#Anyway this post bought to you by me checking the tag of show which was literally a het fantasy romance and people were annoyed the main gi | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

curatoroffiction · 7 months ago

Text

The Curse of Alice: Chapter 1

This is the first chapter of a new series for the Ikemen: Villains series. In it, the reader is gender-neutral and accidentally wanders back in time due to having a curse of their own. (Really, it's more an excuse for me to play around with time-difference shenanigans.) ----- Also Tumblr deleted half my Content Warnings in the tags, so please let me know if I'm missing any -----

Content for this series is likely to include;

Canon-typical violence (For any of my readers who are more familiar with my Twisted Wonderland and Obey Me writings, please note that "Ikemen: Villains" is SIGNIFICANTLY MORE VIOLENT AND DARK than those two combined.)

Canon-typical trauma triggers (Again, this series is so much darker than the other ones I write for, please, please, PLEASE pay attention to the content warnings for this series as I write it. I'll be doing my best to thoroughly tag)

Spicy romance scenes (These will also be thoroughly tagged so my romance-averse/touch-averse readers can avoid them.) I might later have some specific single stories that address AFAB player content in this same AU, but those will be separated from this series (You will not find AFAB-specific content in any chapters from "The Curse of Alice", but if you're seeking that content out, you might check out other stuff I've posted for this fandom)

----- Content warnings for this chapter;

Suicide mention

Suicide/Forced Suicide (It's a background character, but it's still DARK and vivid.)

MURDER

Blood touches the reader

Abduction

----- You aren't fond of tours.

You never feel like they really show you what you want to see on a tour. At least, nothing you couldn't learn from a written tour guide. Those usually have more information in them, anyways. Tours are always focused on showing you exactly what you're meant to see, and your heart calls to see what people don't want you to see. You yearn to see things that people keep secret.

If it weren't for the fact that you'd heard that this mansion had a particularly intriguing piano from the 19th century, cursed by the soul of a man who committed suicide in front of it, you'd have never even come here. A story like that is stoked with tragedy. You heard that the man had a long list of sins that came out after his death, which made you curious about the story, because it made it dark. Did he kill himself because he felt guilty? Did he kill himself because his sins were going to come to light? Did those sins only come to light because of his suicide?

If anything, it would make for a fascinating story study.

You're an aspiring writer who likes to test your mettle against darker plotlines, so you're attracted to learning stories that touch the macabre.

Unfortunately, the mansion only allows guests to go along with a guide. So you're trapped in a night tour. The mansion's corridors are lit up only where the tour guide leads everyone. There's many more corridors darkened by the night's ambiance, giving an eerie sense to the experience.

You bought a tour book, but out of respect to the guide, you aren't reading it. It's stashed away inside your backpack.

Most of the information the guide is giving is about how people used to work in this building, showcasing some of the old art of the time from around when the suicide took place. What intrigues you is that they don't really mention the artists of the architecture that much. They make some over-all claims about the designers and architects, but they can't tell you exactly who designed or crafted the banisters of the stairwells, or the tiles of the floor. You take several pictures of these fixtures, especially some of the more run-down areas.

When the tour reaches the room with the famed piano, you take a video of the instrument as the tour guide talks about the stories of the night that the man killed himself. Some passerbys that night had faintly heard the sound of piano music on the night of the incident. Particularly, a postwoman had a haunting account of the song being played. She couldn't place it, but she remembered it sounding mesmerizing, like it would have drawn her in, had the front door not been locked.

You take diligent notes, writing small comments to yourself about things to research as you do.

The hallways of the mansion are a veritable labyrinth. So when your tour continues, you find your eyes drawn to the hallways you're not allowed to go down. You look down a particularly dark hallway and see a small, white bunny rabbit on the ground, you pause and blink. "...." You look back to your tour guide group, but something calls to you about the rabbit. The tour group is already moving on, but surely.. They won't notice you missing from the group, right?

The white rabbit sees you and darts down a hallway, and you turn to follow it, separating from your group. The hallway it turns into is outside the grasp of the light from the hallway you came from.

It's almost as though there's a threshold here. In your heart, you feel like if you walk past this point, you'll be walking into the night itself. An impenetrable darkness.

Impenetrable by all except that little white rabbit, which you can see at the end of the hall, staring at you.

You feel.. Compelled to follow it.

You were so bored, and this is so interesting and exciting and it feels like you're actually chasing a story. Getting to see something the tour guides won't show you. There was no mention of rabbits. Does someone keep a collection of them here?

It feels like everything you were seeking would be found if you follow this rabbit, which is such a strange and foreign experience that you just.. Follow it.

It's hard not to, when it feels so right.

Corridor after corridor, you find yourself following the rabbit through the halls, until the rabbit disappears entirely. No matter how much you look, you can't find it. You must have scared it. What was a rabbit doing in this place anyways? You have so many questions, none of which are getting answered.

Looking around, you have no idea where you are. There's a room number on a nearby room plaque though, so you decide to try to figure out how to get back to your tour group by checking out the map. By the light of your cellphone, you figure out where you are and begin to head towards the main entrance. You'll get in trouble, but that's fine. You're used to getting in trouble for straying from groups, ever-curious.

As you're walking through a hall that you swore was lit earlier, you begin to wonder if the tour closed down early. You couldn't have been gone from the group for THAT long, could you? What if it's closed down already? You're walking into the darkened main foyer when you hear a hauntingly delicate tone drifting through the halls of the mansion.

The sound of the piano.

Ah, the tour must have ended, and someone was now playing the piano to make sure it was operational. You'll just have to explain yourself to whoever is in there that you got yourself separated from your tour group and apologize.

Phone blasting light, you open the door to the room that the music is coming from, only to get hit with a splash of something warm.

Something dark.

Something red.

You see the body of the man in front of you on the floor first. The last breath escapes the man who has obviously killed himself by stabbing himself in the neck with a knife, in the light of your phone's flashlight. A shiver goes down your spine as you're going to be sick. You're covered in a dead man's blood. Your phone has no signal.

The piano playing stops and you look up, your phone light illuminating 8 figures in the dark.

Is this.. Some kind of sick after-tour live action retelling of the suicide? "... I uh.." Your eyes keep traveling down to the man at your feet. It's so convincing. You're visibly disgusted. "... Sorry, I got separated from my tour group. ..." Your eyes watch the man on the ground. He doesn't look like he's acting. He doesn't look like he's breathing anymore. His body went limp, even with your interruption. Too convincing to be just an act. The wound looks too realistic, too. Blood pooling out from under him in a growing pool that makes you step back. Maybe it's a convincing mannequin? Your mind wants to make sense of this in a way that doesn't focus on reality. .... Whatever it is, your stomach is churning. Those special effects have to be really good, if they're special effects.

"Well, well..! I wasn't expecting a guest." You hear a voice from deeper in the room, which is dark. Too dark for an after-tour play. In the dim lighting illuminating the room, you can see seven figures all standing around in the dark. The man speaking to you, however, is stepping away from the piano, making eight people total. When he sees you in the light, he cocks his head to the side with a soft, excited grin. "Hmmn.. I'm not familiar with you."

"Hrm.. That's a bit troublesome. What should we do with them?" A man with rose-pink hair and a soft, milky-smooth voice asks, looking in your direction. "And what is that light?" He asks, his curiosity piqued at your phone.

"Sorry to spook you, but this is just a rehearsal for a play." A very easy-going man with a cocky grin looks up to you in the dim light.

"..." You look down to the body in front of you. "... It uh.. It looks pretty real. ... What kinds of special effects are you using?"

"It's a secret."

"...." Your face tells them everything, that you're not convinced.

"... Y'know, it really would've been better if you had at least pretended to believe it." His smirk is palpable. Like you just walked into a trap. It drops as he looks to the guy who'd been playing the piano; "What should we do, Will?"

"We should take them with is, of course - To the Palace's Reaper."

There's a click of a tongue and one of the men to the side is visibly scowling as he mutters; "That's why I toldja to lock the damn door!" a particularly gruff man says, audibly scowling.

Another man chuckles. "Well, I didn't think we'd have a tresspasser! You're a naughty little thing, aren't you?" He smiles to you, and you think you can make out a rifle on his back.

They're all so non-chalant as they stand around. The body on the ground has stopped sputtering, and has released its last vestiges of air. You know this isn't fake. They've killed this man and made it look like a suicide. Why? And why here, in this room?

"Why don't you come over here? There's no escape at this point anyway." The gentle tone of a dark-haired man beckons you deeper into the room.

Every part of your spine is tingling with danger. You have to leave. You need to leave. You've followed the rabbit into something horrific and now you're ready to go home.

As though he could sense your growing panic, the man from the piano looks to you with crimson eyes and a smile that's much too warm and inviting; "Come here, pitiful one." The words feel so much heavier than anything else said tonight.

Your legs begin moving on their own. You're visibly startled. What is this?? Why are you moving? You're moving against your will, and you want to run, but you can't. They only stop when you're standing in front of the man.

"Pardon me." He says, tugging you in closer so he can see your face better in the illumination of your phone's light. Your light also shows you his eyes in a way that showcases their vibrancy and deep crimson - Like the blood you can see splattered on your own clothes, it looks too real to be fake. You've seen red contacts before. These don't look like contacts. He reaches up and wipes the blood from your face with his thumb, and he grins. ".. There." releasing you from his touch and his control. "Forgive me for not introducing myself sooner. My name is William. William Rex. I'd like to invite you to have dinner with us tonight. What is your name?"

Your knees buckle as you're released from his verbal commands, and you drop tot he ground, barely able to stand. You're visibly dazed. The pink-haired man comes alongside you, looking at the device in your hand, peering over your shoulder. "And what IS that thing?" he motions to your phone.

"...." You slowly look to him, and give him a questioning look. His question is so outrageous it's ripping you out of your mental shock. "... It's a phone..?"

"Doesn't look like anything I've ever seen.." The even-toned, deep-voiced man with the rifle expresses, curiously.

"You'll have to tell us more over dinner." William kneels beside you, holding a hand out to you. He doesn't command you. He's practically asking you to come along, like you didn't just witness something horrific and somehow magically had your body controlled against your will.

When you stare at him in quiet shock, visibly perturbed by the idea of taking his outstretched hand, eyes darting between his eyes and his bloodstained glove, your heart sinks.

You're surrounded, and there's no getting out of this.

William can sense your hesitation, and he he begins to ask questions about you, redirecting your attention to talking about yourself. You're wary and not wanting to comply, but he doesn't force you like he did to make you come into the room. They stand around, patiently waiting for you to get your story out as William calms you down. It's like they have all the time in the world.

At your own pace, you explain your circumstance to the men, and how you got here. As they hear your story, William's eyes can't help but to light up as he watches you. But all of the men appear to be surprised, and intrigued.

"I promise, if you just help me find my way out of here, I didn't see anything-"

"Ooh, it's much too late for that now." William smiles, almost apologetically. "There's someone who will want to meet you."

Despite your protests, you're brought along and taken to their base of operations.

---

You didn't expect the horse-drawn carriage. Or for the block to look so... Different than it did when you came out of the mansion. It's the first clue that you're not where you're meant to be. The city in the distance looks completely different too. This isn't the city you've been exploring all day, this is something older. The buildings look different, both newer and older. There used to be a building with lots of windows out front, but now it's just.. Small shops?

Except that doesn't make sense. One moment, you were taking a tour, then you were following a white rabbit, and now the world is different around you. None of this makes any sense. You wrack your head as you stare out the window of the carriage. Did you bump your head? Have you gone crazy? Are you in a dream?

It's too vivid to be a dream.

Maybe you're crazy. It'd be easier to swallow if you'd gone mad. Maybe they'll let you go if they think you're crazy too.

What's weird is that they didn't take your phone from you. Kidnappers would take your phone, right? You look to it repeatedly, and you've gotten zero bars this entire ordeal. And now you're going further into what looks like the countryside. You're even being allowed to see the entire route to get out here. Why wouldn't captors take your phone? Wouldn't they cover your head to keep you from knowing where they work and how to get back?

One of the men in the carriage is eyeing you as you peruse your phone. It's a touch-screen. "... What a curious device."

You glance up to see a man with dark hair and a weary smile on his face. Like he's tired. Too tired. He smiles warmly to you. There's a blonde man sitting at his side who looks almost picturesque. Like someone hand-crafted his face. You look back to your phone. "...."

The dark-haired man taps the windowsill of the carriage, causing you to look up again, and he motions to the castle coming up in the view. "We've arrived. This could be the place where your life ends, the root of all evil - Or rather, our base." He's still smiling as he says this.

You look up to see the castle and it's astounding how beautiful and dark it looks in this lighting.

You knew you made a mistake following them into the carriage. You were just so thrown off by how the whole street looked different from when you arrived, that your brain went into auto-pilot, and you let these strangers cart you away.

Now you might die here. The word 'Might' is pulling a lot of weight in giving you a sliver of hope in this whole ordeal.

".. Is this real?"

"Unfortunately, yes. It's neither a dream, nor an illusion. It's what you may call the harsh, inescapable reality." His words ring out in your mind. This is not a dream, this is reality. Something tickles at your mind and you harshly find yourself rejecting it.

"This can't be real." Your answer causes him to chuckle, but you can see sadness in his eyes as he does.

"If you want to believe in a sweet dream, who am I to deny it?"

---

As you walk up to the castle, the curious pink-haired man comes up alongside you, asking a million questions about your phone. You show him the device, explaining it to him, confused. It really is like he's never seen one in his life before. When he sees that moving pictures can show up on the screen, and that you can interact with it by touch, he wants to learn everything he can about it.

You're hesitant to hand him your phone, as it's the only contact with the outside world that you might have, wherever you're going - But you do choose to open up a game on your phone to show him what it looks like. He's practically glued to your side as he watches you play, learning about this game. He's overflowing with excitement to get to see something so novel to him.

But you don't understand why he's so enthralled. Everyone here should know that phones exist, shouldn't they?

One look around at the prying eyes stealing glances at your phone tells you that they likely don't. While the pink-haired man is the most curious, the gruff man with black and white hair also keeps stealing looks towards your device.

---

A bright, excited, celebratory man's voice calls out as you and the men enter into what looks like a dining room, and there's the distinct popping sound of a party popper. You blink, confused. Is this how assassins typically celebrate their kills? His eyes rest on you. "Oh..? Who is this?"

"This is ___. They just happened to be at the target's mansion." William explains. "They appear to have technology that's strange and different, and the story they told us was quite interesting."

"Wow! What a.. Fateful coincidence!" The dining room man with dark, long hair looks to you curiously.

"You don't even know the half of it." William chuckles, then looking to you. "___, this is Victor. He serves as Her Majesty's personal aide."

..... What?

You stare in complete shock, not sure what to do. Surely, these guys are just fucking with you at this point, right? Your mind refuses to believe any of this could be real. It has to be some kind of twisted dream mashing up everything you'd interacted with that day. You must have bonked your head without realizing it, and will be waking up any moment in a hospital or something.

This can't be real.

Victor walks you through your experiences with the group, and asks questions about how you came to find them.

When you explain that you were on a tour group for the building and then you followed a rabbit down a hallway and found yourself lost, his expression shifts to earnest surprise as he only has one question; "What color was the rabbit?"

".. White?"

"...." Victor glances to the group, who all appear to have the same thought as there's nods all around. He looks back to you. "Do you have anything from the tour?"

You nod and rifle through your backpack, producing the tour guide - And your notes from the tour. "This was the tour I was on, and those were my notes."

He begins reading through the tour guide, intrigued. The dates and comments in it are intriguing him the most. Accompanied by the quality of the paper and the print on it. He's never seen anything like this, or any machines that can produce this quality of work. When he gets to your notes, however, he's even more impressed. "... And what year would you say this is?"

"----...?" you say the year you came from, visibly confused.

"......." Victor looks to the cocky guy from before who has been staring at your eyes as you speak. He gives Victor a nod. "... Fascinating. Well, ___, I think this might have actually been an incident of fate."

"...?" You look to him questioningly.

Victor reaches into his jacket pocket and produces another party popper, which he'd stashed just in case the first one failed, and he pulls the popper, letting out a loud sound and spraying confetti at you with a bright smile; "You're cursed!"

You stare at him in exhausted silence.

He coughs and straightens up to explain; "You see, we all here are cursed. You're familiar with fairytales, yes?"

"... Yeah?"

"Fairytales, stories, they all hold some tokens of truth to them, I would say. We each are cursed with a fairytale curse, which binds our destinies to a dark and turbulent path. I think you've got the curse of 'Alice'!"

"....." You look even more exhausted than before. Are they going to kill you, or induct you? Is this a cult? Have you been abducted by a death-cult?

"... I see you must have many questions. Please, feel free to ask away."

".. What is this 'Curse of Alice'..?"

"It's a term I just came up with right now!" Victor beams proudly. "I've never heard of someone with a curse like yours. Jumping through time to completely different realms.. Hahh.. That must be such a fascinating experience!"

".. Jumping through time?"

"The year at this time is 1886."

"......" You shake your head. "Nah. I don't believe that. Nope. That's just not true. Look, I know you guys murdered someone tonight, if you could skip the mind games and just kill me, that'd be appreciated."

Victor laughs, shaking his head. "Oh no, no. We can't kill you, we'll need to study you."

"Oh, absolutely not."

You hear a voice behind you, the gentle voice; "Should we kill them then?" You peer back and lock eyes with the gentle expression of Ellis. The dark-haired guy who told you that you couldn't escape and coaxed you deeper into the room where the murder happened. He stares at you in almost.. a vacant kind of way. "I don't think it would make them happy, but if you ask me to, I will." He seems to be addressing Victor as he says this.

"..." You turn your attention back to Victor. "So uh, what kinds of experiments are we talking about here?" wanting to avoid the outcome that points at death.

"We'll need to thoroughly understand your curse, which means we'll have to keep you under surveillance. And you'll have to work with our resident medical professional, Roger."

You follow Victor's motion to meet Roger. Your voice is completely disturbed as you flatly say; "... Nice to meet you, Doc."

"Oh, I'm not a doctor. My license was revoked." He gives you a big smirk.

You immediately look back to Victor; "... Please kill me instead."

"Is that what you truly want?" William asks, eyeing you with interest. Something deep inside him is intrigued by how his curse reacts to yours. He wants to guide you. He wants to know you. He wants to watch you come apart.

"...." You grimace as you realize they're taking your jokes literally. "... No. I'm just frustrated. And I don't want to be experimented on."

"Might be more careful about voicing such false desires." William motions behind you and you turn to see Ellis has gotten right up behind you without you noticing. You visibly startle at how close he is, and the soft-spoken man just smiles warmly to you with his dark purple eyes.

You feel a shudder run down your spine as you feel like your body just narrowly escaped death in this moment. You turn back to William. "... I'll keep that in mind."

Victor takes charge again; "You must have a lot of questions about us. Go ahead and ask away."

"... The thing is, you've read that guidebook now, so even if I asked if this was the murder of 1886, you'd know that you could say 'yes' to cover it up. I don't know if you're on a power trip and you're just messing with my head because you can, or if you're actually telling the truth. It's impossible for me to know." You explain everything. "And honestly, I'm not entirely sure that I'm not just crazy. That'd explain this whole thing so much more. I'm going to wake up in a hospital bed and discover I slipped and fell on those old tiles or something. I just know it."

The cocky man from before smiles as you speak. He likes how little you trust them. It's a good sign that you'll make a good partner in their line of work.

"Patient exhibits delusions of fantasy." Roger is already making notes. You shoot him an annoyed look. He grins to you.

You look back to Victor. "None of this seems real. Can you somehow prove that it's real?"

"You experienced a curse firsthand tonight." Roger motions to William.

