#I can take my sweet time getting through the series or stop whenever I want

[lexreadsdiversely]

How the fuck did I, loather of series with more than two books, start a nine book series without realizing?

[wandagcre]

push it for the pleasure | wanda maximoff 🔞

(College!Perv!Bestfriend Wanda Maximoff x Innocent!Fem Reader)

Wanda’s perverted thirst gets the best of her. You were irresistible and simply for her taking. And what does she do? She doesn’t resist. Instead, Wanda feeds the gnawing, filthy, and hungry monster inside of her by having her way with you even while you’re unconscious.

WARNING: heavy dubcon/noncon themes, fingering, perverted actions such as implied stealing undies, staring, touching and taking nonconsensual nudes, daddy kink (W), corruption kink, somnophilia | 18+ men & minors dni. Words: 3.6k Note: part of the perv!wanda series. you can consider it as a backstory that happened before this oneshot ;)

[perv!wanda series] | [masterlist]

Wanda had an affinity for your tedious nature. Whether it comes down to your personal interests or university workload; not solely rooted by your clear determination written in your adorable face that she admires, but rather, how it leaves you exhausted to your very bones. Tired meant the manifestations of neglect — one that left you comfortable on your bed as the aftermath. 

You were so lucky to have her, not only Wanda has slid a bottle of water or a snack on your side, but on a good day with a less constricting schedule of hers, she's got the privilege of pressing firm around the strained muscles of your shoulder — feeling you succumb into the comfort and her ears being rewarded of your soft moans.

 

A purr escaped your mouth. "That feels so good Wands..." Your body slumped in a relaxed state.

Wanda bit her lip at the innocent play of your words. "Anything for you, dorogaya. Do you want me to press harder?"

"Ah... yes, if- if it's alright with you," came a meek response out of your lips. 

Wanda knew the effect of her native language on you. She couldn't help but lightly pinch your burning cheeks.

As Wanda kneaded the kinks out of your tired muscles, she couldn't help but thirst for more. The tendency of her insatiable want when it comes to you only grows impossibly bigger every day. Whether it was her dying need to touch you or your attention fixated on her - Wanda needs it all.

"It would be better if you took off your shirt. It’s more direct and effective," She murmured at the shell of your ear. Excitement coursed through Wanda's body as you squirmed in your seat.

You turn your head to the side in question. "Wouldn't that be too much of your time?"

"Nonsense. I love doing this for you."

Wanda wolfishly grinned as she saw you eventually nod in agreement.

Oh, you were so pliant and ready for her.

Your bestfriend had to stop her scandalous thoughts of wanting to bite and mark your back as you undressed your top in front of her. She admires the view of your back and its dimples, her mouth-watering and well-awareness of how soft they were. Wanda didn't waste any time on touching you — the breathy innocent moans and soft tilts of your head as you succumbed to her touch whenever Wanda hit a satisfying spot made her mind go haywire. Her thumb applying pressure over the bottom of your trapezius; just where your nape rests upon particularly was a sweet spot. 

You looked lost; wrapped in complete bliss. 

"Can I touch you whenever?"

"Like this?" 

"Yes," Wanda doesn't miss a beat. It was risky and ambiguous, and so she adds, "I love your skin and how soft it is under my touch. It’s so… comforting.”

She decides to take more than she should've and ran her hand across the expanse of your back to caress — how you shivered was hard to go amiss for the woman. 

You know nothing can go wrong especially when it's Wanda. She's the best at attending to your needs, a thought that mildly scared you of how attuned she was, but you knew it was always rooted in benevolence and affection.

Therefore, you couldn't help but recall how come this woman stuck out negatively to other people — having alleged issues of her temperament combined with her altruistic nature. They felt nothing more than a made-up childish rumor in the playground to you as to how Wanda easily conversed with you on that first week when you'd approached her brazenly.

Wanda had figured it out not so long ago; how the double-edged sword trait of yours was how you always believed to see the goodness in the people first. It was a debatable display of strength and flaw.

Besides, you liked having her attention for some reason. Wanda's perfect smile was often so reassuring for you, effortlessly putting you at ease.

"Okay, Wands." was your good-humored reply. Your bestfriend couldn't help but press her lips against the top of your head. You smelled wonderful. Wanda really couldn’t get enough of you.

Your unwavering blind faith-filled Wanda with so much pride.

The cherry on top of it all was how Wanda has taken care of your pretty princess parts; one between your legs and the occasional massages on your breasts. 

It was so easy. 

Wanda thrived on seeing your beautiful irises filled with innocence and gleam as you met her mischievous emerald ones. You've given her the opportunity of a lifetime and she intends to relish every given chance that she can get. It took her baby steps to get here – once she figured out where your affection levels lay, she initiated simple touches – whether it was a hug, tugging you close to her proximity, or now her intentions that stood morally corrupt; Wanda will find a way to accidentally brush against your private parts.

