i was supposed to have a white bed canopy). then i’ll shift to my dr. so i wake up and i see this white peace of fabric above my bed right, my first thought was:

“no way that this is happening right now.”

and as i said that i sat on my bed and started to affirm that i am in my dr, that my s/o is right beside me. my head started spinning so much, i laid my head on my lap, i don’t know how to explain it. everything was spinning to this point that i didn’t know what was going on, i saw some bright lights (this is kinda weird because i would never think that i will feel symptoms as i kinda don’t really believe in that but whatever). as i was affirming that my s/o is right beside me, i’ve felt that someone is sitting on my bed. i’m assuming it was him. but well, i got scared! LMAOO and as i opened my eyes i saw that i am in my room.

dumb me didn’t realize that i had shifted. i looked at my phone and saw that it’s exactly 3:20 am. i saw that my door was opened (i never leave it this way). it made me really anxious and i decided to go to my parents room to talk with them and calm myself down. as i stood up from bed i saw that there are a lot of push pins on my floor - white and light pink ones. in my cr room i have them on my walls, so i thought that they simply fell down on my floor. i put on some slippers (that i saw for the first time in my life) which were super small. it confuses me why i didn’t realize that it was a shift tbh, maybe it’s because i was super tired and anxious and all i had in my head is to go to my parents? i don’t know.

so as i am walking through the hallway i see that someone is standing behind the door to my house - i saw that because through peephole i could see that the lights outside were turned on. i walk towards the door and i see a person - i thought it was my friend who lives in front of my apartment. i thought that he was trying to find keys to his house but then he started walking towards my door. he knocked - silly me thought that it would be funny to knock back (“haha he probably doesn’t expect this at 3:20 am, i’m gonna scare him”).

as i knocked back i realized that it wasn’t my neighbor (he had his head down the whole time and just now i saw an unfamiliar face). he started knocking aggressively on my door and i saw that more men were climbing the stairs. it was so scary because suddenly more people were knocking on my door. just before i went to tell my parents, i made sure that the door was locked.

my mom woke up and she asked me what’s going on. my dad came up to me. i told them that some weird people are just behind our door. as i towards the door with my parents i see that the door started to open. it made me panic because i thought that it was locked.

these men walked into our house and THEY TOOK OUT A STUN GUN? i reached my hand to take it away but this one guy tried to use it one me. i quickly put my hand back, my dad started to talk with those guys. as he was distracting them, i quickly grabbed the stun gun. i tried scaring them away but ALL OF THEM TOOK OUT NAILS? (you know, these metal things) i got so scared because i thought that if i use this stun gun on them then the nails will become electrified and they will hurt me or my parents.

and that was the last thing i saw. i guess i got so scared that i shifted back. tbh this doesn’t really make sense but trust me: when i came back i was so confused why i am in my bed. my heart was beating. then it clicked: “omg. i shifted”. LIKE IT WAS SO REAL, SO SCARY I HAD TO GIVE MYSELF SOME TIME TO REALIZE WHAT JUST HAPPENED. I JUST WAS SO SURE THAT IT WAS A SHIFT, IT WAS SO REAL. also, when i came back it was 3:28 which is pretty interesting.

when i came back i was STRESSED. like truly LMAOO but now as i am thinking about it - a win is a win right. I SHIFTED YALLL to a scary place but whatever. i learnt so much from this shift, i’m so happy!! i’m assuming that it was a scary experience because while trying to shift from this “kind of a waiting room” to my dr i felt anxious, gotta work on that but also as i said i’m not feeling well mentally so yeah i’m not surprised

but what i’m surprised about is the fact that i didn’t realize that i shifted. but like, it felt so real that i was SCARED FOR MY LIFE I THOUGHT I WAS IN MY CR. kinda sad cause if i had realized that i shifted i would have been able to shift to my dr from there but whatever! i learnt so much 💗🙏🏼

[obligateweirdo]

I think we’re nearing the end of a Golden Era. After the finale of Good Omens is released, we’re going to be on a different footing. It will wrapped, it will be complete. We will have a whole story.

Thus far we’ve been able to hope, fear, speculate and dream—those opportunities will change dramatically after the finale is released.

I’m feeling all kinds of ways about that—it’s been a heck of a ride. “Roller coaster” doesn’t do it justice. Despite the cracks and schisms that have appeared, the fandom remains a fairly friendly and wholesome place. I’m not a huge capital-F Fan; I’m not always obsessed with a story or a show (though I’m usually obsessed with something, be it crochet or raku). I’m not generally up on production schedules and don’t usually read about actors.

However, I’ve been in a few fandoms over the centuries, and I’ve seen them get much more toxic than this one is even now. I’m so grateful. Y’all are a fabulous crowd of angels and demons.

My deal is that I was pretty sure I was going to be disappointed with S3 from the beginning. The characters took root in my mind and, well, they’re mine now, the same way they’re yours, and, little by little, my head-canons have become real to me. This is normal for me—I figured I’d have to watch the whole thing a few times and see if my internal convictions would conform to whatever solution was offered to me. I don’t think I’ve ever gone from this point of the evolution of a story to the end without disappointment. That part hasn’t changed.

Because characters like Aziraphale and Crowley turn real, rather like the Velveteen Rabbit. They enter the company of mythological beings, along with King Arthur and Sherlock Holmes and Finn McCool, and there they will stay, an amalgam of thousands upon thousands of images of them in thousands upon thousands of minds. I love this for them.

But the finale will bring a sea-change, and we’ll be in a new era where all that goes forward is the mythology—and that will be a new jumping-off-point, but also the last foreseeable jumping off point we will have as a group. (A group of the thousands of us.)

I just want to say that I’m very glad to have been here in the Bentley for the ride through hellfire and tartan hills, and I’ll be here for at least a while longer, enjoying the view of the new countryside.

Heigh-ho, said Anthony Crowley.

[snowysosturn]

Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: MDNI, angst, tension, suggestive, arguing

Matt shrugged casually, “Nothing. We just thought there was a delivery at the door.” his voice steady to make it seem convincing.

I felt relief wash over me, thankful for the cover, it would save me having to explain to everyone that my toxic ex just randomly appeared at their house. The calmness in Matt’s response seemed to diffuse the curiosity hanging in the air.

Chris nodded, his suspicion easing, though he didn’t look entirely convinced. “Oh I’m not expecting a delivery just yet anyway.”

Nick interrupted, gesturing toward Nate. “Hey, by the way, since we didn’t really get a chance last time, this is Nate.”

Nate stepped forward, extending a hand with an easy smile. “Nice to meet you, properly this time.”

I shook his hand in return, flashing a polite smile. “Yeah last time was a little rushed.”

“Oh that’s on me!” Nate admitted with a chuckle. “I was half out the door when we met. Hopefully, this time’s better.”

Nate had an effortless charm about him, different from Chris’s boisterous energy, Nick’s sharp wit and Matt’s cold nature.

The group started settling on the couch living room. Nick clapped his hands together, like he had a lightbulb moment. “You know what? We should do a games night tonight. Something fun before you two head off to Vegas. I’ll call Madi, she’s always up for a games night.”

I’d gotten to know Madi pretty well by now, it was a nice feeling to know I'd have another girl around, even if only for a little while. I told myself it could be a good tension breaker, especially with Nate staying under the same roof for the next few days.

“That sounds fun!” Nate chimed in, leaning back against the kitchen counter. “Games are cool and all, but how about we make it interesting? A few drinks maybe?”

Nick grinned. “Now you’re talking!”

Chris chuckled, shaking his head. “Of course, you’d suggest drinking.”

“I’ll go grab the party essentials.” I offered before the conversation could go too far off the rails. “Snacks, drinks, whatever we need. Might as well make myself useful.” I offered since I was starting to feel a bit overwhelmed, maybe a shopping trip would clear my head a bit.

Chris glanced over at me. “You sure? I can go with you if you want.”

I waved him off. “It’s fine don’t worry. You guys can stay here and have a catch up.”

“Alright” Matt muttered, his tone neutral but his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than necessary.

As I grabbed my bag and slipped on my shoes as I ordered an Uber. This could be a fun night, I felt a mix of anticipation and curiosity about how it would all play out.

Once I got to Walmart, I grabbed a shopping cart and started with the priority - spirits.

I picked up a variety of alcohol, vodka, rum, tequila, and even a bottle of apple sourz. I thought it would be a good idea to pick up a crate of beet too, better to have too much than not enough. Next, I searched for the snacks, tossing in bags of pretzels, 2 tubes of Pringles, chocolate, donuts, and a few other random items that caught my eye. 

I wandered into the games aisle, scanning the shelves for something fun but not too complicated. I grabbed 5 Second Rule and Twister and added them to the cart. I debated on picking up Monopoly, but I know Nick refuses to play it with Matt.

As I made my way to the checkout, I felt a little lighter. The morning had been intense, maybe tonight was exactly what I needed.

The day passed in a blur of light tasks and lingering thoughts. Madi arrived and her presence immediately shifted the energy in the house. She had this way of making everything feel easy, and it was a relief to have another girl around for a change.

We set up around the kitchen table, where I laid the drinks and snacks out. Nate slid into the chair next to me, his friendly and easy going demeanor making me feel comfortable despite everything that had happened in recent days. He was effortlessly charming, asking questions about working with Chris and making jokes that had me genuinely laughing.

Chris and Matt stood nearby, chatting quietly. Chris was his usual goofy self, but Matt's mood still felt frosty. He wasn’t ignoring me exactly, but his responses were clipped, his energy distant. So more or less, Matt was acting normal toward me. I tried not to let it bother me. They’d be leaving for Vegas tomorrow, and maybe some space would be good, for both of us.

“I’m keeping it light tonight” Chris said, pouring himself a splash of whiskey on the rocks. “Don’t wanna hit Vegas hungover.”

“Speak for yourself” Nate chimed in with a grin as he stood and walked to the counter, taking a shot of tequila. “This is a warm up for Hawaii.”

Matt chuckled as he shook his head watching Nate take the shot. “I’m good with a few. Got enough chaos waiting for us tomorrow.”

I couldn’t help but think of Chris and Matt navigating the madness of Vegas together. It suited Chris, but Matt? He didn’t seem like the Vegas type. Yet something about imagining him there, relaxed and out of this usual, guarded demeanor, was kinda intriguing.

“Guess that means more for us!” I said, raising my glass to Madi and Nick.

"Alright, enough standing around. Let’s play a game. How about 5 Second Rule? Haven’t played that in ages.” Chris stated, his energy already setting the tone for the night.

Madi cheered in agreement, while Nate gave a nod. "Sounds good, but I’m giving you all a warning, I’m competitive."

“Oh, we know” Chris teased, pulling the game box off the counter and setting it on the kitchen table. "'Mon, everyone grab a seat."

I settled into my chair next to Nate while Matt reluctantly took a spot across from me. Madi next to him with Chris and Nick at each end of the table.

“Alright, rules are simple” Nick said, shuffling the cards. “I’ll read a prompt, and you’ve got five seconds to name three things in the category. If you don’t you lose your turn.”

“Got it” we all replied, almost in unison.

Chris smirked. “Perfect. Let’s see who embarrasses themselves first. I’ll start it off.” He glanced at Madi as he picked up a card. “Name three pizza toppings. Go!”

Madi’s face lit up. “Pepperoni, mushrooms, pineapple!”

Nick slapped the timer just as the last word left her mouth. “Alright, she’s safe. Nate, your turn. Name three sports where you use a ball.”

Nate leaned back, his confidence showing. “Football, basketball, baseball. Easy.”

Nick rolled his eyes as the timer dinged. “Alright, you’re not impressing anyone. Your turn, Y/n.”

I straightened up, bracing myself as Nate read the card this time. “Name three things you’d find in a bathroom.”

“Toothpaste, shampoo, towels” I rattled off quickly, relieved as the timer buzzed right after. “But none of them are mine since I have to keep my things in my room.” I say playfully, my eyes boring into Matt, alluding to the whole bathroom fiasco. He turned away from me rolling his eyes in response.

Chris grinned mischievously as he shuffled the cards, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Alright, how about we make up our own prompts, let’s make this interesting."

Madi raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Interesting how?"

"You’ll see.." Chris said, leaning forward as he glanced at Nate. "Alright, Nate, you’re up. Name three places you’ve made out in that aren’t a bedroom."

Nate chuckled, completely unfazed. "A car, a beach, a supply closet."

Madi gasped dramatically. "A supply closet?!"

"I mean I havent, not.. yet." Nate replied with a shrug as the timer dinged.

Chris cackled and turned to Madi. "Your turn. Name three things you wouldn’t want your parents to find in your room."

Madi’s cheeks flushed, but she grinned. "A vibrator, weed, and.. And uhhhh–" She paused as the timer buzzed, then groaned. "Fuck! That was tough."

"You were doing so well" Chris teased, shaking his head before turning to me.

"Alright, Y/n. Name three reasons someone might get kicked out of a party."

I hesitated for a second before rattling off, "Throwing up, starting a fight, hooking up with the host’s ex!"

Everyone burst into laughter as the timer buzzed.

Matt smirked across the table, his first sign of amusement all night. "Hooking up with the host’s ex? That sounded specific."

I rolled my eyes, ignoring the heat in my cheeks. "It’s just a hypothetical, alright? Your turn, Matt."

Chris scrunched his eyebrows as he thought of a prompt for Matt. "Oh, I’ve got one for you. Name three ways to flirt without talking. "

Matt raised an eyebrow, completely unfazed. "Eye contact, smirking, and-" He paused just long enough for the timer to buzz, then shrugged.

"Come on, you couldn’t think of a third one?" Nick said, laughing.

Matt’s eyes flicked toward me briefly, his smirk lingering. "Maybe I didn’t want to give away all my secrets."

The comment hung in the air for a second, and I quickly looked away, taking a sip of my drink.

"Alright, my turn to stir the pot" Madi announced, turning to look at Chris. "Name three things you’ve lied to a girl about."

Chris groaned but didn’t hesitate. "My age, my job, and.. uh, my feelings."

The table erupted in laughter, and Chris shrugged shamelessly. "What can I say? Gotta keep them guessing."

The game continued, each question more daring and ridiculous than the last, until the room was filled with laughter and empty glasses. It was chaotic, messy, and a little too revealing, but somehow, it was the most fun I’d had in ages.

The vodka lemonade in my hand felt heavier as I swirled it around aimlessly, trying to focus on the game instead of the slight tipsy feeling in my head. Nate was leaning back in his chair, clearly more drunk than anyone else, and grinned mischievously. "Alright, let’s make this more interesting. Truth or dare, spin the bottle style. If you refuse a dare you have to take a shot!"

Madi gasped, laughing as she reached for her drink. "Oh no, this is about to get messyyyyy."

"Messy’s the point" Nate laughed.

“Okayyyy this is my cue to go to bed!” Chris announces as he stands to push his chair in, disappearing downstairs to his room.

Nate rubbed his hands together like a cartoon villain before he spun the bottle, it landing on Nick. “I’ll go with dare to kick this game off properly!” Nick laughed.

“Alright I dare you to down your drink and take a shot straight after, since you’re all for kicking this off the right way!” Nate laughs.

Nick groaned but complied, downing the remainder of his drink and wincing as he followed it with a shot of tequila. "You’re the worst, Nate" he said, coughing slightly, but the group fell in to laughter.

The bottle spun again, this time landing on Matt. His jaw tensed slightly, but he leaned back, looking relaxed. "Dare" he said, his voice calm.

Nick jumped at the opportunity. "I dare you to let someone send a risky text off your phone."

Matt’s eyes narrowed, and he hesitated for a second before shrugging. "Fine, whatever. Who’s doing it?"

Nick’s grin widened as he turned to me. "Y/n."

I blinked, caught off guard. "Me? Are you sure?"

"Oh absolutely" Nick said, sliding Matt’s phone across the table toward me. "You’ve got the perfect touch for this."

Matt gave me a pointed look, his lips twitching slightly in what might’ve been amusement or annoyance. "Don’t screw it up."

I picked up his phone, without a need to unlock it since he handed it over with no code needed. As I was scrolling through his contacts, a message popped up on the screen, from someone called Christina. "Can’t wait to see you again 😉"

I froze for a second, the words glaring at me. Without thinking, I read it out loud. "Oh, looks like you’ve got a message."

Matt’s head snapped up. "From who?"

I tilted the phone slightly, showing the message. "Christina?"

Nate leaned forward, a smirk playing on his lips. "Wait, is that the Christina you met in Vegas? The one from July?"

Matt shrugged nonchalantly, but his expression tightened ever so slightly. "Yeah, that’s her."

Nate let out a low whistle. "She’s gonna be there again this time, isn’t she?"

Matt nodded, his tone casual. "Probably."

I don’t know why, but a wave of jealousy hit me, sharp and unexpected. My grip on his phone tightened for a second before I forced myself to focus on the dare. "Should I send something to her?" I asked, my voice light but edged with something I hoped wasn’t obvious.

Matt raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "If you want to, go ahead."

The room felt suddenly smaller, the playful atmosphere shifting. I could feel Madi watching me, and Nate was clearly enjoying the tension. I hesitated for a moment, debating if I should actually send a message to this Christina or if I should pick someone else.

"Tick tock Y/n! You’ve got to make a move!" Nick teased. 

I forced a smirk, my fingers hovering over the screen.

I quickly typed out a message to Christina, my fingers working faster than my mind. "Hey me too, you might need to get an STD check this time though.'" I laughed to myself before pressing send.

The moment I handed the phone back to Matt, I tried to mask the sudden fluttering in my stomach. I didn’t meet his eyes, avoiding the tension that hung between us like a thick fog. I didn’t know what I was trying to prove or if I was even making sense, but it felt like something had shifted in the air, something I couldn’t undo now.

As I settled back into my seat, the bottle spun again, and everyone’s eyes fell on me. It stopped, right on me.

Nate grinned devilishly, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Alright, Y/n. Truth or dare?"

I groaned, taking a sip of my drink to avoid eye contact. "Dare" I muttered, already regretting it.

Nate leaned back, his grin widening. "Okay, I dare you to spend seven minutes in heaven with me."

I froze.

The room fell silent for a split second, and I could feel all eyes on me, the weight of their gazes too heavy to ignore. Nate’s smirk was a mixture of playfulness and something more serious, something that made my heart race in a way I wasn’t sure I was ready for.

I glanced over at Matt instinctively, only to see his eyes harden, his expression unreadable. A pit formed in my stomach as I quickly turned away, focusing back on Nate.

"Seven minutes?" I repeated, trying to make it sound casual, but my voice betrayed me, thick with uncertainty.

Nate’s eyes were sparkling with excitement. "Yeah, just a harmless bit of fun. No pressure, you can just take the shot."

I swallowed hard. Seven minutes. A small, stupid game. But something told me this wasn’t just about a silly dare. It felt like more, like I was walking on the edge of something I didn’t know if I was ready for.