The gruff man with the annoyed expression scowls at Roger, admonishing him for spilling 'state secrets'.

William just smiles to you and nods. "Yes, cursed people have special abilities, and you experienced mine earlier tonight. I can command people to do anything I want them to, just with my voice."

You're reminded of when your body moved on its own at his command. That feels real, but you're still not sure. "... Do it to me again."

William raises an eyebrow at you, curious. His lips wear a smile, but he's interested to help you believe that this is reality. So he holds his hands upwards, as though beckoning you into his arms. "Dance with me."

Your body moves on its own once more. You're pulled into his arms, taking up the position as the lead in a dance you've never learned before. You're visibly shocked and surprised. William dances with you around the room, amidst the circle of onlookers, before he releases you from his control.

You can feel that heaviness from before overtake you once again, except this time it's much less intense. You were a willing participant in this command. The more he has to overwrite your will, the more energy it must take to control you. You're still lightheaded though, as you spin out of the dance, visibly dazed. ".... Okay. I'll believe that. If that's the case though, then what's MY power?"

"Well, isn't that the question of the hour." Victor grins to you again. "It seems you can travel through time, though not at your own choice, which is a fascinating problem. Might be quite the handful keeping an eye on you. Just don't go following any white rabbits while you're here, alright?"

"Where IS here?"

"This is the headquarters of Crown, the root of all evil in England. Where we fight evil with evil. The cursed carve a path for goodness to survive in this world, and we learn more about the curses as we do." Victor begins to explain to you about Crown's operational code.

".. Evil?" Your tone is audibly skeptical.

Liam, the pink-haired man, speaks up now; "Yes, cursed people are doomed to commit evil and meet a tragic end." He smiles warmly to you. Much too warmly for the subject matter. "For example, when someone has the Cat's Curse, they can't suppress their curiosity. Ever heard of 'Curiosity killed the cat'?"

"But satisfaction brought him back - Yeah, I'm familiar."

Liam is pleased that you're familiar, but his eyes get a little sad as he looks to the side; "Well.. Satisfaction doesn't always bring the cat back. I have the Cat's Curse at this time. According to the records, the person who received the Cat's Curse before me dabbled in all sorts of horrific things. Arson, robbery, self-mutilation, adultery.. All to satisfy his own curiosity. He was tortured and had his limbs torn off, but still, he laughed through the tears and screams escaping him to laugh "This is a great new first for me!" before throwing himself into a bath of sulfuric acid."

You shudder at his story. It would make a great scary story to tell around a campfire.

Roger speaks up now, looking to you in the eyes. "If you truly do have a curse, which I think you do, then the safest place for you will be right here, with experts who know how to deal with such things, who can understand if you begin to do evil things."

"... I haven't had any evil impulses."

"Really?" Alfons, the man with the tired eyes, smirks to you. "Trespassing.. Leaving your tour group behind to follow a little rabbit into places you knew were off-limits.. The need to tell people when you think they're wrong even if it makes things worse.. Following a group of strangers into a vehicle to an undisclosed location.. Do you think these are the actions of someone who wants to be a law-abiding citizen?"

"......." The curse definitely would explain a lot of your behavior today. Though you've always followed things that catch your eye. "... If that's true though, then why now? Why did this happen now, instead of when I was a kid?"

"It's possible that it did happen to you when you were young, and you just didn't know." Victor explains, looking to you empathetically. It's not every day that someone finds out they're cursed and doomed to tragedy.

"..." Your nose scrunches up as you think through your memories. You did wander a lot as a kid. You still wander a lot. It would definitely explain some things. "... Don't like that."

"Not many people do. I'm sorry we had to be the ones to tell you."

"So what's this about fighting evil with evil?"

"You saw that in action tonight as well. We killed that man."

You think back on how the man died. It looked like a suicide. Your eyes meet William's, and he just gives you a warm, knowing smile and a soft nod. You shudder. ".... Why?"

They explain how the man was a key figure in some horrific underground organizations. The list of his 'sins' as dictated in your notes wasn't even half of the things he actually was 'sentenced' for, and the list was already pretty bad.

They go on to explain that cursed people are often regarded as dangerous and evil, but England is, at this time, the only place which has organized and nationally recognized them and their potential. That 'Crown' is an organization of cursed individuals, and everyone in this room is cursed. They go into the hearts of the most evil places in this country where police and military cannot touch, to wreak havoc and disrupt evil.

Victor explains that, because the nature of cursed people is to commit evil acts, this organization is meant to allow them to do that without fear of punishment, so long as their evils benefit the country.

And now, as a cursed individual who has seen this organization and knows what it's capable of, they have to make a decision about how to deal with you.

"We'll need to study you, that's certain.. But hmm.." Victor wonders out loud. His mind returns to your notes. They were very well taken. "... Do you like writing, perchance?"

".... Yeah."

"Then I think I have a solution~! While you're stuck in this time period, you shall be our fairytale keeper!" He's very pleased with himself. "You had wonderful prose and writing in your notes from what I saw, so I have every belief that you can write something worthy of using as our reports to Her Majesty. You'll write all the evil deeds committed by the people here, including yourself, and write them as fairytales. How does that sound?"

"That sounds like a fake job."

"I just designed it right now, isn't that exciting?" Victor's eyes dance with excitement.

- "It feels like you're just trying to avoid doing more paperwork.." The cocky man gives Victor a sideways glance.

His insinuation isn't stopping Victor's excitement train. "Well, what do you say, ___?"

".. If I say no, are you gonna keep me against my will anyway?"

"Naturally. You know too much and will still need constant supervision."

"And will saying 'yes' and doing this job for you at least give me some kind of freedom in this arrangement, and a chance to earn your trust that I won't go spilling your secrets?"

"Of course."

"Then I guess I'm on-board."

Victor claps his hands excitedly. "This calls for a celebration! Our cursed little family just got a little bigger tonight~! Now, let's get you acquainted with your new home. This calls for a tour!"

...

You really hate tours. -----

End

-----

Next Chapter ----- If you like this chapter, you can stay easily updated when more chapters come out via AO3;Link All of my other random off-shoots for this fandom will also be posted there under "The Curse of Alice - A Collection" series. Thank you for reading!

6 notes · View notes

eirenare · 1 year ago

Text

Hi hi~! Life update here

Hi there!

Yes, I'm still alive lol, it's just that 85% of my social media time I currently spend it on Twitter (I refuse to call it how Elmo Muskrat wants the site to be called lol), and 15% I spend it on Bluesky (which, by the way, if you wanna find me there, I'm Eirenare too there lol).

I'm still very veeeeeery much in my Reylo brainrot haha, so yeah, you might see me posting or reblogging every now and then some of it, although I've been as well into some other stuff lately (Elden Ring for example), so you might see me posting about that too, so just a heads up there about it (and don't worry, everything I post here, regardless of what it is, as usual it'll have its tags and spoiler warnings, a "read more" if need be, etc).

My energy's been specially low for the past months though to be honest, so I can't guarantee I'll be very active around here (except for private messages, I'll be checking these every little time), just that every now and then I'll come here and post or reblog some stuff, probably Reylo and other things Star Wars or series/movies, life updates too, maybe will share in a bit of my Elden Ring brainrot and theories as its DLC approaches and I get more and more excited.

Anyways, here's some random life update stuff and anecdotes that I wanted to say before I log off for the night here:

I fell into the Kalluzeb (Kallus x Zeb, from Star Wars Rebels) rabbithole some time ago and it was, and is, neat, I love them so much

earlier today I had churros and hot chocolate as desert at lunch time and I was in cloud nine all the while I chomped on them

apparently my brain won't cease to come up with new Reylo AUs which is amazing and so much fun but also if I ever showed you guys screenshots of my Google Docs you might just faint because there are just so many things there between WIPs I'm currently working on that are already on Ao3, future things to go on Ao3, vague WIPs, AU ideas... and my energy is running so low and I'm working on various Ao3 WIPs so yeah lol I don't think I'll ever write even half of the fics I noted down

I watched Barbie at the cinema and it became one of my new comfort movies and one of my fave movies of all time

somehow I'm not as bad as I thought I'd be at Elden Ring even though I'm clumsy, a scaredycat and my tunnel vision goes lvl 100 when I'm playing videogames which usually means "good luck remembering to look at your stamina bar and using key items", so seeing myself not get too stuck on bosses was unexpected and neat (in fact, funnily enough: somehow this game even makes my anxiety lower at times and it barely increases it at all even when I'm fighting bosses, go figure lol)

I had the chance to buy Final Fantasy XVI at a much cheaper price than release price but because at that site I didn't see any warning that it was temporary, by the time I went to buy it, it had risen price again so now I'm awaiting once again for both better prices and for my wallet to recover

my brother bought a PS5 back in spring and a copy of Star Wars Jedi Survivor and, since we live in the same house, I did play that game and it was amazing asdfgffdgfjfb there were only a very few things I didn't like that much but holy shit was it good, some stuff even felt tailor-made for me in ways I wasn't expecting but that I enjoyed very much (and also the tears, the rivers of tears I shed on certain scenes lol) and now I'm super hyped for the 3rd whenever it is that it'll happen

the official Star Wars accounts at Twitter have been posting quite a bit about Reylo and the sequels and Ben for the past days (and I gotta say, the account from Spain even added some extra Reylo flavor in some tweets that other accounts didn't which is curious) and I'm clowning kinda hard, hoping that DLF finally realized most of the people actually like a lot Reylo (or don't mind it) and the ST, and hoping (always hoping, always dreading to hope too much, but hoping anyways) that we'll get Rey and Ben reunited in her movie

Anyways x2, enough anecdotes and thoughts for the night, see you around lovely people~! <3 Hopefully soon lol, but if not... *looks at 2024 fast approaching* if not, then I'll 100% be around to gossip and scream for when the Rey movie begins production and talks begin and all that stuff, lol.

Good night~! :D I hope you have a great day and/or a good sleep~! <3

EDIT: looooool apparently this was my 100th post in here and I got a free badge for my profile so yay, nice~ x) XDD

#My life #Life update #My personal life #Reylo #(adding Reylo to the tags because there's a little bit of talking about how the official SW Twitter accounts have been posting about it)#(which is kiiiind of sus if you ask me but maybe that's my clown ass hoping for good things in post-TROS aka the Rey and Ben reunion)

3 notes · View notes

born-to-lose · 1 year ago

Note

(@ your tags on the cramming a band's discography before a concert post) girl I listen to the artists who I go see live for years and don't get to meet them what the- 😭 gimme a slice of your luck pls

It's literally the only thing I'm lucky with, please don't be jealous, I promise my life sucks otherwise 😭😭 but I don't think it's about how long you've been listening to them and just how approachable they are, e.g. you're not gonna meet Slash as easily as some obscure band who plays clubs. Like

Oceans I didn't listen to before, but when I met them to get autographs and pictures with them and got into talking with the vocalist to ask if they wanted to play my local club, I found out we're from the same town

Lost Society I obviously listened to since they were the reason I even got the tickets where Oceans opened for them, I met Taz (who already played in Santa Cruz who I had been into for one and a half years at that point so that was probably the most starstruck I've felt and I was actually a bit awkward) and Mirko for a quick chat and pictures

Before I saw Nasty Ratz for the first time, I checked out like two songs, but I just had a beer with the singer the second time they played here so we'll count that as knowing them before

By Speed Stroke I think I checked out one song, but it was more of a background music thing while doing chores so it wasn't active listening, at the merch stand I met the singer and briefly talked to him about the show and he thanked me for my support (I should have asked for an autograph goddammit and the second time I saw them two months ago nobody was at the merch stand so I couldn't even get the shirt and two CDs I hadn't bought the first time, oh well they'll probably be back next year anyway). I think he recognized me last time too and I also got to sing one line of a song into the mic because I was in the front row

I also only checked out one song by The Royal Beggars beforehand and during the pause between the last two bands I hung out with them for half an hour, got the title "their biggest fan" and the bassist's "favourite person in the whole world" which I hope his long term girlfriend doesn't know about, was gifted a shirt, had a bunch of pictures taken with them, got my CDs signed, hugged all of them etc you know the story because I'll forever keep bragging about this

Another thing I developed a god complex over was meeting the singer and the guitarist of Superhorror. In this case I hadn't gotten the chance to check out their music and went into it only knowing they play horrorpunk. The guitarist just offered me a cigarette and went to have the rest of the band sign my CDs while the singer and I were talking and well. I kissed him and before I left he hugged me

#i'm so sorry this turned into a brag fest 😭 but now you know how they all happened #you see anon except for maybe lost society you haven't heard of any of them which means i'm just good at chatting up unknown bands #if you go to small venue shows i suggest approaching them to compliment them on their show and the rest should flow naturally #ask #anon #mel's concert stories

2 notes · View notes

theeveninghour · 3 months ago

Text

this is not really the fandom i write for, but my god i logged onto tumblr to read ghost smut and this post struck a horny little chord within me and i could not stop myself.

WC: 3.5ish words.

CW: Talk of anxiety, phone sex (obvs), dirty talk (again obvs), mutual masturbation (can i get a hell yeah?). Mostly just Simon being hot all the time tbh because I love beefy men. Smut below the cut, 18+ only MDNI. Plus size reader friendly cause fat women are hot. This is not proofread but I offer it anyway because I need it out of my brain.

Simon’s hand twitched for his phone, which sat locked, face down on the transport seat next to him. He should not text you again. He’d already inundated you with three texts since they’d come up for air after leaving the black site less than 45 minutes ago.

Hi lovie, call tonight?

I missed you.

Send me a photo when you can?

All sent off in rapid fire succession. Gaz had teased him endlessly for being “down bad” as he’d put it. Simon had grunted a noncommittal dismissal of the subject but he knew the truth. You’d wormed your way in, beyond his defenses, and carved a little home out within his heart and there you stayed, like a house cat lounging in the afternoon sun: warm, secure, and loved.

He’d worked his way back from the brink after nearly losing Johnny a year and a half prior. He’d come back from that mission a little meaner, a little harder. He’d been ready to lash out constantly, looking for fights, until you showed up. He’d taken one look at you smiling at him from across the deserted pub and forced the voices in his head to quiet. You’d sent a drink his way and he tried desperately to remember what it was like to flirt with an attractive woman. He hadn’t done it in years —close to a decade, he’d reckon.

He shuffled over to you with the drink in hand, shoulders hunched in an effort to make himself smaller, less intimidating. You’d made eye contact immediately and smiled, said this had been your spot for a few months now since you moved and you always bought a drink for newbies. He hadn’t the heart to tell you he’d been coming here on and off since he was 20 years old.

You asked for his number that night, taking your chance on the mysterious man, eyes tracing the scar above his brow, blond lashes and surgical mask he wore tightly around the lower half of his face. You didn’t question the mask, and when he asked why later, after you two had been together for a little over two months, you laughed and told him it wasn’t your business at the time, because, “I knew you’d tell me eventually, might’ve pushed harder if I’d known you were so handsome under there though.”

Simon had huffed into the pillow as your hands gingerly traced his cheek, the knuckle of your pinky grazing the scar bisecting his upper lip. He’d seen the love in your eyes then and it was the first time he didn’t run from it.

He felt the phone buzz next to him and tried to play it calmly, picking it up as if to check the time. It’d been 25 days since you’d spoken. Simon was starved for you. He craved any reminder of you: a text, a letter, a photo, the engagement ring on the chain beside his dog tags, just in case the unthinkable happened. He’d allowed himself to hold that ring nightly while away, pressing it to his lips each time he picked up a gun. He’d purchased it 6 months after you’d started dating officially.

Simon was indeed terribly gone for you. It had taken him nearly 5 and half months to say he loved you, and when he did, he whispered softly in a shared breath between your two bodies curled around each other in bed. You’d fallen asleep with a smile in your face and Simon felt you settle into heart permanently. He’d bought the ring the following week.

The text message hit first: Hi handsome, long time no talk. I missed you something fierce. Call in an hour?

Followed quickly by a photo of you in your shared kitchen back home in England. You were in his shirt (fuck), hair loose around your face, teeth gleaming in your high wattage smile, eyes scrunched up against the apples of your cheeks. His eyes traced down the line of your body only to realize quickly you were naked from the waist down (double fuck). His heart thrummed at the sight of you and at the view of your thick thighs under the hem of his shirt, he felt his first surge of libido in nearly a month.

Simon’s lips split into a grin under mask, you little instigator.

Make it two? Should give me time to debrief and get settled back on base.

He took a grounding breath and pressed his thumb into the scar at his wrist. You were still there, still alive, nothing was wrong. He’d begun counting to 10 before he’d realized it, circling back until he’d counted 10 times. Still his beautiful girl that he couldn’t wait to return home to.

Debrief? That a euphemism, solider?

Yeah, you were instigating but it made Simon huff a laugh despite himself, forgetting his counting, releasing his wrist, and turning all of his thoughts to you.

Simon settled onto the much too small twin bed in his barracks. As a lieutenant, he was granted his own space away from the standard issue but still within a wing reserved for the 141. He’d heard Johnny and Gaz before, when they video called their birds back home. He hoped they’d stay out long enough that he wouldn’t have to hear any jabs about it tomorrow.

He took a steadying breath and fired off a text: Ready for me, lovie?

Your reply was within seconds: Always

He tapped your number and pressed the phone tightly to his ear, heart racing as he heard the ringback tone.

“Hi baby,” you answered warmly, cheeks heating and lips grinning. Talking to Simon made you feel like you were going to vibrate out of your skin, every single time.

Simon let loose a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, “Hi lovely girl, I missed you.”

“Missed you too, Si. Way too quiet around here without you,” you’d murmured, settling onto the queen sized bed you two shared when he was home.

Simon hummed in agreement, “Thought that’s why you got the cat?”

You’d adopted an adult cat two months before Simon had been deployed this time. Named him Grimace, since he’d been found in a Maccie’s car park too. Simon had found it a ridiculous name and told Johnny, who thought it was hysterical and encouraged the adoption of a second cat named the Hamburglar.

You snorted. “He’s been great I’ll have you know! A terror at times, but I’m glad someone is here to listen to me ramble in the kitchen.”

Simon smiled wistfully. You talked a lot. It was an insecurity of yours and a manifestation of your own anxiety— a product of growing up rough, and having silences be something to fear in your household. Simon would always listen dutifully, nodding along, then kiss you mid sentence to halt whatever spiral you found yourself in. You were his grounding force and he tried to be the same for you.

“I think you underestimate how much I love your chatter,” he’d said softly, causing your face to heat, teeth catching your lower lip to keep the nervous, smitten giggle from escaping. God, you loved him.

“Anything else you love about me? I could do with the ego boost,” you’d countered. His smart girl, quick as a whip always.

Simon laughed and hummed thoughtfully, he knew where you were leading this conversation. He’d been half hard since you’d sent him that photo two and half hours prior.

“Love that you make me laugh, that you don’t question the depth of my feelings for you. Love your kindness and sweetness.” He took a breath, “I really love that arse of yours though.”

His forwardness startled a laugh out of you and he felt incandescent at the sound. “Oh yeah?” you said, still giggling.

“Mhmm,” Simon rattled, settling his palm over the length of his cock, pressing ever more insistently at the seam of his sweatpants.

“Simon,” you breathed, steeling your nerves for the next ask, “if you were here right now, what would you do?” Simon’s breath left him in a rush. OH.

“Why don’t you tell me what you’re wearing and we’ll go from there?” He prompted in return, half a million fantasies ping ponging around his brain.

You breathed a small laugh, “your Misfits shirt, the one with the hole in the shoulder?” Simon hummed and nodded, he knew the one you’d been wearing in the photo. It had been spinning ceaselessly in his mind since.