While you lay on one of her arms, Wanda gently ran her fingers through your soft cheeks as you faced her. She soaked in the sweet smell of your shampoo and the distinguishable scent of yours that Wanda could not get enough of. You looked angelic and waiting to be cherished. Soon enough, Wanda seeks for another type of comfort; her hands descending underneath your shirt, tiptoeing almost, with an unstoppable grin on her face — two fingers pushing under the band of your bra. 

"Daddy's here. She'll always be here for you. I'm going to take care of you, dorogaya." Wanda whispered voice lilted with pure desire before her naughty hand came to cup one of your breasts. The recessed night glow that came from your dorm’s window was the only source of light, her actions being done in the darkness amplified the thrill in Wanda’s actions.

A suppressed moan came out of her lips. God, you were so fucking full — supple and fitted perfectly to her palm. One squeeze was followed by a dozen more that inevitably led to pinching and enclosed her fingers from your areola to your now perked tip. 

"All for Daddy..." 

Her thumb came to play for more, in circular motions around your nipple. Your breathing pattern was nuanced although still haven't shown clear evidence of you waking up anytime soon. Wanda rolled the sleeves of her sweatshirt, knowing she had a whole night ahead of her.

Eventually, it wasn't enough. She needed more. 

And so Wanda will make sure to get more. 

Careful not to wake you, she pulls out her arm that served as your pillow from earlier. You now lay on your back, still unphased, Wanda raised the hem of your shirt to reveal your indoor bra. Her eyes darkened at how pure and dainty you were presented in front of her, your blemishes and moles make up a beautiful constellation in Wanda's eyes.

Because of this, she's somewhat still in disbelief at your admission that no one has taken you yet.

But fret not, Wanda thought, because she's here and she's certain that you won't need anyone else other than her anytime soon.

"Daddy's going to play with you dorogaya, trust that it will be so much fun."

Wanda carefully rolls and pushes up your bra and now reveals your delectable breasts, cushiony and hanging free. This simply calls for another photoshoot. 

She quickly retrieved the Polaroid camera that was atop your nightstand, just beside her rings. She's always brought it for a good reason.

Wanda had three subjects; one was nature and the other was you and no one else. What can she say? you've got her wrapped on your finger as much as she does over you. Her last subject was more risqué and controversial, it was still you — although it was a special one — meant for Wanda's eyes alone.

Wanda had placed her lips on your buttery soft breasts and wet them as she suctioned, her tongue coming into play to swirl them around. Her open-mouthed sucks and kisses filled your skin with red and purple marks. Wanda almost had a heart attack at the hoarse, high-pitched timber, a little trait of yours that you randomly let out before you sleepily stretched your limbs. 

You were so cute.

"Dorogaya? Dorogaya..." Wanda hummed in a sing-song, checking if you were still unconscious. 

Once sure that you're in deep sleep again, Wanda doesn't waste a moment to point her camera at your goodies — another one of the latest artworks she had done over you.

Soon as Wanda wrapped up and brought your bra and shirt in its unrattled state, here she was — pensive and debating whether she should ruin your pussy next.

Her greed over you took over with ease. Quickly, Wanda gathers her cascading hair in her hand and ties it up. She masterfully tugged down your shorts and as it reached your ankle, threw it away somewhere in your room. You even wore the red socks she gave you years ago! Wanda swooned at the cute sight. She caressed gently the expanse of your smooth legs where childhood scars and a few more moles came into better view. 

You weren't wet just yet, of course. Wanda immediately wanted to change that and feel the heat you've been hiding away from her — to feel you around her fingers. 

"You're so ready for Daddy, dorogaya. You don't know how much I want to eat you right now... to get a taste directly from its source, my tongue against your pretty and puffy pussy," Wanda knew you couldn't hear her, but it doesn't stop the wanton monologues of her feverish desires over you. "You're just for Daddy, aren't you?" She ran her fingers sultrily across your lower tummy, down to your pelvis.

It simply made her journey worthwhile. She somewhat wanted to communicate how fuckable your virgin self was for her. It was no longer the case as crossed this bridge a few months ago, but her filthy soul relished in corrupting you — with Wanda in complete control and taking you.

Luckily for Wanda, you've raised one of your legs — caught in a folded position, enough for her to pry you open. 

Setting your ribbon-designed undies aside, Wanda’s mouth watered at your inner walls coming into view that she could not help herself and immediately inserted two fingers inside of your velvety walls. 

"Fuck, you're so warm for Daddy!" Wanda rasps out, her body burning. As though in a cue in response, you huskily moaned in your sleep as well. "You love this, don't you? This won't take long, don't worry, dorogaya..."

Your bed rocked and creaked slowly, as Wanda fucked you asleep. The wetness came pouring and coated her until she was knuckle-deep in you. She stretched your now sopping hole, and the breathy moans tumbled out of your pretty lips now and then.

How you did not wake up yet was a miraculous thing for her.

Before Wanda gets carried away in roughly fingering you enough to rouse you out of your consciousness, she pumps and curls her fingers inside of you once more before reaching for her camera. She spreads your inner thighs apart — the viscous wetness that she loved to see was there. The repeated clicks reverberated and the white flashes of her camera came in the knowing four walls of your dorm.