But, I couldn’t back out now. Not with everyone watching. And definitely not with Matt’s eyes burning a hole in the side of my head.

"Okay" I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Seven minutes, lets go."

Nate and I stood and awkwardly walked toward the tiny supply closet across from Matt’s room, gesturing for me to step inside. The space was cramped, with barely enough room to stand between the washing machine and the wall. I hesitated before following him in, increasingly aware of how quiet the hallway had become. Nick close over the door behind us “Okay I’m setting a timer for you seven minutes now!”

I pulled myself up to sit on the washing machine to try and allow more space. Nate stood in close proximity, leaning against the wall, his broad frame making the already tight space feel even smaller.

He noticed my hesitation immediately and raised his hands in mock surrender. "Relax, Y/n. I’m not gonna do anything you don’t want to do" he said, his voice soft and reassuring.

I nodded. "It’s not that. It’s just-”

Nate chuckled, his grin easy and comforting. "Yeah, I get it. We’re cramped in here like sardines. Not exactly romantic, huh? We can just mess with everyone’s heads when we get out. Pretend something wild happened.”

I appreciated his reassurance, but my mind wasn��t fully there. It kept circling back to that text from Christina, to the girl Matt had brought home just the other night. Why was I bothered by these things?

We went back and forth trying to mess with everyones heads for a few minutes, the tension easing with each playful exchange. Nate had this way of making me forget the discomfort of the situation, his charm and humor cutting through the awkwardness like a lifeline.

But as the seconds ticked by, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of the situation creeping back in. Why had I felt so conflicted when Nate dared me? Why had I instinctively looked at Matt? Why was I holding back? Why was I constantly tiptoeing around Matt’s feelings when he barely seemed to care about mine? The way he acted so indifferent toward me, except for those rare moments of kindness that only confused me more. Maybe I was overthinking, but it felt like I was always waiting for some unspoken approval from him.

But why should I?

I turned back to Nate. His expression was calm, patient, and his smile had a boyish charm that was impossible to deny. He leaned casually against the wall, his hands tucked into his pockets like he wasn’t in a cramped laundry closet playing some silly game.

Maybe I needed to stop worrying so much about Matt, about what he thought or didn’t think. He wasn’t the one in front of me right now.

I took a breath, holding eye contact with Nate, my heart racing in a way that had nothing to do with nerves. He raised an eyebrow in surprise but didn’t move, letting me take the lead.

As I tilted my head toward him, ready to close the distance, Nick’s voice rang out from the other side of the door, loud and teasing.

“Alright, lovebirds! Time’s up!”

I froze mid motion, my face heating up in embarrassment as Nate chuckled softly.

“We’ll I guess thats us!” He said playfully.

I leaned back, unable to meet his eyes as he opened the door. The sudden flood of light felt blinding, and the sound of laughter from the others only added to my growing embarrassment.

As we stepped out, I glanced toward the table and immediately caught Matt’s gaze. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in the way his jaw tightened that sent a bit of confusion through me.

“Have fun in there?” Matt asked, his tone neutral but laced with something sharp beneath the surface.

I wanted to say something snarky, but the words got caught in my throat. Instead, I turned my attention to my drink, needing something to steady myself.

Nate slid back into his seat, clearly amused. “Best seven minutes of my life” he joked, earning a round of laughter from Nick and Madi.

But Matt didn’t laugh. And for some reason, that bothered me more than it should.

Nick suggested switching things up, his voice full of mischief. "How about we switch it up, what about Never have I ever?"

Madi immediately perked up, slapping her hands together. "Ooh, yes! That’s always fun!"

The group agreed, and Nick quickly grabbed a fresh round of drinks, refilling everyone’s glasses to ensure the game could properly escalate. I could already tell this was going to get messy.

We all sat in a circle, Nate to my right and Matt now to my left, the energy in the room buzzing with anticipation. Nate nudged me playfully. "Hope you’re ready to spill some secrets" he teased.

I rolled my eyes, taking a sip of my drink just to brace myself. "I’d watch out too if I were you!" I shot back.

Nick took charge of the first round. He leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying the power of starting the game. “Never have I ever.. kissed someone in this room."

I froze, feeling my face heat up. Nate raised an eyebrow, glancing at me with a smirk, we laughed into eachother knowing we wanted to fuck with everyones heads.

"Someone’s gotta shake things up." Nate laughed.

Madi took the next turn. Never have I ever... hooked up with someone I regretted."

A ripple of tension moved through the group. Nick and Madi both took a sip, Nate chuckling awkwardly.

To my surprise, Matt lifted his glass and drank, his gaze flicking toward me for the briefest second before looking away.

It made me feel strange, but I tried not to deep it, instead, taking another sip of my drink for no reason other than to keep myself occupied.

When it was my turn, I hesitated. Everyone was looking at me expectantly, the pressure to come up with something spicy almost overwhelming.

"Alright. Never have I ever.. led someone on."

The group fell into playful gasps and laughter, but my eyes stayed locked on Matt.

He didn’t flinch. Instead, he picked up his glass and took a slow sip, holding my gaze the entire time. I couldn’t tell if it was a challenge or an admission, but it left me feeling more conflicted than ever.

The tension in the room was thick as ever when it got to Matt’s turn. His face full of mischief. 

"Never have I ever.." he paused for dramatic effect, letting the silence linger just a beat too long, "..had my ex appear at the house I’m staying in, causing a scene."

The words nearly knocked me out. My stomach sank as I stared at him, my drink frozen halfway to my lips. Why the fuck would he say that?

Nick shifted uncomfortably, muttering something under his breath about the game getting too real, but no one really paid him attention.

I felt every set of eyes in the room turn toward me, and heat crept up my neck, both from anger and embarrassment. I didn’t move, didn’t drink, but my hand tightened around the glass in my grip. I felt like everyone was slowly putting the pieces together from this morning.

"What’s the matter, Y/n?" Matt asked, his voice calm but condescending. "Not drinking?"

I finally lowered the glass to the table, meeting his gaze head on. "I’m sorry, are we airing everyone’s dirty laundry now? Or just mine?"

His lips twitched into a smirk, but there was no humor in it. "Just playing the game."

Nate leaned forward, wanting to clear this question. "Alright, let’s not kill the vibe. It’s just a game, right?" He shot Matt a warning look, but Matt didn’t break eye contact with me.

"Right" I said, forcing a smile as I picked up my glass and took a sip. The alcohol burned going down, but it was nothing compared to the fire in my chest.

Madi cleared her throat, clearly trying to cut through the tension. "Okay, let’s move on!" she said, her voice overly chipper. "Um, my turn! Never have I ever.. gone skinny dipping!"

The room tried to recover, laughter breaking out as Nate and Nick both drank, but I barely registered it. My mind was spinning, replaying Matt’s words over and over. Why would he say that? Was he trying to embarrass me? To prove some kind of point? I swallowed the lump in my throat, determined not to let him get to me. If he wanted a reaction, he wasn’t going to get one.

It came back around to my turn, I knew I had an opportunity. I could feel the tension from Matt’s earlier comment still hanging in the air, and I wasn’t about to let him have the last word.  

“Never have I ever.. took a girl home and fucked her multiple times during the night knowing you have a guest in the house who can hear every single bit of it to try and make them feel uncomfortable.”

The room went dead silent.

Every single eye turned to me. Matt’s smirk faltered for the first time all night, his jaw tightening as my words sank in. But I wasn’t backing down. Not after the jab he threw earlier. My gaze stayed locked on Matt, challenging him.

Nick could clearly sense the charged atmosphere but unsure whether to step in. Nate, on the other hand, leaned back in his chair, his hands behind his head as his eyes wide with both amusement and disbelief.

Matt finally broke the silence, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and tilting his head slightly. "Well" he said, his voice smug as ever "if the guest didn’t want to hear anything, maybe they should’ve stayed in their own apartment instead of squatting in mine."

I felt my cheeks flush hot with both anger and embarrassment. "Squatting?" I snapped. "Wow, I didn’t realize letting someone crash because they didn’t have anywhere else to go counted as charity work for you."

Matt shrugged, his gaze burning into me. "Call it what you want. Just saying, the walls go both ways. If you don’t like what you hear, maybe you should get your own place."

"Or maybe" I shot back, "you could show a little respect for the fact that someone else is living here too. But clearly, that’s asking too much."

Nate looked like he wanted to crawl under the table. Madi awkwardly sipped her drink.

"Alright, alright" Nick finally cut in, his hands raised as if to physically push the tension down. "Maybe this game was a bad idea. Let’s just.. take a breather, yeah?"

But I wasn’t done. "No, it’s fine" I said as I stood up, my voice sharp. "Game’s over anyway. Matt’s clearly got all the answers."

I didn’t wait for anyone to respond. I turned on my heel and walked out of the room, my heart pounding as I made my way upstairs.

Behind me, I could hear the muffled sounds of Nick giving out to Matt for how he spoke to me, Madi trying to diffuse the situation. But the only thing I could focus on was the sound of Matt’s voice replaying in my head, over and over again. If Matt wanted a war, he’d just gotten one.

A hot tear streamed down my face as I lay back on my bed. I wasn’t sure where things would take me now, where I could go, how I would get there, if this would affect working with Chris.

But one thing I was sure of was,

I hate Matt Sturniolo.

a/n: when they go low we go LOWER

taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel  @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit

[shanastoryteller]

They destroy a hundred seals in thirty days, which feels like good progress until Sam realizes even if they can keep up this pace, it’s going to take them nearly two years. “There has to be a faster way to do this.”

“It took three hundred thousand years to set the apocalypse in motion,” Castiel says dryly. “Patience is a virtue.”

“It took a year from first seal to last, don’t exaggerate,” he says, pacing the length of the motel room. Cas may not need things like food and sleep, but Sam is still human at the end of the day.

He’s refusing to touch the virtue bit. No one’s keeping track of those and they both know it.

Cas gives him a bitchy look that Sam tells himself he’s not growing fond of. “Yes. Sixty six seals took a year to open. We’ve destroyed nearly twice that in a month. You are not being reasonable about this.”

Maybe not, but they don’t have time to be. Can’t Cas feel it? Like something’s bearing down on them, hot breath on the back of their necks. If there’s one constant in Sam’s life, it’s that he never gets enough time. He doesn’t see why this should be any different. “What if we killed Lilith? She’s the last one, right? As long as the first seal hasn’t been opened, killing her destroys the seal. If the last one can’t be opened, Lucifer can’t be set free. Right?”

Cas tilts his head to the side. Sam kind of hates how quickly he’s picked that up this time around, but he’s only realizing now that it’s a gesture Cas learned from him, not Dean, and the first go around they hadn’t exactly spent a lot of time together in the beginning. “Likely correct. But even if we could find her, I’m unsure of your capabilities.”

“Fuck you too,” he says without heat. “I killed Azazel. I killed her before. I can do it again.”

“She wanted to be killed, last time,” Cas says. “She knew her death would grant Lucifer’s freedom and she did not fight you with all her strength. Killing Azazel is not killing Lilith. They are different beasts.”

“Wait,” he says, “are you telling me that Lilith is stronger than Azazel?”

Having killed them both, that’s really not what he would have guessed. Which means that Cas is probably right. Damn.

“What is stronger, blood or bone?” he asks. “She is Lucifer’s firstborn. There is power there.”

Great. “I’m more powerful this time,” he points out. Azazel’s blood – Lucifer’s blood – is still buzzing under his skin, not quite as hot and pounding as it was at first swallow, but not fading and sputtering out like Ruby’s blood always had. Something in between, maybe, except those first few drops of blood as a baby hadn’t had any immediate affects either. It’s probably a good thing he won’t live another twenty two years. Who knows what Lucifer’s blood will have done to him by then.

“Yes,” Cas says. “I just don’t know if you’re powerful enough.”

And if he’s not, Lilith won’t even kill him. He needs to be alive for Lucifer to wear, after all. No, whatever she does to him will be much worse.

Sam.

He turns, even though he knows they’re alone. But his name had been so clear.

Sam, please!

He looks around uneasily. “Do you hear that?”

Cas blinks. “No.”

“Seriously?” he demands.

Sam, please, please, I’ll do anything, I’ll give anything, please help me. Help her. Sam –

He moves, not entirely sure what he’s doing, shifting from one place to the other, not entirely sure where he’s going until he arrives.

He’s standing in an empty apartment building, a ghost howling in front of him that looks sort of familiar. What the hell?

“Sam!”

Taking his eyes off the ghost is probably stupid, but he looks behind him anyway and finds Ellen on her knees, tears streaming down her face. Jo is clutched in her arms, skin pale and eyes open and unseeing, bits of plaster in her hair and a gaping hole in the wall behind them.

“Holmes?” he asked incredulously, turning back to the ghost who’s getting steadily closer. Last time they trapped him in the basement and cemented him inside. Last time Sam hadn’t spent years researching how to banish the worst sorts of evil.

The incantation rolls off his tongue easily, half Latin and half something older than that, and Holmes screams as he burns up in whisps of smoke.

“Sam, please,” Ellen begs. “Please. You have to help her.”

How does Ellen even know him? They’ve never met before. Not here. He kneels across from her, heart clenching at Jo’s body. He’s supposed to be making things better, leaving and destroying the seals is supposed to fix things. Except he guesses he and Dean weren’t here to find Jo this time and Ellen got there too late. “She’s dead, Ellen.”

“So?” she asks fiercely. “Jim was dead. Caleb, that girl, Meg. They were all dead. You brought them back.”

He stares. “How do you know that?”

“Please,” she repeats. “She’s all I have left. Please, Sam. I’ll do anything. I’ll give anything. Just bring her back.”

Sam knows that desperation. He’s felt that desperation, those miserable four months when hell tore his brother apart.

But he doesn’t have the same overfull, burning power he had with the taste of Azazel’s blood in the back of his throat.

Ellen, proud, tough Ellen, has tears down her face and begging him.

She lost her husband because of his father. He can try and save her daughter.

He reaches out, gripping the back of Ellen’s neck, and pulls her towards him. She opens his mouth for him, kissing him back without hesitation. He bites her tongue, blood hot and salty, and she doesn’t so much as flinch, doesn’t pause, just holds Jo between them and lets Sam take.

When he pulls back, his mouth is full of blood. He leans down, pressing his lips to Jo’s, letting her mother’s blood slide between her lips and presses his hand against her chest, trying to quicken something in her that will bring her home.

She gasps under him and he pulls back. Her eyes dart around, cheeks flushed, and stutters, “What – who–”

Ellen lets out a sob and clutches Jo to her, letting out a choked litany of scolding that has Jo patting her back and making soothing noises that Sam doubts Ellen hears at all.

He sits back on his ass, rubbing a hand over his face and wondering if anyone will care if he just lays down and takes a nap. Resurrection is exhausting.

“How?” Ellen asks, looking at him with red eyes and a puffy face and so much gratitude he can barely stand it. “There’s nothing special about my blood.”

“There’s power in sacrifice,” he says, wincing at the roughness of his voice. “Not a lot. Not enough. But,” he shrugs. He’s spent a lifetime making something out of not enough.

“What did I sacrifice?” she asks. It’s curiosity, nothing more. He can tell that she doesn’t care about the answer, that it really good be anything ant it would still be a bargain well made as far as she’s concerned.

This is how apocalypses are started.

“Nothing I’m going to collect on,” he says tiredly. “But it’s not a trick that works more than once. So be careful, okay?”

That last bit he directs to Jo, who’s just staring at him with huge eyes. “You’re Sam?”

“Yeah,” he says. “How do you know who I am?”

Jo and Ellen share a look, then she says carefully, “I met your brother.”

“How is he?” he asks, almost before she’s finished speaking. “Is he – I mean,” he cuts himself off, grimacing. Sam made out with their possessed father, killed the demon, and left. It’s a real toss up about what messed him up the most. “You shouldn’t hunt on your own,” he says, switching tracks. “You need a partner, one who can show you the ropes if you’re going to keep this up. See if you can talk Dean into it. I think you two will get along.”

Jo swallows. “Uh, okay. You’re not what I expected.”

What had she expected? He’s sure the rumors about him are nothing good, if not outright setting a bounty on his head. Ellen might have been desperate enough to seek him out with Jo dead, but that doesn’t mean anything. He and Dean both ran to demons when they lost the other.

There are footsteps down the hall and he tries to muster a smile for them before he’s leaving, returning to the motel room he’d been in with Cas.

“Where did you go?” he asks.

Getting back here had taken the last bit of energy he had. He flips Cas off and collapses face first into the bed, barely managing to kick of his shoes before he falls asleep.

Dean would have taken them off for him, but Dean isn’t here.

~

When he wakes up twelve hours later, it’s to Cas standing above him and staring.

He groans, rolling over and away from that piercing blue gaze. “Don’t do that.”

“Where did you go?” he asks.

Sam tells him. It doesn’t take long, but his voice is still strained by the end of it.

“You heard her prayers?” Cas asks.

“No,” he says, then frowns. “I don’t know. I guess. Can I do that?”

Cas is learning human expressions one by one. Judgement had come quickly and easily.

Whatever. Apparently he can do that now.

“You said Azazel was a prince of hell,” Sam says. “Does that mean there are more of them?”

“Three,” he says warily. “Why?”

He shrugs. “Think they’d be willing to part with some blood in exchange for their lives?”

Sam’s not going to survive this. He knew that from beginning. It doesn’t really matter he has to do to himself to finish it.

There’s power in sacrifice.

“This is a terrible idea,” Cas says, which isn’t a no.

Apocalypse Never

They help Dad into the cabin, more coherent than he was when they first broke him out, and Sam heads back to the car for their bags, for the Colt, and tries not to think about how everything has gone so quickly to shit. Mom and Jessica’s killer got away, again, but they’re all alive. That’s not nothing, that’s –

The pain hits him so completely and suddenly that he has no chance to brace himself for it. Usually it builds, first prickling pain then greater, but this is something else. It feels like nails are being shoved into his skull, images coming almost too fast for him to follow. He doesn’t realize he’s screaming until it stops, until he comes to with his head in his brother’s lap, Dean’s arms pinning him down and his face white and terrified above him. “Sammy? Sammy, you’re bleeding. What’s wrong?”

His throat is too raw and tight to speak even if he wanted to. He does want to, but he can’t, he can’t say a goddamn thing.

I saved the world for you, he thinks wildly, and I didn’t even get to keep you. How fucked up is that?

~

He doesn’t know if his future self couldn’t send it all back any further, or if he thought that this would give Sam less time to fuck things up.

For a couple terrifying minutes, Sam had taken control of Lucifer. For a couple exhilarating minutes, Sam had the power of an archangel.

That sending the knowledge of the future back four years in the past was the best thing he could think to do with it leaves Sam with a poor opinion of the man he became. Then again, he had saved the world, so. There’s that.

He doesn’t want to think of the him that had fallen into the pit with Lucifer and Michael. He hopes he can save him by making different choices, but maybe he can’t. Alternate universes, or parallel ones, or whatever. Maybe that Sam is damned for good and the best he could do was save a different version of himself, a different version of his brother.