“Been wearing it since I got home from work, stripped as soon as I got in.” Your fingers played with the frayed hem of Simon’s faded shirt as you contemplated your next words.

“Only other thing is that lacy thong you like, but I’m hoping you’ll ask me real nicely to take it off for you.” You were good at flirting with him, you always had been, it’s why the two of you had clicked so well to begin with.

Simon’s eyes closed and he lifted his hips to grind his dick into the hard line of his palm, he ventured a breath before reopening his eyes and dipping his hand the waistband of his pants and jerking loose, quick strokes up the length of his dick.

“I think I’d prefer if I took those off of you with my teeth,” he said with a quiet dominance, hand squeezing the base of his cock, before tugging roughly up and circling his thumb to swipe pre-cum from the tip.

Your breathing shuddered and you felt a liquified warmth start at the base of your spine and ignite upwards, before pooling in your lower belly.

“I’d quite like that,” you said quietly. “I’m assuming that means you want them off?” you intoned the question playfully.

“Yes, lovely girl. Take them off. Shirt too.” Simon’s breathing had sped up and he slowed his pace, removing his hand and staying his ministrations. He’d cum in two minutes flat if he wasn’t careful.

He listened to your breathing shorten as you moved about on the other side of the line, sheets rustling, before he heard your voice return to him. “you’d better be naked too, loverman,” you said softly, running your free hand down your body and resting at the soft of your belly.

You’d been insecure the first time with Simon. You weren’t small, you had a belly, rolls, and stretch marks. “Like the Venus though, innit?” Simon had said that night, hands full of you, “a little goddess all mine.” He’d worshipped you as such too.

Simon huffed a laugh on the opposite end. “Thought I was giving orders?” he questioned.

“I asked for your fantasy, Si. That include bossing me around?” The question exited your mouth and sent pure fire burning up his spine. He’d flexed his dominance before during rough sessions with you, but you’d never ventured full into anything remotely dominant/submissive.

Truth be told, Simon didn’t know if he could handle the darker parts of domination with you. He couldn’t bear the thought of degrading you, or pain play. But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t positively giddy at the thought of controlling you in the bedroom, of fucking you up a little bit. His sweet and lovely girl, ruined by his hands, mouth, and cock.

“Do you want fantasy, or do you want me to make you cum?” he snipped back, startling a breath out of you, but you remained silent. “I asked you a question, lovie, I expect an answer.”

You could feel yourself growing wetter by the minute, you closed your eyes and listened in for a moment, focusing on the sound of his breathing, feeling the warmth pooling in the cradle of your hips. “Yeah, Si,” you whispered, “I want you to make me cum.”

“Good girl.” There it was, the devastating phrase that made you gasp and slam a palm over your mouth.

Simon chuckled before continuing. “To answer your question, I’d start by getting you naked and laying you out,” he breathed, and closed his eyes imagining the last time he’d seen you. “I’d kiss your sweet little cunt first.”

Simon’s hand found his hardness again, and he leaned up to spit into his palm before slicking up the length. “You touching that pussy, lovie?”

You nodded before remembering he couldn’t see you and let out a breathy, “yeah,” before trailing off in a hum.

Simon smiled, “Touch it real slow for me. Little circles on that clit, dip down into your wetness and bring it back up and circle a little faster.” He encouraged you and listened to your breathing, while he stroked himself slowly in time with the sound of your fingers working at your core. The sloppy wet noises making him feel unhinged as he pressed closer to his own climax.

He heard your breathing pick up, a tell that your were close. “Stop,” he commanded.

You blinked and made a noise of confusion down the line. “Si, please,” you whined.

Simon shook his head, “Hands off, I said.” You complied and worked to steady your breathing, moving your wet fingers to clutch at the ample flesh of you breast, kneading before pinching the nipple.

“After I eat you within an inch of your life, I’m going to have you ride me.” He tugged harder at his own cock and groaned, “what a sight you are when you ride me too, especially after an orgasm. You get so pliant, I could use you like my little fuck doll.”

You gasped out a small moan at his statement. This motherfucker was dangerous, his words were licking the flames of your arousal and your hips ground into the mattress, legs pressing together desperate for relief.

Simon smiled, “Your cunt is always so wet for me too.” He thumbed a circle around the tip of his dick, and let out a quiet moan that had you shaking. “Like it was made for me, huh?”

“Yes, Si,” you sounded pathetic to your own ears and you could not care less. “All yours,” you answered softly.

Simon hummed, “that’s my girl.” The statement muddled your brain further, the haze of arousal too thick to remotely begin a line of rational thought.

“Simon?” you asked breathlessly, “are you touching yourself?”

He laughed, “yeah baby, I am, you wanna see?” he offered before hearing your immediate and desperate ‘Uh-huh’.’ He moved his phone from his ear and flipped to his camera, stroking his dick a few times before taking a photo and sending it your way.

From where the phone rested at your ear, you felt the vibration rattle through your body like an earthquake. You fumbled indelicately to put Simon on speaker and open the message quickly. You could see his hand, big as ever, the tattoos at his wrist, all raw masculinity wrapped around quite possibly the biggest cock you’d ever seen. He was thick, long and flushed the most beautiful pink, with a nest of blond curls at the base.

“I’m gonna get my mouth on that,” you spoke without thinking and leading Simon to pause his ministrations and laugh fondly.

“Oh yeah? That your plan?” he questioned breathlessly. You were so much fun. Simon had a complicated relationship with sex. He sought it out in anonymous hookups for a long time before you, he tried men and women in effort to fix something within himself. What the military couldn’t fix, sex was his second option. He hadn’t realized love could also be a panacea for the soul too.

You hummed, “I think I’ll start on my knees for you, like a good girl.” Simon groaned at the visual, you had a wicked mouth. “Won’t even use my hands until you give me permission,” you added.

Fucking hell. Simon sped up the hand fisting at his dick and groaned thinking of you on your knees, hands behind your back, pretty eyes on him.

“I’ll get you nice and hard through your trousers with my mouth until you tell me to take it out,” you spoke while massaging the flesh of your breast, before switching to the opposite side. “Get my mouth on you, let you slap it on my tongue, fuck my throat a little maybe,” you added the last portion with a nonchalance that made him feral.

He pulled in a harsh breath through his teeth and hummed to ground his breathing, “I thought you wanted me to make you cum,” he countered, “meanwhile I’m about two seconds away from cumming in my pants like a teenager.”

His honesty made you laugh. “I think that’s the point,” you said softly, running a hand through your hair and trying to take the moment to ground yourself. “I didn’t even get to the part about letting you feel yourself fucking my throat.”

Simon’s breath left in one blow and growl bubbled up in his throat. No, you could never be a little submissive for him, you were too antagonistic and bratty, and he fucking loved it.

“That little silicone number you keep in your drawer?” he questioned. “Take it out and grind your little cunt on it for me.”

Your breathing shuttered as you rolled over quickly and pulled out the little silicone dick you kept there for when Simon was away. He’d also used on you a few times, once as he’d worked open your ass and fucked you stupid.

As the head of the toy met your clit, you moaned loudly, the sound sending a tremor down Simon’s spine as he fisted the base of his cock to preventing himself from finishing right then and there.

“Get it wet for me, yeah? Then fuck it in real nice and slow, just like I do.”

You follow his instructions, gasping at each push until it’s in to the hilt and you grind down against it, finally feeling full.

Simon moved the phone from his ear and spat into his hand one last time, before sloppily fisting his cock. “Hard and deep, sweet girl,” he breathed, swapping the phone over to speaker and laying it next his head on the pillow, close enough he could still hear your noises and control your orgasm.

He breathed again, “I missed you so much, I’d want to be as deep as you can take me, fuck you til you feel all of me.”

You felt faint at the thought. When desperate, Simon fucked into you like he meant to meld the two of you into one. It was something you couldn’t even dream of recreating with silicone, but god the thought drove you insane as you fucked the dildo all the way in, crying out each time it hit your g-spot and brushed at your cervix.

Simon ground his teeth together listening to the noises you made for him. He was gonna devour you when he got home.

“Listen at you,” he said with a small laugh, “I know, it feels good doesn’t it, lovie?”

You can’t answer, so you hum an affirmation. Your breathing shallows out again and he listens intently for the slight hiccup of a noise you make just before your orgasm hit.

“And just before you cum, I’m going to look in your eyes and demand you tell me who is fucking you like this,” he whispered down the line in that baritone that sent chills up your spine. “Tell me, be a good girl.”

Surely you were on fire. You felt like your insides were magma as you keened a high whine, and responded with a gasp, “you, Simon.”

He tsked, clicking his tongue in a way that should not have been hot. “No lovie, say the whole thing. You can cum if you say it.”

You whined one time and breathlessly strung the sentence together, “You’re fucking me this good, daddy.”

“Good girl.” The praise sent your brain into a five alarm fire, a loud moan leaving your mouth as your cunt fluttered and gushed around the silicone, your thighs clamped together and your spine locked into a slow grind.

Simon groaned loudly on the other side and came onto the lower half of his black shirt, the white fluid darkening the fabric. He slowed his stroking, squeezing tighter on each pass until he was satisfied and out of breath.

The phone line held the collective sounds of your labored breathing for a moment.

“I’ll be home in two weeks.” He said softly, a little promise to you. You smiled. “I’ll take a few days off then,” you started, “if this is anything to go by, I’ll need it.”

Simon laughed aloud as his hand went back to the ring on his dog tags, idly tracing the stone before he brought it to his lips. “Take the time off, I have a surprise for you anyway.”

You know what this fandom needs? More phone sex fics. If you have any good recs please leave them on my doorstep like a feral cat bringing me a mouse. Thanks xo

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #plus size reader #ghost x reader #cod fanfic #im insane I wrote this in an evening on my phone #not proofread

372 notes · View notes

sleepyivoryrose · 5 months ago

Text

I forgot completely was I wanted to write. I had a little jumpscare right now. Remind me to never, ever put tags in my posts again. People actually finding this blog scares the living shit outta me.

I mean, I'm doing this sort of for mental health purposes. Having a clear line what you wrote, when you wrote it, and why you wrote it, is much easier (and to be fair, feels less like a chore) than keeping a word document or a bullet journal or smt.

I could post everything privately though, now that I think about it...it's at least worth a consideration.

I guess...it's like screaming into an abyss or something. You like hear yourself echo, but there's always the possibilty that someone might greet back? even though everytime it happens, it scares me...

....

Today I ate too much letter soup. I know, it's for kids. I wanted to do myself a f(l)avor and (s)wallow in nostalgia for a while. Just like with everything though, I put a little bit too much. Same with my plants, I don't let them dry out, most of the time I overwater them. I give too much. Too much of a care, too much of a reaction. Maybe it's not enough though. So people would finally take me seriously. So that my own mom stops gaslighting me and the people who are supposed to help me don't believe a word I say. I guess it comes with the schizofrenic and pacifist territory. People suck sometimes.

But there's also a lot of good in the world. People tell me I should stop with the internet, and maybe they're right. I just had the experience that the nicest, most understanding, most lovable people I met, were on the internet.

Not to say that it's all roses and sunshine. Everytime I open twitter, I get a headache (but my longing for good art is stronger.)

I am fully aware that life isn't a walk in the park. I'm very sensitive though, even though online I seem brashen and temperamental and offline I'm kind of stoic, doesn't mean I'm completely either of those things. I hurt easily, and I have my coping mechanisms to protect myself.

----

I already have enough bad vibes as it is. People are instinctively untrusting of me, and my head feels like a black comedy.

I would love to be a more optimistic and fun person, that's why I go so overboeard with the fangirling sometimes. Also, it's fun!

Offline it just doesn't come naturally to me. My grip on myself there is so strong, that I barely talk or show much emotion. One of my caretakers thought I was autistic, and I would love to check it out, but Germanys medical system is on the border of collapse, so it's hard to find medical care for things that aren't, yknow, fatal.

And it's not like I don't get social cues, I think. On the contrary, I am very observant of the people around me. I just don't react much to it, is all.

So I kind of need a way out of this madness, ykno? And that's where this lovely blog comes in. It gives me a place to vent up my inner thoughts and feelings, even if I can't verbalize them spontaneously.

...

Huh, jolly writing about stuff helped me forget my ear pain. Maybe it's stress induced...? - mumble mumble-

Well, anyways. Right now there is still no honking. On the other hand, the soccer game starts in like, 3 mins.

To end this on a good note, my friend came all happy and excited from a convention. I'm so happy for her. She saw a ton of cosplayers, and bought a lot of stuff. I am really glad she had so much fun.

I don't think, with my actual social anxiety and energy levels, that I would survive a convention, even if it sounds really fun.

---

There's a sweet smell in the air...either my roommate just showered (which would be odd, she normally does that in the morning) or the flower bushes three streets away smell into my room. Or are they roses? It's like a floral, sweet smell...! the heavy, hot air of a lingering thunderstorm seems to have carried it here. Nice.

Anyways, on that poetic word I'm gonna end my monologing for today. Or maybe not...who knows.

Deuces!

0 notes

njadakaufey · 2 years ago

Photo

Happy monday 🌿 I think you know my obsession with Stardew Valley, well, I couldn't resist on buying the guidebook. The book is very detailed, and quite large as you can see, which really shows how much content there is within the game. I started reading it slowly, and it's suitable for someone who is new to the game as well as someone who has been playing for many years. There are a lot of tips that I had eventually forgotten and thanks to this book, I was able to remember them. I haven't read the whole book yet, considering the size, it will take me a while, especially if you have read my last post, you'll know why too. Anyway, I flipped through it to the end and the quality of this book is really amazing. It's a pleasure to read it, and the illustrations make a huge difference. I bought it from @fangamernet for those interested ☺️. 🤎 To shop my desk set up items, you can check my Throne storefront linked in bio �� You can find my notion templates, twitch overlays, wallpapers & digital reading journal on my Ko-fi shop linked in bio ☁️ Cozy gaming partners 🐻 @tinybearsprout 🐙 @lecoindekoko 🐸 @pixel_plant_gamer 🐿️ @clara.crossings 🦊 @evs_gamespot 🐱 @doenutt_geek 🦉 @savscozycorner 🐺 @junimocove 🐝 Check out the beautiful creators I tagged 📩 If you’d like to collaborate with me send me a DM or email me #desksetup #setup #setupdetails #deskdetails #cozyspace #cozydesksetup #setupinspiration #gamingroom #neutraldecor #deskgoals #stardewvalley

#gamer #desk inspiration #aesthetic #pc setup #cozy gamer #cozy games

0 notes

bobohu4eva · 4 years ago

Text

Pink Lace - Chapter 4

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: College AU, stripper AU, fluff, smut, slow burn

Summary: Baekhyun, a philosophy professor with mysterious wealth, got himself completely fucked over a girl who can’t let him into her life.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: sex work, mentions of sexual assault, adult themes/situations, eventual smut

Tag list: @smolbeanmika @leave-me-in-the-summertime @totallynerdstuff @bbhmystar @nana-banana @kimyhappy @thegreatandi @geniusloey @deligxt @baekswifey @bbhyun506 @lovebuginlove @bellamendoza @baekyeonoreo

Masterlist

When you woke up your head was pounding. Reluctantly, you dragged yourself out of bed anyway.

“Hey Mia” you spoke as you knocked on her door “I need a favor.”

She opened the door just enough for you to see her tired form, bedhead and all looking back at you.

“It’s 9am on a Sunday what the hell y/n.” She opened the door the rest of the way and rubbed her eyes. “What is it?”

You felt bad waking her up, but you needed to tell her what had happened. And you needed your car back, which was still parked at the club.

“I’ll explain more on the way, but Baekhyun drove me home from work last night and I need you to take me to my car.”

You saw your roommates eyes widen “He drove you home? Are you insane?”

“Just let me explain everything, I promise it’s not as crazy as it sounds.”

“Okay, let me get dressed though.” She looked at you skeptically, closing the door and meeting you in the living room soon after to get going.

“So he drove you home.” She stated simply, keeping her eyes on the road as she made her way through the streets towards your work.

“I know it sounds bad but he saved my ass last night. I was so nervous about him possibly showing up that I let some assholes get me blackout drunk. When he showed up he took me into a room to sleep it off and drove me home.”

“You got wasted at work? You know how dangerous that is.” She reprimanded you.

“I know, I know. And I usually don’t, but these guys seemed nice and I was so nervous that I just kept taking the shots they bought me. The assholes had me in a VIP room for a while too, from what Baekhyun told me. I can’t remember any of it though, thank god. All I remember is laughing and having a good time and then waking up with my head on his lap.”

“Baekhyun’s lap? How do you know he didn’t just make it all up to seem like some sort of hero?”

“Yeah.. He usually always gets there early, like 7 or 8, and when I woke up it was past midnight. He told me I was asleep for a few hours.”

“So he just sat and watched you sleep that whole time... that’s not weird at all.”

“I told you it’s not like that! If it wasn’t for him I would’ve been all on my own last night. I don’t even wanna think about all the fucked up shit that could’ve happened to me in there if he hadn’t taken me somewhere safe to sleep it off.”

Mia stayed quiet. She knew you were right, Baekhyun had actually helped you.

“I can’t explain it but it’s different with him, he’s not like the other guys there at all.”

“Y/n, do you like him?”

Her question caught you off guard. You didn’t know what to say. Did you like Baekhyun?

“What do you mean?”

“I mean do you like him as more than just a customer.”

“Well...” There was a pause, and you knew she could tell what was going on in your head.

As you were trying to form your thoughts, Mia was already pulling into the parking lot of your work. She parked next to you, but before unlocking the doors she looked over at you.

“You know you can tell me anything. I’m not gonna judge you if you have a crush on your professor, even if I think it’s a really bad idea. You’re my best friend.”

“I don’t know what I feel. He’s always so sweet to me that it’s hard not to like him, even though I know I shouldn’t. I know I’m pushing these feelings down but they’re getting harder and harder to ignore.”

She gave you a sympathetic look and you heard her car doors unlock. “Let’s get home, it’s too early to be thinking about this now anyway.”

You got out and entered your own car, starting it and making your way back towards your shared home. When you got back you started making breakfast for the both of you, as both a thank you and I’m sorry for waking her up so early on a weekend.

The two of you were in the middle of destroying some cinnamon rolls when she caught you off guard again. “Do you have a picture of Baekhyun? This whole time I’ve been imagining him as a smelly neckbeard. He’s cuter than that, right?” She asked you, and you couldn’t help but crack up.

“Yes” you laughed “he’s cute, really cute actually. Definitely the most attractive professor I’ve had in a while. Let me see if I can find something.”

“Ooooo yes I wanna see.”

You logged into your universities website and started searching around, seeing if there were any photos of him there. To your dismay you couldn’t find anything on there, so your next guess was facebook. You typed in his full name, and what popped up was not what you had been expecting.

There were several posts, all fairly old, and all pictures of him with his arm around a beautiful girl. His ex.

Mia saw the change in your face and immediately snatched your phone out of your hand to see for herself.

“What the fuck y/n...” She said as she stared at the phone, eyes wide. “THIS is him? This man right here.” She turned the phone around, pointing at him.

“...Yeah. And I think that’s his ex in the picture too.”

“Fuck the ex y/n this man is fucking beautiful... no wonder you like him. I would too. I’m sure half the girls in your class would love to hop on that.”

You took your phone back, looking intently at the image on the screen.

“She’s pretty.”

“Who? His ex? Of course she is, look at him!” You just kept staring at the picture of the two of them together, feeling how it made your stomach twist up in discomfort. “Damn you do like him if you’re that stressed over one picture with his ex.”

You knew she was just teasing, but she was still right.