She even inspects your wetness, rubbing and playing with them with her pinched forefinger and thumb.

A wicked smile breaks out of her in glee and satisfaction as Wanda admires for a moment the mess she has made; successful once again as she looks at the polaroid photos she recently took of you.

She pressed a soft kiss on your temple. "You did so well for Daddy."

Almost half an hour later, you wake up confused. You were wet — your cheeks burned. This was becoming a frequent occurrence and you were too old to pee in the bed. You're more than sure that your bladder was well-adjusted. But was there anything else that was wrong with you down there? You tightly crossed your legs.

Wanda appeared from your bathroom. Right, she stayed the night. She was beautiful even if the constant turning in bed had ruffled her appearance. Although, there were much more pressing matters — this is nothing but humiliating for you, surely this spot did not go amiss for your best friend...

"What’s the matter?" Wanda approaches your side. 

You were hesitant, quick to try pushing her away. "Don't come close! I'm wet... I don't know how it happened. Goodness, I know for a fact I didn’t pee myself. Or did I?"

"You did not, dorogaya. Dummy, it was my fault." Wanda gave out a hearty chuckle at your immovable confusion. 

"How was it your fault?"

"I spilled my drink on the bed," Wanda played with your hair and you immediately folded. You were so easy to please. "I was just about to wake you so you can change your shorts and underwear."

You let out another relieved sigh. You were happy to know that it wasn’t your bladder acting up.

"Oh, that kinda explains it. But I think it wasn't your drink that caused this the other nights…”

“Other nights?” Wanda echoed in feigned confusion.

“I-I often find myself wet down there," You confided to Wanda who nodded attentively.

Like a lightbulb moment, Wanda seemed to understand. "It's normal. Our vagina does it by nature, as a way of cleaning itself. It's called a discharge, dorogaya."

As you digest Wanda’s words, confidently assuring you, you take one of her hands and lace it with yours — giving it a comforting squeeze.

"I don't know what I would do without you, Wands. All this time I thought something was wrong with me." You nervously chuckled, beyond glad that the case was sorted out.

"That's why I'll always be here for you." Wanda shoots you a pearly smile. She tilted her head, "Now, why don't you change your clothes?" She brought her other hand that carried your clean panties and shorts. 

Though you were grateful, embarrassment filled you again as you took it from Wanda with your head down and moved away from to bed to start changing.

Wanda sat quietly at your bed and peered curiously over your timid movements. Unbeknownst to you, she was waiting for whether you'd instruct her to look away as you strip down your ruined shorts and undies. She orchestrated the whole thing after her secret session with you, after all.

"C-Can you look away for a bit, Wands?" You requested, but your timid voice cracked in the process.

Wanda raised an eyebrow. "We have the same parts, dorogaya. Besides, I also change in front of you – why does it matter?" She counters and you can't rebut anything else because it is the truth. "I won't judge you. I'm just... impatient to cuddle with you again."

There isn't harm in it, you suppose. Wanda has always been there for you and has proven herself worthy of your trust. So, you affectionately smile at Wanda's needy self.

Your whole back view almost faced your bestfriend, much to her delight — only that her jaw slacked as she got a brief glimpse of your bare ass. Wanda was certain that it was buttery soft just as your hypnotizing breasts were. 

You saw the clear, gooey, and viscous substance that left a mark in the center of your underwear. Your face curled up in a slight grimace. Even if you knew better about it now — all thanks to Wanda — it was somehow still icky for you to look at.

Wanda hands the clean replacements and before you can tug up your new shorts, she pulls you in her direction unexpectedly and brash to your liking.

"Wands– what?" Wanda didn't speak, touched you gently as though you were going to break. Her hand remained on your hips. 

"Hush now, dorogaya. I need to check something." Her tone sounded serious so you let her. Although it felt too intimate, blood immediately came rushing to your ears and cheeks. "I think you need to replace some of them..." 

You try to protest out of timidness, "But—"

"Let me inspect you first. Promise I'll be gentle. It won't be weird," Wanda gave you a condescending smile and you easily caved in.

You feel Wanda everywhere in your body. Her touch was electric on your lower back, the other was too close to your private parts — all wandering. Wanda's fingers came to trace underneath the garter of your underwear. From your pelvis to your innermost thighs, you almost closed your legs shut in reflex.

The air felt ambiguously thick.

Her hands continue to roam around the material — excruciatingly, it was underneath your buttcheek and the pubis area especially, where Wanda’s hands gravitate and wander back onto — doing motions as though smoothening it out.

You let out a sharp inhale and your stomach twitches each time in sync.

"This shouldn't be too hard and tight for you. Not only does it leave marks, but it's uncomfortable, isn't it? The material also is too thin. It's bound to tear off soon." Wanda lists out and all you can think is holy shit, she's right. You weren't confident with your picks when you shopped for them, in all honesty.