There’s not much point in wondering about it. He’ll never know either way.

It’s memories with no emotions, thank fuck, because just the knowledge of it all is enough to drive him to his knees, to edge him to weeping and whimpering and slitting his wrists if he lets it.

He’s not going to. He has work to do. There will be time to fall apart after, when the world is safe. When Dean is safe.

Dean after Dad had died and given him that ultimatum had been bad enough. Dean after forty years in hell had been nearly unrecognizable.

He wipes the blood from his face, ushers Dean back inside, and tries not to think too hard about what he’s about to do.

Dean figures out it’s Azazel in Dad’s body and they’re pinned to the wall and Sam waits until Azazel is hovering over him, hand next to his head as he tilts his head back and breathes over Sam’s lips. It’s a torture and a powerplay, to let the want in his eyes come out in his father’s face, to make it John’s body that’s pressed so nauseatingly close to his own.

Sam isn’t the same person he was four years ago, ten minutes ago.

Breaking out of Azazel’s hold is easy. He’s using the equivalent of a single finger to keep them down, like pinning down a butterfly, and it's only enough until it isn’t.

He grabs Azazel’s face and pulls him close, hears the beginning of his laughter before Sam seals their mouths together. He’s making a deal here, selling his soul sure as anything, just not with Azazel.

Azazel leans into it, just like Sam knew he would, shoving his tongue in Sam’s mouth and getting off at his instinctive flinch of disgust, of the way Dean’s screaming bloody murder behind him. Azazel hasn’t hurt Dean yet. Sam’s going to make sure he never will.

He bites down hard. Blood fills his mouth and he sucks on his tongue, drinking as much as he can. It doesn't tase like iron, not like it should, instead it's sweet and thick like honey. He thought Azazel would pull back now, but he’s still laughing into Sam’s mouth, even bites the inside of his cheek to add to the blood from his tongue, and he just lets Sam drink his fill. Of course, he doesn’t know what Sam knows. If Sam had done this the first time, the only thing the blood would have done would be to get him high and useless.

It means he gets more than a mouthful, that it’s long minutes of keeping his eyes closed and swallowing and trying not to think too hard about how it’s Dad’s hands on him and Dad’s hard on at his thigh and Dad’s tongue he’s sucking on. He’s already got four years’ worth of nightmares in his head. No need to add more than necessary.

His skin is buzzing, feeling stretched out over him like his body is too big for it suddenly, almost like the aches of growing pains but more electric. Azazel pulls back and licks up the side of his face, leaving blood and spit behind, and breathes into his ear, “If you missed me feeding you, boy, all you had to do was ask.”

Yeah, that’s enough of that.

He shoves Azazel back without moving his hands, hard enough that he stumbles, and he has to move fast, before he gets a smart idea like snapping Dad’s neck or bursting his heart. He raises his hand and he’d settle for an exorcism, but power is lying heavy and thick in his veins. Destroying Lilith nearly killed him and Azazel is more powerful than Lilith and the blood he drank shouldn’t be nearly enough.

But fear sparks in Azazel’s yellow eyes and he starts choking, black smoke leaking from his ears and out his mouth. “How-”

Sam doesn’t let him finish. He remembers killing Samhain, killing Alastair, killing Lilith. He knows what to do.

Azazel dies screaming. Mom and Jessica are avenged. It’s not as satisfying as he thought it’d be.

Dad is on his hands and knees, taking in deep lungfuls of air. Sam knows from experience that being possessed isn’t pleasant.

“Sammy?”

He forces himself to look over, sees his brother approaching him with hands outstretched. The fear hasn’t gone anywhere even with Azazel dead, even with Dad alive, even though he doesn’t have any of the devastating injuries he sustained last time.

He doesn’t have the emotions to go along with the memory of the first time Dean saw him drinking demon blood, but he imagines it was something like this. “I’m sorry.”

“Sammy,” Dean says again, but Dad’s getting to his feet, Dad’s looking at the Colt, and Sam can’t die yet. He still has work to do.

It’s not a conscious thought, not something he actively tries to do, it’s just one minute he’s there in a cabin with his father and brother and the next he’s in the middle of a field, the night air crisp and clear and a million stars shining above him.

He couldn’t do that before.

There’s something wrong, he thinks, because he doesn’t remember what drinking demon blood felt like, but he remembers describing it, and this isn’t right. He should be drained after that, should feel almost normal again, but instead it’s like there are bees pinging around inside him, like there’s molten lava in his veins, like he’s dying.

He’s dying, he realizes suddenly, the power threatening to eat him alive. He looks down at his arms, like he’s expecting to see them crisping up beneath moonlight, but they look normal, like skin. Of course it’s not killing him, no matter what it feels like. He’s Lucifer’s perfect vessel. There’s no power his body can’t contain, none except God’s, maybe, and it looks like he’s long past making house calls.

It won’t kill him, but it hurts like hell, and he can’t think, he needs to burn it off somehow. He’s never had this problem before, not even when he drank all that blood for Lucifer.

He’s standing in Bobby’s living room and he doesn’t understand why until he sees the body on his kitchen table wrapped in a white sheet. He doesn’t know how Bobby got rid of the paramedics, if he’s maybe holding the body for her family, but Sam thinks he knows how to get rid of some of the itching along his skin.

Sam died a lot, in those weeks he and Dean were apart. Lucifer was true to his word. Sam came back every time.

He pulls down the sheet, sees the ways Meg’s face has settled into death in the past day, how decay has started to take hold and left her blue and cold and her skin slack. He leans down, presses a kiss to her cheek, and thinks that this is the least he owes her, for what she endured because of him, for trying to help him even at the bitter end.

She gasps to life beneath him, warmth flooding her skin and air stuttering into her lungs. “Sam?” she asks, fear and confusion and a pain that’s not physical.

Maybe she won’t want to live, considering everything she’s been through, but at least now the choice is hers and not a demon’s. There are footsteps and he turns to see Bobby standing in the doorway, gun pointed to the ground and mouth open in shock. Sam doesn’t have time to worry about it, instead he’s gone, the same burning still clawing its way out of his bones.

Caleb lies slumped in the chair Meg had tied him to, throat slit and eyes empty. Sam puts his hands on his shoulders, presses his lips to his bald head, and feels the moment his heart starts beating again. He sends the ropes falling with barely a thought and he’s gone the moment he hears his first confused groan.

Pastor Jim is laid out in his home, church workers Sam vaguely recognize huddled around him in prayer, his final send off. He’s just glad he got here before they burned him. They start screaming when they see him but he leans down, internally wincing at how Jim’s going to explain his way out of this one, and kisses his forehead, a reversal of the paternal tenderness Jim had shown him as a child.

His chest rises and his eyes open and his eyebrows push together. “Sam, what-“

He doesn’t stick around to hear the end of that question, figures it’s not anything he can answer anyway.

It takes him a long moment of staring out at the snow covered peaks and too close sky and the brilliant sun hitting his face even though it was just the middle of the night for him to place himself, even though it shouldn’t be enough, but he knows where he is even though he shouldn’t.

The air’s too thin and he’s going to give himself altitude sickness if he lingers and he should probably be freezing to death but his blood is still running too hot. Not burning, not like it was before he brought three people back from the dead, but still far from comfortable.

Still. He can’t say he ever thought he’d ever get to see the view from Mt. Everest.

“Castiel,” he says. “It’s Sam Winchester. We need to talk.”

Nothing. Typical.

“I know about God’s plan, about Lucifer and Michael, about my role as his vessel. I know about you, Cas. You’re going to want to hear me out.”

There’s the rustle of wings behind him and he turns to see Cas, younger than he looked before. Jimmy Novak younger than he’d been before. He wonders about that for a moment. He’d half expected Cas to show up as a sherpa rather than nip to America for a vessel, but Cas had kept the shape of Jimmy Novak even after his physical body perished, so maybe there’s a deeper preference there than just convenience.

His face is as cold as their surroundings. “You have strayed from God’s light.”

“Yeah, well, what good has he ever done me?” he asks tiredly. He used to believe. He believed yesterday. He prayed this morning. Even when he met Cas the first time, he believed. “I can’t explain. Can you just read my mind? We don’t have time.”

His eyebrows push together, but Cas has to be curious, otherwise he wouldn’t have said anything. He steps forward and presses two fingers against Sam’s forehead. He doesn’t feel any different, but when Cas lowers his hand, he’s lost his stoicism. Shock, despair, and anger chase themselves across his feature and Sam can’t blame him.

He’s not the only who lost his faith in the future.

“You said there were thousands of seals,” he says. “How many exactly?”

His eyes snap to Sam’s. “What?”

“God loved Lucifer,” he says. “It’s why he imprisoned him rather than destroying him. It’s why he left him a way out. Maybe it’s why he set up the apocalypse in the first place. I don’t know, I don’t care. All I know is that I’m not letting him out, ever. So we’re going to destroy every seal we can.”

Some can’t be undone, like the first one, a righteous man torturing an innocent soul in hell. But there are plenty that can, hopefully enough, hopefully most. If there are less than sixty six seals available, then Lucifer is never getting out of his cage.

“There were originally ten thousand seals,” Cas answers and Sam gets lightheaded for reasons that have nothing to do with thin air. “Only two thousand and thirty four seals are still viable.”

Okay, that’s better. Not great, but better. “Let’s get that number down to sixty five.”

“You are different,” Cas says.

Of course he’s different. His father’s alive. His brother never went to hell. Sam has never known the utter desolation of being completely alone, of grief and guilt so heavy he’s surprised it didn’t break his spine as surely as Jake’s knife in his back. He doesn’t actually remember feeling it, which is no small mercy, but he saw the effects of living with it, which is almost as bed. He'd thought what he’s feeling because of Jessica is as low as he could get. It’s not even close.

He wants to dig up her bones and breathe life into them, but at almost a year dead he thinks that’s beyond even this strange new power. Even like this, he’s failing Jessica one more time.

“Got any ideas?” he asks. “It wasn’t like this before. With the blood.”

He’d drank Ruby nearly dry more than once. It had been a high and then a crash and never did it give him access to this type of power.

“Azazel is – was a prince of hell,” Cas answers.

Sam frowns. “I thought he was king?”

“He was regent,” he corrects, “but to be a prince is separate from being ruler of hell. Lucifer created Lilith from bone, as Adam and Eve were made. The princes were created from his blood. Azazel’s blood is, in a way, Lucifer’s.”

Lucifer’s blood. Sam, his vessel, drinking down Lucifer’s blood, as a baby and now. Except as a baby he’d only had a few drops. He’d consumed a lot more than that back at the cabin.

Demon blood always wore off. The few drops of Azazel’s blood he’d gotten as a baby never had. He probably should have taken that into consideration, but there hadn’t been any time.

“Lucifer is evil but he is not a demon,” Cas continues.

Sam realizes suddenly that he did have power like this once. When he locked away Lucifer inside of him and took his power for his own. It’s not the same, not even close, but it’s similar. “This is what angel blood does?”

“No,” he says. “This is what Archangel Lucifer’s blood does to his perfect vessel. I believe. This has never happened before, so I cannot be certain. You are, as always, one of kind, Sam Winchester.”

It’s not quite a compliment, but it’s not as combative as he remembers Castiel being in the beginning. He’ll take it. “Guess we’ll figure it out together, then. If you’re sticking around to help prevent the apocalypse.”

If he’s not, this is going to be more than difficult. Tracking down all the seals without an angel on his side isn’t going to be impossible, but pretty damn close. And he doesn’t know how much time he has. Hell is going to be pissed about him killing Azazel. Heaven is probably going to take notice once he starts destroying seals so they can never be opened. Not to mention, he’s definitely going to be on hunters’ radar. Even if Dad can keep his mouth shut about him drinking demon blood, which he knows better than to rely on, him bringing back people from the dead is going to spread quickly. He’s going to be hunted at all sides, just like last time.

At least last time he had Dean, even broken, even when he was broken himself. He still had his brother.

But this is the price for saving him. For making sure that Dean is never in the position to kick off the apocalypse in the first place, to make it so Lucifer never again walks the earth even if heaven and hell reincarnate him and Dean and try and start this all over again.

He’s going to be killed for it, he knows, by demons or angels or hunters. But that doesn’t matter much in the grand scheme of things.

“Yes,” Cas says. “It is better for us all if the future you saw never comes to pass. I will help you.”

He grins, clapping Cas on the shoulder, and only laughs at the glare he receives in return. They have to get out of here before the altitude makes him loopy. Maybe it already has.

He’s going to save the world for his brother and he’s not even going to get to keep him.

How fucked up is that?

[kawoala]

DRIVEN BY ADRENALINE suna rintarou. chapter 010 ; sorry.

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২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 (866)

২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 (last episode of the season guys [probably], profanity, apologies, minor mention of bad past, forgiveness but not lightly yk, terushima bails on runa but it’s kind of funny - sorry to my teruna truthers, also i’m not too sure i like the way i ended this - like not the confession of it but the actual words that ended this chapter 😭)

“I’m so sorry for what I’m about to do.”

Your head moves before your eyes do, looking up to where Runa now stands in front of the door. You furrow your brows, mouth parting slightly in confusion. She takes a deep breath and opens the door, then slips out and pushes someone inside.

Oh. That’s why she’s sorry.

Rin replaces Runa in front of the door now, hands awkwardly shoved in the pockets of his sweatpants. You’re astounded. You sit up in bed, blanket falling off your top half just a bit, and stare at him, eyes blank. 

“What are you—”

“Can we—”

You press your lips together, forming a thin line and nod towards him. “Go.”

He licks his lips, opening his mouth to speak, but then hesitates and closes his mouth. “There’s—” he cuts himself off, eyebrows pinching together in the middle. “I needed to talk to you.”

“So you used my roommate?” Your eyes narrow almost involuntarily and the words feel foreign in your mouth— you’re not used to being mean to Rin.

“She’s my cousin before she’s your roommate, Y/n.” Your stomach drops to your stomach because, yeah, he’s right. Your eyes dart away from him, zoning out into the fabric of your blanket. “I didn’t mean to… Can we just talk like grown adults?”

You scoff, but don’t look up. “Grown adults don’t ghost a girl they just kissed and then get into a random fist fight because she rode with a different guy.”

It’s silent for a long time. Your eyes are glued to the blanket, his eyes are presumably glued to the side of your face. You can practically hear the gears turning in his head. He clears his throat and, for some odd reason, you look at him.

“I’m sorry.”

“You already said that.”

“I don’t…” He scratches the back of his neck. “I don’t say that a lot. You and Runa are the only people I’ve apologized to in the last ten years, probably.”

You stay quiet, waiting— and hoping— for him to continue.

“It’s hard for me to, uh, express how I feel because—” once again, he cuts himself off, this time groaning in frustration. “This is so dumb. Not, uh, not this, not you. I’m— I don’t tell people what I’m feeling because my dad and shit. It’s stupid, whatever. It’s just hard for me, okay? I’m sorry for ghosting you for a week, I just— Runa told you that the shit I do is dangerous, and that’s not an excuse, but it is dangerous. I don’t want you to be in danger because I like you. I like you and I don’t want you to get hurt or some bullshit like that.”

You bite the inside of your cheek as he talks. You heard from Runa about Rin’s dad, but hearing it from him makes it a little bit more real.

There’s a feeling at the base of your throat— the feeling one gets when they’re about to cry— but you swallow it and take a deep breath.

“I’m a grown woman, yes?”

“Yeah, but—”

“I am a grown woman,” you repeat sternly. “I can take care of myself and I definitely do not need you to protect me.” You take a pause, noting that he’s now looking down at his feet, like a child getting lectured. “That being said,” he peeks up at you, eyes hopeful, and you sigh, climbing out of your bed. You kind of forgot that he’s so tall, so when you walk closer and have to crane your neck, you almost laugh, “I… guess I like you, too.”

He looks up fully now, staring into your eyes like you hold the secrets to the universe, like he could stare at you for hours and not get bored. It takes everything in you not to shiver.

“Okay,” he says with a nod. “Okay,” he repeats, taking a deep breath. “What, uh, what do we do now?”

“Wait.” You hold a hand up in the space between the two of you. “I just want to say that this is not me just forgiving you, okay? What you did was bad and it really hurt my feelings. I don’t mean to talk to you like a child, but you understand that it was wrong, right? Like, I know you wanted to keep me safe and whatever, but you should have just told me that. Do you get that?”

“Yes.” His answer is immediate, his nod firm. “Yes. It was fucked up and I promise to never do it again.” There’s a pause— from you and him. “Does this mean you’ll never ride with fucking Oikawa again?”

You raise your brows, giving him an incredulous look that makes him laugh. You open your mouth to respond to him, but a knock on the door cuts you off.

“Hello? Can I come in now? Terushima bailed on me and I’ve been standing out her for twenty fucking minutes.”

You walk over to the door and open it, hand on your hip, eyes narrowed. She gives you an apologetic smile and shrugs. “At least you guys made up?”

“Right,” you hum, rolling your eyes.

২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

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[247-diaperboy]

All the way, Daddy’s Boy

The room was small, but quaint, with pale blue walls that reminded Max of the color of the sky in august, misted by hazy clouds. He smiled at that. The color was a little boyish. But, he hadn’t been able to repaint. Tom and Greg had been clear on that. They said that Mr. Jeremy Butler, the landlord, was very strict. Two months extra rent for repainting! And, they argued, Max was the youngest and newest – still a sophomore - so he chose last.

He had moved in last week, joining Tom and Greg, Seniors who had been there for 3 years. He had lived in Chandice Hall last year, a dorm building from the 1940s that could barely be called a dorm. Honestly, if it wasn’t torn down within the decade, it was in danger of falling down. By spring Max had decided to move off campus, and he heard that Tom and Greg were looking for a new roommate. They lived in an enviable 4 bedroom on a cul-de-sac a couple miles from campus. It was a ranch, all brick, in the post-war style. The house was low and flat, with a large yard and big, towering pines. The guys held barbeques in the summer.

Max stood up from his twin beg, stretching out his torso into a long sinuous arch, curling his toes and fingers. Just as his fingers hit their apex, his right hand rolled down brushing the top of his short cropped hair, and he rubbed his neck. He hitched his left hand in his boxers, which were loose and low. What a fucking color. He thought for the 100th time. Pale, baby blue. Oh well.

He looked morosely down at his short twin bed. Not much better. But, a twin was the only think that would fit in here, and it was a modified twin. Coated with annoying, crinkling, plastic! His dresser hadn’t fit, either, so he was using the built in wall drawers which lined one side of the room. Oddly, above these there was a seem in the wall, and a large thick wooden slat flipped down as a desk. A super long desk, Max thought again. Whatever. Greg had told him this was the office and the owner was an architect. He shrugged mentally. Max stripped, pulling on a pair of tight spandex briefs. He cupped his goods. Nice package, he thought and smiled to himself, my body is amaaazing, and he giggled at the self-flattery. He slipped on his jeans, and pulled on a faded green t-shirt. He stopped by the hall bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face on the way to the kitchen. He arrived to find Greg standing on the table. He looked up in consternation.