“Shut up, I just haven’t seen her before. I knew about her but seeing a picture of them together feels different.”

“Y/n you have the fattest crush on this guy come on just admit it.”

“It’s not a crush! I just think he’s an interesting person, and he’s attractive, and he likes me, soo..”

“So what? Are you gonna try to fuck your professor?”

“MIA” You shouted, and grabbed a pillow to hit her with.

“Come on if I had a professor that hot I would too! And you already know he’s into you too.” She said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively, prompting you to roll your eyes.

“He’s my professor, that’s the problem.” You sighed. “And my customer. Starting anything with him is a bad idea.”

“It’s definitely a bad idea, but it could be really fun.”

“An hour ago you thought I was crazy for letting him drive me home and now you’re telling me I should sleep with my professor just cause he’s hot?!”

“Well I didn’t know what he looked like then! You should’ve at least told me he was cute.”

“You’re so shallow!”

“I’m not shallow! Y/n you need some spice in your life, maybe he could be good for you. And he’s rich.” Her eyes suddenly went wide, before asking you, “What car does he drive?”

“An Audi... we still don’t know if he is though! He’s still just a professor, remember?”

“You should try to find out how he has all this money, what if he’s secretly a mafia boss or something.”

You only rolled your eyes. Sweet, shy little Baekhyun, a mafia boss? It was laughable. He was way too nice.

“If he is rich, I don’t know how. Maybe he’s just a trust fund baby or something.”

“Yeah maybe, but you’re gonna find out! Did he pay you last night?”

That thought hadn’t even crossed your mind, you assumed your money bag was empty when you got home since you hadn’t given any dances but you hadn’t looked inside of it either. “I don’t know... let me check.”

You got up and went to your room, returning with the bag. You sat back down in the living room with Mia and dramatically unzipped it, before holding it upside down and shaking it. Both you and Mia gasped at what fell out. Hundred after hundred fell until your living room couch was decorated with hundred dollar notes.

“What the fuck...” You heard Mia whisper, obviously just as shocked as you.

You gathered the money and counted the bills. Over two thousand dollars had been in that bag. You looked at your friend in disbelief. “He must’ve paid me for every hour I was asleep...”

“Holy shit”

“I have to give it back, this is too much.” You started shoving the money back into the bag, but Mia grabbed your wrist, stopping you.

“Are you crazy? He gave you the money for a reason! You’re basically set for the rest of the semester now.” She was looking you in the eyes intently now, not letting you ignore her.

“No, you don’t understand. I didn’t even give him a dance or anything I was literally just asleep and then cried a lot, he shouldn’t have paid me at all.” You said, shaking your head in disbelief.

“It’s your money and I can’t tell you what to do with it but I’d keep it if I were you. You’ll probably just hurt his feelings trying to give it back.”

“I don’t care. I’m giving it back. Especially if he is just a professor I don’t want him spending any more money on me.”

“It’s up to you...” She looked skeptical. You knew she wanted you to keep the money so she could reap some of the benefits as well, although she would’ve never admitted to it. Deep down you just couldn’t help but worry that Baekhyun couldn’t afford to give you that much. You had to at least try to give it back.

The rest of Sunday went by in a blur of netflix movies and youtube videos. Sundays were your lazy days, a sacred tradition you were dedicated to keep. You knew however that when Monday rolled around, you were going to have to try to give Baekhyun his money back. You weren’t sure what that would look like, but for now the plan was to just corner him after class and tell him he needed it more than you did. Hopefully, he would accept it and that would be the end of it.

Class on Monday was even more confusing than the previous days. You felt like you understood less with each passing class period, not more. The concepts he talked about only got more and more abstract, to the point where you had little clue what was going on at all.

You were anxious about class ending as well, since you were going to have to face him to try to return his money.

Eventually the lecture ended, and today you had to wait for several other students to talk to him first before he could get to you. They all had questions about their essays, the essay you had yet to even start.

You knew Baekhyun saw you waiting and purposefully made you go last, although this time you were grateful.

“Do you need help with you essay too?” He asked once he was done talking to the last student. You shook your head.

You glanced towards the door, making sure the last student was out of the room before before pulling out the stack of cash that had been in your bag Sunday morning. “I can’t accept this.” You said, placing it on his desk.

Baekhyun looked surprised, however he still wasn’t going to make this easy for you.

“Why not?” He asked simply, looking genuinely confused.

“I have plenty of money already, from you. I didn’t even give you a dance or anything and I know you don’t make THAT much as a professor and I just-”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me y/n. Just keep it. I promise I’ll be just fine without it.”

“No. You need it more than I do, I already have enough to keep me going for a while and this was too much, I didn’t even do anything to deserve it.”

“Y/n. Please. Just take it.” The look on his face was tired. You could tell he was telling the truth, he wanted you to have it, but that didn’t stop you from feeling guilty, and you weren’t taking no for an answer.

“You’re a college professor, not some hotshot CEO, I know you don’t have this kind of money Baekhyun. I’m not keeping it.” You said, crossing your arms.

Baekhyun just sighed, scratching the back of his head. He looked annoyed, but also somehow.. sad?

“I told you there’s a lot you don’t know about me. And I’m not taking it back.” He said staring down at the wad of cash. Obviously he wasn’t taking no for an answer either.

“Baekhyun pleaaase” You looked at him again, giving him your best puppy eyes but he wasn’t having it. His face remained stoic, the only visible emotion was a twinge of what looked like sadness.

“Y/n...” He sighed again. “I’m going to my office now. You can come with me, or you can take your money and go home.” He said sternly.

You pouted, but picked the money back up, shoved it back in your pocket, and followed him anyway. Eventually he unlocked the door to what you assumed to be his office and he held the door for you to walk in. He sat down at his desk, and you sat across from him on the other side. As you looked around, you couldn’t help but smile at how Baekhyun the office was. The space was very cozy, filled with little trinkets and lots of books, all of which you were sure would make absolutely no sense to you. Everything felt so much like him. He had pictures of him and his friends sprinkled throughout as well, and the room even smelled like his comforting scent.

You took the wad of cash back out of your pocket and placed it on his desk. He didn’t acknowledge it.

Once both of you were sitting down, an awkward silence filled the air. Baekhyun was sitting right across from you, but instead of the usual intense eye contact you’d grown accustomed to, he was staring solemnly down at his desk.

He was the first one to break the silence.

“My parents died in a freak accident last December.” He said it without looking up at you, eyes still fixated on his desk. “A semi hit them going 20 over. They both died on impact.”

Your stomach lurched. “Baekhyun wh-”

“Between the two of them they had quite a bit of money. I inherited it. I could quit this job if I wanted to. I have more than I even know what to do with, so just keep the money, please.”

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know...” Your voice was barely loud enough for Baekhyun to hear. Finally he looked up and you met his eyes.

“There’s no way you could’ve. I understand why you probably thought what you did but I definitely don’t need it, so keep it.”

“But-”

“If anything” he interrupted “I feel bad I couldn’t give you more. We were up there longer than what I paid you for but that’s all the cash I had on me and I didn’t wanna have to leave you alone to go to the ATM.”

“Baekhyun, I...”

“You can go now, sorry if that was uncomfortable but I wanted to tell you before you insisted on giving the money back.” He said, scooting the cash back towards your end of the desk. His expression was once again blank, making it impossible for you to try to figure out what was going on in his head.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry about your parents.”

Although he had told you you could leave, you found yourself planted in the chair and against your better judgement, you stayed. Maybe it was the cozy feel of the room, or the comforting smell of old books and vanilla, but you didn’t want to leave yet.

“Were you really close with them?”

He smiled at your question, and because you were still sitting in front of him, even though you didn’t have to be.

“Yeah, they were amazing parents. They always supported the things I was passionate about. Lots of parents would get mad at their kid for studying something as useless as philosophy but they always had my back.” He sighed solemnly, the sadness making it’s way onto his face. “You never really learn to appreciate things until they’re taken from you. I should’ve visited them more often, told them I loved them more. Everything I have now is because of them.”

“I’m sure they were really proud of you.”

“Yeah, luckily I was able to make the best out of my degree. Most people who study philosophy aren’t as lucky and end up doing something totally unrelated. I at least get to teach people about something I’m passionate about.”

“Is that why you keep working here even if you don’t need the money?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “ And I know my parents wouldn’t want me to quit just because of the money. It would also get awfully boring to just sit around at home all day and not work anyway. I like having somewhere to go and feel productive.” He paused for a second, eyes meeting yours again. “And if I wasn’t here I wouldn’t get to see you.” His face turned up into a smile with his last sentence.

At first his words made you think he was just trying to find an excuse to hit on you, but his face told a different story. His smile was so gentle and welcoming, it didn’t feel like any kind of sexual advance, just his raw emotions. Emotions that he was willing to show you without any filter. Baekhyun had always been so open with his feelings with you, it made you feel even worse for how hesitant you were about your own.

You couldn’t help the pink tint growing on your cheeks at his statement.

“You’re blushing.” He said, now grinning.

“Shut up.” You tried to hide your face, but with him sitting directly across from you, staring intently there was nothing you could hide.

“You’re lucky I like you enough to let you talk to me like that, any other student would be in trouble.”

“So you admit I get special treatment?” You asked, leaning back in the chair and crossing your arms, one eyebrow raised at him.

Before answering, Baekhyun leaned towards you, resting an elbow on the desk, halving the distance between the two of you. “Sweetheart, I’ve never even spoken to a student outside of campus. Special treatment is an understatement.”

Your face turned an even deeper shade of red at his use of the pet name, which didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“Y/n, do you have a boyfriend?” He asked you as casually as one would ask about the weather. Your eyes widened, not at all expecting him to ask such a thing.

For a moment you just stared at him in disbelief, hoping he’d say something else but his expression remained the same. Eventually you shook your head, but before he could ask you anything more you had your own question for him.

“What happened with your ex?”

Immediately his face fell into a deep frown. You’d caught him off guard again, and this time he didn’t quite know what to say.

“Well...” He said, still pausing to think. “After I got the inheritance from my parents things just changed. All we did was fight about money. She didn’t even seem to care that my parents were dead. She just wanted access to the money. Eventually she realized I wasn’t going to give it to her and she left me.”

“I’m so sorry, that’s awful.”

“But that’s how I got to meet you.” He smiled, taking one of your hands in his. “I’m glad she left me when she did, and Chanyeol talked me into going to the club that night.”

“Baekhyun...” You felt yourself getting scared again. The things he was telling you and the way he held your hand was beginning to feel too intimate, to a point where you were becoming anxious. You felt an unfamiliar sensation blooming in the pit of your stomach.

“I remember when he pitched the idea to me, I called him a dumbass.” He laughed. “I really didn’t wanna go but he dragged me in there.”

“Well I’m glad he did too.” You responded shyly, before you could think twice about your own words.

Now it was Baekhyun's turn to blush. He was already shocked enough that you were willingly staying in his office, hearing you say something that flirty to him sent his mind into chaos.

“Y/n...” He grabbed both of your hands now, looking into your eyes with that familiar intensity. “Do you.. like me? Not as a customer or a professor, but as a man?”

He had been wanting to ask you since Saturday night, but couldn’t find the courage. He knew how terrible of an idea it was to be having this conversation with one of his students, but when it came to you all rational thought seemed to fly out the window. He had stayed up all night torturing himself with the thought. He needed to know.

But you could only stare back wordlessly. Not because you didn’t want to tell him no, but because you couldn’t deny to yourself that you did like him. You just couldn’t get the words out. It was one thing to feel something deep inside your heart. It was another to be able to say it out loud.

Baekhyun quickly noticed your discomfort and withdrew his hands. “You don’t have to answer that, sorry. But you know how I feel about you. I just need to know. Whatever your answer is, whenever you’re ready to tell me, I’ll accept it. If you want me to leave you be, just tell me and we can act like we never knew each other before last Monday.”

But you didn’t want that, not at all. Your feelings for him had only grown and you couldn’t see yourself ever going back to only seeing him as your professor. It was too late for that now that you knew what his arms felt like wrapped around you.

“I know I don’t want that.” You said so quietly, it was almost inaudible. But Baekhyun still heard you.

His eyes widened in surprise, but his smile found its way back into his face as well. “I really hoped you wouldn’t choose that. But whatever you do decide, will be fine by me.”

“Okay.” You spoke, as you got up out of your chair. “I should go. Thank you for explaining everything.”

“Don’t forget this” he said, holding the wad of cash. You sighed, and took it from him, shoving it back in your pocket “and thank you for listening.”

Baekhyun waved you goodbye as you exited his office, shooting you another gorgeous smile that you couldn’t help but return. As you walked back home you felt that same unfamiliar feeling still blooming in your stomach. You tried to ignore it, but it was unmistakable. This is what people were talking about, the feeling of butterflies in your stomach when you talked to someone you liked. You’d felt it before with past flings and crushes, but never as much as now.

And the more you let yourself think about it, the clearer it became to you. You were becoming just as fucked for him as he was for you.

Next Chapter

#baekhyun #exo #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fanfic #exo fanfic #exo fluff #exo smut

262 notes · View notes

alittlesimp · 3 years ago

Text

'so, what the fuck is the circus au?' - a summary of last night's events

"Half of them are clowns anyway" -tumblr user alittlesimp, 2021

so it all started here. i joked about the circus au being tomorrow's brainrot au and people RAN with it.

this is a collab i guess? between quite a few blogs, i'll tag everyone i can find at the end of this post :) to be fair, most of the ideas came from jade so she's responsible for this hell too.

if you want to see the posts in the flesh, check the hashtag 'bsd circus au' and the additions in the notes of those posts!

want to add something? why. but yeah, you can. leave a comment or send me an ask and ill add it to this post and tag you in it :) but feel free to play around with this au yourself!

ill sort the ideas per character for clarity :) it's mostly copy-pasted because holy shit we went far with this 😭 but i also added some extra stuff :)

The Akutagawas

· Trapeze anon, thank you for your service

· This is a wholesome au where instead of joining a violent organization, they join the circus.

· They are trapeze artists!

· When they were in training, Rashoumon helped them keep safe when they fell

· Maybe Aku first discovered his ability when he or Gin almost made a life-threatening fall

· Rashoumon could also help with trapeze tricks!

Atsushi

· They bought him as a tiger but quickly discovered he was a person instead

· He jumps through flaming hoops in his tiger form and although he was super scared at first, he quickly got used to it

· Because he's friendly and, you know, actually a person, children are allowed to pet him during the break and after the show!

Chuuya

· We were divided on his actual job

· Options include:

· Aerialist because of his ability

· Contortionist because he is flexible

· Motorbike rider in globe of death because... motorbikes

· But you know what? Fuck it. He does everything.

· He's probably one of the most popular members of the circus!

Dazai

· Animal tamer!

· Shrimp remarked he would look really good in the outfit and you know what? Circus Dazai could get it.

· Constantly jokes about being eaten during training (which kind of offends Atsushi) / being fed to the animals if the circus doesn't make enough money

· His job interview went like this:

· "You do realize this is dangerous? You could die."

· "I COULD DIE?? 🥰"

· Has multiple scars, he says they're from training animals, but he is suspiciously quiet about his past...

· Anyway he is hot. That is the post.

Fukuzawa and Mori

· They have a whole fake rivalry going on

· Every show they have an epic swordfight which is one of the most exciting parts of the evening!

· They were probably circus veterans who decided to start their own show

· There are rumors they hate each other for real

· But they're actually best friends and go out for drinks together (sometimes with the other artists too) after a successful show!

Kajii

· Circus announcy ma- I mean ringleader.

· He has the personality for it!

· Dramatically blows himself up in the middle of the show, only to reappear in one piece at the end of it

· Traumatizing children in the process

· He hands out little lemon-shaped candies to kids at the end of the show

Kenji

· He is the dude who lifts a bench with 30 people on it

· But he is secretly obsessed with the animals

· Spends most of his time where they are kept

· I'm sure Dazai loves teaching him about them :)

Kunikida

· Sells balloons and tells kids stories

· I think he'd be in charge of the financial stuff too

· Sells tickets at the door and makes sure the circus is advertised well

· Most likely also their spokesperson!

Kyouka (and a bit of Kouyou)

· I don't think we had anything for her, but I imagine she'd be a knife thrower

· Or maybe like tricks?

· Demon Snow could help her with this!

· Maybe Kouyou was her mentor before retiring

· Kouyou is now more on the business side of things but sometimes still helps with making new routines for Kyouka

Mark

· Clown? No. Gun tricks.

· Would probably start his act by shooting a target on the stage from a hidden spot, scaring the shit out of everyone

Ranpo

· Fortune teller!

· But he's kind of mean about it 😭

The Tanizakis

· Tanizaki is an illusionist and Naomi is his assistant

· They have seemingly impossible tricks but it's actually just his ability!

Yosano

· Cuts people in half

· But like, for real.

· She heals them right after though 😭

*manga spoilers from here*

Nikolai

· Despite being dressed like a ringleader, he'd 100% be a clown

· But like the type that imitates the magicians lmfaoo

· Instead of releasing white doves or rabbits he picks up random pigeons from the street with his ability and releases them in the arena 😭

· Has gotten bitten by birds more times than he'd like to admit

Sigma

· Manager of the circus

· He's in charge of making sure every customer is enjoying the show

· Known for being one of the kindest people in the circus

Tachihara

· Also a knife thrower because of his ability

· But more badass-themed than Kyouka, who has a more cute-but-deadly theme

again, most of this was by jade so all the credit to her for this mess!

tagging everyone involved in this (including those who encouraged this mess): @jadegreenimmortality @requiem626k @bsdparadise @sugurus-princess @nameless-shrimp @bakugousbreathmint @cottonwoolwounds + trapeze anon (if i forgot anyone let me know!)

62 notes · View notes

jokertrap-ran · 3 years ago

Photo

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Osborn’s 5✩ Inspiration: Black VS Black [黑色对峙] Date Translation (Prologue)

“Cat food, cat toys; everything was all set and ready… except for a cat.”

*Light and Night Master-list | Osborn’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *This 5✩ Inspiration has 6 Endings!! *Osborn’s tag will be #For Night, For Freedom *Requested by anon! You can check my on-going requests and more here!

It was only when I stood before Osborn's door that I realized the startling fact: this was the first time I'd ever been to his place.

A few days ago, Osborn's neighbour entrusted their cat to him because they were going to be gone on a business trip. And shortly after that had happened, I'd received Osborn's obligatory cat-lover "Invitation".

And thus, that was how I now found myself before his door, with the glee of having received his invitation swiftly being replaced by nerves.

I hesitated, pulling our previous chat back up on my phone to double-check the address.

It was then that the door opened with a click.

Osborn: Oh? Already here?

A familiar voice sounded, making me abruptly raise my head.

Osborn was leaning sideways against the door, staring at me with an impish glint in his eyes.

MC: I just got here and I was just gonna check if this was the right place.

Osborn: Check?

Osborn: My bad. Looks like I'm going to have to remember which door it is next time.

MC: No need, no need. I can tell which door's yours now!

Osborn: Then, come in?

I quickly nodded and followed him in.

❖☆———————————★❖

All Osborn had on was a simple black singlet and a pair of casual sweatpants.

I'd rarely seen him in such a casual state of dress, so I couldn't stop my lingering eyes as I drank the sight of him in.

Osborn: Want something to drink?

MC: Nope, no need!

Osborn paused for a while after hearing my reply, but he continued pouring the water into the glass.

When the glass was filled, he turned around and leaned closer to me with a mischievous smile.

Osborn: You seem nervous today.

I felt my face burn. I swallowed my saliva and attempted to still my racing heart.

MC: Only because this is my first time in your house, and everything feels so foreign...