"Yeah. I wasn't sure what to pick..." You admit with your eyes looking at your sock-covered feet and your hands clasped in shame.

Besides, you somehow keep on misplacing them. You were baffled by now because you were getting understocked with the amount of undies you had. Where have they all gone?

"Tell you what," Wanda calmly calls your attention and tilts your head up with her hand, "I'd take you to shop some and help you throughout the process so I can teach you too. Don't worry, it's all my treat dorogaya."

Your eyes beamed. You need as much help as you can. "You'll do that for me? But... isn't it too much? I can’t ask that of you.”

"I don't mind, it's not like we do it often. I’m personally offering." Wanda shrugged. She had a point. You'll stop her the next time she insists... maybe in return, you'll do something nice for her.

Sneakily, one of her hands that rested on your lower back descended to your ass cheeks and came in contact to slap them. You sharply gasped and flinched upon the sudden contact, giving Wanda an unamused look. You hoped that she wouldn't detect the fluster in your appearance underneath it.

You didn't understand how it was somewhat satisfying for you. It was a mere play, an act that was nothing more but to tease you — but it felt good against your ass.

You whisper-yelled, calling out her outrageous act.

"Wanda!"

She sports a mischievous smile, her perfect teeth biting down her lower lip. Wanda shook her head and finally raised her hands in defeat.

"Come on! I thrive on riling you up. It's essentially my duty. Now come back and get comfy here in bed. You deserve more sleep. I'll take care of these," She points to the clothes you stripped out of. "And no complaints. I don't mind, I've seen all of you now dorogaya."

"You will be the death of me."

"I love you too," She teasingly replied before disappearing into your view and the words of your best friend made your heart jump.

You groaned in the soft pillow in surrender although it was too much for you — you knew that Wanda's intentions were coming from a good place. She's nothing but thoughtful to you. Soon, the harmony of cold and warmth of your sheets and duvet became too comfortable. You have proven Wanda right and easily succumbed to sleep once again.

Meanwhile, Wanda gathers the polaroid photos she took just a few minutes ago. She closes the door and threw your shorts to the hamper. But your pretty and soaked underwear? It's coming with her.

With the still-damp material of your undies, Wanda strips out her bottoms and sat to the closed toilet seat. She places the fabric over her now exposed pussy; not wasting any time rubbing it against her wet cunt, starting slow, and even thrusting it inside to stimulate and tease her filthy fantasies of you even more. 

God, here she was, touching herself at the thought of you and the photos she had taken of your pretty princess parts. 

Wanda took a good look at it; albeit with much effort as her eyes were threatening to shut at the sensation. It was easy to recall her indecent touches — the feeling of your folds ridiculously soft and unearthly, stretching your labia so she can insert her fingers inside of your opening and how it sucked her in slowly — fuck, you were so tight!

These thoughts spurred Wanda to rub herself with harder pressure and dared to tug and play with her clit — all while covered with your soaked undies. It was somewhat rough against the vulnerable lines and ridges of her labia and provided the undeniably irresistible friction that she craved, doing it repeatedly until Wanda stretched herself out.

It was your cum coating her own pulsating and clenching pussy. She can't help but moan at the thought as she touches herself inside these four, cold walls. How Wanda can only wish instead of her fingers, it was your dainty ones. Even better, you're on your knees for her... eyes wide, expectant, and obedient to her orders. You always looked at her in a certain way that made her stomach flip in adoration and glee. In her filthiest imaginations, Wanda is calling the shots, ordering you to go flatten up your tongue like a good girl and to lap her faster—!

Wanda finally cums hard, a guttural low moan tumbling out of her lips. 

Fuck, she got so wet that it seeped out, the woman was sitting in her mess. Gripping and glancing at the jerking-off materials, she couldn't be more proud of herself today. 

Another for her beloved and favorite collection — all thanks to you. 

do not repost/translate on other sites. © wandagcre

[egcdeath]

the l word

pairing: joel miller x reader

summary: the five times you realized that you loved joel, and the first time one of you says it. 

word count: 9.1k

warnings: canon divergent, no apocalypse, 5+1 fic, hurt/comfort, a certain someone gets punched, brief mention of postpartum depression & abandonment, really brief mention of physical abuse in 3, fluff, domestic fluff, angst with a happy ending, found family

author’s note: happy very early valentine’s day! this is part three of the soccer parents au, you can read spectator sport (p1) and clean sheet (p2) here!

this fic would not be possible if it were not for the help of @freakinfairykind, who sent me the idea for scene 3 and listened to my thought vomit whenever i hit a roadblock! you can thank them for the brilliance that is what occurs in that scene :)! enjoy!

part four / series masterlist

Zero

After Nathan, you were sure that you would never fall in love again. Love was supposed to be beautiful and soft—a random bouquet of flowers, having a whole conversation with just your eyes, sweet messages sent to you when you expected it least and needed it most, and foot massages after a long day. For you, love had been nothing of the sort—settling for mediocrity, spitting out venomous words during arguments, and biting back tears on forgotten anniversaries. 