“What the hell is going on in here” he grumbled, with the tones of sleep still rounding the edges of his words.

Greg looked back, turning his muscled torso 90 degrees left, and flicked his head, and caught Max with his eyes. He was wearing only cut off painters shorts he had created from last year kakhis. He tilted his head, his floppy brown hair tilting to the side.

“Yeah. Light needs changing” he stated matter-of-factly. Greg was a no-nonsense guy. “Hand me that wire, would you Max”

“Sure” Max responded, picking up the wire and passing it up. “Where’s Tom?”

“Oh. He went to class about an hour ago. That history class he, um the …” Greg paused as he stuck out his tongue in concentration, wiring a connection while balancing the light. “ahhh. Got it. Um, the one he needs for his major. the one he’s always complaining about…. Italian history, I think”

“Oh yeah, yeah” Max paused, pouring himself a bowl of cereal. “Hey, Greg, you know that mattress of mine is really annoying. I mean it could wake the dead, man. And, it feels like I’m sleeping on a stiff plastic tarp – you know the camping ones? Its slick, crinkly. Super fucking annoying. I gotta change it.”

Greg stepped down from the table, having completed his task. On the ground, the height difference between Greg and Max was more obvious. Greg was 6 foot 2 inches, 190 lbs with broad shoulders. Max wasn’t tiny. He wasn’t! Max frowned at his own thought, and looked down at himself as if to re-enforce this. His Dad always said he was the tallest in their family! But at 5 foot 6 inches, and 150 lbs, he was slim and small compared to Greg. It made their 2 year age difference – 22 to 19 – seem much greater than it was. Although, he had heard rumors that Greg was older, he couldn’t confirm it.

“Max, buddy. You know we can’t get rid of Jeremy’s stuff, and we cant store it.” He glared “That was a condition of moving in. And, that’s part of the reason you’re paying so little”

Max sighed, and rolled his eyes dramatically. Whatever. He was never going to be able to find such affordable housing near campus. He grabbed his green book bag, slung it over his shoulder, and headed out, calling bye to Greg as he scampered out the door. Greg smiled faintly at the back of the closed door, and headed down to the 4th bedroom in the basement to get some supplies. The beginning of the process was always so much fun, Greg thought.

Max returned home to see his Dad in Septermber for a long weekend. The bus sucked. It was long, boring, and the guy next to him smelled like a garbage bag! Yuuuuuck. And, the bus had no bathroom, so the last 2 hours of the trip Max was certain he was going to piss himself. He sprinted off that bus and straight to the restroom. He had never been so happy to see a urinal in his life!

Weekend with Dad was great, but oddly, he didn’t sleep so well. He had started sleeping naked most nights in the last month depending on the temperature. It seemed that his room was really hot; much warmer then the rest of the house. And, somehow the fucking slick, crinkly, plastic sheet on his mattress stayed a little cooler, and so if he had his skin on it, it felt a little better. Max imagined he was quite a site: sleeping buck naked with no sheets on the plastic lined mattress. Oh well. It felt good. Anyways, at Dads the mattess just felt hot and soft. Weirdly, he had trouble sleeping on it.

On Sunday night, his Dad had noticed his fatigue, and asked. He reported dutifully about his new mattress in his rental room, and how it was odd to sleep on this one.

“You mean, plastic? Like, slick thick cold plastic encasing the mattress?” His dad asked, enthusiastically, his voice brimming with containing mocking humor.

Max answered slowly, fearing a trap “Uh, yeah. Just like that. It covered the whole thing. You cant even get it off”

His Dad threw back his head and laughed uproariously, a loud booming laugh. When the laughed turned to a chuckle he started: “That’s a mattress protector.” When Max looked over blankly he continued “Like, for a kid who wets his bed. Like pisses in it. You know, like pees in the bed…. so the piss doesn’t soak in just runs…”

Max cut him off “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Thanks. I get it” he simmered. I guess for some reason Jeremy had a bed wetter mattress installed in his rental house. Fuck. And, Max couldnt get rid of it. Max groaned inwardly as his dad continued giggling. It didn’t occur to either of them to wonder if Greg or Tom know the purpose of the mattress.

The next week proceeded uneventfully. Max resigned himself to sleeping on the mattress, and strangely he enjoyed getting back to it. “I liked it before I knew its purpose, why should I change now?” Max thought.

It wasn’t until the start of October that things began getting weird. After it all went down, when Max became thoughtful, indeed, when he thought at all, he would think back to that week in particular. A cascade of events can start from such a random, little thing. Or, was it random?

In late September, Toms Grandma Jean came to visit them for a week. It was torture. Jean was 82, imperious, demanding, and set in her ways. Tom was running around the entire week. Max tried his best not to be at home at all. He would arrive late at night, drinking, studying, whatever. He would enter the house quietly and approach the fridge, quickly stealing food and drink, and taking it back to his room.

It so happened that on Monday he took a water bottle with an “JS” on top – or so he was later told. Grandma Jean apparently had trouble swallowing pills, and would melt her medications in water, and then drink the bottle.

It doesn’t matter what was in the bottle; Tom was never able to tell him that, and Jean didn’t really know. Some combination of her meds she said. Max went to sleep that night, and when he woke up next, he was naked, cold. Tom and Greg were both standing over him. He felt the air on his skin. As usual he was on his bed, naked, lying on the plastic coated mattress. He squirmed, and looked up at them. “Stop it!” Tom ordered, looking down, his blond hair spiked.

“Not again” Greg groaned simultaneously, sticking his hand under Max’s cold butt and tilting him to the side. Max barely reacted, but groaned. His hand feels so warm. Max could tell that Greg’s hand emerged glistening, wet, and a dribble ran down his forearm. He cursed loudly “Fucking piss soaked” and ran out of the room, while muffled the rest of his sentence.

Max struggled for coherence. His brain wrestled to make sense of the situation.

He hesitated and then lifted his head and looked down at his thin, tanned body. His lower abs and crotch and upper thighs were wet and shining, and there was a small puddle under his butt. He could smell it clearly. It was the shared smell of a urinal, a boy’s locker room, and a baby’s used diaper; it was stale urine. He groaned. The urine puddled under his butt, held out of the mattress by the plastic protector sheet. He lifted his hand to his chest, and unknowingly, he brought piss with it, and felt the piss run down his chest. Max was groggy. He wanted to cry. He looked up at Tom, who smoothed back his hair in a protective gesture.

“Let’s get you cleaned up” Tom declared. He began to roll Max to the side and toweled off under his butt. Max fell in and out of sleep, eventually waking up again in the morning. He could barely tell if that nights activities were a dream or not. But, from the smell of his room - still vaguely urine-tinged - he knew it was no dream. Remembering Tom and Greg seeing him piss-soaked and naked, he blushed red as he stood up and pulled on his boxers.

For several days thereafter, Max was groggy and tired. He was almost too sick to think. Greg threatened to take him to a doctor, but he just shrugged it off. The meds will pass he thought. Jean had long since left.

To his dismay, he continued to wake up in a wet bed. And, he was not pissing a little, but a lot. He would wake up with he naked butt in puddles of hot urine on the mattress. The air fresheners that Tom had strung up in his room did little to cover the scent. Greg and Tom were real sports about it. On the 5th day, when Max ran out of boxers, Tom lend him a small pair of his. On Friday, he woke up in the early morning hours, feeling again the piss around his crotch. He was laying face down on his mattress, and the piss extended up to his chest. He started sobbing. How had this happened to him? He had never pissed the bed! He sat up, and some of the urine sloshed onto the floor, which made him cry even harder.

That was how Greg found him, crying, naked, half covered in piss. Greg said nothing, but, walked slowly towards him and enfolded him in a powerful hug apparently disregarding the fact that urine was now covered Greg too.

“Shhhhh. Don’t cry Max. Shhhhh” he cooed as Max sobbed against his chest, heaving and shaking. “We’ll fix this buddy. Don’t worry” he continued in a low, calm voice, as if soothing a puppy. At some point he began to stroke the back of Max’s head, and Max’s sobs trailed off as he nestled his head against Toms warm neck. That morning, he followed Toms instructions as he was told to shower and get dressed. Maybe Tom could fix this mess, Max thought optimistically. Tom and Greg seemed like such good guys.

Weeks later, Max would have trouble recalling who first suggested the diapers. In truth, it may have been no one, or anyone. One day, he woke up in his puddle of urine, cold, shivering. And, the next day, in the afternoon, he found, at the foot of his closet, an unopened pack of adult diapers. He torn open the pack, and unfolded one. It was large (larger then he would have expected!) and thick, but soft. He needn’t have opened the pack. His underwear drawer was generously stocked with the folded diapers. The filled most of his underwear drawer, and his boxers had been stuffed in the side and in the next drawer down.

He mentioned these in passing to Tom and Greg; it was not a conversation really, but more of an acknowledgment; as if to say, I found these. The both nodded, studiously avoiding the issue. Only that night while they were all seated in the living room watching TV, did Greg say, “Remember to get one of those diapers on before bed, Max” Max looked over, but Greg had gone back to watching the show, as if the issue deserved no more comment. And, maybe it didn’t. Max had a problem, and the diapers were a simple solution. He tried to be a man about it.

That night, he put one on for the first time. He had unfolded one on the bed, fully open it took up a fair portion of the twin bed. He stripped to nothing and laid down butt first on the diaper. It took some doing, but he folded it up in place over his dick and crotch, securing the tapes. He closed his legs slowly, feeling the dense mass of stuffing that covered his butt, balls, and cock keeping his legs apart. It gave some when he brought his legs together, bunching and pushing out in the front. But, the mass was still present. He could almost feel how dry, and thirsty it was.

He stood up gingerly, feeling the diaper move with him. He moved carefully to his closet, as if the thick bundle around his crotch could break, but really, he moved slowly to lessen the creeping humiliation he felt. It is this way when a toddler first walks? He thought, the thick diaper making the act awkward and halting. Max was surprised but pleased to find a pair of baggy PJ bottoms to pull over the diaper, even if they were covered by baseballs in a too-boyish style. He hadn’t worn these in years.

When he emerged back out to sit on the couch and watch TV, the only mention of his new attire was a jest: “Max, you take the seat with the warn out cushion – you got extra padding!” Tom cracked, to Greg’s delight. The next morning, no one was surprised to find that Max had wet himself at night. Tom and Greg were up remarkably early, and Max’s door was open when he awoke. His stirring brought Tom and Greg both to the room, to stand over his bed. That would have been more unusual a couple months ago, but given his recent bed wetting, they seemed to be in his room nearly every morning. They stood shoulder to shoulder at the foot of his bed, both shirtless, as they often were; Greg had his fingers lightly on Toms waist.

Max’s PJ bottoms has slipped low in the night, and his diaper was mostly bare. Before Max could ask why Greg was touching Tom, Greg reached down and used one of his index fingers to tug them down the rest of the way, revealing the diaper totally. It was a mottled grey-yellow, indented and deformed. It looked nothing like the night before. Although none of the boys were used to seeing wet diapers, they knew that was what this way: a diaper used to capacity. Tom’s lips turned up in the corner, an almost smile.

“Looks like that diaper did its job chief” he declared. With that, Tom turned and walked out. Greg lingered, watching his diaper crotch just a little too long. Max looked at Greg awkwardly.

“Greg, do you need something?” Max asked quietly. Greg started.

“No, no” he said as he walked out of the small blue room.

At first, the used diapers went in the bathroom garbage. But, Greg soon complained about the smell. Even when Max folded them up well, they did smell. Soon, there was a garbage, really a diaper-pail, in the corner of his blue bedroom. At first, it was odd for Max to see his used diapers day after day. They were balled up tight, but yellow, used. They smelled faintly of piss, and his room did too. Nothing severe.

Max couldn’t tell if it was better or worse when he found a nursery-sent nightlight in his room after returning from class. Tom had good fun with him about it, but defended it by saying that Amazon had only small repository of get-rid-of-diaper-smell items, and they all were babyish. Indeed, Tom said he had tried to google “get rid of diaper smell” and “adult” in the same sentence, and got nothing. Oh well.

By that Christmas break that year, Max was wearing diapers every night regularly, and without thought. A couple times he stopped to wonder if the meds that he had involuntarily taken from Jean would wear off, or why they hadn’t. But, he didn’t dwell on this too much. Whenever he got the thought in his mind, it would slip away, fleeting.

The last order of diapers had been 2 cases – 100 in total. He had blanched slightly when they arrived, but they were cheaper this way, and Greg had helped him split the cost. Those diapers, when unpacked, had filled a couple drawers and lined several shelves extra.

Max decided to stay in town for Christmas while Greg and Tom when home. He hadn’t wanted to confront his Dad with his night-time-diapers. It seemed simpler this way. Those were the first days he started wearing diapers during the day. It started simply. One lazy morning he decided to eat before changing out of his diaper. Being familiar with the capcity of these diapers, he could tell now that this wet diaper could handle more. And, he had recently wet. It was warm, almost cozy. He squirted a little more piss into his diaper during breakfast. He thought about his diapers more recently. While at the kitchen table eating his oatmeal, he rubbing himself through the front of his diaper, feeling the soggy warm heavy diaper rub against his hard dick. Damn, he thought. That felt goooood. Pretty quickly, while eating, he cam into the front of his diaper. He rocked his crotch forward, clamping down on the spoon in his mouth. He felt the hot cum squirt out in his wet diaper. When he was done he panted slightly, and began to get up. He stopped, and laughed. There was no reason to get up. No cleanup. Oh shit; that was certainly a benefit to wearing diapers. He thought, remembering normal clean-up when he used to jack off. He careless rubbed his post-climax dick again through the diaper, shuddering.

That morning, at almost noon, he changed out of his wet diaper and into a dry one. He defended it to himself. He was going to be home all day. It was like wearing at night. And, there were so many diapers in his room, who would notice a missing one.

By the time Tom and Greg both returned from winter break, Max had been wearing diapers non-stop for almost 2 weeks. He would push them down to shit still, but wouldn’t really even clean himself up as much as he used to. It was a diaper, right? He’d think as he pulled the wet diaper from around his ankles after he shit. The guys got home at night, and it was not unexpected that Max was wearing, although he greeted them in just his diaper and short socks, which made them both grin broadly.

But, Max had not counted on how many diapers he had gone through. The next morning, Greg noted that almost 60 diapers had been used since before they left.

“Max, that’s like 4 per day, buddy” Greg said sternly for the 4th or 5th time. Max looked down. He had used every excuse he could think of, and the only thing left to him was the truth.

“Well, I’ve been wearing the diapers during the day. All day.” Max intoned, very slowly, pronouncing every word as if they were fragile strange things. Greg looked at him, sitting on the side of the bed – the sheet crinkling with his movements – his diaper wet, bulging at his crotch. It did not occur to Max to be embarrassed at his used diaper.

And, surprisingly, Greg smiled. He ruffled his hand through Max’s hair. “Look. Diapers are cheap. We can get more. Use as many as you want. If you want to wear all the time, Tom and I will totally support that” Greg said. As if on cue, Tom peaked his head it, and yelped “We sure will!” and then continued down the hall.

Max realized two things that day. He did feel more comfortable wearing diapers during he day. But, his clothes did not fit well over them. He had spent the holiday break at home, and now he was confronted with the prospect of going to class in diapers. He went through jeans, khakis, shorts. In all of them, the diaper was woefully obvious at least to his nervous eyes. He examined himself in the mirror again, his j-crew Khakis over his diaper… the diaper contour stretching the confines of his crotch and butt, and worse still, it rustled loudly, and peaked up above the too-low waist band.

Max eventually settled on sweat pants, through which the diaper was somewhat concealed in the folds of extra cloth. To his surprise, when he arrived in the kitchen that morning, Tom had packed him a lunch for class in a paper bag. He stuffed it into his bookbag and grinned as Tom slapped him on his diapered ass. He barely registered that Gregs hand came up and cradled Toms neck as he was walking out the door.

Those weeks, in the early winter were both easy and careless. Max was often seen around campus in his navy blue sweat pants, paired with all manner of t-shirts or Henley’s and an accompanying jacket. Some students who sat beside him swore he smelled odd, musky, stale. Others noticed nothing. Similarly, some talked about his growing crotch or enlarging butt. There were rumors, but they only skirted the truth. The rumors rarely reached Max’s ears. When Greg or Tom heard about them, they fed the rumors slightly, obliquely. The word diaper was only mentioned in passing, hushed whispers.

For himself, Max slept soundly at night and romped during the day. He was surprisingly happy. His thoughts had become strangely simplified. Sometimes he almost thought that his thought-process had become more child-like. He had altered his routine somewhat to accommodate the diapers, but that was greatly outweighed by the added security and comfort he got from them. This joy was not lost on Greg and Tom.

It was early in March when Max noticed that his closet was strangely empty. It was true that he was wearing only a small selection of clothes, but still, he was momentarily taken aback by the empty shelves and naked hangers. He was back early. He has stripped out of his sweats to get them a much needed wash, and was in a white printed t and his diaper, which was slightly used, and hung a little low on his waist. Greg returned from class first to find Max in the living room watching TV and having a beer.

“Hey Greg” Max voiced “What’s with my closet?”

Greg barely noticed Max as he was unpacking his book bag. “Tom and I took the clothes to good will this morning. You cant wear most of them anymore. The better pieces Tom took to consignment to get some extra money to buy you new shit.” He reported matter-of-factly as if stating a fact that did not concern Max.

“Oh” Max paused, taking in this news. “Well, I guess I could use some new clothes” he looked up at the TV as if nothing had happened, and took another sip of his beer. If Tom was going to get him a new wardrobe, great. Nice to have some more pants, he thought philosophically while looking down at his bare legs and exposed diaper. Prior to dinner, when Tom and Greg were in the kitchen, Max was sitting at the table chatting with them. He stood up slowly, and began to walk to the bathroom. Something in the way he walked, slightly bow legged, set Tom off. He walked so much like a toddler.

“He buddy” Tom called conspiratorially “Where you going?”

Max looked back. Strange. The hadn’t been this interested in his comings and goings before. He rubbed his flat stomach absent mindedly, and ran a hand along the waist band of his diaper. His stomach groaned, and he felt the familiar pressure building. “I’m heading to the bathroom Tom” he reported, turning to walk. “Stop!” Tom ordered, brokering no argument. “Greg and I have been talking. We think we’re spending almost $300 per month on your diapers. And, we think you should use them fully. Its just not fair” he reasoned “its like you’re throwing away half our money”

Max stopped, puzzled. Weird argument. He dismissed them and turned to head to the bathroom. He didn’t expect Greg to tackle him, pushing him onto the plush carpet, wrestling him to the ground playfully. They tousled for a couple minutes, laughing at the unexpected physicality of it.