I averted my gaze, purposefully trying to look relaxed and at ease as I surveyed his home.

The living room wasn’t overly decorated and it was painted in a simple, minimalistic, colour. It was overall simple and refreshing. That being said, there didn’t seem to be a trace of there being a cat here at all.

MC: Right. Where's the cat?

Osborn handed me the glass of water before lazily sweeping his gaze across the living room.

Osborn: Mitt? Mitt!

MC: Mitt? ...Is that its name?

Osborn: Yeah. Its owner calls it Mitchell, but that’s a bit of a mouthful, so I just call it Mitt. It seems to understand me when I do, anyway.

MC: That's… Well, okay then…

Osborn: It was still slinking around here earlier. Might have run off into a corner somewhere.

His gaze snapped back to me. He suddenly raised a brow, gesturing at the backpack I was carrying.

Osborn: Just what did you stuff into that bag of yours to make it so bulky?

Osborn: And you've been carrying it this entire while too. Isn't it heavy?

Upon his mentioning of the backpack, I then recalled with a start about the “business” I was here for today.

I quickly placed the backpack onto the sofa, taking out the many cat necessities I’d packed in, enthusiastically showing them all to him.

MC: Look! This is a cat food bowl that I especially picked out! It looks like the gigantic face of a cat. Isn’t it cute?

MC: I also bought two flavours of cat food since I didn’t know which one it’d like. I’ve got salmon flavour and chicken flavour here.

MC: Oh, and this! I thought it might like it!

I picked up the cat teaser wand and shook it, ringing the silver bell attached to it and releasing a crisp sound into the air.

Suddenly, a small black head poked out from the kitchen door. Its eyes were wide and round as it stared curiously at the wand in my hand.

MC: Look, Osborn! It came!

Osborn: Looks like it really does like this one.

Then, it averted its gaze from the wand, giving us both a glance.

However, it disappeared from our sight as quickly as lightning before we barely had the chance to blink twice.

MC: ...Eh? And you're gonna leave just like that?

I shook the cat teaser wand again, but it never once reappeared.

Osborn looked at the items laid out on the table, frowning slightly, his expression tinged with a faint hint of confusion.

He picked up a small cat post.

Osborn: And what's this supposed to be?

MC: It’s a small cat post! It can be used to satisfy a cat’s natural innate tendency to want to climb everything and anything they see.

MC: It can also prevent them from messing the house up from all the climbing up and down they’re inclined to do.

Osborn: Oh. This one's well-suited for it.

MC: Haha, is it that playful?

Osborn: Hmm. Well, the owner said that their house was always in constant chaos thanks to it. They also said that their cat would normally be a little more obedient when it is in a new environment.

Osborn hesitated for a moment as doubt and a bit of helplessness slipped into his voice.

Osborn: But maybe my place isn't exactly new to it. Obedient, huh… Don't really see that happening.

MC: That bad? Maybe it wouldn’t attempt to demolish the house with all it's jumping around with all these toys here now?

MC: I even prepared yarn balls and stuff!

Osborn: A new boss is in office, and this one seems terribly well prepared.

MC: Of course I am! As soon as I heard that you were going to be temporarily housing a cat, I immediately went to place some orders online.

Osborn: You were looking forward to it THAT much?

Osborn: Looks like I'm gonna have to have it over as a guest more often.

My face flushed a slight red as I shoved the cat food bowl into his arms.

MC: No slacking! We're setting these all up together!

Osborn froze for a bit before taking the cat's food bowl from me.

Osborn: No problemo. I'm at your service.

MC: Ahem. Then, where would it be better for us to place all of these?

Osborn looked at the area for a while before slightly raising his chin and gesturing in the direction of the kitchen.

Osborn: The kitchen's entrance, I guess. It's almost always hanging out there.

After determining how and where we were going to set the whole ensemble up, we immediately got down to work.

Osborn casually opened a bag of cat food, pouring it into the cat food bowl I was holding. Following that, I tore off the plastic wrapping that covered the scratching posts, putting the simple cat post together with Osborn.

Cat food, cat toys; everything was all set and ready… except for a cat.

I looked all over, but I saw neither hide nor hair of it.

I attempted to call it out by calling it by its name of “Mitt”. Osborn had also attempted to shake the cat teasing wand in an attempt to lure it out, but we didn’t see even so much as a whisker of it.

Osborn: It’s usually ready to jump at anything and everything, but now it’s shy?

MC: Looks like it went into hiding. How about we split up and look for it?

Osborn: Okay. I’ll take the rooms on the north and you can take those on the south.

MC: Okay!

I searched for a good long while, but it wasn’t in either the kitchen or the study.

I was just about to go over to Osborn to ask about how his search was going when I suddenly noticed a small room right next to the study.

The door was also cracked slightly open.

MC: Huh. Did it go inside here?

❖☆———————————★❖

I gently pushed the door open and walked in. I was instantly greeted by display shelves that spanned the entire wall the moment I walked in.

Inside the many display shelves were racing trophies of all shapes and sizes. There were also photos of Osborn and his teammates, along with several race car models that were modelled after their real-life counterparts.

MC: Is this Osborn's collection room?

I couldn’t help but stop short. I suddenly caught sight of a black shadow seated atop a shelf.

MC: ...Mitt!

It was just about to get a paw on a red and white racing car model inside the shelf.

Probably having noticed the movement on my end, it tilted its head to look at me, its paw suspended in mid-air.

MC: What… What is it trying to do? Don't tell me...

I gasped in surprise, subconsciously holding my breath in nervousness.

We’d interlocked gazes for only a second before its ever-vigilant amber eyes flashed.

It lightly and resolutely batted its paw at the model it’d set its eyes on immediately after.

MC: AH!!

I subconsciously lunged at it, but all I caught was thin air.

The car model fell to the ground with a clatter, shattering into its many compartments with its wheels spinning in the air from the impact.

Upon seeing the result of its actions, Mitt quickly fled from the scene of the “crime” with a satisfied little meow.

MC: Wait!

I didn’t manage to stop it in time at all. It all happened in a split second, and now I was the only one left in the room with the overturned car model.

What am I to do now?

The cat caused an incident! What should I do?

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

✥ Choose your Ending:

END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]

END 2 +3 + 4 | Choice: Call Out [呼唤] ⊹Speak⊹

END 5 | Choice: Listen [倾听] ❖ASMR

END 6 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ★Night★

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Freedom⊹ —————★❖

#光与夜之恋 #Light and Night #Otome #Translations #Tencent #萧逸 #Osborn #For Night For Freedom #黑色对峙 #Black VS Black

26 notes · View notes

mcrmadness · 3 years ago

Text

I'm pretty sure I have denied Facebook and Instagram from spying me through my phone, and I'm pretty sure they are still spying me through my phone regardless.

And yeah I know I started this post in a weird way but at least here in Europe/EU area, EU is VERY strict about the privacy of its people, which is why we get these long allow/deny cookies things on every website we haven't visited before. This mainly affects the personalized ads, aka when you deny that information from websites and apps, they cannot show targeted ads -> ads are often nonsensical and have nothing to do with you.

However this doesn't seem to be the case with IG and FB at all. I don't use the latter much and on PC I use adblockers anyway; but I use Instagram a bit more often and this is what I mean by IG and FB spying on my through my phone. I pretty much get personalized ads on Instagram despite setting off all the settings about personalized ads. And it's not coincidental that I so often get ads about thinks I have TALKED ABOUT to people IRL, out loud, not typed on phone and not talked over the phone. Just talked about something to someone in the same ROOM while my phone was in the same room too.

I am getting so many cooking related recommended posts today. And in between those there are ads about how to lose fat (targeted at women). I fucking talked about an OMELET to my mom two days ago and now I get omelet videos on IG??????? And I have never browsed anything food related on IG, ever in my life. And now it's suddenly full of some 5-Minute-Hack type recipes. Both in English and German for some reason.

Then something I have mentioned on Tumblr a few times, this is actually written stuff but I have mentioned the washing detergent Omo in some tags (cos I thought the name meant 'homo' when I was a kid and I was so confused). I'm getting OMO ads now.

Anyhow, my favorite "coincidence" like this was when I still haven't denied the cookies on some website a few years ago, and I was visiting my parents. My mom was just counting out loud what she needs to buy, and mentioned mustard. A few days later I got mustard ads in my phone. I don't even really use mustard myself, I haven't bought it myself probably ever and there's no reason why would I have written it down or googled it anywhere. My phone mic definitely just picked up the words from my mom's speech.

I'm also suspecting that it might be Google behind this all, because I bought this new phone last autumn and this is very heavily Google driven. It comes with Google Assistant and whatever shit and even tho I have also checked my Google account's privacy settings, I am not sure how much I can still affect the stuff my phone literally hears because of Google, and how much of that my phone is using for generating better targeted ads on apps even if the apps ask for permission of personalized ads (and which I always deny).

#mcrmadness' random stuff

6 notes · View notes

jehovahhthickness · 3 years ago

Note

I guess I just wanna know what you would have done better in my situation. So my girlfriend wanted to stop by her sisters, sis A, for a drink and drop off some bottle of rose for her since she'd been feeling down. Cool Im down. She's got her other sister, sis B, on her way when we get there, sis B shows up with a friend and I find them both to be kinda rude since they lowkey insult the bottle of rose we brought saying its too sweet after nearly killing it all even though we bought it for sis A. Whatever I keep my mouth shut. They're talking about going out to some super packed and loud outdoor club, figure me and gf will bounce before. But when we all step outside they're all immediately around my car assuming I will be their DD tonight since I am my gfs dd. Gf asks me, only one to do so, if I'll just drop them off at the club maybe have one drink w them and we go. Ok whatever it's her family. At the club it of course takes near an hour to get one drink. In that time sis A and gf are talking deeply and I let them be while sis B meets some random dude in the line and they kinda go off to make out while her friend sits next to me snapping pics complaining some dude is getting mad at her for all the pics shes posting cause Im in the background and he thinks Im her new dude. I tell her simply stop taking pics of me in the back I wasnt aware I was in the frame and would rather not be. She stops talking to me which fine. Gf and I are ready to go, already the night is later than we planned for, so we explain that. They start making plans about where to go next, I ask if theyre gonna uber or need help with one, they ask my gf if I can drop them off downtown. Fuuuuck it. By the time I pull my car around, and they get in, sis b has random dude both drunk af tagging behind and man just jumps himself in my back seat without a word. That was the last straw for me. I hate being treated like a luxury uber. Sis b was already so wasted somehow she was literally pissing herself in my backseat. Her new boy didnt even tall to me, and ultimately four don't fit in my backseat safely anyway. So i tell her to get out, that I don't know him, Im not his uber, go away. So he does but immediately their whole vibe changed. Sis b looked like she wanted to cry. I apologize if I was loud but drive them downtown, oh wait nope her friend changes her mind they need to go to some club a little uptown for cause her cousin is there. What the fuck ever. Go near the club and at a stop all 3 in the back just say thanks for the ride they're getting off here and the fucking friend throws a goddamn 5 bill at me like Im a fucking taxi shes stiffing in philly. Fucking annoyed now but just wanna go home. Gf was more upset at sis B and her friend and so was I considering she peed in my back seat and wiped herself off with my beanie back there but fuck it drunk messy girls gonna be messy. But a month later it seems shes upset with me. A lot went wrong it seems that night, curious what youd have done differently in a similar situation.

You really should’ve put your foot down and told her sisters to go fuck themselves because they don’t respect you or your property.

Your girlfriend also should’ve spoke up and checked her sister!

If you rock with them like that, I’m sure the situation would’ve gone differently but for them to volunteer you to drive them around without you being okay with it is not right.

20 notes · View notes

vintagedolan · 4 years ago

Text

lucid locations (gbd)

while one full year of wakeheart and an impending candle launch are definitely moments to celebrate, you might just have another plan for the ceo’s attention

word count: 7.5k

warnings/tags: ceo!grayson, lots of smut, 🥵 is all im sayin

feel free to send in requests! and check out my masterlist if you wanna :)

Between construction at the house, the warm California summer and an inviting pool right in the backyard, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d had on more than a bikini top, running shorts and one of Grayson’s shirts. He was the same - mostly running around shirtless in his shorter shorts, maybe throwing on a tank top if he was building. When you’d packed up to take haven from the construction dust and noise, headed for a rental house in Malibu, you’d had to convince him he needed to pack more than his new speedos.

Needless to say, getting cleaned up and ready for a black tie event was quite the shift from your usual day to day. The makeup you were swiping on felt almost foreign, especially the lipstick. But the hand that made it’s way onto your bare back was all too familiar. You relaxed into it, smiling at Grayson in the mirror.

“God damn.”

“Stop it,” you rolled your eyes, closing them when he leaned over to press a kiss to your shoulder.

“You look so good,” he hummed. “But can you look good 6 inches to the right? I gotta clean up my beard.” Your eyes went wide, lip jutting out as you moved over, opening up the spot in front of the sink.

“Don’t shave it.” You blurted, making him laugh.

“Don’t worry baby, I’m just cleaning up the edges. The scruff stays.”

“Good, it makes you look very... ceo-ey,” you grinned, reaching over to run a finger over his jaw, feeling the coarse hair there that you loved so much.

“What, I don’t look ceo-ey with a baby face? Not even in this fit?” He gestured down to himself in his speedo, striking a bit of a pose.

“King of business. Steve Jobs is quaking. The bulge really sells the whole look,” you teased, scrunching up your nose. He belly laughed at that, a hand moving to his chest as if to brace himself until he moved forward to you, spinning you around a bit so he could press his nose to yours.

“Can’t blame me when you insist on getting ready in a bra and tiny shorts,” he mumbled with a grin, fingers ghosting up your bare sides as if to reiterate his point.

“I’m enjoying the ethan-has-his-own-bathroom perks of this house, sue me.” His lips brushed against yours just barely as you spoke, so light that it almost tickled.

“I’m enjoying it too.” He pressed a kiss to your lips gently, a small one.

“Don’t smear my lipstick bub,” you cautioned nicely, wrapping your arms around his neck. He sighed at that, eye meeting yours and just looking. It was the type of gaze that made your cheeks as warm as your core.

“Bring more so you can fix it later. You’re very kissable right now.”

“And you’re very sappy,” you mused. He always got sentimental on big occasions, excited to make new memories. “And kissable.” You gave in, giving him a quick one, ignoring his attempt to deepen it. “We gotta get ready or we’re gonna be late to your own event.”

“The CEOs have to be a little late, I think it’s customary,” he tried, but you just shook your head, covering his lips with your hand.

“Shave, I gotta do my hair anyways. And I’m probably gonna need your help with my dress.”

That was enough motivation for him to get on with getting ready. You’d been sneaky, not shown him the dress you’d picked out for the evening. It was your first black tie event that you’d gone to ever, and definitely the first one with him at your side. You wanted to look good next to him, look good in the pictures you knew were going to be taken that he was no doubt going to post and probably print out to add to his photo collection too. It had butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you did your hair the way you liked, keeping it simple and making sure it framed your face.

It took you a little while, and you smiled when Gray wandered back into the bathroom in his suit, bowtie hanging loosely around his neck just as you finished. You let out a low dramatic whistle, breaking it off into a laugh when his cheeks turned your favorite shade of pink.

“Help.” He walked over to you, lifting his chin up so you could better access his bowtie. You went to tie it immediately - you’d taught yourself last week when he decided to wear one. It made you smile as you recalled the two of you sitting on his bed, him shirtless with just the bowtie around his neck while you practiced, the spitting image of a male stripper from a bachelorette party. You’d been laughing so hard that it took you a ridiculous amount of times to get it. Luckily now you got it on your first try, proud of yourself as you straightened it out.

“Is it dress time?” His eyes flashed a bit when you nodded in response, heading for the closet where your garment bag was waiting. You pulled it out, having to hold your arm up high so that it didn’t pool on the floor as you moved it to the bed.

Grayson rubbed his hands together in anticipation before he balled them into fists, the full embodiment of a kid on christmas, but in a 6 foot body.

“You look like you’re gonna combust baby, chill,” you teased, shaking your head as you slipped your shorts off. You felt his eyes on your thong, the smallest one you owned. You still weren’t sure it would work - only one way to find out.

You reached behind yourself and unclipped your bra, letting it fall to the floor before you leaned down to scoop everything up and toss it the laundry.

“I like where this is going.” His voice had dropped a bit, eyes taking you in from head to toe.

“Oh yeah? Well, get excited,” you teased, reaching into the Target bag on the floor to pull out a few nipple pasties. “These bad boys are coming along for the ride.” You wiggled them around dramatically in the air before you turned to the mirror to put them in place. Grayson watched, entirely unfazed.

“Okay, go stand in the bathroom for a minute,” you instructed, pointing to the door. He balked, eyes going wide.

“What? Why!?”

“Cause, you seeing me wiggle into this thing will ruin the allure. And I like surprises.”

“But I wanna see,” he pouted, giving you the best puppy dog eyes he could muster. You weren’t sure how a 6ft man in a tuxedo could look so soft, but he pulled it off.

“You will see, in like two seconds,” you teased, pushing gently on his chest as he walked backwards towards the bathroom door. He was still pouting when you closed it.

Taking a deep breath you went back over to the garment bag, pulling the zipper of it down to reveal the fabric you hadn’t seen in a while. Just laying there it looked almost innocent... almost. But when you put it on? You’d never felt like such a bad bitch - even in the fittings you’d felt powerful, sexy.

“Do you have it on yet?” Grayson’s voice was impatient, a bit distorted. He was biting his fingernails, you could tell.

“No, just gimme a minute,” you laughed, coaxing the dress off the hanger and carefully stepping into it. The fabric was silky but dense, with enough structure to give your body shape and enough flow for it to be flattering. It was a deep purple that reflected in a way that made it almost blue when it caught the light. The cleavage was there, but subtle, and that subtly was made up for with an open back. The material pooled right over the curve of your ass, leaving almost your entire back exposed, held up by the tiny straps over your shoulders.

But once you had it on, you remembered your favorite part, the main reason you’d bought it besides the color.

The slit.

It was high. So high that it was borderline inappropriate, but still just classy enough. It tapered up at your hip, leaving your entire left leg open to the air. And as you’d feared, the lace line of your thong was visible.

“Let me see,” Grayson whined from behind the door. You knew if you didn’t give in he was going to come out anyways.

“Alright alright, come in!” You called to him. He wasted no time in getting the door open as you stayed where you were in front of the mirror, trying to figure out what to do about the underwear situation.

“Holy. Fuck.”

That caught your attention, and you turned to see his face. He was smiling, but his mouth was wide open, jaw slack as he looked you up and down. You expected him to get it together after a few moments, but he just stood there, awestruck, eyes never leaving you.

And then, to top it off, he finally took in a raspy breath, coughing a little. You opened your mouth to say something, but he held up a finger and moved towards the bed, rummaging around by the bedside table.

It was a sight you always wanted to remember - him, puffing on his bright red inhaler while standing there in a tux.

“Wow, that good huh?” You couldn’t help the ego boost that it gave you to see him so undone just from looking at you.

“You got room for this in your bag? Might need it later with you lookin’ like that.”

You rolled your eyes a bit, but you held your hand out anyways, taking it from him and sitting it down next to your bag. The fabric tape you’d bought peeked out at you and you pulled it out with a sigh. It wasn’t the most comfortable looking stuff, but you didn’t have much of an option.

You moved back in front of the mirror, reaching up to your thong and hooking a finger through it and pulling it down.

“What’re you doing?” His mouth sounded dry as he spoke.

“It was showing. Can’t wear any with a slit this high.”

“You’re actually trying to kill me.” He watched you step out of them with hooded eyes, which turned to confusion when he watched you open the packaging on the tape. “What’s that?”