Love wasn’t kind or patient, or rainbows and flowers. Love was a storm cloud that followed you around when you were around him, pouring sadness and anger on you and striking you with lightning bolts of resentment. 

Maybe some people just simply weren’t meant for love. Maybe you were one of them.

One

After years of trying to hold together a failing marriage and hide the myriad of painful feelings you were going through for the sake of your daughter, bottling up your feelings had become your preferred coping mechanism to everyday stressors. 

For the most part, it worked for you. Sure, some days were harder than others, and the smallest confrontation or blip in the day would send you spiraling; but more often than not, you were able to compartmentalize whatever was bothering you and save it for a rainy day.

That was part of what worked so well about the relationship you had with Joel during the soccer season—you had the opportunity to unscrew the lid of the shaken bottle of your feelings just a little bit, taking some of the edge off by yelling about completely inconsequential things. But now, you don't have that outlet. And today was one of those days that you desperately needed it. 

Nathan had come by to pick up Chloe just a bit ago, and it was very obvious that she hadn’t exactly wanted to spend her weekend with him. Some of her friends were going to the mall and having a sleepover, and because Nathan wasn’t particularly fond of their parents, he’d very openly told her no. She begged and pleaded to stay with you (mainly so she could go hang out with her friends), which of course broke your heart a little bit, but also led to a pretty dramatic outburst from your daughter to Nathan when he’d picked her up.

“You’re raising a spoiled little brat,” he hissed at you, pointing an accusatory finger once Chloe was in the car. 

“At least I’m raising her. You only show up when it’s convenient for you,” you shot back. If Nathan wanted to stoop low, you could fall to his level. “Put your finger down. She’s watching us.”

“A little argument won’t hurt her,” he scoffed. “See? You’re proving my point: you spoil her too much.”

“Because years of watching her parents bicker wasn’t traumatic enough? Get in the fucking car, Nathan.”

He huffed, looking back at the car, then over at you. “Fine. But before I go, I’d appreciate it if you stopped talking poorly about me in front of her. Clearly she’s listening to you and acting out because of it.”

“Have you considered that you’re just a shit father and maybe that’s why she doesn’t like you?” you were already making your way back inside, feeling the avalanche of emotions beginning to stir inside of you, and a little frightened of what might come out next. 

“You’re still such a bitch. Every day I praise every deity that’s out there that I left your sorry ass.”

You were viciously fighting the urge to get the last word in, knowing that whatever would come out next wouldn’t be good, and you certainly didn’t want Chloe seeing you like that. You left him with a sarcastic thumbs up, then slammed your front door, taking deep breaths to attempt to calm yourself down.

You crumbled down in front of the door, still maintaining slow and deep breaths. It was no big deal. Nathan just says stuff like that to stir the pot. You just needed to find something to take your mind off of everything. Your mind went to the scarf you’d been working on crocheting, something you could mindlessly do for a little while while you cooled off. 

The scarf was going well. You were calmly crocheting the evening away when you checked your phone to find a few apologetic messages from your coworkers. Feeling confused, you went on to check your email, only to find that the promotion you’d spent the last few months of your life slaving away for had been given to someone else—someone who had worked half as hard as you, and even took credit for a few of your projects. 

Your hands shook as you set down your phone and attempted to pick back up the crochet hook. You were fine, right? Sometimes these things just happen. Sometimes you sacrifice hours of your free time, hours of time you’ll never get back with your child, or significant other, hours you’ll never get back of sleep, hours of-

You cut your mind off, tossing aside the scarf and taking a deep breath. You were gonna be okay. This just meant you could take your foot off the gas going forward, since your work, effort, and time clearly was not being valued. Maybe you would just sit at your desk and play games, then slap your name on projects and presentations like Naomi. Maybe you’d just-

Your phone began to vibrate on your bed and your immediate reaction was to silence it, but upon checking the contact name, you became slightly more inclined to answer. 

“Hey! I almost thought you weren’t gonna pick up,” the man on the other end chuckled. 

“Is everything okay?” you asked, although you weren’t sure you’d be able to handle anything else today. With how your day was going, Joel was probably calling you to break up.

“Better than okay. We finished up early, and Sarah’s already at her friend’s. You in the mood for some company?”

No, not particularly. In fact, if Joel came over, you’d probably end up going off on him over something you don’t really mean, successfully putting an end to the best thing you’ve had in a while. 

“Uh,” your voice cracked, and a rogue tear slipped down your face. You didn’t even know that you were on the brink of tears. “I’m sorry,” you uttered, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes. 

“Sorry for what? You don’t have to feel bad for not wanting me over,” he said genuinely, not picking up on your emotional state over the phone. 

“No, I do want you over,” you whimpered. “I just… I don’t want to lose you, too.”

“What? I promise you I’m not going anywhere. Well, I’m going home now, but I can also come to your place if you want me to.”

“Please,” you grit out. 