Max was abruptly brought to the present when he felt the pressure in his stomach surge. He had a critical need to shit. He yelped this to Greg in a semi-strangled voice. Greg remained straddles across him, holding his arms to the floor. “Let me up Greg, I really, really gotta go” Max whined again, high pitched, which squirming. Greg paused, looking down. He mercilessly pressed a fist slowly into Maxes flat stomach. Max groaned audibly. Greg jumped off him as Max flipped over to his stomach and got himself up on his knees. His lips drew back from his teeth in nether a smile nor a grimace. Very slowly, he levered his butt out and up, his head down but his face out. Greg was kneeling beside him, and slipped a hand under the back of his t-shirt, rubbing his back from neck down to diaper butt.

He locked eyes with Max and spoke carefully. “Don’t hold back Max. It’s OK. Do it.” In that moment, Max didn’t push – no – he simply let go the effort of holding back. And, with that, his bowels rumbled out into his waiting diaper. They filled his diapered seat. This was so much more then wetting. He thought as he felt the hot slimy mess fill his diaper and felt it continue coming out of him. Some part of him was conscious that he wet at the same time. As he continued soiling himself, he broke eye contact with Greg and closed his eyes. His diaper butt felt heavy, and sagged low between his legs.

He eventually laid down on the floor, somehow exhausted. He was all too conscious of the full diaper he wore. Full in every sense. He felt it – warm, wet, and heavy. He smelled it. When he moved it shifted. His cheeks blushed bright red as he thought about what he had done, what he was wearing. He looked up at Tom and Greg who now stood over him… his voice was almost tearful, “I shit in my diaper” he whispered, voice quavering.

That was when he discovered another use for the large levered desk in his room. Greg took him there, walking him gingerly. Tom and Greg had made clear he could not change himself out of this diaper. The “desk” flopped down out of the wall, and Max was stunned to see Tom quickly unfold a cushioned printing plastic mat. Even in his shocked state, standing in his full diaper, he looked at the board, covered in the white plastic mat printed with baseballs, mitts, and bats,

His eyes widened as he looked at Greg, “This is, uh, this is a baby changing table” He said. The sheltered cubbies in the wall were filled with diaper changing supplies; baby oil, and baby powder. Pampers wipes.

Greg paternalistically rubbed Max on the head. “No, buddy, its not a baby changing table. Its a changing table for adults who wear diapers” He reported. With that, he put his strong hands at Max’s waist and hoisted him onto the table, plopping him down on his butt. Max started. The force of him landing pushed his shit all over his backside, making him newly aware of his diaper. Strangely, his cock became hard.

Tom appeared, and pulled off his shirt, and pushed him flat onto his back. In the hours after, Max tried to forget the humiliation of that 15 minutes. He laid on that table with his butt in the air, and the smell of his shit, while Greg cleaned his butt and Tom rubbed his chest and soothed him. He cried softly through much of the change, but his dick remained hard. Greg teased him as he put him back into a dry diaper, this time liberally applying baby oil. When he stood up, he noticed that the baby oil and powder lent him a much more infantile smell.

It was no less then 2 months later that the first diaper-messing seemed a distant, foreign memory to Max. He tried to remember how and why it had felt so strange; this was the most natural of impulses. Letting go. He did it easily now. It just came out into his diaper. Wetting or messing. It was a diaper. It was to be used. He has wet and messed himself at breakfast yesterday, and told Tom this thought. Tom had praised him.

“Yeah, of course, Max. For you, using you diaper is and should be the most natural thing in the world. Its the same way for all little boys” Max lifted up his chin and grinned at Toms praise. It meant a lot to him, to have Tom or Greg praise him. He would glow for hours afterwards.

True to his word, Tom had stocked his closet with clothes that were much better suited to his attire. His jeans now were double stiched with a wide crotch and elastic waist. He had a couple pairs of overalls. Greg had even bought him a onsie recently, saying it was like an undershirt, but better for hiding his diaper. He cringed a little at that recent memory. It seemed more than a little infantile when Greg had snapped that onsie over his diaper. But, he did enjoy the way it had pushed up the diaper against his cock. He became hard just thinking about it. And, the diaper didn’t peak over his pants when he wore them. Practical, Max thought.

Around the house, Max had noticed small changes. Nothing he could put his finger on. He complained to Tom once, and even to his own ears, it sounding like the whining of a spoiled child. The chairs in the kitchen were being changed out, and while Tom and Greg used the two remaining wooden ones, Max was stuck with a smaller plastic one that had a seat belt in it. Of course, the guys never used the belt on him. But, the chair was small, blue and red, with high arms. And, it took him a couple days, but he noticed that he was always drinking out of plastic cups now with lids and straws.

When he mentioned it, Tom laughed “Its nothing. We’re just short on glass cups.” He almost complained when Greg wiped his mouth after dinner, but held himself back. Greg was so gentle with it, so caring, cupping the back of his head and gently wiping the wet wipe over his mouth. And, it felt nice to be touched like that by Greg.

Also, he couldn’t tell if it was just him, but Max noticed that Tom and Greg were increasingly touching or holding each other. Simple hugging, or having arms around each other. The other night, on the couch, Max was in his new onsie and diaper, and sitting on the floor with his back to the couch, and he looked up to see Tom lying with Gregs legs straddling him. When Max looked at them, they smiled and Tom winked. He shrugged, and went back to watching TV.

Max’s last day of class was in the first week of June. He was in his overalls, which he liked wearing now. They were blue-jean color, and cut slightly large. He wore a red onsie underneath them. Tom came with him to class sometimes now, and was with him today. He sat beside Tom in the back row. He set his backpack down by his feet. His sneakers were big, white hightops. He was quite wet, and knew it now that he felt his diaper, although he barely remembered wetting. He whispered this to Tom, who shrugged. He knew that the bathroom in the Carmichael building was a pissing trough with no privacy, and a couple small stalls. There was no place to change a diaper. Max silently cursed when he felt the need to mess half way through lecture. He tugged on Toms sleeve.

It was no use. While the professor talked about early agrarian economies, Max succumbed and soiled his diaper badly, feeling the hot mess and squirting piss assail his diaper simultaneously. Soon, the dirty diaper smell became obvious.

“Did you mess?” Tom queried, grimacing “Phewy, that stinks. Lift up, stinky butt, let me see. It smells like you leaked.” Max lifted his butt slightly for Tom, who saw the damp crescents across the back his butt. “Damn it! I knew we should have switched to those other diapers. Greg was right” Max dropped his head onto the desk, as nearby students started turning. In the preceding months, the rumors of a diaper-wearing student had solidified, and were now commonly known.

“Max, did you fucking mess you diaper again, baby?” a loud mouthed frat guy hooted from 2 rows in front. “I can smell that shit from here. Daddy’s gonna have to get you changed” he laughed, as a chorus of other students joined in giggling nervously and looking at Max. Kyle a sophomore seated beside Tom, was less forgiving.

“Damn it. It smells like a diaper-baby-fucking-nursery here. If you’re still wetting and shitting your diapers like a baby maybe you should be in nursery school and not a college seminar, and let us adults concentrate?” Kyle lectured.

To the sound of laughs, Max walked out of the lecture hall, his wet and messy diaper obvious as Tom walked beside him.

After that episode in lecture, the changes came quickly for Max throughout that spring and summer.

He was already diapered all the time, and, after his original diapers leaked occasionally, Greg had switched him to thicker diapers. He had seen the ordering site; these were diapers only worn by completely incontinent men. They were loud, thick, and impossible to hide. In order to compensate, his wardrobe had changed radically. The onsies had multiplied. They were perfect for fitting over the thick diapers. They held them up, and in place. And, Greg liked to say, they prevented Max from tampering with his own diapers. As if Max was going to. He was perfectly content with Greg and Tom handling that.

The story of his soiling his diaper in class had become common knowledge. Their school was not large, and now it seemed that every student knew that Max wore diapers. This was a blessing and a curse. After initial mocking and taunting, students seems to let him be. It was for the best, since his diapers were not easily concealable under his clothes. He was mostly in overalls now when he went out. On some of the overalls, there were leg snaps so that Tom or Greg could get to his diaper easier. With the leg snaps and the onsie, he was surprised to realized they could change his diapers without undressing him.

In addition to his onsies, he had sleepers for overnight – long tight playful printed things which exaggerated the contour of his diaper butt and his thin toned limbs. For the day, he had slowly built up a collection of toddlerish clothes: rompers for in the house – loose garments in which he could play. Greg had also bought him some shortalls, which were mostly for inside, but he had endured an embarrassing trip to the park in them once, where, blessedly, he had not been seen. But, often, he was in just a diaper or a t-shirt and diaper.

The other changes were incremental. The desk-changing table came down permanently, with a baby-boy printed covering, and became a changing table in truth.

He first had a towel around his neck, then, when the towel grew dirty with his food, he was given a bib. His plastic chair with a belt became a larger chair with a tray, and then a lockable high chair. His plastic-covered cup became a sippy cup.

It was this way that Max found himself near the end of the summer. He had been home from classes for 2 months, and his life had become, in reality, that of a kid. Maybe even that of a toddler he thought. He still had say over his actions. But, he was, in some ways confined by his diaper and clothing. And, in truth, he needed the diapers now, and had come to enjoy them.

It was a morning in late summer when Max stumbled from his bed – still plastic sheet covered, but now with short railings. He was clad in a tight white onsie which had small barely visible soccer ball prints. This onsie covered his engorged diaper. He waddled more then walked into the hallway. Sounds down the hall caught his attention and he wandered to them, opening the door to Greg’s room. He paused at the door. Greg and Tom were both naked, kneeling, Greg straddling Tom from the back. Toms dick was hard. Greg was behind him. They both looked up at Max. Their skin was glistened with sweat.

“Hi boy” Greg voiced, throaty, husky. “You come to play with your daddies?” he asked. Max looked over, and felt his cock hard in his diaper. Greg looked at Max “You know that inflatable stuffed horse we got you? Go get it, come back” Max scampered through the house, returning moments later. “Mount it at the foot of the bed” Greg ordered, while Tom moaned.

Max sat down at the foot of the bed and straddled his horse. His wet diaper, bound by his onsie, pushed up mightily against his cock.

“Now ride it until you cum” Greg ordered, and he continued taking Tom from behind. Max moved his hips back and forth, while looking at Tom and Greg, and feeling his cock trapped, hard, in the wet diaper. He was about to cum when Tom reached forward and slipped something into his mouth. It was long and plastic, and Max felt the guard around his mouth. It was a large pacifier. He sucked and sucked and watched the men above him gyrating as his dick exploded into his waiting diaper. He continued humping and moaning as he fell forward.

[obsidianpen]

unpopular opinion: admit it or not but no glory would've been more popular on ao3 than blood & gold if it wasn't locked, considering it's popularity on tiktok. even big accounts on tiktok about fanfic recommendations and stuffs, recommends no glory and their videos is always a hit. don't get me wrong i'm a blood & gold fan, like seriously. but i think no glory is more closer of getting popular along side of manacled, like seriously check tiktok and search no glory and all videos are hits. everytime i search blood & gold on tiktok hoping if some people read it, i barely see any videos compared to no glory. is this a sign to read no glory?😭

well this is certainly part of the problem - something being popular on TikTok is NOT a surefire sign that it’s a good story. There are a LOT of amazing fics that aren’t on TikTok. Like most of them probably. And honestly, I’ve seen some pretty atrocious ones get posted about and reccd there, particularly in tomione. Cough cough.

let’s talk about the tiktokification (and adjacent, instagramification) of fanfics! Like all things, I think there are good and bad parts of this. I think it can be fun when readers like a story so much they make a TikTok about it to hype up the author. That’s how the exchange of fandom is supposed to work: the writer makes and shares a story with the world for free; the reader says thank you by providing feedback in the form of a comment or in this case, reccing it on social media, maybe even going as far as to make a fun video or edit. Fine. Fun. Go at it.

(side note to give special thanks to all fan artists; I think I speak for most writers when I say this is the BEST???? Fanfic inspiring fanart is the best exchange ever, true fandom love)

where I find a problem with TikTok and all that is when writers themselves are hyping up their own work on social media like it’s a job, making catchy funny videos with the intent to reach many people as possible and blow up - on a site that where posts can be monetized. It feels very cringey to me. Like, ulterior motive-y. Sorry if I’m offending anyone with this take, feel free to disagree and do your thing!

but on to No Glory’s presence on TikTok - truly, this was a surprise to me when I first saw it. I don’t agree that it would be ‘manacled popularity status’ because… it’s harrymort. It’s a far cry from Draco and Hermione, that’s for sure (not that I can’t and won’t make a solid argument for how canon compliant - though admittedly very fucked up - harrymort is!). I think it’s fair to say that No Glory is a bit of a ‘despite the’ situation, meaning, it is somehow popular despite having graphic torture, death, trauma, rape, etc. And none of those things are done lightly, nor are they ever excused (the murderer/rapist is not pardoned for any of his bullshit nor is he coerced into doing any of it; he is a Villain, capital V). So yeah, it’s surprising to me that it is as popular as it is, given all that AND that’s it’s a WIP, seeing as there is also (I think) a big trend for people only reading completed fics (these folks are almost missing the point of fandom and how it works and they suck, but that’s a different rant).

I’m losing the plot. Er, I don’t think NG being locked for a while would have made TOO much a difference, but maybe it would have - I’m sure people were sharing it with those who didn’t have accounts and so it probably would have more ‘hits’ or whatever if it hadn’t been. But all in all I don’t think it would be ‘manacled popular’. Because Harry is a (poor young) man, Voldemort is Voldemort, the age gap is both much too large and much too small (if it were an inhuman number of years, book tok logic says it becomes okay again), and everything is so fucked and unforgiving almost all the time. And not in the cute ‘I can fix him and everything!’ way. In the ‘there is nothing that can make him redeemable ever so I’m going to disassociate until I implode over and over again’ kind of way.

[onscarlitos]

Too many thoughts re: CAS hearing

Been thinking about writing this for a while but was afraid of putting this out on the internet but here it goes: 

Now that we know when the CAS hearing will be (April 16-17, and they’ll likely announce a sentence a month or so later or even earlier), I’ve been thinking about what a sentence for bearing fault and/or negligence might mean for tennis as a whole. 

I’ve been reading articles about Jannik’s case as well as many other cases and the process; Jannik had a clause in his contract with his old team (as I assume many players do) that dealt with doping and its consequences (now I’m not sure what the official wording was but probably something about provisions and consequences).  He also asked Naldi about the cut on his hand. With these things in place, as well as the usual amount of discipline tennis players have around doping, I’m wondering how do you measure negligence? 

The thing about this process that’s personally been frustrating (frankly in all of the cases from Jannik, Iga, Simona, Max, Tara, etc) is how subjective the entire process is. There’s actually no standardization or threshold aside from the process they have written down that can be applied differently according to the different resources folks have (i.e. Jannik and Iga having the resources to hire great lawyers as opposed to Tara). 

I think that people can choose to believe what they want to of what actually happened with Jannik and his team (though I think people need to actually read the facts and the ruling), and whatever people believe will be influenced by their biases. I personally believe the story. Where I think many people are being shortsighted is how much more careful should tennis players have to be? What was Jannik actually supposed to do to be more careful? (i.e. the clause in his contract, asking Naldi about the cut, etc) 

Precedence can either be great for the sport or make it harder for everyone. I fear that the hearing in April and subsequent sentence will actually make it harder for all tennis players. 

[oleandequill]

You know, it drives me crazy to know that technically there’s two (at least in terms of prominence cause I think there’s also a TFA one though it doesn’t seem as talked about) canonical Shattered Glass continuities: the one made by FunPub and the IDW reboot.

Cause the thing is, those two comics have vastly different Megatrons and Optimus Primes.

Like we have FunPub Megatron who is a mathematician and Optronix who was a librarian that backstabbed his way to the top.

Then we have the IDW versions where Megatron is a miner/civil activist who keeps getting tossed into jail and Orion Pax who is a senator in this version.

And what fascinates me is that in the FunPub version, Optimus actually lives (though he becomes Nova Prime). Meanwhile, in the IDW version, I think he dies (?) or well his fate is much worse in comparison to FunPub!OP.

Also what’s up with both Megatrons having a fakeout death? FunPub!Megatron does get killed by Cyclonus but he comes back as Galvatron. Meanwhile IDW!Megatron gets defeated by OP and is momentarily thought to be dead (he just went into self-exile).

There’s not actually a lot of difference between the two OPs (cause honestly they both seem insane), though I guess one could interpret FunPub!OP as much more depressing cause the only reason he’s evil is cause he saw life as meaningless unless history remembers you and when he becomes Nova Prime, he’s still a little jerk but he’s tamer so I assume that was his original personality. IDW!OP just wants total power and only initially hides behind a nice facade.

The two Megatrons are vastly different though in my opinion. Cause FunPub!Megatron really was just some guy who predicted civil war and was good enough to want to stop it (this Megatron wasn’t affected by the caste system, he just genuinely saw something wrong was happening and chose to do something about it). IDW!Megatron was someone who was affected by the caste system and was trying his best to bring attention to it. FunPub!Megatron is also very nice (like not overly nice but he’s genuinely such a nice guy and this is why he’s my favorite aside from him being a nerd lmao). IDW!Megatron is a bit more jaded (which is fair cause the caste system is horrible and his “friend” is an asshole).

Even the relationship between OP and Megatron are different in both continuities. I’m pretty sure in FunPub these two never interacted before the war, where OP gets pissed that this random mathematician is opposing him. In IDW, OP and Megatron were “friends” with OP even bailing Megatron out of jail, though their “friendship” was already toxic even before the war cause Megatron seemed to really see through OP’s BS.

All this to say, there should really be a crossover between both continuities.

SGFunPub!Megs and SGIDW!OP meeting would be kinda fun and dangerous, especially if they meet each other before the civil war broke out. Megatron wouldn’t know who OP is while OP would see another version of his Megatron who he could possibly trick. Also this has the added bonus of a hilarious scenario where Megatron predicts OP is the cause of the civil war through math and that pisses off OP cause genuinely tf you mean you computed that through math. This one is more dangerous though as OP genuinely wants power and will not be swayed by whatever Megatron says.

SGIDW!Megs and SGFunPub!OP might honestly end up the happier version ngl. Cause OP clearly has an existential crisis that Megatron can probably fix by convincing him that OP can still be remembered in history by doing the right thing… such as being a civil rights activist. Like… I’m just saying maybe FunPub!OP needs therapy (and unlike IDW!OP, he actually gets a canonical redemption arc so he’s not completely lost).

.

.

.