“Fabric tape. Keeps everything where it needs to be, ya know?”

“You can’t just wear the dress?”

“Do you want the entire Wakeheart team to see my vagina tonight?” You laughed, quirking an eyebrow at him in the mirror. He scrunched his nose at that idea, staying quiet while you got everything arranged and taped.

“Okay, tell me if you can see anything.” You spun around slowly, trying out a few different angles with your leg that you might do during a photo.

“You’re good. I fuckin’ love that dress, it looks perfect on you.”

“Thank you baby. You look pretty fuckin’ hot yourself.” You fixed the collar of his shirt with a smile. He brought his wrist up, checking his watch - his green rolex, of course.

“Ah shit, we gotta go or we really are gonna be late.”

You just nodded, moving to the box with your new black heels and pulling them out. Grayson held his hand out for them and you handed them over, blushing when as you watched him crouch down and reach for your foot.

“I can do that you know.”

“I know.” He grinned up at you before he looked back down and guided your foot in, his big fingers giving him a few problems when he got to the tiny clasps on the straps. “These are stupidly tiny.”

“I can get em,” you offered again, but he just waved you off, sticking out his tongue as he focused and finally got the buckle to thread through. The left shoe went easier, even though you had to hold onto his shoulder while you balanced on your right.

He stood up when his work was done, eyes flashing wide when he looked at you.

“You’re so tall now. That’ll be nice for my back.” The question must have been clear on your face, because he answered it. “Don’t have to bend down to kiss you.”

“Shut up and put your shoes on,” you laughed, kissing him quickly before moving to check yourself in the mirror one last time - even you had to admit, you looked damn good. Grayson got his Louis shoes on quickly, tying them and coming beside you, phone in hand. He pulled you against him so you both fit in the mirror, posing like you were on a red carpet just for his phone.

“Turn around.” His voice was gruff, and when you did as you were told you knew why. You couldn’t help it - he took the first picture of just you looking up at him, your back on display. But by the time he snapped the next one, you snaked your hand down, white nails bright against his black pants as you cupped him over the fabric, his bulge already growing.

“Don’t.”

He snapped the picture anyways.

“You sure?” You didn’t have to lean too far to get close to his ear now that you had on heels, and he rolled his neck as he sucked in a breath. His eyes flashed to yours, desperate and angry and wanting all at once.

His hand fell over yours, pulling you off of him by your wrist. “Later.”

“Promise?” It rolled off your tongue as you looked up at him through your lashes.

“Jesus,” he groaned, the effort he was using to stay put together obvious. He pressed a kiss to your knuckles before he let go. “Yeah, fuckin’ promise.”

He saved the last picture under my eyes only and put his phone away, taking your hand as you grabbed your bag and followed him out of the room.

------

“Does my hair still look okay?” You turned to Grayson, a bit nervous that you’d undone all your hard work.

With gentle fingers he fixed a few strays that had come loose. You should have known that they were going to play Cudi the whole way to the venue - it was a Dolan celebration after all. The boys always got hype, and you couldn’t help but join in, dancing along and singing at the top of your lungs. For your mood? Wonderful. But for your look? Maybe not so much.

“You look perfect.”

“Promise?” You quirked an eyebrow, knowing exactly what you were doing and loving every minute of it.

He sat back down in his seat further, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath through his nose. Ethan noticed from the front seat, watching for a moment and then deciding he should probably mind his own business.

Grayson’s eyes were serious when he turned to you, leaning over so no one else heard your conversation.

“We have photos in like 5 minutes. I’m begging you. Behave.”

You pondered it for a minute - how many times had he fucked you up, got you turned on in public when there was nothing you could do about it? But there was a sincerity in his eyes and his voice that you couldn’t ignore.

Did you like being told what to do? No. But for Grayson? You’d do just about anything.

“Fine,” you conceded with a grin, leaning over to give him a quick kiss. “But only cause I want you to be able to post the pictures without your dick showing.”

“How considerate of you,” he rolled his eyes, but it was light hearted. He laced his fingers with yours, thumb running over your skin as his excitement mounted every minute closer you got the venue. You watched out the window as the fancy buildings started to emerge, signaling that you were getting close. Malibu had a more relaxed yet somehow more exclusive vibe than LA, and it had your heart racing.

“You’re gonna be fine, it’s just cameras.” He had somehow sensed your nerves, putting his own aside as he tried to comfort you instead.

“You’ve done this before, of course it’s not scary for you.”

“True. But I’m gonna be with you the whole time, which means you have nothing to worry about,” he countered, almost asking you to challenge him on it. You just nodded, picking up your purse from the floorboard.

“When we get out can you stand in front of me? I don’t wanna accidentally flash anybody.”

“Of course baby. I thought thats what the tape was for though,” he mused.

“Better safe than sorry.”

“We’re here, you guys ready?” Ethan turned from his spot in the passenger seat, excitement written all over his face. He reached back, hand extended to his brother, his partner in all this. You watch them do the handshake they could do in their sleep, a silent communication of excitement and support.

And then, it was time for the show to really begin. It was a bit of a blur after that, mixtures of adrenaline and nerves. Grayson opened your door, standing tall and broad as you stood up, got your footing and adjusted your dress to make sure all was covered. And then he offered you his arm, prideful grin on his face as he showed you off.

It was a blur after that. You vaguely remembered pausing in front of the backdrop, a simple white with the Wakeheart logo scattered across it. You took a few serious pictures, giving your best sultry look, but mostly you just smiled, so proud of your man for all he worked so hard for.

At one point he stepped back from you, gesturing towards you proudly. It took you a minute to register that the photographers were calling out for you to pose, just you by yourself. You did your best, posing and looking where you were called.

You only relaxed when Grayson reattached to your side, leading you down the rest of the carpet that stretched up to the venue. You posed for a few with both him and E just for fun, the three of you goofing off and just being yourselves before you made it to the end, the doors open to reveal the inside of the venue.

“They want some of just E and I, do you wanna wait out here or do you wanna go sit down?”

“I’ll go sit, save my feet. Have fun!” You kissed him quickly, vaguely aware that a few cameras flashed. You reached up and wiped a tiny bit of lipstick off his lip before letting him go, watching him head back over to his brother.

You weren’t alone for long - you’d barely made it into the room before Sterling saw you, lighting up and running over to you. She was in a floor length green number, the sparkles on it catching the light from outside.

“Ster! You look amazing!”

“Says you! Holy shit! You rode in with the boys right?” You nodded, starting to look around. “Do you think they’re gonna like everything?”

“Oh they’re gonna love it, for sure.”

The room was dim, colorful lights all around giving just enough brightness to make it functional without ruining the vibe. It only took you a second to realize that each light was specific; purple, blue and a light orange, just like the Enterlight collection. There were little Wakeheart touches everywhere, from the little mini fragrances on the tables to the logo printed on the name cards at the tables.

“Your all’s table is at the front I think,” Sterling offered, pointing up by the stage. “I gotta go find Daniel, I’ll find you later!” She disappeared to find her boyfriend and you headed in the general direction of the front, weaving through some of the tables.

“Y/N!”

You turned, lighting up as you realized the call had come from Deon who was beelining for you, the biggest smile on his face.

“De!” was all you could get out before he had you wrapped up in a hug, almost lifting you off the ground. It had been too long since you’d seen him, too long since he’d come by to hang out after the first few times that you’d hit it off.

“You look hot as hell girl, damn!” He praised, and you blushed so deep that you were sure he could see it, even in those lights.

“Did Kai get to come?”

“Yeah, he’s getting us drinks, wanna meet him?”

“Of course! Gotta see what all the hype is about,” you nudged his shoulder, taking his hand as he lead you over to the bar.

Kai was taller than you’d pictured him when Deon had described his boyfriend, but he was beautiful enough for all De’s constant gushing about him to make sense. The introductions went well, and you almost forgot where you were until someone cleared their throat.

“You guys gonna get drinks or what?” The bartender that spoke was a burly guy, too much muscle, and probably too old to be happy as a bartender if his tone and glare said anything about him.

“Oh right, sorry! Just uh, two mules for us. Y/N?” Deon looked at you expectantly.

“A mojito for me please,” you kept up the niceties, trying to stay pleasant. Maybe he was just having a bad night.

“I hate making those.”

Niceties? Gone.

“Well then I guess it’s a good thing you’re getting paid.”

“Suppose so,” he grumbled, passing over the two mules to Deon and Kai. They took the gratefully, giving you a little wave before they headed off, so caught up in each other that they didn’t even register the conversation. You stood up a bit taller now that you were by yourself, practically daring him to try something.

“You here by yourself?”

“No.”

“Don’t see anybody with you.”

“So observant.” You let the annoyance seep into your tone, but you were right in assuming that he was the type of guy who didn’t give a fuck if the women around him were uncomfortable.

“Where’s your man then? Not a smart one if he’s gonna let you walk around here wearing that by yourself.” The way his eyes raked up and down your form didn’t sit well with you.

“He’s a bit... occupied. And considering I’m the reason there’s a bar here in the first place tonight, I suggest you watch your mouth and make the drinks before the CEO changes his mind.”

“What she said.”

You’d know that voice and the hand that slid dangerously low across your back anywhere. Apparently, the event planners must have shown the workers who the whole party was for, because the man behind the bar changed his tune immediately.

“Mr. Dolan,” he greeted, so serious that is almost made you laugh. “Can I get you anything sir?”

“You can get my girl what she asked for, and you can watch your mouth. That’ll be all.”

You weren’t sure how a guy the size of the bartender could look sheepish, but he managed it as he handed over your mojito.

“Thanks! Have a great night!” You hoped your insincerity was blatant enough as you took your drink and waved back to him, letting Grayson’s hand guide you as you turned around.

“Hi baby, how were the rest of your pictures?” You asked as you walked to the table, chasing your straw with your tongue for a moment before taking a sip.

Grayson just shook his head at you. “You’re perfect, you know that?”

You shrugged, enjoying the compliment and lifting up to kiss his cheek in thanks. He pulled your chair out for you before you sat down, settling beside you. As you expected, he was a hot commodity, a stream of people coming up to the table to give their congratulations. It only got more constant when Ethan found his seat on the other side of Grayson, everyone making sure they got their moment with the boys.

Grayson was fully engaged, and you did your best to listen, focus on what he was saying, accepting the little nods of acknowledgement everyone was giving you.

But you were much more focused on the way Grayson’s hand was reached back so he could keep a hand on your thigh, his diamond ring cold against your skin as he squeezed every once in a while - a little reminder that he appreciated you being there with him.

It was innocent enough - but the mixture of him in that suit, the professional tenor of his tone, the lights, the fact that his hand was big enough to cover all the way across your thigh. You couldn’t help it - you shifted your legs just barely, only then realizing just how wet you were.

It was wishful thinking that he didn’t notice. And of course, right at that moment there was a lull in the congratulations. He turned back to you, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Come with me, I wanna show you something.”

You smoothed out your dress when you stood up, hoping your skin didn’t look as flushed as it felt.

“Hey. We gotta talk at 8. Don’t leave me hanging.” Ethan’s tone was all too knowing, and if you hadn’t already been blushing you would have when he fist bumped his brother.

You took Grayson’s hand, his Rolex cool against your wrist as he lead you out of the event room, down a small hallway and to an elevator. He hit the button labeled R, and you both waited as patiently as you could. As soon as the doors were closed he was on you, both hands on your face, thumbs over your jaw as he pulled you to him.

You melted into him, molding to his form, whimpering when his right hand traced down your back, crossed over and tucked under the fabric of your dress, fingers ghosting over your bare hip.

“Fuck, forgot you ditched the panties,” he groaned, turning in annoyance as the doors dinged and opened.

There were very few things that could have pulled your attention away from Grayson at that moment - the view was one of them.

“Oh wow,” you breathed, looking out at the rooftop that the elevator had brought you to. It was a garden of sorts, lots of greenery and flowers all around. But the real stunner was the view over the ocean, a perfect Malibu beach stretching out, visible even in the dim twilight that had settled over the sky while you’d been inside.

“Figured you’d like it up here. And it’s private.”

You turned around, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“Private.” You swallowed around the word as he came closer to you, pulling you in for another kiss. This time you got your piece, hands coming up to his neck, searching out any skin you could find over his collar. He one upped you, both hands moving down your back, under your dress and over your ass, squeezing and massaging as he reached further, getting dangerously close to where you needed him most.

“We can’t, Gray we can’t.” Your words didn’t match your actions, whole body jolting when his hands moved out of your dress, right hand resting on your hip from the front now, the slit just making it that much easier for him to gain access.

“Why not?” He mused, kissing along your neck.

“Cause we can’t go back down there looking fucked out. We’ll be home in a few hours.” There wasn’t even a flicker of conviction in your voice, and he just shook his head, unwilling to hear it.

“Can’t. Got me fucked up down there, calling me CEO and shit, hyping me up to that piece of shit. Don’t think I’m gonna make it home without at least a taste.” His hand traced left, ducking under your dress. You gasped as the tape peeled off your skin, leaving you vulnerable.

“Fuck Gray,” you whimpered as his hand cupped over you, your knees buckling underneath you at the feeling of his fingers sliding through your slick.

He groaned at what he found, other hand coming up to the back of your head, chasing your lips with his as you gasped when he started to move.

“Just hold onto me baby, I got you.” His voice was deep in your ear as you clung to him, his arm wedged between both of your torsos as he worked you over. But just when you were really getting there, legs shaking, he pulled away, leaving you exposed and cold in the evening air.

You were about to complain, but the look he gave you told you he was far from done.

“You’re on watch.” His voice and the wink he threw you had your already weak knees about ready to give out as he sunk down, moving your dress away like a curtain.

He pressed a sweet kiss to your hip before he ducked down, holding onto your thighs as he dove in with a wide tongue, finally getting what he’d been waiting for. And even if he hadn’t told you to you would have been bracing yourself on his shoulders.

“I like these heels,” he murmured when he pulled back for air. “Gets me a better angle.”

“Fuck, Grayson.” Something about you using his full name had him diving back in with a vengeance, tongue rough and active, only pausing to suck on you in the most delicious way.

Your eyes rolled back, hands finding his hair, not caring if you messed it up as you held on, twitching a bit as he hummed at the feeling of your nails on his scalp. You forced yourself to focus, watching the door to make sure no one wandered up to the roof, found the star of the whole affair buried in your pussy.

But something else caught your eye - a little clock, number shining blue.

7:58pm

“Gray, G-Grayson, stop, stop it’s almost 8, you have to - fuck - you have to go,” you warned, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pull him away from you.

“Gotta keep my promise first,” he said, only speeding up, knowing you were close from your breathy tone and your quivering thighs. Sure enough, all he had to do was add his finger and you were completely undone, calling out his name and bracing on his shoulder so you didn’t collapse.

He stood back up with a triumphant grin, ego booming as you just stared at him, working through the aftershocks. He checked his watch and clenched his teeth, giving you a nervous look.

“Hell yeah, one minute to spare. Take the elevator.” He pressed a wet kiss to your cheek and jogged off, leaving you panting and alone as he disappeared down the staircase.

“Jesus christ,” you huffed, trying to walk forward on your wobbly legs as quickly as you could, doing your best to pull yourself together. It was all deep breaths and attempts to ignore the wetness on your thighs in the elevator ride as you tried to re-stick the fabric tape with no luck.

The only reason you didn’t go to the bathroom to get yourself re-situated was because you didn’t want to miss the boys speech. So you quickly made your way to your seat, sipping on your drink to try and cool yourself down while you watched Ethan attempt to fix Grayson’s hair at the side of the stage. Oops.

They walked up eventually, waving and acting as humble as ever while the room applauded them. Grayson looked entirely unfazed, as if he hadn’t just been nose deep in your pussy 60 seconds ago. You tried to manifest the same energy, pretend like you weren’t still practically dripping sitting there in your dress.

But when he looked right at you and swiped his thumb across his bottom lip, wiping away what you knew was you? You clenched around nothing, biting down on your straw.

It was going to be a long rest of the night.

They thanked everyone for coming, and for all the support of the brand over the last year. They shouted out everyone on the team, giving them the praises they deserved. Grayson slipped in a little moment for you, a “thank you to my amazing girlfriend who always smells every sample I bring home and isn’t afraid to give her honest opinion, and who keeps me sane and supports me through every step of everything I do” that had your cheeks burning as all the eyes in the room sought you out.

When they were done he wasted no time in putting his hand right back on your thigh as soon as he sat down, smirking a bit when he wrapped around and found just a trace of wetness.

“Easy. My tape won’t re-stick,” you warned, not wanting him to get too frisky and accidentally move your dress.

“Guess you’ll just have to stay close to me then huh,” he mused, leaning in for a kiss that you gave him happily.

The rest of the night went smoothly, from the meal to the social hour afterwards. You stayed on Grayson’s arm, right where he wanted you as he made his rounds, made sure he spoke to the executives that he and Ethan had invited, got the advice he’d wanted to ask about.

Before you knew it midnight had come and gone.

“You ready to get out of here baby?”

“Hell yeah.”

Perks of dating a 20 year old CEO? He has his own driver when he wants it. But to your surprise, the man who drove the three of you there handed him keys instead of leading you to a car.

“Had em drop off the porsche in case we wanted to ditch early and Ethan didn’t.” He answered the question he knew you had, leading you to the familiar blue car that was waiting on the side of the street.

“Always the planner,” you teased, squeezing his arm before he opened your door for you and helped you in.

“I do run a company you know,” he mused, leaning down to kiss you one more time before he picked up the rest of your dress and put it in the car so it didn’t get closed into the door.

You watched his every move as he went around the front of the car and climbed into the drivers seat, starting it up and revving it up once just for good measure.

As soon as he pulled out of the spot you were leaning down to unclasp your heels, groaning in relief when your feet were freed.

“Better?”

“So much better,” you sighed, relaxing back in your seat as he plugged the rental address into the GPS and started down the road.

“Those shoes have their perks for sure. Sorry they hurt you though.” He palmed the wheel as he turned and you bit your lip, remembering exactly what perks he was talking about.

Now it was his turn.

You reached over, hand resting on his thigh, nails digging in just barely. He twitched, foot pressing a bit on the gas, lurching the car forward.

“Easy baby,” you cautioned, turning in your seat so you were facing him, fingers tracing up further, gauging his reaction.

“What’re you doing,” he asked as if he didn’t know, eyes trained forward on the road.

“Keeping promises,” you mused. “Got me fucked up back there.”

He sucked in a breath through his teeth as you repeated his words from earlier, unbuckling his belt and pushing it out of the way as you spoke.

“Yeah? How’d I get you so fucked up baby. Tell me.”

“You know exactly what you did,” you reminded him, popping the button open with your nail, coaxing the zipper down to reveal his Calvin Klein briefs that were already getting stretched as he got harder and harder.

“Wanna hear you say it,” he grunted, knuckles white on the steering wheel.

“Could barely walk to the elevator when you ran off, my legs were all wobbly. Made me feel so good,” you explained, stroking his ego and his bulge simultaneously.

“Fuck yeah they were, and you still made it down for my speech.” You reached up under his waistband, pulling his underwear down enough for you to get your hand around him. His hip stuttered as you started to work him over like only you could.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you hummed, using your thumb to trace the vein on the side of his shaft, up over the tip with just enough pressure to really fuck him up.

“Shit baby. Just like that.”

You did as he said, twisting your wrist over him as he grew in your hand. When your knuckles grazed over his balls the porsche jolted again, making you grin.

“Careful. Can’t fuck you if we don’t make it home.”

“If you weren’t so fucking horny we wouldn’t have a problem,” he huffed, looking at his phone to check the ETA. 2 more minutes.