“You okay?” he asked, finally catching on to the fact that something was very off with you. 

“I don’t know,” you confessed. 

“Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?”

“No.”

“You sure you want me to come over?”

“Yeah,” you sniffled, desperately trying to fend off your tears.

“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll see you soon, alright?”

“Bye,” you hung up, burrowing yourself under layers of blankets and curling up onto your side. Maybe this tidal wave of emotions would pass by the time Joel got to your place. You closed your eyes as you took deep, shaky breaths, wiping away stray tears every now and then as they fell. You could pull yourself together. 

You kept telling yourself this as you dragged yourself out of bed to answer the door, but the moment you saw Joel with a box of chocolates and a bouquet of flowers, you completely lost it. He immediately tossed the items down and pulled you into a tight embrace, not exactly knowing what was wrong, but instinctually wanting to comfort you regardless. 

You didn’t even really know what it was either. Sure, you were pissed that you’d lost the promotion, and even more upset that Nathan had called your daughter a name while insulting your parenting skills, but it was far more than that. It was every little thing from the past two months that had upset you in some capacity that you had decided to push as far down as possible. 

You sobbed until your throat was raw and your eyes grew sore from crying so much. The whole time Joel wordlessly held you, rubbing soothing circles into your back and swaying you back and forth just the slightest bit. You almost felt like your tears would never stop, and the more you willed yourself to pull it together, the harder it was to do so. 

Finally, you pulled away, head hanging with humiliation by the emotions abruptly pouring out of you. You truly felt like a live wire. You should’ve just told Joel not to come over. 

“Want me to run you a bath?” he asked softly, tilting your chin up so he could look at you, and rubbing a thumb over your cheek. “Or is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

“A bath is good,” you said quietly, averting your gaze. You almost felt like a toddler in the midst of a tantrum. The shame of being a grown woman who couldn’t even control her emotions was overwhelming, but Joel didn’t seem to mind much at all. He simply led you up to your bathroom and quietly filled the tub for you, checking it every now and then to make sure it wasn’t too hot. Once the tub was filled up, he helped you undress, then held your hand as you stepped into the tub. 

“Would you like me to stay?” Joel asked as you settled into the tub. 

“Not really,” you admitted. 

“Okay. Just yell for me if you need anything. I’ll be downstairs.”

Somehow, the bath was everything you needed. It was just warm enough to relax your rather tense muscles, and just quiet enough to allow you to actually process your thoughts. You sat and soaked in the bath for a while, just inhaling the scent of lavender, and trying your best to let go of the feelings that you’d been holding onto for so long. 

Eventually, you felt ready to talk about things, and called out Joel’s name, who after a moment, showed up in your bathroom and sat down on a towel next to the tub. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, reaching for your pruny hand. 

“Better,” you answered as you laced your fingers with his.  

“Well, I’m here when you feel ready to talk about it. And if you don’t feel ready to talk about it, that’s okay too.” 

“Okay,” you said quietly. “I’m sorry,” you apologized, the apology being more of a force of habit. 

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Joel  assured, “we all feel our feelings sometimes,” he pushed away a bit of hair that had fallen into your face. 

“I’m sorry you had to see me like this, I guess,” you continued. It had been a while since you’d shown any negative emotions in front of anyone, let alone a significant other. In fact, the last time you’d been sad in front of a significant other, you’d been laughed at and mocked. You’d been conditioned to see your own vulnerability as weakness, as a character flaw you needed to apologize for.

“Like what? Naked?” he teased, trying to at least make you smile when you’d clearly been feeling so down. “You know I don’t mind that at all. Seriously, though. There’s nothing wrong with being upset, and there’s nothing wrong with being upset in front of the people you care about.”

A tear slipped down your cheek. It had been so long since anyone had made you feel like you weren’t a burden for having a rough day. Joel gently brushed away your tears with his thumb, and kissed your forehead. 

“Thank you,” you muttered, feeling all sorts of feelings, particularly one feeling you couldn’t quite describe that had been lying dormant for years of your life. 

You eventually got out of the tub once the water had become too cold and you had become

somewhat of a human prune, and you found yourself curled up in bed with Joel, wearing a flannel that he’d left behind the last time he was over. 

“Feeling any better?” he asked once again, gently rubbing your back as a trashy reality TV show played quietly in the background. 

“Yeah,” you mumbled as you looked up at the ceiling, “it’s been a rough few months.” 

“Months?” Joel asked, scooting closer to you. “What’s been happening?”

“Too much to get into,” you sighed. “I guess it just all came out now.”

Joel turned down the volume of the TV, and turned his body so that he could face you properly. “If you want to talk, we have the time. I may or may not have drank a coffee on my way over here, so I’ll be completely alert for the next few hours.”

He gently grabbed your hand and squeezed it, a little reminder that he was here for you. 