Anyway, will I write this? Maybe (I really shouldn’t though cause I have a series and two writing requests to finish lmao). Because I am officially employed now and thus have a fixed schedule unlike the previous weeks where my schedule was erratic (which is not good for my OCD as I need a fixed schedule or I will be very upset sksksksk) as I had nothing to do but read, play video games, and exist lmao

[princessleechan]

special treatment (m) - chapter 13 + written chapter

Chapter list

🖊️Chapter tags: MDNI, mentions of drinking, office au, secretary au, misunderstandings, mentions of insecurity and harrassment, virgin!au, one sided rivalry, grump x sunshine, grump!reader, shy sunshine!mingyu, still only one bed, omg there only one shower too, mingyu where's your shirt silly, wandering eyes, (w.c. 1.4k), longer chapter teehee

🖊️Tag list: @tomodachiii @humankimbap @aaniag @odevote118 @minwonwoozi @ateez-atiny380 @chisskaa @ninigyuuu @sarcasticsweetlara @bemybabiibish @blaycke @lirtha97 @kwanisms @nebulousbookshelf @gyubakeries @btsdomination @gyuguys @okiedokrie-main @jrinbb @lexyraeworld @armycarat2612 @cherrylita @jhornytrash @alyssa19123456 @chanichanvhan @minhosprettywife @jeon1w @perfectiondazesworld @skittlez-area512 @bmo-bri @blvked19 @leechansprincess @livixcore @jihoonsbbygirl @darlingz99

Mingyu tossed the phone aside when he saw you emerge from the bathroom, wet hair, and towel draped over your shoulders, a hair dryer in hand. His eyes couldn’t help but travel, taking notice of the long satin pajama set covering every inch of your body that wasn’t your feet and hands, and he expelled a sigh of relief, while the back of his mind had a gnawing thought that threatened to disturb the peace.

“Go on ahead,” you said, nodding your head toward the bathroom, “I made sure the floor isn’t too wet for you.” 

He quietly thanked you, shooting towards the bathroom without looking back, leaving you with the lingering vision of the subtle red flush on his tan cheeks before the door closed behind him.

Plugging in the hair dryer and letting the hot air run through your wet locks, you sat on the only bed in the room, the very one that mocks you for its singular presence and you sighed. You had no clue how you were going to stay in the room with him, let alone two nights sleeping in the same bed and the thought alone twisted up your stomach.

You had been keeping to yourself for various reasons but that would have to be put on pause if you wanted the trip to go well for the sake of your career. You couldn’t let any more distractions run amok and keep you from performing as well as you should. Not when the reason for your fall from grace was behind that very door. 

Tolerating—assimilating to his presence for whatever time you had left on the remainder was key. It was a change in environment, a different challenge for you to face; you like challenges. You could handle this. You just had to ignore the jarring circumstances, like the fact there was a very naked man showering just behind that door, that man being Mingyu.

Speak of the devil, you heard a knock from the bathroom door, realizing the once running water had shut off. You turned off the hair dryer and set it aside on the desk. “Mingyu?”

“Uh,” his voice carried through the door in a timid tone. “I forgot to bring a shirt with me to change into.”

“Oh. Tell me where to find one. I’ll hang it by the door.”

“I took it out of my luggage already, I must’ve dropped it somewhere on the ground.”

“Hold on. Let me try to find it.” 

You paced throughout the room, ruffling through the sheets, checking under the desk, and even underneath the bed, but the missing shirt didn't come up, frustrating you more than its owner.

“Anything?”

“No. Just stay there.” You insisted, your voice noticeably agitated.

“Maybe I should just come out.”

“No, you really shouldn’t.”

Not in drawers. Not in the valuables safe that neither of you have yet to touch. Not near the entry door that you’ve both walked through. You were stressing all your possible options, ending up playing a game of cat and mouse with a t-shirt—and losing. “Dammit! Where is it?”

“I’m just going to come out.”

“Mingyu, don’t —“

But he did. The bathroom door swung open, and in came your coworker and present roommate emboldening himself in the pajama pants he had with him and a towel wrapped around his chest securely tucked away at the corner, preserving his modesty. With crimson red ears, he ducked through the awkward silence, avoiding your eyes as he started to realize that his entrance came off more dramatic than he anticipated and immediately went on his search for the missing shirt to avoid confrontation.

You bit back a laugh before you clasped a hand over your mouth as he rummaged through the room to hit almost all the same spots you’ve managed to look through, coming up with the same results, hand over his chest to not even give an opportunity of a nip slip. It seemed all hope was lost until finally, he checked the one place you didn’t think to look: his luggage, moving it aside and picking it up to see it crumpled up and buried underneath its wreckage. “Ha, I guess it was with my luggage.”

He retrieved it from the ground, dusting it off and wringing it off whatever it’s collected, making it as hygienic as it could for something he essentially found on the carpet that’s been stepped on by probably hundreds—if not thousands of people. “Do you mind turning around?” He politely asked, gripping the towel only a flex away from popping off.

“Oh, sure.” 

You turn your back to him, getting him out of sight except for the small reflection bouncing off the gold embroidery of the desk in front of you, tinkering with your vision. Inadvertently, you caught a glimpse of his figure as the towel came off, briefly—just briefly showing what Mingyu had to hide.

There were his distinguishable broad shoulders, easy to pick out from a lineup, but his sculpted abdomen shortly followed, illuminated under the fluorescent lights as the shadows played with the deep valleys embedded on his body like rolling hills, moving with him as he took a deep breath. And then you noticed something dark peaking at the top of his boxers, something you didn’t initially make out on the lower end of his defined torso until the shirt was already over his head and the show was over as soon as it started.

“It’s okay now.”

You turned around calmly, not letting it show on your face of your wandering eyes as he walked back to the bathroom and placed his and your used towels on the rack in the restroom. 

You gave a small smile, as small as you can without giving yourself away. “Thanks. So, we should probably get ready for bed soon. We have an early morning tomorrow.”

He nodded in agreement. “I should take the couch.”

You winced, recalling this cliche scene from hundreds of romcoms you’ve been forced to watch since maybe birth. “I knew you’d say that and although it’s you’re the man and it’s kinda your fault we’re in this mess…I can’t let you do that.”

He shook his head, insistent. “But it is my fault, I should take the couch, not you.”

“Or, we can just share the bed.”

He blinked once. Then twice. He opened his mouth to find the right words to respond with and none of the ones he wanted to find their way out. “…Oh, uh—“

“Did housekeeping come by with the extra pillows we asked for?”

“Yes, they’re right there in the closet, but—“

You trod off to the closet, carrying the abundance of pillows back with you and dumping it on the bed. “We’ll just build a wall. It is pretty big and as long as we maintain a healthy distance it should be fine. No harm, no foul.”

“That might be—“

“It’ll be fine,” you pulled the covers off the bed before dividing it down the middle, fluffing pillows and fortifying your boundaries. “Do you sleep on your left or your right?”

“…left.”

You hummed approvingly. “Good. I sleep on my right.”

Mingyu watched as you settled on your side of the bed, procuring your sleep mask out of your travel bag and ensuring your phone alarm and necessary items were on standby. Meanwhile, he was still on the fence on the situation, thinking any move he could make would be the wrong one and given your history together, there was no such thing as being too careful.

“You’re surprisingly okay with all of this.”

You shrugged, already getting under the covers. “No need to cry over spilled milk. It would be more trouble for either me or you to wake up feeling awful from sleeping on a couch than it is to worry about what societal norms we should be following. So don’t worry about it. Worry about tomorrow and getting some sleep. Eyebags are a sign of weakness.”

You curled up on your side, the correct side as you slid your eye mask over your eyes, waiting for the stillness of the night to lull you to sleep. Reluctantly, he pulled on the lamp’s string and switched it off for the night before eventually dipping his weight into the mattress, feeling the bedding cushion embrace his body as the travel fatigue overtook his senses.

His head gently fell against the pillow, his eyes fluttering shut just before speaking up in the darkness to ask, “You’re really okay with this?”

“Good night, Mingyu.” You answered adamantly.

“…Good Night.”

[parasolladyansy]

We got Ingo isekai, we got Ansy isekai, and now we got Ikrik(?? Sorry if mispelled). Can we mayhaps get a Emmet isekai?

Haha, so first thing’s first: the Ansy & Ikrit who showed up in the isekai comics / doodles are not Pokéverse (DxP) Ansy & Ikrit (so don’t tag it under “DxP REWRITE” or “rewrite AU” pls lol XD)

Isekai-ed us are straight self-inserts while Pokéverse Ansy & Ikrit are more like AU versions of ourselves — they’re based on us & our experiences with the games, but live different lives (if that makes sense).

I’ve been meaning to make a comic or something distinguishing me from DxP Ansy - right off the bat, one of the biggest differences is that I have health problems that Pokéverse Ansy doesn’t have to worry about =7= (I’m sure with their advanced technology, they’d have found cures for this stuff 🥲🩵)

Oh, the funny consequences of basing your characters on yourselves XDXD

—

So, I’m not sure! In mipmoth’s original comic that inspired this AU of their AU (Hero of Bombs), they wrote in the tags that Emmet got isekai-ed to Spirit Tracks, & they’d reunite via a Linked Universe kinda scenario (if you don’t know, look it up - it’s a great crossover comic where all the Links go on an epic adventure! ⚔️🍃)

As for me, I imagined they’d just reunite back home as Ingo is just sent back much sooner than Legends Arceus, having helped Link defeat Ganondorf (me-Ansy going back home about the same time, arriving when as Ikrit does). We can consider Ingo’s memory of Emmet that showed up in the Spirit Temple a sort of reunion, along with whatever dreams he has of him. ^_^

On that note, I’ve been treating this Ingo more like the canon one, rather than the one my trainer is friends with & who’s featured in DxP REWRITE. I’m not sure, but that’s where I’m leaning. ouo

(EDIT: fixed some stuff & added some stuffs to help visibility ^0^)

[wooahaeruby]

Chapter 41: Stuck In Limbo

TW

This chapter :D It hurts :D It's really sad and kinda fucky. I don't technically have any trigger warnings for it, besides making sure you have tissues on hand. I'm, again, so sorry for my transgressions. I am evil. I know. It…kinda gets better from here, promise. :D

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The space around you was bright white. You were floating on a blank canvas ready and begging to be colored to life. 

Your head felt light, no ill thoughts currently gracing your mind. You tried to figure out where you were within this unknown light void, turning your head too and fro in hopes to get an answer. The void extended as far as your eyes could perceive. You attempted to call out but no words left. 

Lifting your arms to look at yourself, there were no rope burns that you believed should be there. The step you wanted to take forward didn’t do much, but your body felt weightless yet heavy, like you were moving through mud or sludge. You took in the clothes you had on; a loose, white shirt and flowy, soft black pants. The pants contrasted heavily with the pristine white that surrounded you, yet it gave you peace that there was something that was different here. 

Out of curiosity you started in the direction in front of you, taking the movement slow since your movement was slightly hindered. You couldn’t tell the time, but walked and walked through the empty space, hoping something would appear before you. Again, you tried to call out to no avail. 

Were you dreaming? You didn’t remember a dream so void of anything in the past, but everything seemed fuzzy. 

Why did you think you had rope burns? Where did that come from earlier? Swallowing thickly, you raised a hand to rub at your chest, flinching at the sudden pain just under your collarbone. You pulled the collar of your shirt, finding the fabric stuck uncomfortably to your skin. Glancing down, you could see a raised X on your chest. It stung and itched painfully but as you touched it, it didn’t hurt. 

What?

Your eyes flitted to your wrist, cut up and dark, dark bruises staring back. Rolling your wrists, it hurt, however, like your chest, it didn’t hurt as you touched the wounds. It confused you, questions spinning in your mind.

Come on . A voice rang around you, whipping your head around to find where it came from. Help me get her up there. 

Turning around, you came face to face with a black door. It appeared out of thin air in silence, but…the voice was coming from within. You’ve heard the voice before, it was familiar, yet you couldn’t place the name or the face. 

Looking over your shoulder, you questioned if the void was safer – if it would protect you. Yet…something inside told you that it wouldn’t, that whatever was beyond the door was better than being here. Safer .

Taking a deep breath, you reached for the door handle and pushed it open, coming face to face with a second void, this one pitch black. 

Yeah, let me get the x-rays, I’m going to get an MRI too so we don’t need to move her later.  

You stepped inside, peering around curiously, and an unseen force slammed the door shut behind you. 

“Hello?” You called out, surprised to find you could talk. “Anyone?” 

Biting the bullet, you took another step, hoping for a change, anything – but whatever you considered the floor was gone and you were falling. You screamed, sharp pain in your sides, face, chest, and soreness through your limbs creeped up quickly, only to be soothed by a numb sensation washing from head to toe. 

I gave her some pain meds and antibiotics. Another voice started. When will they get here? 

Unsure, I just called that we have her in a bed but they could still be listening to Wonwoo and Seokmin. That…Yeah, that sounded like Jihoon’s voice. 

The falling feeling stopped, now simply floating aimlessly in the dark space. 

She has a lot of injuries. Definitely a concussion, her heart is beating a little weird too. Broke ribs, internal bruising probably. She had some water in her lungs too. Let alone anything else we can’t see along with that branding. That sounded like Seonghwa’s voice now that you thought about it, laced with concern. 

You focused on his words for a moment, and everything hit you like a truck. 

Kihyun, Monsta X, and the torture they put you through. It was vivid like the first time it happened. You swore you felt someone’s hand on your hand, holding it gently, and you wished you could pull away and hide. 

I won’t know the real extent until Mouse wakes up. That is the part that is worrying me more. 

I don’t think she will be okay. Jihoon had sighed from what you heard. Look at her, Seonghwa. I’ll be surprised if she is anywhere close to the same when she wakes up. 

Enough of that. Just focus on being there for her when she wakes up. His voice was further away and the sound of a door opening followed. Leave her alone for a bit. We have food here. 

But-

Doctor’s orders.

Dude, you don’t even have a PhD. 

I basically do at this point, but hush, come on. 

You felt the grip on your hand loosen and fade away, a sigh of relief leaving you. The feeling was…uncomfortable. You didn’t want anyone to touch you right now. 

At least you had confirmed you were safe, hopefully your mind wasn’t playing any tricks on you about that. You probably hadn’t been out long, maybe a few hours, and they had given you some medicine. The question you had was why weren’t you waking physically? If they were actually there and you were listening, conscious in your mind, shouldn’t you be awake? 

“Maybe to let me heal.” You answered yourself out loud, relaxing in the vacant space. 

You couldn’t tell if you were facing in the right direction, though you weren’t sure there was a correct direction. There was nothingness all around you, a numb feeling from whatever medicine they pushed through you. You wondered when you’d wake up. How long would your body need? 

Yes, you could rationalize here in the in-between space, you could tell yourself you wouldn’t change, but the reality could be much different once your eyes open. Day to day might be horribly different. That left a foul taste in your mouth. 

You heard heavy footfall, a shout from someone and the door slamming open loudly. There were many voices surrounding you, someone grabbed your hand tightly and a head rested near your shoulder. 

Oh, my baby. The sob in Jeonghan’s voice was heartbreaking, but your skin crawled at his touch. 

Someone else brushed some hair back from your face and you flinched in the void. We are here, Mouse… That shaky voice was Joshua’s. 

Why isn’t she waking up? You think that was Jun but his voice wasn’t that close. 

I have no answer for that, only some guesses. Seonghwa’s voice got close and there was the beep of a machine or two. She was tortured, starved for a few days, and dehydrated. Shock could be a good reason, self preservation to get her energy and strength back. That’s the medical thoughts. 

Medical? Do you have some other thoughts? Jun didn’t sound happy. 

Someone cleared their throat. Spiritually, she could be in her own Limbo. That was Mingyu, voice rough. 

You sound ridiculous, Gyu. 

He…isn’t though. Seonghwa sighed. I’m not saying you have to believe it, but if her heart stopped at any point, some say the person questions whether to come back.

But her heart is beating now . 

It doesn’t matter. Mine stopped and started again. Mingyu continued. I...I got to pick. I chose to stay. We might need to let her…pick. 

Staring into the darkness, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes. 

Had your heart stopped earlier? You had no clue if it did, but there was a chance after Kihyun pumped epinephrine through. You remembered how fast your heart raced and it slowed so quickly before you passed out. Thinking about it, the chance could be a strong yes… 

But…you thought going through the door earlier into this space was your decision to want to come back. You were hearing your family as your physical body laid unconscious wherever you were taken to. 

That meant something, right? 

It meant you wanted to wake up…

Right? 

New rule because you all are way too many here. Three to visit each. There was a chorus of complaints flying around. Unlike your warehouse, I do open this place to people in need of free medical care.  

Then why not transfer her to us instead? Seungcheol asked, sounding tired and concerned. 

You guessed Seonghwa sighed. You and I both know that isn’t a good idea. If something was to happen, heavens forbid, your team might not be able to handle it professionally.

Clearing his throat, it sounded like Minghao spoke next. Cheol…It’s okay. I agree with him on this… 

You all can visit any time, I’ll keep the back unlocked but no groups bigger than three. I need to be able to violently push you out of the way if anything happens. 

That is so unfair. Jeonghan sniffled, the grip on your hand tightening. 

It is unfair, but she won’t recover any faster with all of your hovering. I’ll have a guard on her twenty-four seven with you here or not. Yunho, Yeosang, and I will be no more than fifty feet away in the other room most times. Seonghwa continued. Plus, SVT isn’t going to be the only ones that would like to see her. 

Give them, like, half an hour. Yeosang advocated somewhere in the room. 

There was a pause before Seonghwa reluctantly agreed, stepping out of the room to leave you with your family. 

How sure are you that it was them? Minghao asked, to who you didn’t know yet. 

I’m fifty percent sure, but I don’t have any way of confirming it until Mouse wakes up and tells us. Wonwoo sighed and a warmth was present beside your leg and you felt the bed dip as if he sat down. Whenever she wakes up. 

Someone sat on the bed opposite of him and the claustrophobia panic settled in your chest. Everyone was too close. You couldn’t push them away if you wanted to. The once comforting presence they had when close was replaced with the overwhelming need to be alone, away from everyone – far away from everyone. 

Then we wait. Seungkwan said reassuringly, confident even. When she wakes up, hopefully we will have an answer. For now, we just pray she wakes up soon and that she remembers who did this. We just need to be here when she wakes up.

Jeonghan, Joshua, and Seungcheol were the first three to stay under Seonghwa’s new rule. The rest said goodbye but said they would, in fact, be drawing straws for who comes in next to kick them out, along with the other groups getting a turn. 

They were silent for a good while, the only thing you were able to hear was the occasional sniffle and a sigh. Jeonghan still held your hand tightly and Joshua, you believed, was resting his head next to your other arm. His hair always felt different from Jeonghan’s. It still left that icky feeling in your stomach. 

I- Seungcheol started but groaned. I should have given her that tracking thing we talked about or something like that. It could have prevented- 

Jeonghan cut him off. You didn’t now, none of us knew this would happen. 

Still- 

No, Cheol. It happened, okay? Don’t go around blaming yourself like Seokmin did, it isn’t going to change anything in the past. 