“Can’t help it. You in a suit just gets to me,” you admitted, batting your eyelashes a bit just for fun. You didn’t count on him dropping his right hand from the wheel and reaching over to you, shoving your dress to the side and immediately cupping over your already sensitive folds. You jolted in your seat, squeezing his dick in your hand.

Two could play that game. With a wicked grin, you shifted, closing your legs so he couldn’t reach you and leaning forward, dropping your head.

Before you could get very far his hand was in your hair, pulling your head back up so you had to look at him.

“Wait.”

You swallowed hard and nodded at his command, sinking back into your seat as he pulled the porsche into the driveway, typing in the gate code, fingers drumming on the wheel while he waited for them to open. He pushed the gear shift forward into park as soon as he stopped, looking over to you.

“Wait.” He said again, opening his door and readjusting himself back into his pants before he came around to your side of the car. He opened your door sweetly, offering you a hand.

As soon as you were on your feet he was crouching, shoulder hitting your hips before he grabbed and lifted, practically throwing you over his shoulder.

You squealed, trying to find purchase against his back, hands balling up his suit jacket in an attempt to hold on. He was unfazed, even taking one hand off you to unlock the door.

By the time he made it to your alls room on the top floor you’d gone limp, knowing there was no point in fighting him. You missed his face while you couldn’t see it, smiling when he leaned forward at the edge of the bed, let you fall on top of the comforter, bouncing slightly.

“Dress on or off?” You asked, quirking an eyebrow.

He pondered it for a minute, eyes darkening as he imagined both scenarios, played them out in his head.

“Off,” he decided. You nodded, standing up and pulling one of the straps off over your shoulder. His fingers found the other before you could, pulling it off so that the top of your dress fell down, revealing your breasts. You looked down with a laugh, almost forgetting about the nipple pasties you’d put on.

He cupped them anyways, thumbs running over the little petal shaped cut outs, the muffled sensation of his fingers on your nipples making your back arch, asking for more. He was gentle as he peeled them away, not wanting to hurt you, ducking down to kiss each one when they were free.

You ran your fingers through his hair as he licked over them, kissing his way across. Your dress continued to fall down, gathering at your hips until his hands found it and pushed it the rest of the way off.

“Much better,” he grinned, guiding you back until you fell on your back again.

It was quite the show, watching him strip out of his suit in front of you. He started with the jacket, tossing it away without a care before he started working at his bowtie.

You couldn’t resist - you sat up, untucked his shirt from his pants, hastily fumbling over the buttons, pausing to run your hands over his abs as soon as you saw them. He groaned at that, especially when you leaned forward to kiss his warm skin. He got the tie off somehow, working from the top button and meeting you halfway before pulling it off. Just him shirtless in those fucking pants was enough to have you fully worked up again, and you laid back down, watching him pull his belt off through the loops, undo his button and pull everything down at once.

Your mouth watered, ready for him, but to your surprise he crawled on top of you, resting just enough weight down to pin you to the bed. He was beaming as he looked down at you for a few moments, just taking you in.

You reached up to cup his face, pulling him down to kiss you, surprised but warm nonetheless at his sudden change of mood.

“I love you,” he murmured against your lips.

“I love you too.” There was no question. “Proud of you.”

“Couldn’t have done it without you.” He pulled back, readjusting so he could line up. You opened your legs a bit wider to make room for him, anticipation mounting as he rubbed himself over your folds for a few strokes. His lips found your forehead as he finally pushed in, stretching you out as he slowly let you adjust to all he had to give.

“So fuckin tight for me, every time baby, fuck,” he huffed out, sinking down further onto you. If you had room to, your back would have arched as you drug your nails over his arms, overwhelmed at how deep he already was.

He dropped to his forearms, rocking above you so hard that your whole body moved across the bed with each thrust. You clung to him, arms moving around him, scratching at his lower back.

You couldn’t even form words, the only things falling from your lips being his name and a constant stream of whimpers, punctuating each drive he made into your heat. Every time he pulled out his tip ran across that spot deep inside you that had you squirming, body unsure of whether you wanted to run away or get closer, overwhelmed by the force of the sensation.

He knew you were close when you started to clench around him, walls fluttering in a way that pushed him towards the edge like nothing else ever could.

When your orgasm came, it was almost too much. You cried out, clinging to Grayson as he continued to pound into you without mercy, only spurred on when you bit onto his shoulder, riding it out before your body went limp for a moment, completely fucked out.

“Almost there baby, fuck,” he groaned, sitting up and grabbing your hips with both hands, holding you up as he chased his high, lost in you entirely. “Want your mouth.”

Somehow in your blissed out state you managed to sit up enough for him to get close enough to you and your waiting tongue. It only took a few quick strokes before he was cumming, hips stuttering as he unloaded into your mouth. You found the energy to suck him dry, taking all he had to give before he guided you off, much too sensitive for you to keep going.

He laid down beside you, rolling to his right to find your hips and pull you on top of him. Neither of you moved a muscle for a few minutes, just trying to get your breathing under control and your heart rate back down to an acceptable rate. When you finally got enough energy back you made your way up to his face, catching him with soft and lazy kisses over his lipstick stained lips, drinking each other in.

You knew that the pictures would run tomorrow, and your faces would be everywhere. You could see all the headlines about Grayson in your mind: CEO, youtuber, famous, heartthrob; every girl that saw him in that suit would be just as enthralled as you had been. But none of it mattered. Because they didn’t get your Grayson, the Grayson who picked you up and carried you to the shower twenty minutes post fuck, helped you take your makeup off and made you laugh until your stomach hurt when he washed his hair and spiked it up in a soapy mohawk like a six year old. That was your Grayson; your CEO, your heartthrob, for the rest of your fucking life. You relished in the thought as you curled up to him that night, loving the weight of his arms around you as you drifted off.

#so... heres this #SURPRISE :)#grayson fic #lynds writes #grayson dolan #grayson dolan fanfiction #gray #pls pls pls lemme know what you think IM NERVY

371 notes · View notes

snelbz · 4 years ago

Text

The Ranch {15}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @snelbz x @tacmc

Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.

Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.

Opening day had arrived and Nesta was caught somewhere between puking and a heart attack. She hadn’t slept at all, but she wasn’t tired in the least. Cassian, however, had snored the night away beside her, not caring what day it was. She envied his ability to sleep through chaos.

Although it probably wasn’t chaotic for him.

He didn’t stress about much.

She envied him for that, too.

It was just after five a.m. when Nesta hauled herself out of bed. She did yoga, a simple workout that had been approved by her doctor, then drank a glass of water and a glass of freshly squeezed lemonade.

It was all she wanted, lately.

Lemonade.

Freshly squeezed.

After letting Beau back in the house, she checked the clock, once more. It was nearing nine, and Elain would be showing up, soon, with a haul of bouquets to decorate throughout the main house.

Nesta and Cassian were still staying in the master bedroom. It was easiest as she prepared for the opening, and Nesta was starting to think that it was best, overall. His cabin was small, and so was the house that she occupied on the land. She wasn’t certain how she would feel once guests began checking in, but for now, the master bedroom of the main house had been treating them well.

Nesta planned to dress in a modest sundress and sandals, laying it out to wear, and all the while, Cassian stayed sleeping soundly, Beau snoring once again at his feet.

She didn’t bother to wake him, not yet.

The celebration didn’t begin until one.

As she stood in their bathroom, she pulled the measuring tape around her stomach, which was still flat as could be. She held the tape up, her thumb indicating where the end of the tape had lined up with the tick marks and looked at it.

She had gone down. By four millimeters.

She groaned, sitting down on the edge of the porcelain, and rubbed her fingers into her temples. So far this baby had made her vomit constantly, she hadn’t woken up without a headache in over a week, and she had probably consumed enough lemonade to ensure she’d never need to take a vitamin C supplement again.

And she had nothing to show for it.

Save for her massive, heavy tits.

Cassian had noticed, which, honestly, wasn’t saying much.

She sighed and stepped into the dress, pulling it up and reaching behind to zip it, which wasn’t a problem, until she reached her back.

It wouldn’t zip.

The fucking dress wouldn’t fit over her breasts.

She groaned, staring at herself in the mirror, the dress remaining unzipped.

“Come on,” she said, cursing, trying again at the zipper.

It wouldn’t budge.

“Shit,” she muttered. “Cassian!”

Nothing.

The man slept like a brick.

So, she tried again, louder. “CASS!”

“Hmm? What?” his sleepy words came from the bedroom, and she instantly felt guilty for waking him, but she needed help.

“I need you,” she said, turning around to show the half-zipped back of the dress in the mirror.

A minute later, a bare-chested, sleepy-eyed Cassian padded into the bathroom. He took one look at her and raised a brow. “You look nice.”

“My dress won’t zip,” she snapped.

“It’s your tits,” Cassian mumbled, and Nesta’s lips formed a tight line.

“Yeah, I know,” she snapped. “Help me, please.”

With a sigh, Cassian came up behind her and tugged on the zipper. It moved maybe half an inch, but not anymore than that. “Babe, it’s not going to zip.”

“Well, try harder!” she scolded.

He sighed again, knowing better than anyone not to argue with a pregnant woman, but more specifically not this pregnant woman.

He pulled and pulled and pulled, until he knew it wasn’t going to budge and he looked at her in the mirror. He gently rested his hands on her shoulders and said, “If I zip this dress up, you won’t be able to breathe, and if you do, these gorgeous, amazing, huge breasts are going to make a special guest appearance for our first guests.” He reached around from behind and palmed them through her dress, hoping to at least make her smile.

The scowl she was giving him through the mirror could have frozen Hell itself.

Cassian quickly dropped his hands. “Do you have another dress you can wear?”

“No,” she snapped. “I have very few, appropriate dresses and they’re all this size, in this cut.”

She tugged on the zipper another few times, but there was nothing.

“Fuck!” she cried.

Cassian frowned, trying to pull her into him for a hug, but she wouldn’t let him.

“I need a dress,” she said, hurrying from the room. “I need something.”

“Hello?” Elain’s voice traveled through the house from downstairs.

Cassian let out a breath. “Thank the gods.”

Nesta shot him a look, but he only held his good arm up in surrender.

“Up here!” Nesta growled, frustration still lacing her tone.

Elain was in the doorway a moment later, eyeing Nesta, then a disheveled Cassian. “Something looks off. There’s a situation happening here, isn’t there?”

“My dress won’t zip,” Nesta snapped.

“It’s her tits,” Cassian supplied.

Elain cleared her throat. “Well, let me take a look.”

She walked up behind Nesta and tried the zipper, but it still wouldn’t budge. After digging her phone out of her pocket, she said, “We have a few hours yet. How about I take you into town a minute to find something new?”

“There’s no time! I still have so much to do and I haven’t even started baking and-.” Nesta began to hyperventilate, something she’d never done in her life, but thanks to these damn hormones, something that was triggered nearly every time she cried.

Cassian was there in an instant, his hands framing her face. “Sweetheart, breathe. It’s okay. I can handle everything, except the baking. Go with Elain, pick up a dress that will accommodate your growing...assets, and come back and everything will be ready for you.”

Nesta nodded, wiping away the few tears that had slipped out. She mumbled, “They’re not assets.”

Cassian looked like he wanted to protest, but didn’t. “Go. I will finish the last minute details. When you come back, all you’ll have to do is bake, and I’ll be there to help you with that, too.”

“I do like ordering you around,” she muttered.

“Exactly,” he grinned. “Alright? Go with Elain. I’ve got this.”

She nodded, hesitantly, but didn’t complain. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he breathed, then looked to Elain, thanks in his eyes.

He gave Nesta a slow, soft kiss before she left with her sister, quietly, in her shorts and tank top. Elain helped her into the passenger side of her car, even though Nesta didn’t need help. It was her sister’s way, though, with her gentle spirit.

They drove into town, mostly in silence. She was grateful for her sister, for her gentleness, her caring-ness, her kindness, but she had nothing to say. All Nesta could think about was what Cassian was getting done in her absence.

Elain parked downtown, on the main strip, just next to a little boutique they used to shop at all the time in high school. She followed her sister in and looked at a wall full of sundresses.

“Alright,” Elain said, clapping her hands together. “What are you thinking?”

“Literally anything that fits,” Nesta mumbled.

“Well,” Elain began, picking up a pink floral number that Nesta prayed was for herself and not her. “What size have you been? You don’t exactly need to jump straight into maternity clothes. So we’ll either need to pick a size up or find a more...forgiving fabric.”

Nesta glared at Elain over her choice of words, but she began to flip through the dresses. “I wear a four, so I guess I should look at sixes?” She held a dress up, but the lime green fabric nearly hurt her eyes.

“Or a stretchier four,” Elain reminded her. “How about this?”

She held up a pale yellow dress with a grey pattern stitched in. Nesta made a face of indifference. “Don’t know if yellow is a good color for me.”

Elain nodded. “That’s fair. Yellow isn’t a good color on anybody.”

Nesta chuckled and the two of them set to searching, each finding a few dresses Nesta didn’t absolutely despise.

She tried them on, but refused to show Elain any of them, no matter how much her younger sister protested. At last, she settled on a pale blue dress, reaching just above her knees. The spaghetti straps were decent in holding up the fabric that mostly covered her breasts. She changed into the clothes she had arrived in, claiming it was the one. After paying for it, she dragged Elain from the shop, ordering her sister to take her home.

Elain didn’t argue. She wasn’t one to argue, anyway, but Nesta assumed it was mostly because of her current attitude. Nesta couldn’t apologize, though. She was too pregnant to care about her sister’s wishes, as awful as it sounded.

When Elain was pregnant with Azriel’s spawn, Nesta would react the same.

True to his word, Cassian, with his good arm, was displaying Elain’s bouquets around the house, on every table and shelf. He had also vacuumed and dusted, once more, for good measure. He’d even gotten the things he thought she was most likely to need out on the kitchen island for her, although those things only consisted of sugar and flour.

Elain had made herself scarce, going to find Azriel and promising she’d be back to help as soon as Nesta needed her, and Nesta made her way upstairs, dress bag in hand. She heard the shower running and made her way into their room. The white dress she intended to wear - the one she’d specifically bought for this occasion - was still on the bed where she’d thrown it on her way out. It was next to Cassian’s sling.

She sighed and re-hung it on the plastic hanger and knocked on the bathroom door. Cassian’s muffled reply sounded and she let herself in.

He called over the water, “You find a dress, baby?”

She entered her closet and hung them both up, deciding not to wear the blue dress until after she’d finished baking. “Yeah. But I don’t like it as much as I liked my white one.”

“I’m sure you’re going to look as beautiful as you always do.”

Nesta smiled toward the shower, even though she knew he couldn’t see her. Well, not in-depth, anyways. The frosted glass allowed Cassian to see out just as much as it allowed Nesta to see in. And all she could see was a vast expanse of tan, naked, wet skin.

Gods it has been so long since they’d had sex.

Three more days and Cassian would be off of light-duty, as they’d jokingly started calling it. To the doctors, it meant Cassian was allowed to stop wearing the sling and was allowed to return to work, as long as he continued to have Az do the literal heavy lifting. But to the two of them, it meant the end of a nearly three-week-long dry spell. Longer than they’d had to go since they’d gotten together.

She nibbled on her bottom lip as she said, “Thank you for prepping for the opening.”

“Of course,” he replied, above the water. “Anything I can do to help. It’s nice to feel useful.”

She leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom to say, “The band should be arriving any minute now to set up. I could use a shower, so hurry up.”

“You could use a shower?” Cassian asked, pretending to be oblivious. “Were you inviting yourself? There’s room for two.”

“Three more days,” she warned.

“I can’t even see you naked?” he laughed, his heavy feet turning atop the tile.

Nesta sighed. Of course, he could, but the temptation that came along with such had her toes curling. “Hurry up, Nazari.”

“Join me, Archeron,” he argued. Then, he added, “I promise to be nice.”

Nesta hesitated, but sighed and stripped off her clothes, quickly wiping the remnants of her tear stained makeup off. She tossed two towels on the vanity by the shower, knowing he hadn’t remembered to grab one for himself, and pulled open the door.

The warm steam enveloped her as she stepped in and was face to face with his, well, back. She reached up and traced the ink that swept from his left shoulder blade down the outside edge of his spine. The shiver that went through him had nothing to do with the cool blast of air she’d let in when she’d stepped in, but before he could turn, she’d wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him from behind.

“Do you think people are going to like it?” Her cheek was pressed to his warm back. The question was quiet, barely audible over the water pattering on the tile.

“Like what?” He asked, after a moment.

“All of it,” she breathed. “My dress, my cooking, the opening. The B&B itself.”

He took a moment to respond before turning to meet her, his hazel eyes lit with surprise. His brows were scrunched together as he answered, “Of course they are. Nes, you have worked so fucking hard and you should be so proud at what you’ve accomplished. I know I am.”

She smiled, seeing the truth of his words in his eyes and leaned up to kiss him, pulling back when she was poked in the stomach. “Seriously?”

“It’s been a long few weeks,” he laughed, pulling her against him regardless. He kissed her, his lips still brushing hers. “He’s missed you.”

She laughed, “Oh, it’s him, is it?”

“Yes, him,” Cassian laughed. “I love you, but his obsession with you is an entirely different thing. He’s missed you. Give him some love.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Three more days.”

Cassian groaned, his head falling back. “If you tell me that one more time, I’m going to lose my shit.”

“I believe your shit is already lost,” she mumbled, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Just a quickie,” he whispered.

Nesta snorted. “No.”

“Please?” He asked, kissing her forehead, her nose.

“No,” she laughed.

“You have no idea how badly I need to be inside you.” He began to kiss her neck, her shoulder, and she let him, loving the feeling on her skin. “Let me make you feel good, baby. It will help make today easier, I promise.”

His mouth continued his assault on her neck while his hand traveled south, stopping to tug on a peaked nipple, which had Nesta whimpering softly. It continued to move down until it was over her stomach, fingers spread out. “I am so proud of you, sweetheart. You told me you were going to do this the very first day you came back and you did it. I love you so much.” He crouched, the spray of the water on his back, pressing a kiss to Nesta’s stomach. “And I love you. More than I can begin to explain. I can’t wait to meet you.”

Nesta was tearing up again, watching the man before her, this powerful man that put his life on the line for his best friend, for her, talking to their baby.

A knock came at the door. “Uh, Nes! The band is here…”

Cassian was back on his feet as Nesta called, “Be right out!”

“No she won’t!” Cassian followed.

Nesta laughed, rolling her eyes. “You’re going to make Elain uncomfortable.”

“What?” Cassian asked. “She knows I knocked you up, but us showering together is taboo? Yeah, okay.”

Nesta blinked. “Did you just say taboo?”

Cassian was peeking his face out of the glass, as if it helped amplify his voice. “She’ll be right out!”

He wrapped his arms around her one more time, even though he knew their time was short. “Hey,” he whispered, getting her to look up at him. “You’re going to kick ass today. I love you.”

She smiled up at him and rose up on her toes, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I love you, too.”

And he had no doubt. She would.

Twenty minutes later, Nesta was hurrying downstairs, t shirt and shorts on, hair dried but not yet styled, nor was her makeup done, and met Elain talking with the band in the living room.

“Hey, Lucien,” Nesta said, in a rush. “I’m so sorry. Times just gotten away from me today.”

Lucien grinned, and shrugged. “It’s all good. Elain’s organizational skills are coming in handy.”

Nesta winked at her sister. “Good.”

“I heard the news, by the way,” Lucien went on, nodding to Nesta’s stomach. “Congrats.”

Nesta’s smile softened. “Thank you.”