What he said. Joshua sounded exhausted, voice muffled. We just need to take steps forward.  

Another bout of silence came before a groan and a sharp inhale was heard, along with Cheol speaking.

Fuck- This sucks. He sounded like he started crying. I’m sorry, Mouse- Fuck! I- We should have found you sooner. I’ll kill them, whoever they are, for them. I promise this will be made right. 

Why did Seungcheol crying pull something in your chest? Why did your heart feel heavy? 

He tried to keep himself quiet, the sound muffled but he choked out a breath. The space where Joshua’s head was growing cold, probably moving to comfort the leader. Soon, all three were crying. Tears were felt wetting the skin of your hand, the one Jeonghan was holding. Subconsciously, tears welled up in your eyes, floating off your cheeks and into the ether out of sight.

“I just want to wake up.” You pleaded the unknown, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Why won’t you let me?”

I don’t think I can stop crying . Seungcheol gasped, clearing his throat. I- We are a mess- 

I am so tired and have no energy to cry but shit, I can’t stop crying. Joshua signed, clearing his throat. I just want her to come home.  

She will come home soon…  

You wiped your face, signing heavily. 

There was nothing you could do to fix the situation. You didn’t know how to wake up or help yourself to begin with. Nothing made a lot of sense at the moment. Your attempts to find your footing didn’t find any solid place to stand or lay, leaving you suspended in the air. 

You didn’t enjoy the unknown, not that anyone really did, but this was another level of unknown that was harder to traverse. How long would you need to contemplate in the void before you were given a chance to decide your fate? What was there even to contemplate in the first place? 

She was only gone for a few days and I miss hearing her talk. I miss her smile. Joshua spoke softly. I miss talking to her about anything. 

Seungcheol hummed. This is going to sound a little weird, but I miss her cooking. Everything was thought out, homemade, and like she genuinely wanted to cook.  

I miss curling up on the couch and just being close to her. She is so…comforting. Jeonghan’s hand released yours then gently ran a hand up your arm to your shoulder. She is so gentle. A calm presence. I’m scared she will be so different later on when awake. 

Trauma changed people. We just need to support her through the changes. Minghao’s voice piqued your interest, not hearing the door open of anything else really. 

Are you kicking us out? Cheol huffed. 

Yeah kinda. Mingyu answered next. We won the coin toss against most of Dreamcatcher and I made food back at the penthouse. 

There was a loud, gurgly grumble heard close to your body and a stutter left Jeonghan. 

That- okay, maybe I am hungry…

Go, we’ll keep watch. Minghao sounded close, near Joshua’s side you believe. 

Someone kissed your forehead then a soft whisper from Jeonghan to tell you he’d be back soon. Someone took your hand and kissed your knuckles and the last kiss was to your cheek. That sick feeling of being touched jumped tenfold when you were kissed and you desperately tried to push it down. The nausea didn’t last long, they moved away thankfully, but you hated it. Hated that you didn’t, somehow, didn’t feel fully safe. Only Safer than what you were. It didn’t make sense.

They exchanged goodbyes and the scrapping of chairs surrounded you. 

Do you think she can hear us? The tremble that accompanied Seokmin’s voice had you focusing and trying to internally force yourself to wake up. 

I’d like to believe so. Minghao hummed. Even if she couldn’t, I’d still think she could to give me a sliver of peace. 

Mingyu sighed. Once she wakes up, I’m going to cook all her favorite foods like she did for me. 

I don’t think any of us will let her raise a finger for herself for a while. Seokmin’s comment had the three snickering. 

She might go crazy if she doesn’t get to do something. 

“He isn’t wrong.” You scoffed. “I’d like to see them try to make me stay still.”

Mouse is putting up one hell of a fight in there. 

Of course she is, she is a fighter! Mingyu huffed. And when she wakes up, we can tell her that she is a strong person. Mouse’ll feel like she lost all confidence and will feel really weak. We gotta hype her up. 

One of them took a deep breath before a long, wobbly sigh followed. You felt the air on your arm and shivered in the void. 

Wonwoo is getting a note for an emergency leave of absence from work, but…She might have to quit. I don’t want to make that decision for her but the people above me are starting to ask too many questions. Seokmin groaned . And I have to go back, but I told Cheol that I am gonna quit too. There is no way I can stay there with all the questions and rumors. 

Minghao clicked his tongue. Maybe it's for the best. Whoever did this could be vindictive enough to expose us and you both should get out of there. I never liked the idea to begin with. 

I spoke to Jongho earlier. Mingyu hummed and you felt a pinkie link with yours. He said we need to tear apart her apartment and find this chicken pot pie recipe she has from her grandma. He rambled that she made it when needing comfort or during special occasions. 

Didn’t she make it for Christmas? 

You sighed and laughed, smiling at nothing. “Of course that little shit would remember that to tell them. 

Have either one of you told her what happened before you joined SVT? The question from Minghao caught your interest. 

Last week she asked and we talked . Seokmin answered. Why? 

I dunno. I thought telling her would let her know we’ve all had some sort of trauma. That we understand that moving forward isn’t easy sometimes. 

Mingyu snorted. Okay, dude, some of your stories are insane though. I was just a gambler that was really good at card counting. 

You spend six months in jail, scammed other inmates with your card counting, and got the shit kicked out of you. There was an unamused tone in Seokmin’s voice. 

Seven months in jail and a five-thousand dollar fine, thank you very much. Oh! And I’m banned from ten casinos worldwide. I’m the only one in this group with a federal record and was on probation. 

Congrats, you were a prison bitch. 

Nothing wrong with that. It was stupid how proud Mingyu sounded, but he was one of your idiots so… Out of the three of us, Hao, yours is the most complex. 

I won’t compare our stories, we all have had different experiences with life. Minghao tried to justify but the silence that followed had him scoffing. Okay, shut up with your expressions. 

Yeah, can’t compare mr. ‘I’m a trained assassin’. Sure. Mingyu snarked but chuckled either way. Truly you are the drama movie life here. 

Him and Jun. 

For two cry babies that could barely breathe earlier, you both sure yap a lot. 

Don’t act like we didn’t see you silently crying in the corner. 

“You all argue like children.” This was a nice change from the tears you guessed. 

They shared a laugh, a warm, fuzzy feeling flooding your heart.

Come on, tell Mouse your story, or do we need to leave the room to give you some privacy? Seokmin snorted his words out, hearing Minghao sigh in return. 

Both of you are insufferable. 

Insufferably irresistible~ Mingyu hummed. 

Maybe you should leave, both of you. Minghao cleared his throat. 

Fine, but I’m going to see if Yunho has food here. Come on, Seok. 

The pitter patter of footsteps faded and a familiar hum came from the youngest of the three. 

I’m not really sure if you can hear me… Mingyu said he kinda could when he got shot… Minghao sighed through his nose. I grew up in a place that trained children to be assassins. Think…Avengers Black Widow but not as dramatic. Though- Okay, maybe from the outside it is dramatic. 

He laughed to himself, his voice sounded closer when he spoke next. Anyways…Jun and I have similar backgrounds actually. Trained killers that really didn’t know any other way of life. It’s why I indulge a lot in the finer things now. I didn’t even know my parents because of my upbringing. It’s why Jun is also a little childish, but we understand each other decently. It’s why I’m great with a gun and fighting. It’s why I know every way in and out of a building I walk into. 

I’ve hurt many people, seen horrors I didn’t and still don’t know how to explain. Most of my scars couldn’t even compare to the ones you’d be waking up to. 

I used to be told that emotions were faulty things that hindered the job I needed to get done. If we cried, they’d punish us. If we, as children, threw tantrums, we were locked in these pitch black rooms so we could reflect on our mistakes. For so long, it was all I knew. Missions, debrief, repeat, nothing else mattered. 

He took a shallow breath, linking pinkies with you as Mingyu did earlier. 

Someone that managed me – I guess I’d call her my handler – was sweet, always trying to break the emotionless shell I was. She was an amazing cook and made me try food from all over the world. Looking back, in a lot of ways, you remind me of her. Maybe that’s why I became close with you. You both are easy to talk to, when I learned to speak for myself in her case. 

She was the one that helped me leave them. It took a while but she did it and I was…free for once. However, for a period of time, I was alone until she got out too. He chuckled quietly. I survived off ramen and rice for two weeks until she came. She said we needed to flee the country so we came here. We weren’t here long until someone came to kill us. 

“Let me guess…Jun.” You laughed. 

And that is the story of how I met one of my brothers in person- Minghao giggled. But really, he tried to kill us under orders and I knocked him the hell out. Don’t think he expected the lamp to the back of the head, gave him a decent scar under his hair. Truthfully, I can’t even place how we got him to defect so easily. 

“Maybe it was the concussion you gave him, Hao.” 

The only problem after was finding a purpose. All our lives were as I said earlier. Then…she died in an accident. She was crossing the road and a truck’s brakes stopped working and it hit her. She died instantly, thankfully she didn’t suffer, and it was the first time I cried since I was a child. Jun and I were really alone after that. We applied to jobs with no experience and we stumbled upon Seungkwan and Chan by accident. 

“Note to self, ask about Seungkwan’s background…” You snorted. 

Seungkwan took us in, no questions asked and gave us a home. We all ended up meeting Jeonghan together and worked to build up Pledis and SVT. I…it was dumb maybe, but I asked if I could continue to do as I was trained, even if it was a little bit, if needed. It was the only thing I was good at at that time. They helped me grow into the person I am today, and I’m grateful for them always supporting me and having my back. 

He gripped your hand gently in both of his, thumb rubbing the back of your hand. When you wake up, Mouse, I’d like you to learn her name, my handler, but you need to ask me once- 

Alright, loser, we gave you plenty of time to spill your guts. And we have raided their snacks. Mingyu’s voice boomed through the room, the sound of bags crunching and crackling getting closer. I left a hundred bucks so no one gets mad. 

Slowly, their conversation came secondary to the tired, lethargic feeling that crept up. Your brain was fatigued, overworked, and you let their voices ease you into full unconsciousness.

Your eyes fluttered open to the divine smell of freshly baked, warm pot pie.

Confused, you weren’t met with the dark void, but rather your childhood bedroom laying in bed with your childhood sheets. 

You barely remembered it truthfully. The furniture and all the pictures on the wall were so foreign, a distant memory, long forgotten. You weren’t even close to the same person this room reflected. This person, this girl , had very different dreams, a blood family even if it was hiding an addiction secret, and a decent amount of stability. She wanted to be a nurse to help people like her father did. 

All those dreams got crushed the day her parents died. 

“Little Bear, are-” The door to your old room opened and your breath caught in your throat, seeing your grandmother standing before you. “Oh! You’re awake, I made your favorite.” 

Staring at her, any words that were in your mind slipped into the abyss and faded away. 

She looked so full of life, smiling brightly at you like you were the only thing that mattered. Her hair was neat, make up neatly done, and her favorite wash-faded, fuchsia apron wrapped around her front that you got her many many years ago. 

“Aren’t you hungry, Little Bear?” She stepped over and brushed some hair over your shoulder. “You haven’t eaten in so long, you must be. You are looking a little thin.” 

“I’m-” Swallowing thickly, you continued to take her in, seeing her for the first time since she passed away. “How-” 

“Come on, I’ll explain downstairs.” Your grandmother took your hand and gently got you up, leading you out of the room. 

Your home was the same as you vaguely remembered, homey and orderly. Your mother never left a mess, a busy body needing to fulfill her stay at home wife role. The floral scent with mild hints of cinnamon was nostalgic to say the least. Mom always loved making common buns…Dad’s favorite treat… 

“Are-” 

“It’s complicated, Little Bear.” She started, bringing you into the kitchen. “You and I don’t have a whole lot of time together. I wanted you to myself for a little while before they returned.” 

“I don’t understand, Gigi. How am I seeing you?” You sat down on a stool by the kitchen island, trying to wrap your head around everything. 

“Because you are here to choose, Y/N. You need to choose what you want.” She patted your cheek gently. “But you already knew that, sweetie.” 

“This doesn’t make any sense. Aren’t you supposed to make me want to stay?” 

“Now why would I do that? You have a home waiting for you out there.” She busied herself with getting the food from the oven, placing them on the counter to cool. “I’m here to see you and only you, not lead you to a place you don’t want to be. You don’t wanna be here, Little Bear. You have your whole life ahead of you.” 

“Are mom and dad-” 

“They will be here a little later.” She hummed, sliding a ramekin over to you with a fork. “They are the ones you need to fight against.” 

Eyeing her signature dish, you deflated, letting tears rim your eyes. “I miss you, Gigi. Nothing has been the same without you.” 

Lifting your head, you watched her come to your side and pull you into a hug, kissing your cheeks. “I’ve missed you so much, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this to happen, but it’s too soon. You don’t deserve to be here.” 

She sat down beside you and for a while, you rambled on about your life, what happened and how things have turned out. You told her all about your idiot plan of breaking into a warehouse but how it led you to an amazing (fucked up) group of people that you love. She gave you a high five when you told her you didn’t have one but two significant others and laughed when you told her how you ended up with each of them. 

Gigi ended up leading you into the living room and sat you down on the couch, kissing your forehead. She took a seat beside you and booped your nose, smiling all the while grabbing the remote. Furrowing your brow, you went to voice why she was going to turn on the TV, but a harsh gust of air whirlwinded you into a movie theater, the big screen staring back at you.

“I remember when you first joined me in the kitchen to help me cook. You were about four and a half and you cried your eyes out until I got that step stool for you to stand on.” 

The screen came to life with your standing beside her, kneading dough for biscuits that she was making for a small family gathering. You were all giggly and smiling, flour covering your shirt and cheeks. Gigi stood beside you, hands on her hips and she shook her head. She said something about you needing a thorough bath later and you squealed with joy. She got you a circular cookie cutter, helping you cut and shape each ball and placing them on a baking sheet. 

“And I’m so glad that your love for cooking never stopped as you got older.” 

The scene faded to you standing in SVT’s kitchen, laughing at the absolute mess Vernon made of a container of ricotta cheese. 

He, wanting to help and learn something to cook, asked if he could be your pseudo sous chef to make the multiple pans of lasagna. You gave him the first easy task of mixing the ricotta in a bowl with parmesan and mozzarella cheese to make a perfect blended layer in your dinner. Vernon went to dump the tubs of ricotta into the bowl but the container slipped from his hand and splattered all over the floor. 

He looked like a deer in headlights, mouth agape and he stared down at the mess he caused. You were going to pee yourself from how hard you were laughing. 

Seungkwan had rushed in from down the hall as you screamed, gasping for air. He too stared at the mess, disbelief written all over his face, before helping you clean everything up. He grumbled that the cheese got everywhere, but laughed when Vernon continued to apologize. 

“And I’m glad you’ve found other people that you care about and love.” 

Your second to last 99 line meet up at your apartment flashed on the screen. Games, movies, and a lot of drinking. You laughed and enjoyed the night despite the downfall that was happening around you. They cheered you up and made you feel safe at that moment. 

“Those SVT boys are waiting for you. You’ve found yourself a nice family, Little Bear. Though, you’ve seemed to have gotten into some trouble recently.”

You peered over to her and sighed, sinking into your seat. “I know. They are good people and they make me happy…Me getting hurt…I don’t blame them for that.”

She reached over and placed her hand on yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “And you shouldn’t but will you be able to handle the reality of waking up?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Sweetie, you know what I mean.” Gigi looked you in the eyes before glancing to your joined hands and that skin crawling uncomfortability creeped up once more. 

You flinched your hand back, leaning away from her. 

Another gust of wind whipped you back into your living room. Looking around, your grandmother was standing at the front window, peeking past the curtains then rushed to you, grabbing your shoulders. 

“You need to wake up, Y/N. Don’t let them tell you otherwise, do you understand me?” She was a little frantic, giving you a shake so she knew you were paying attention. “I love you, Little Bear. It was so good to see you after so long-” 

“Y/N, we’re home!” The crystal clear ring of your mother’s voice was heart stopping. 

Right before you, your grandmother was gone. You looked around but she was nowhere to be seen. 

Stepping into the living room, your mother smiled brightly, placing her worn but well loved purse down on the coffee table. She took your hands and pulled you to your feet, taking you in from head to toe. She cupped your cheeks and swiped the stray tear that you didn’t know fell away. You heard the door open again and your father came into view, dressed in his police uniform. 

“It’s good to see you back home, Y/N.” Your mother said, stroking your cheek with her thumb. “I missed you, Sweet Pea.” 

“Look at you,” The joy and astonishment in your father’s tone had you holding your breath. “My little girl is all grown up. I never thought I’d see the day.” 

“Come, we need to eat dinner, we need to talk! There is so much we need to catch up on. You have to tell us how life has been. I bet everything has been great-” Your mother pulled at your hand, and her words had you tugging out of her grip. 

“Great? Are you kidding?” Frowning, you stared at both of them. “For so long, nothing was remotely okay. You both died and no one in the family wanted me!”

“But- But look at you now!” She waved you off, motioning you over. “Aside from the little mishap here, you are doing great! But…we miss you, Sweet Pea. You should stay. Stay right where you belong with us.” 

Your father stepped close, placing an opened hand on your upper arm. “You shouldn’t leave us, Y/N. We could all be a family again, just like you’ve wanted.” He tried to gently push you into the kitchen but you resisted, moving into the middle of the living room. 

“No, we can’t do that more. I…I don’t want that anymore.” You shook your head, trying to collect your thoughts. “Both of you chose addiction over your own child! You are dead and I’m laying in some clinic bed wanting to go back to the people I call my family now!” 

“But they aren’t your family, Y/N. They aren’t blood. Look what they let happen to you!” Your mother rushed towards you, turning you around to come face to face with a long mirror. 

Your shirt was gone but your chest was covered, able to see every cut, bruise, scabbing skin, and the branding staring back. Your heart beat oddly, like it skipped a beat, and the heaviness settled in your chest that was felt in your throat. Shaking off the fluttering feeling in your chest, you turned back to them and the pure white void surrounded you, both of your parents dressed in white while you were in black.

“Baby, just come with us. You won’t have to be in pain when you wake up. You can be with your grandma too!” Your mother begged, hugging your father’s arm. “Forever, Y/N. You could be with us forever. You don’t have to hurt anymore.” 

“I-” Frantically, you looked around, anxious in the bright space, needing a way to escape. “I want to go home – going with you, that isn’t home anymore. That stopped being home the day you left me.” 

Taking a step back, you felt that same flutter in your chest, gasping for air to ease it. 

“They want me,” You forced out a breath, tears in the corner of your eyes. “SVT wants me, ATZ wants me, DC wants me, so many people want me to wake up. They’ve wiped my tears, they’ve brought me genuine happiness, and they’ve never judged me for being myself. They’ve made me remember what familial love is with you gone and I’m not going to break their hearts like you broke mine.” 

“We never meant to hurt you, Y/N.” Your father held your wife, looking remorseful. 