Elain cleared her throat. “So I was thinking we could set the band up over by the new stables. That’s where we’re serving the food, right?” A nod from Nesta while Lucien listened to his best friend’s instructions. “The vendor tables are going to be all along the west pasture edge and…” She looked down at her watch. “The bounce house will be here at twelve-thirty.”

“Great.” Nesta took a deep breath and was thinking through what all she had left to do.

Cassian’s heavy boots came thudding down the stairs, and he appeared around the corner. “Hey, Luce.” He shook his hand. “How’s that shit bag friend of yours that shot me doing?”

Lucien cringed. “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t spoken to him since he was sentenced.”

It had been an emotional day to say the least. They had all been asked to testify, and only Feyre and Nesta had declined. Nesta wasn’t sure her nerves could handle it, didn’t want her baby being flooded with those kinds of endorphins. Feyre told their lawyer she lacked the ability to be subjective.

As one of the intended targets, Rhys would have spoken regardless, but since he had been the one to keep Cassian breathing until they’d gotten him to surgery, his testimony was damning. As were Elain and Azriel’s, though Elain was more of a witness than any direct involvement. Azriel had had to retrace his steps, once in person and once over a map of the property. But all Cassian had to do was answer simple questions. His body, the trauma he’d gone through was evidence enough.

Cassian nodded, opening his mouth to speak, but Nesta cut him off. “Where’s your sling?”

“Come on, Nes, it’s a family fun festival,” he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “We’re a family, we’re gonna have fun, and I’m not doing anything today that requires my sling.”

“Put it on,” Nesta said, turning to go back upstairs and finish getting ready. “Or you’ll regret it. Elain, you got this?”

She gave Nesta a glowing smile and a thumbs up. She lived for party planning and when Nesta had tried to talk a price for helping, Elain had told her she was offended and to not bring it up again.

After walking back into the master bedroom, Nesta padded into the bathroom and started on her makeup. When she was pleased, she stripped off her tee and shorts and pulled on the pale, blue sundress. Outside the windows, she could hear vendors arriving and scurrying about.

Her nerves were going haywire.

It didn’t help that Cassian had yet to come get his sling. Not only did Nesta have to worry about everything else, but she had to worry about him, too.

Nesta slipped on her sandals and unlocked the velvet box on the dresser, where she took out the necklace he had gotten for her. Standing in front of the mirror, she clasped it around her neck.

After grabbing Cassian’s sling off the bed, she was hurrying back downstairs.

She rushed into the kitchen after finding Cassian talking with Rhys, throwing the sling to him and hitting him directly in the face with the wadded up fabric. She tied an apron around her waist and began to whip up the batches she needed for the macaroons she was making.

After about twenty minutes, Feyre rushed in the backdoor. “Sorry, I know I’m late, I’m here!” She set her bags down and hugged Nesta. “I’m so happy for you.” She pulled away abruptly. “Are your tits…bigger?”

She sighed. “Does no one else know what happens to the female body during pregnancy?”

“I’ve learned, recently, first hand,” Cassian said, mouth full of baked goods. He had claimed he was helping Nesta, but he was doing no such thing.

Feyre shot Cassian a bemused look. “What kind of sex life could you two possibly be having right now-.”

“Feyre,” Nesta snapped.

“She’s right, no physical activity,” Rhysand muttered, his mouth also full of Nesta’s baking.

Nesta was rolling her eyes. “Feyre, can you take these two assholes and give them a job to do?”

“Damn,” Rhysand said, just as Cassian muttered, “Watch your language.”

This only earned them both a death stare.

They were instantly on their feet, following Feyre out of the back door.

Nesta sighed, thankful to her sister for giving her the small moment of peace and quiet in what she was expecting to be one of her busiest days yet. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and memorizing the scents around her: the warm, sweet smell of the baking macaroons; the rich, woodsy scent of her childhood home; the earthy scent of the rolling pastures. But there were also subtler smells around her, that were harder to pick up on, but just as important, like the unpleasant, but honestly, not that horrible once you get used to it manure; the hint of bleach and lemon from where she’d spent hours cleaning the kitchen yesterday; the heady pepper and spice scent of the love of her life.

Nesta tried to stop the quiet sob that left her mouth, but her hormones were so crazy. She was just so overwhelmed by where her life was, how happy she was in Velaris when she never thought she could be. She was having the baby she never thought she would with a man she never could have imagined.

And now she was carrying on her father's legacy, his dream. She looked out the window, watched as the flurry of people set up for the celebration that the whole town was invited to.

A celebration for her father, for his dream, for the rebirth of something Nesta once had no interest in, but now put her everything into.

The thoughts running through her mind had her eyes growing misty, but not with tears of sadness, only joy.

After finishing up in the kitchen, Nesta walked out into the backyard, where everything seemed to have been already set up. There were lawn games spread out, the band set up by the stables in the distance, tables laid out where the caterers were setting up the food.

People would be arriving any minute.

“Excuse me, miss?”

Nesta turned to find a woman with a kind, familiar face approaching her. “Hi, welcome to Belles & Blossoms.”

She smiled fondly. “You don’t recognize me.”

Nesta blinked a few times. “Alis? Oh my, goodness! Hi!”

She embraced the sweet woman who’d taken an interest in a surly teenager in a diner, taught her to love cooking, and all manners of it, not just French gourmet.

“I heard you were back and reopening the B&B,” Alis smiled. “We will have to catch up some time so you can tell me all about your adventures.”

“I’d love that,” Nesta agreed. “I went by the diner a few months ago, but you weren’t working.”

“Well, I’m glad I hunted you down,” she chuckled. “Are your sisters here?”

“Somewhere,” Nesta said, looking around. All she could see was Cassian standing by the beer table, helping himself. When he caught her eye, he waved.

He still wasn’t wearing his damn sling.

“You’ll have to excuse me, Alis,” Nesta said, chuckling softly. “The resident thorn in my side is poking me.”

“Cassian Nazari is a nice boy, Nesta,” she said. “He’s been sweet on you for quite some time.”

She spun, looking at her quasi therapist, surprise on her face. “What?”

Alis laughed. “You always had your nose in a book, you never stopped to notice when someone was noticing you. Even all those years ago.”

She winked and headed towards the house, blending with the small crowd that had begun to accumulate. Nesta stared after her, blinking.

“You look lost.”

Nesta jumped, having been lost in her own thoughts, indeed. Cassian was standing behind her, watching her, thoughtfully, a plastic cup filled with beer in his hand.

Nesta’s look of surprise turned into one of frustration. Her eyes narrowed. “Where is your sling?”

Cassian blinked. “I don’t understand the question.”

“Cassian,” Nesta groaned, but he was only laughing.

“I’m fine, alright?” He held up his cup as proof. “Took my pain meds, got my alcohol, even Rhys says it's fine. I promise to put it on as soon as all these people leave.”

Nesta’s lips formed a straight line. “You’re trying to uphold your tough guy image, aren’t you?”

He nodded. “Absolutely, yes. Yes, I am.”

She pursed her lips, trying to keep the smile from forming, but Cassian saw the side of her mouth twitch. He saw the sparkle in her eyes that only came out for him. He wrapped her in both of his arms, holding her tightly and kissed her forehead.

She gazed up at him and smirked, “So what you’re saying is I shouldn’t tell them all how you cried during the end of Eight Seconds?”

His tone was one hundred percent genuine when he said, “He was riding for Lane, Nesta. Even you were tearing up.”

She laughed and leaned up on her toes, kissing him. “Or that you tear up when you tell me stories of what you want to do with our baby? Or when you talk to our baby? Or when you do anything that has to do with our baby?” She was laughing by the end, but silent happy tears were streaming down her own face.

Cassian watched her, absolutely adoring everything about the woman in his arms. He hugged her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and said, “Okay, you emotional basket case. Let’s go find you some lemonade.”

“I really like lemonade,” she whispered.

She was convinced it was her one true love, as of lately.

Cassian grinned. “I know, sweetheart.”

The entire town began to gather as they walked about the grounds, Nesta sipping on her lemonade as she greeted her guests. She was surprised by the turn out. She had hoped this many people would show up, but to actually watch it unfolding was miraculous.

Cassian was his usually charming self and, true to his word, he seemed to know everyone.

“How are you feeling?” Mor asked, when they’d joined her on the porch. Her plate was piled high with Nesta’s macarons, as well as the barbecue they’d had catered for the event. How she managed to stay so fit but eat as much as she did was a mystery to everyone.

“I’m okay,” Nesta smiled. “The morning sickness is the worst part, not that I can even call it morning sickness. It happens at all hours of the day, with no warning.”

Feyre crinkled her nose. “Between that and your unintentional boob job, I’m beginning to think adoption may be a good fit for me.”

She laughed but Rhysand shook his head. “You told me last night you can’t wait to start having kids.”

She glared at him. “I said start trying to have kids.”

He chuckled. “My mistake.” He kissed the top of her head and headed to meet Az and Cass at the food table, which had apparently become a beer pong table.

Mor asked, “But aside from that, the pregnancy is...normal?”

Nesta laughed. Their friends had all had questions about it, whether or not she needed to take it easy for the next six months. They’d had questions about it, but at her doctor’s appointment the week before, he’d told her to follow the same precautions as a normal, expected pregnancy. It wasn’t staying pregnant that was a problem for Nesta’s body, it was getting pregnant.

She started to reply, but a deep voice behind her asked, “You’re pregnant?”

She turned and found Tomas and a friend on the porch steps. She looked around frantically, trying to locate Cassian in the crowd, or Rhys, Azriel, anyone that was Tomas fucking Mandray. They weren’t at the stables, not with the food. Her phone wasn’t on her. Mor didn’t know Tomas and Feyre and Elain didn’t know how truly deeply her fear of the man ran.

But Nesta nodded before turning her back to him, hoping he’d go away.

He didn’t. “Congrats.”

To anyone else, it would sound genuine, but when Nesta looked back over her shoulder, she saw the gleam in his eye, that familiar gleam, one she loathed with every ounce of her being.

He was pissed.

Years later, and he still thought he had some sort of claim on her.

“Thanks,” she gritted out, through clenched teeth.

“Where’s the dad?” Tomas went on. “Have to congratulate him, too.”

Mor opened her mouth to answer, but Nesta was already saying, “Don't know.”

Tomas nodded, Elain shooting a worried glance at Nesta.

“Well, hopefully I run into him before the days done,” Tomas said, then winked, before walking away.

Nesta’s blood ran cold.

Elain places a gentle hand on Nesta’s knee. “Are you-.”

“I’m going to be sick,” she said, shooting to her feet and heading for the house. She knew her nausea had nothing to do with the child growing inside of her and instead to do with the man that couldn’t accept that she no longer belonged to him and never would again.

She threw herself up the stairs, where no one was, and fell into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She was on her knees, her skin hitting the tile with such a force that she cried out as she hurled the contents of her stomach into the toilet.

She knew she was crying, knew her makeup was running, and it only grew worse as she thought, I have to get to Cassian.

What if Tomas did find him? Surely he wouldn’t congratulate him, surely he would have other things in mind.

And Cassian was in no condition to hold up his end of a fight.

But a soft knock came to the door.

“Nes?”

Cassian. His deep, calming voice floated through the door.

She tried to speak, but instead, another round of heaving hit her and Cassian tried the knob. “Sweetheart, the door is locked. Are you okay?”

She heard muffled voices from the other side of the door, barely registering that one was female. She tried to say something, anything, but it was as if her voice wouldn’t work. She climbed to her feet on wobbly legs and unlocked the door.

Cassian opened it, finding her with puffy, red eyes, streaks of mascara running down her face, and bruised knees where she’d dropped to the tile.

His gaze fell, heartbreak filling his eyes as he shut the door softly behind him.

“Elain found me, said something happened with Tomas.” His voice was soft, both of his hands cradling her face. Concern lacing his tone.

They had talked about Tomas before, but very little. Enough that he knew what had happened between them, knew the hatred and fear that Nesta felt when it came to her ex.

When Nesta didn’t answer, Cassian pulled her into his chest and held her tightly, closely.

“I hate him,” she whispered.

“I know,” Cassian breathed, rubbing slow circles on her back.

“My face is ruined,” she said, and when she looked at his shirt and saw the mascara stain on it, her frown deepened.

“Makeup can be re-done, shirts can be washed. Not a big deal.” He kissed the top of her head and stooped to pull a makeup wipe out from under the cabinet. He handed it to her and pulled the shirt over his head, wincing slightly as he raised his left arm. Nesta’s eyes were concerned when he looked back at her. “I’m fine, I promise. Just sore. See?”

He went through the motions of the physical therapy Rhys had shown him and Nesta silently watched. The only reason she wasn’t making him put the sling back on is because Rhysand had said it was healing well and he could use the movement to keep it from getting stiff. She sighed and nodded, trying to salvage what she could of her makeup, while Cass leaned on the door frame, watching her. Still shirtless.

Nesta tried not to look at the puckered scar forming on his chest, even if he didn’t seem to have a problem messing with the tender spot.

“It’s all going to be okay,” he whispered, watching her with his arms crossed. They were the same words he had muttered a million times since he’d been shot.

Nesta just nodded, not quite believing them, not quite wanting to protest, either. She dropped the wipe in the wastebasket and met her reflection.

Good enough.

“Perfect,” Cassian said, his voice still low.

Nesta closed her eyes and took a deep breath before meeting his stare. “Okay.”

“Ready?” He asked, holding out his hand.

“I’ll go get you a shirt,” she said, in answer.

Cassian grinned. “What? I can’t go out like this?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’ll start a riot.”

He strolled into his closet and came back out in one of his old faded t-shirts he loved so much. She wanted him dressed a little more nicely, but she decided it didn’t matter what he was wearing. This was their home. Why put on an air that they were anyone but who they really were.

He took her hand, but when he headed for the door, she hesitated, tugging him back lightly. He looked at her.

Her bottom lip was between her teeth. It was a habit he didn’t even think she realized she had, but he knew she was truly worried when that full lip was caught in her teeth. He gently used his thumb to free it and leaned down to press his own lips to hers.

He asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Tomas said he… He wanted to congratulate you, on our pregnancy.” The words were small. Scared.

“Congratulate me?” Cass asked. “That doesn’t sound like him.”

“No, it doesn’t,” she said, taking a breath. The words began to flow out of her in a whoosh of air. “And that’s why it worries me. I don’t know what he wants to do to you, but you’re in no condition to fight, but I also really would prefer not to make a scene at our own grand opening, and-.”

“Nes, baby, breathe.” He rested his hands on her shoulders. “Breathe, sweetheart.” She did as she was told, tamping the hyperventilation down. “Do you really think Azriel and Rhys would let anything happen today? Or anything happen to me?”

She shook her head.

“Stop worrying,” he said, that little smile plastered on his lips. “If it helps, I’ll stay right close by until everyone leaves. Okay?”

“Okay,” she said, smoothing out her dress even though there were no wrinkles. She knew she was overreacting, but she couldn’t help it.

Not today.

It was all too much.

“Do you want to order pizza for dinner?”

Her head snapped up. A night to not cook, a night to eat greasy, cheesy food and just relax? “Please.” Then she added, “And can we watch a bad movie?”

He held her hand as they headed back downstairs and into the crowd. “The worst movie we can find.”

The rest of the afternoon had gone well. They hadn’t seen Tomas again, but Nesta kept Cassian within view until everyone left.

He knew she worried about him, and he didn’t want to cause her anymore stress. She had enough on her plate.

Which is why Cassian was walking up the stairs of the little house, a box of pizza, a giant bottle of lemonade, and a twelve pack of beer in his arms. Since it was the first night of guests in the B&B, they would be spending their more private evenings in one of the little houses. Maggie would be on site from nine in the morning until five in the afternoons, Wednesday through Sunday. The guests all had the emergency number Cassian and Nesta had set up. Everything was going smoothly and he’d even stopped in to check on the guests on his way back to the house.

Tonight, Nesta needed to de-stress.

And Cassian had a few ideas on how to make that happen, starting with junk food and her requested “bad movie”.

The first step of that was already in motion. Nesta had been soaking in the clawfoot tub with a book for the past forty-five minutes while he picked up their dinner.

Beau poked his head out through the newly installed doggy door, not quite used to the weird way he’d been getting in and out of his houses. He gave a short yelp of greeting and Cass tried to get him to come through the flapping door, but after a solid forty seconds of nothing, he gave up and opened the door.

He found Nesta in the kitchen, at the stove and he set the pizza box down on the counter. “I thought you didn’t want to cook.”

“I don’t,” she sighed. “I can’t stop thinking about the smell of mirepoix, even if I don’t have a dish to put it in.”

Cassian walked to the fridge, putting the lemonade and beer in, grabbing one for himself before shutting the door. He looked into the pan. “Onions, carrots, and celery?”

She nodded, taking a deep breath. “And butter and garlic.”

He chuckled, shaking his head.

Her wet hair was bundled on top of her head. Her face was bare, not a stitch of makeup on, and she was wearing one of his old rodeo t-shirts.

He turned her face towards him and softly pressed his lips to hers. “Gods, you are so beautiful.”

Her eyes narrowed but she could stop her small smile. “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” Cassian asked, cracking open his can.

“Complimenting me,” she said, simply, taking the giant bottle of lemonade he’d gotten and pressing it straight to her lips.

“No glass?” Cassian asked, amused.

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Why would I waste time with a glass?”

He couldn’t argue with that logic.

He gestured to the pan on the stove. “Do you want to put that on top of your pizza?”

She scrunched her nose. “No, the smell was enough. I’m ready to eat my pizza though.” She was eyeballing the box and Cassian laughed.

She started to clean up the kitchen and he put the pizza in her hands and said, “Go. Sit. Eat. I’ll handle this.”

Nesta smiled and did exactly that, while Cass put the cooked vegetables in a bowl to cool down. Looks like Beau was going to be getting a good meal tonight.

Eventually, Cassian finished up with the kitchen and joined Nesta on the couch. After a fierce debate about what exactly fits the parameters of being a “bad movie” and genuine offense from Cassian when Nesta picked one of his favorite childhood movies, they finally agreed on a cheesy romantic comedy and Nesta was asleep on Cassian’s chest almost immediately. He turned the tv down and changed it to roping highlights, scrolling through his phone. His good arm was still around her, but he was able to do what he needed with his left arm.

After about an hour, even he was tired from the day’s festivities. When his eyelids slid shut of their own accord for the third time, he knew it was time to move to the bed.

“Nes,” he whispered, peppering her brow with soft kisses. “Wake up.”

She stirred, but whimpered, forehead creasing as she frowned in her sleep.

“Nesta, wake up, sweetheart.” He gently shook her.

She gasped, eyes wide. “Where is he?”

He framed her frantic face with his hands. “He’s not here, baby. It was a bad dream.”

She was still breathing hectically, eyes searching everywhere, from shadows in the corners to the hallway behind them. “Bad dream?”

“Just a bad dream.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Come on, let’s go to-.”

The sound of glass shattering filled the small house and Nesta screamed. Cassian immediately pulled her into himself and covered her body with his.

Beau was barking, but the shattering had stopped. And once Beau realized they weren’t under attack, he quieted down, too, going to sniff at the middle of the room.

The silence was disconcerting. Nesta was quietly crying into Cassian’s chest and he unwound her fingers from in his shirt. He stood, following Beau to where he sniffed. He was careful not to step on the glass, picked Beau up before he could do the same, and herded a shaking Nesta into the bedroom. He calmed her down before coming back out and inspecting the item that had shattered not only serenity of their night, but also their front window.

A brick, with one, solitary word scrawled in baby blue paint:

Congratulations.

#the ranch nessian #theranchnessian #shara collab #sharacollab #snacmc #tacmc snelbz collab #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf

263 notes · View notes