“But you did and somewhere along the way I forgave you, and I need to get back to them. I need to wake up, mom, dad…” Approaching your parents, you pulled them into your arms and hugged them tightly. “I love you both for bringing me into this world, but I love them more for saving me from myself.” 

“You…You have grown up into an amazing woman, Sweet Pea.” Your mother and father kissed your cheeks, tears running down their faces. “I couldn’t be more proud of you.” 

“I don’t wanna see you go.” Your father wiping his head, sighing. “But…your grandmother is right…you aren’t meant to be here. Be happy with them…” 

“I will, and I am.” Parting them from, you turned around, facing the familiar black door, watching it open and beckoning you inside. 

“Go one, I think they are waiting for you.”

Looking over your shoulder, you gave them a sad smile. “I love both of you…and I’m sorry…” 

You gave them a wave, whispering a goodbye as you stepped through the door, letting the darkness consume you.

…fuck up- I don’t want us to get caught. Yunho sighed, I snuck you in to be nice but if Seonghwa sees or hears us, I’m screwed. 

Then be quiet, idiot. Mingi snickered. 

You felt more…lucid, or what you thought was lucid. 

Well, you didn’t have to bring us in here. Wooyoung teased and the sound of a slap followed. Ow, hey! 

None of you left him or Yeosang alone to get us in here. Gahyeon sounded close, sighing and someone, probably her, fixed your blanket. 

Ah…99 line were all there, not just ATZ. 

She’s been out for five days. There was worry and exhaustion in Chan’s voice when he spoke up opposite of Gahyeon. None of the guys and I have had a moment of good rest in days. 

You’ve been out…for five days? How is that possible? It couldn’t have been that long?

She just needs time, Chan. Gahyeon spoke again. We don’t know what demons she is fighting in there.  

While you were still semiconscious, you weren’t floating or falling in the void. Any attempt to look around was only met with darkness, you couldn’t see yourself. There was a chill on your skin, a twinge of pain in each hair from what you guessed was IVs. Pain subtly radiated through your limbs, the brand on your chest itched excruciatingly, but your arms were heavy, probably from no proper movement in days. Your mouth was horribly dry and your throat hurt when you breathed in through your nose. 

Things were starting to come back to you, the reality of the whole situation, not something conjured up by your head. 

You were waking up – or, you were getting there. 

“She looks so peaceful despite everything.” Yeonjun hummed to your right. “I hope the time she has spent resting will be good once she wakes up.” 

“Mingyu and Jongho found the recipe in her kitchen and keeps trying to recreate it from what he remembers from Christmas. He has had so many of us trying it.” Chan huffed, “Nothing has been close to her though. She…made it so perfect.” 

“What are you all doing here?” Jongho’s voice had the rest going quiet. “You are lucky Seonghwa is asleep right now. He texted me earlier to check on her since you two were supposed to be resting too.” 

You assumed he meant Yunho and Yeosang. 

“Did you expect anything else?” Mingi asked. 

“No, but there are a lot of you here. What if she wakes up and you all crowd her?” 

Changbin chuckled. “Then we back up.” 

“Shut up, loser.” Wooyoung scoffed. 

You took a deep breath in, swallowing dryly. 

“Guys-” Gaheyon slapped someone a few times to get their attention. 

When your eyes first opened, you grimaced at the bright light, struggling to adjust. The white ceiling stood out to you before multiple heads popped into your blurred vision. Both of your hands were grabbed and too many people were rapid fire talking at once. Someone was crying, you couldn’t tell who, they crowded closer, and you were getting overwhelmed.

You flinched away from them, inwardly with nowhere to go, and your breathing started to quicken. They were too close, not enough space to breathe. The heart monitor started to beep loudly, feeling the organ beat violently in your chest, and the sound was the tipping point to send you into a panic attack. They started to back off, giving your space, and your hands were released. There was an angry shout before Seonghwa came into your line of sight. In your panic, you didn’t realize you had ripped the IVs from your hands and you were bleeding. 

You tried to voice that you couldn’t breath, gasping for air as your hands moved frantically to convey your distress. He – thankfully – picked up on your message and grabbed an oxygen mask and blasted the air as he helped it over your head and onto your face. You weakly pushed yourself up and Yeosang hurried to raise the back of the bed for you. 

“All of you out!” Seonghwa ordered with a boom to his voice, standing before the group of your friends, all in different states of confusion and concern. “Now.” 

“Guys…come on.” Yunho’s head hung but 99 line left with tears and whispers of apologies in their wake. 

Once the door was shut firmly behind them, Seonghwa turned back towards you, eyes riddled with worry. Your breathing started to even out but your hands shook vigorously at your panic, trying to clasp them together to the best of your abilities. 

“Mouse…” Seonghwa slowly strided closer, sitting on a chair beside your bed. 

Unintentionally you flinched away from him and hugged yourself, protecting yourself weakly. He cringed at the reaction, eyes scanning over you while giving a moment of brevity before diving into what needed to be done. Squeezing your eyes shut, you breathed in through your nose and out your mouth. 

“I won’t touch you unless I really need to.” Seonghwa spoke softly, reassuring your worries. “But you will need to at least talk to me. I promise you I will not say anything to anyone if you don’t want me to, but if you plan to harm yourself in any way, I will break that promise.” 

“Can I have some water?” Your throat was screaming, hoarse and sore from how dry and unused it was. “Please.”

He was quick to get you a cup of water and straw, placing it on the small table beside your cot so there would be no touch shared. You downed it in one go, gasping at the sweet relief that flooded your throat. He took his seat once more after getting another cup just in case, sighing through his nose.

“I’ve been giving you some painkillers and antibiotics. You are probably hungry so I can get you whatever you’d like – anything you’d like. I think it’s well deserved. 

“Have I really been out for five days?” 

Seonghwa gave a small nod. “You were taken on the thirtieth. We searched all day and night. And we didn’t find you until January first. Today is the sixth and it’s-” He glanced down at his watch. “Four in the morning, Jesus Christ.” 

You glanced around the room, taking in the different cots, the multitude of locked medical cabinets, and a shiver shot down your spine. Your skin crawled, out of place and uncomfortable; it was too white, clear, pure , and it reminded you too much of your void you escaped. 

“You don’t have to give me any details, however I’ve been running around trying to figure out what has made your heartbeat a little weird when we got you here.” 

Sucking in a deep breath, you turned your attention back to him. “They…They injected a higher dose of epinephrine than what's in an epipen. I-” Dropping your gaze, you tried wrapping your head around everything. “I heard you question or whatever that my heart stopped. I remember my heart was beating really fast, like it was in my throat and ready to jump out, then it slowed down quickly and I passed out or maybe-” 

Seonghwa stopped you, holding his hand out so as to not push you further. “It’s okay. It just means I’ll want to monitor your heart a little while longer. Would it be okay to ask about the burns on your sides?” 

“Wet sponges and either a generator or something, some things are still fuzzy and my head hurts.” Your lie was weak, you simply didn’t want to relieve all of the pain right now, there was already a pit in your stomach as heavy as a boulder. 

“Yeosang, Jihoon, and I bandaged and cleaned you up the best we could. I asked Sona and a few women she trusted to do anything else since I didn’t know how comfortable you were… We could only do so much about the…branding. Once it heals, we can look into plastic surgery for you-” 

“When can I go home?” 

“Home-?” He stuttered, collecting his thoughts and nodded, this soft, caring side of him show. “If you let me examine you one more time and promise to rest, I don’t see why you couldn’t go home later today. I’ll get a portable heart monitor you could wear on your chest that is all for you as well. I need to order it though.”

Only nodding to him, Seonghwa stood and you flinched once more. “Do you just want to get this done before people show up and I’m already awake?” 

Wordlessly, you nodded for the second time and he quickly shut the privacy curtain just in case. Seonghwa took his time mainly for your sake. He touched you as little as possible and apologized each time you flinched, but overall asked you to move your limbs to show him what he needed. He did get bandages for your hands that you placed on independently. He explained the signs of a concussion; heightened agitation, lack of focus, weird eating patterns, and asked to let him know if your headache persisted longer than a few days. When you needed to stand, your knees buckled and you fell to the floor, yelping in pain. 

It took all your willpower to let him help you up. If he noticed how you tensed up despite him gripping your clothes more than you, he said nothing. He gave you plenty of space after, giving you breathing room before you attempted to stand again, holding into the bed. Seonghwa explained it was mostly from being bedridden for days and to not beat yourself up about it. 

When he was somewhat satisfied with your mobility, he further went on about wanting to change the bandage on your chest, but offered to take you to the bathroom with the mirror and walk you through the process on your own. As per…third degree burn treatment, he had been changing the sterile bandages and placing an antibiotic cream on it to not risk any infection so close to your heart. It would, sadly, take a month or two to fully heal, but he was sure it would heal without an issue as long as you cared for it. You took his offer to learn how to change the dressings for at home care, but you wanted to see how it looked… 

Seonghwa hesitated for a moment, the discomfort evident on his face, but he agreed, knowing you’d have to see it sooner or later either way. He guided you into the bathroom after gathering what was needed and stood silently in the corner of the bathroom, staring at you concerned as you unbuttoned your shirt enough to remove the bandage. 

It looked…gross to put it lightly. The skin was swollen and irritated, dry as hell around the edges of it. The brand spot itself was white with spots of brown and red, blistering too, seeing the lower layer of your skin, which looked slimy and had bile burning the back of your already sore throat. You were lucky the shirt they changed you into was button up style and you could cover a majority of it while resting here. 

As promised, Seonghwa guided you through the proper dressing procedure and cleaning, saying he’d send enough supplies for a little while home with you. He pointed to himself a lot which you watched in the mirror to guide you, answering any questions you had. 

You could already hear commotion outside as you placed the last piece of medical tape to secure the bandage. Hesitantly despite the curiosity, you rolled up the sleeves and stared at the healing handprint bruises on your forearms and upper arms.

Staring at yourself for a moment, you cowered at the memories that raced through your mind. Every moment felt fresh, you would probably feel scared and uncomfortable for a long while. Hell, you were kinda scared to shower giving the drawing you experienced. Your body ached and all your nerves were alight with anxiety. 

“Do you want me to ask them to leave?” He asked, placing the garbage in the trash. “Or-” 

“I-” You fully buttoned your shirt, sighing at your bruised face and split lip. “I want to see if I can handle it with them…” 

“Are you sure?” Glancing at him in the mirror, Seonghwa looks nervous for you. He didn’t look a smidge confident. 

“I don’t have much of a choice, Seonghwa.” Sighing again, you made sure your sleeves were fully rolled down and checked yourself one last time in the mirror.

You looked tired, one could say ragged. Someone had braided your hair so it didn’t get knotted and tangled, probably Sona. Your skin was begging for a proper shower and you wanted your coziest sweater to sleep in. Everything was going to be weak as you healed, you just hoped that you’d be able to have some normal feelings soon. 

“Let’s do this.” You whispered to yourself and moved to the door. 

You could feel Seonghwa’s looming presence behind you, that prickling anxiety giving your goosebumps. With one final breath in, you pushed the door open, tensing at the hoard of eyes full of worry and tiredness staring at you. 

Chan tried to call out to stop them, but Jeonghan, Joshua, and Seokmin rushed forward and you recoiled away from them. They were talking quickly, loud , and at least one of them was crying. They were touching your hands, arms, and someone was holding your face gently. Someone else was telling them to stop, but they argued, not that you could hear the exchange with the blood rushing past your ears. You were breathing hard again, heart beating out of your chest, trying to push them away and struggling as the rush of the members of Monsta X holding you down flooded back. You didn’t know if you were verbalizing things, your panic attack scrambling your thoughts, but your body felt like it was on fire. Your lungs burned, your skin growing flush, and you were starting to sweat.

Every fiber in your body screamed that it was in danger – you were in danger. 

Someone yelled – wait – you think you yelled, screamed . 

“Back up!” Seonghwa yelled like earlier, grabbing you and pushing you back into the bathroom. 

Your back pressed into the freezing cold tiles and you slid down to the floor. There was shouting and the door slammed with a harsh thunk, the sounds outside muffled. 

Hugging your knees, you tried to stop yourself from shaking, rocking yourself back and forth comfortingly, sucking in short breaths to regulate. The pins and needles feeling was slowly building in your hands and feet, you were lightheaded and so glad for the cool temperature in the bathroom. 

You didn’t know how long it was until the bathroom door opened next. It was much quieter, but Jongho and Sona stared down at your broken form when you looked up. You tried to look past their legs, able to see many other sets of feet in the distance still. 

“It’s okay.” You’ve never heard Sona speak so softly before. She squatted down, keeping her distance. “You can come out.” 

“Everything hurts.” You sounded congested, complaining tiredly, and she scoffed while Jongho gave a sad smile. 

“Well yeah, that’s what happens when you pull out your IVs and don’t have any pain meds and have two panic attacks. Duh.” 

Jongho looked over his shoulder and huffed, whispering his words. “Seonghwa is giving them an earful.” 

“They deserve it for being fucking stupid.” Sona rolled her eyes, clearly unhappy after learning what happened. 

Slowly you peeled yourself off the floor, huffing out in exertion. Your sides hurt, your chest itched, and you think you were hungrier under all the heightened emotions. Sona placed herself between you and the rest with Jongho trailing behind, walking out to the open medical room. 

“That was the most reckless thing you could have done, do you know that?” Seonghwa’s tone and the tearful expressions most wore was enough to know the scolding and scare they got. 

“I want to go home.” You cut Seonghwa off before he could continue and there was a mix of reactions staring back. “I want to go home now.”

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[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Sugar & Spicy Books Chapter 4

Summary:  Y/N is an accomplished writer who is newly divorced, and out of fear of the unknown, moves back to her small hometown she swore she’d never come back to.  She comes across her best friend that never left, who helps her out of a tough spot.  Will old feelings arise?  Or is she just too big for such a small place now?

Warnings:  language, smut

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By the time they got home Sunday morning Y/N was thoroughly fucked out.  They rarely left the hotel room after that first night, and Bucky had paid for another night and figured things out with his mom so they could spend more time together.  She was asleep in the car when Bucky picked up Autumn, and trudged inside the house when they got back to his house.  

“What’s wrong with Y/N, Daddy?” Autumn asked, watching Y/N worriedly.

“Oh she’s fine, lovey.  Just tired after a fun weekend,” Bucky reassured her before shooing her away to unpack as he helped Y/N up the stairs to his room.  

“Why are we in here?” Y/N asked.

“You’re gonna take a nice, long bath, and I’ll get you some lunch,” Bucky said, plopping her stuff on his bed.  “And you honestly didn’t think after all that you’d be sleeping in a different bed than mine, did you?”

“I don’t know,” Y/N shrugged.  “What about Autumn?”

“I’ll talk to her,” Bucky said, kissing her lightly.  “I’m sure she’ll be fine.  She loves you.”

“I…Buck, I…” Y/N stuttered.  She was feeling a lot of different emotions all at once.

Bucky smiled at her knowingly.  He lifted his hands and cupped her face.  “I want you.  I want this.  Do you want me?”

“Yes,” she answered automatically.

“Do you want Autumn, this house, Woodstock, this as your life?”

“Yes,” she nodded.

“Then what are you worried about?” he whispered.

Y/N stared at him for a moment as she tried to figure out what it was that was bothering her.  Why was she so anxious coming back to regular life after such a life-changing weekend?  She felt sure of Bucky.  He was the love of her life, she knew that.  She felt sure about Autumn.  She loved her and was sure she loved her back.  Then it hit her: she was afraid of not being enough for them.  She hadn’t been enough for her parents, or as a married, faithful wife to her ex-husband, with a successful writing career, a large, beautiful home, a fancy, newer car, and all that came with her previous life.  

“I’m afraid of not being…enough, for you, or her, or…anyone,” Y/N confessed, looking away from him and trying to pull out of his touch.

Bucky frowned deeply and didn’t let her move.  “Honey, you are enough.  You are everything to me.  You and Autumn are my everything,” he said, his hands slipping away from her face and wrapping behind her, hugging her to him.  “I’m sorry you were taught that you weren’t enough for others.  You’ve been neglected, lied to, and hurt.  But you’ve always been enough for me.  You are so much more than enough for me.  I wouldn’t, couldn’t, even dream of hurting you.”  Y/N sniffed as her tears started to fall, trying to blink them away.  “I love you, Y/N.  I want you.  I want whatever you’re willing to give me, which I hope is a long, happy life together.”  His left hand reached back up to wipe away her tears.  “And I know I’m asking a lot very early and very fast but, it feels like this is where we were supposed to be all along…what do you say, honey?”

Y/N nodded.  “I want that, too,” she whispered, not trusting her voice.

Bucky smiled widely.  “Then let me take care of you.”  He kissed her nose.  “Let me love you.”  He kissed her forehead.  “Please?”  

She felt almost lightheaded from how much his words and actions were making her feel like a load was taken off her shoulders.  The burdensome feeling she held for so long on her heart melted away as he stared at her with such deep earnestness and desire that it made her knees weak.  “Okay,” she smiled.  

***

Y/N was relaxing in the bubble bath Bucky set up for her when she heard a soft knock at the door.  She peered up at Bucky as he opened the door and peeked in at her.  “Hey, so me and Autumn were talking, and she wants to talk to you,” he said with a sheepish smile.

“Now?” Y/N mouthed.

“Now,” he mouthed back.

“Okay, sure,” Y/N nodded, pushing the bubbles so they covered her up.  Bucky nodded and opened the door wider for Autumn, who stepped in with a serious look on her face.  “Hey pumpkin,” Y/N smiled at her.  

“Hey,” Autumn said quietly as she kneeled by the tub.  “Daddy said he loves you, and you love him, and he wants you to stay with us.”  Y/N smiled wider as she glanced at Bucky, who smiled back at her adoringly.  “Do you love me?” Autumn asked, looking like she was on the verge of tears.

“Of course I do,” Y/N said earnestly, reaching her hand up and sweeping Autumn’s hair back.  “I love you very much, pumpkin.  I know I haven’t been here long, but I already love you so much.  And I love your Daddy.  Is it okay if I stay?”

Autumn sniffed quickly and nodded with a big smile.  “Yeah,” she replied.

“Now listen,” Y/N said, turning to face her more.  “I’m not trying to replace your mom, but I promise to love you and take care of you like you’re my own, because I already do.  Okay?”

“Okay,” Autumn nodded more fervently.  “I love you, Y/N.”

Y/N smiled widely again and carefully hugged Autumn so she wouldn’t get too wet from the bath water.  “I love you,” she said quietly.  

Autumn left the bathroom and Bucky knelt down by the tub.  He cupped the side of Y/N’s face as he leaned down and kissed her gently.  “Thank you,” he said.  

“For what?” Y/N asked.

“For being so wonderful with her,” Bucky said.  “For loving her.  And me.”

Y/N smirked.  “You Barneses are just too easy to love.”