“Today’s just been… bad. When Nathan picked Chloe up, she was upset so he called her a spoiled brat and said that it was my fault that she was one. Obviously I do a lot for her, and I know that I’m a good mom, but sometimes the way he talks about her scares me a little. I don’t want her to have self-esteem issues because her dad likes to name-call. I mean, she’s probably gonna have enough issues from our shitty relationship and messy divorce. That really upset me, but that definitely wasn’t the last straw or anything.”

Joel silently sat and listened, holding your hand and listening attentively.

“I lost the promotion, Joel. You know, the one I’ve been working absurd hours for? But it’s not just that, it’s just… there are months of emotions I haven’t had a chance to process. I guess it just all came out now after that.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said softly. “Nathan is an asshole. He shouldn’t be saying that kind of thing about his child just to make you feel bad. And your boss is stupid for not giving you that position when you’ve clearly earned it. Everything you’ve felt today is valid, but so is everything else that you’ve been holding in for the past… however long. It’s okay to feel your feelings in the moment instead of waiting for them to boil over.”

“I guess, it’s just… I don’t know. I’ve had to be strong for so long. I don’t know if I know how to not wait for my emotions to boil over.”

“Well, you don’t have to be so strong anymore. You’re not alone,” he assured you. “If you ever need me to watch Chloe because you need to go out to the middle of nowhere and scream, or just need someone to talk your feelings out with, I am more than happy to do so. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed, setting your head on Joel’s chest. 

You were getting that weird, dormant feeling in you once again. There was an odd warmth in your chest and butterflies in your stomach, that felt strange and familiar, but most of all, exciting. You had no idea what was going on, or what that feeling was, but you did know that you didn’t want it to stop anytime soon.

And honestly, it didn’t seem like it would. 

Two

Walking into Joel’s home to the sound of soft guitar chords made you feel a bit like you had woken up in a dream, or died and gone to heaven. It wasn’t often that you’d heard him play guitar. Sing? Sure! He loved to sing along to a song he liked on the radio, or do karaoke with you and the kids. But playing guitar was something that he seemed to like to keep to himself.

Joel had picked Chloe up from school, as you had an important work event that you’d anticipated going quite late, and as you’d predicted, it was nearly midnight by the time you got to Joel’s place. It was rare for you to see those two alone, without yours or Sarah’s presence, but you’d assumed the latter had gone to bed due to how late it was and the fact that they had school in the morning.

So hearing Joel play for your daughter felt… weird. But a good weird. Like he trusted her enough to be doing something that he often kept under wraps, even for you.

“I love this song!” you heard your daughter exclaim from the living room. You rounded a corner, not quite ready to appear yet, but curious enough to eavesdrop on the scene.

Joel chuckled at her reaction, “should we sing it together?”

“Maybe, I’m not very good, though.”

“I doubt that,” Joel said, continuing to play the introduction to the song on a loop. 

“I… fine, I’ll sing.”

The two of them began to sing along to the song, and you could’ve sworn that your heart did an actual flip as you listened. There was something very sweet about the whole scene, of Joel playing a song your daughter loved, of him assuring her that she was good enough, and singing something together. 

You should’ve felt bad for listening in on the scene, for invading on a moment that was clearly meant to be private, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to feel that way when your heart was so filled with… something that you couldn’t quite place.

The song came to a soft conclusion, and you figured there was no better time to finally step out from behind the wall than then. 

“You guys sounded so good!” you stated as you entered the room.

“Oh hi,” Joel greeted a little awkwardly, looking down at his guitar as if he’d been caught red handed. 

“Mom!” Chloe exclaimed, coming over to you and hugging you. “I missed you.”

“We were just killing time while we waited for you to get home. How was work?”

“Eh,” you shrugged, sitting down across from Joel as Chloe curled up next to you. “It was work.”

“Mom, did you know that Joel sings and plays guitar? He’s really good!”

“Really? I didn’t know that,” you acted surprised for your child, but looked mischievously at your partner. It wasn’t often that you had the chance to get Joel to play you something, and you refused to let the opportunity slip away from you. “Can you play me something?”

“He can!” Chloe accepted the offer before Joel could begin to protest. God, was this child your mini-you. “Go ahead, Joel.”

He looked to you as if he needed some sort of excuse to not do it, or encouragement to play (more likely than not, he was looking for an out), but you simply shrugged, far too enthused at the idea of him playing guitar for you. 

Just as the man sighed and began to put his fingers to the string, Sarah came down the stairs and plopped herself right next to you. 

“You guys are loud,” she stated, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. 

“Sorry for waking you up,” you apologized. “You were just about to miss your dad’s concert!”

“Oh good,” Sarah giggled, getting all comfortable next to you as she pulled a blanket over her lap. 

“I feel like this is a premeditated attack,” Joel held onto his guitar. 

“It’s definitely not. We just want you to share your gift with the world!”

“Alright, fine. Only because I like you guys so much.”

The three of you cheered from the couch as Joel began to play again, the soft acoustic notes of a love song you’d heard a few times before. As Joel played and sang, he looked straight at you, and you couldn’t help but feel like the lyrics were coming straight from his heart to you. 

That warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest that you’d become more and more familiar with over the course of your relationship began to reappear as you sat there, the moment a snapshot of the perfect domestic bliss that had become your home life. As you sat with your two favorite children in the world, and your favorite man, you realized that you’d never felt more content in your life. 

Three

When you agreed to come to a bar with Joel, you hadn’t expected it to be a quaint little hole-in-the-wall with great live music. 

The atmosphere was lively, the drinks were dangerously sweet, and best of all, it was cute watching Joel in his element. Part of you wondered if he ever saw himself up on the stage, playing for a little audience. Although, he was so bashful and shy playing in front of you and the girls that you wondered if he would like it at all. 

You finished off your first drink rather quickly, but you were feeling up for another, and prepared to head back to the bar. “Do you want another drink?” you asked Joel over the loud music. 

“I’m alright. Thank you, though,” he kissed your cheek, then looked back up at the stage, directing all of his focus there once more. 

You made your way back to the bar, where you ordered another fruity drink for yourself and patiently waited for it to be made, humming along to the cover being sung on stage. 

Being able to find out more about what Joel liked to spend his time doing was (unsurprisingly) quite nice. While he was vulnerable with his emotions, he was often a little more closed off when it came to sharing his hobbies and interests. You wondered how many of these live shows and open mics he was familiar with, how many local artists he was friends with. Would he ever feel comfortable enough around you to share those things with you? Well, you certainly hoped so. 

You looked around with a small smile on your face at the thought of learning more about your partner’s interests. Had he ever been the one up on stage? Maybe before Sarah was born and he was launched straight into the time consuming world of fatherhood. Although, he surely would’ve shared that with you by now.

You were drawn out of thought when eyes landed on a head of hair that looked a little too familiar for your liking.  

No.

There was no way.

This bar was definitely not his scene. In fact, if you’d suggested this bar, he would’ve laughed in your face and called you a hipster, before dragging you out to some stuffy restaurant where he’d complain about the portion size of both his meal and the bill. 

Your mind was just playing a mean trick on you. You’d had a somewhat stressful week, and sometimes drinking made you the slightest bit paranoid. Besides, it was just someone’s hair. Literally anyone could have that hair color, or hair cut, and although the world was small, it wasn’t that small. 

Just as you began to fall headfirst into your nerves, the bartender handed you your drink, and you walked back to Joel, head still in the clouds. 

You couldn’t shake that off feeling, even as Joel danced around with you and stole a sip of your drink, both actions bringing a smile to your face, but not quite quelling the growing discomfort in your stomach. 

You just needed to go clear your mind and freshen up. At least, that’s what you told yourself before telling Joel to keep your drink safe and power walking to the bathroom.

You stood at the sink, splashing your face with water as cold as the faucets would go. Nathan was not here. You needed to just relax, and enjoy the fun date that Joel had planned. You couldn’t keep letting this man ruin your experiences, even when he wasn’t present.

“You okay, hun?” a voice asked you while your head was bowed over the sink. When you looked up, your eyes nearly popped out of your head, as if you were some ridiculous cartoon character. 

Well. Your brain must’ve really been fucking with you today. Or the Universe just really hated you. 

Claire, Nathan’s new girlfriend, was asking you if you were alright in the bathroom of a bar that your new boyfriend had suggested. 

You were completely unsure of whether she knew who you were or not, although she seemed tipsy enough not to care. 

“Oh, I’m fine,” you smiled awkwardly at her. “But, uh, my mascara’s a little smudged. Any chance you have a makeup wipe?”

“Yeah!” she said, digging into her purse to check for the item. 

You’d never met Claire before, but as far as first impressions went, this one wasn’t too bad. She offered you the wipe, then stood next to you as you dabbed at your under eye. 

“You meet anyone fun tonight?” she asked, beginning to touch up her own makeup. 

“No, I’m actually here with my partner. He really likes the music,” you said casually, dabbing at the same spot so you could at least attempt to maintain your composure in an otherwise dramatically ironic and tense situation. 

“Oh no. Was he the one making you cry?”

“Cry? No! I was sweating. We were dancing,” suddenly, a slightly perverse question crossed your mind. “Does your partner make you cry a lot?”

“How do you even know I have one?” she giggled, sounding less accusatory and more confused. 

“I don’t I just-“

“No, not really,” she shrugged as she reapplied her lip liner. “He mostly just buys me shit and spoils me. What would I have to cry about? He’s a really good guy.”

Oh, you remembered that phase. Well, phases. The time after he’d slapped you during an argument immediately came to mind. Nathan could probably teach a seminar on love bombing, then making you feel guilty for having any negative feelings because of all the money he’d spent on you. 

“That’s good,” you nodded, tossing the used wipe in the trash and making your way to the door. “Thanks for checking in on me and helping me. Have a good night.”

“Hey, do I know you from somewhere?” she asked as your hand hit the door.

“No,” you replied promptly, maybe slamming the door behind you a little too hard. 

This was a lot to process, and a lot to take in. Despite having a fun time with Joel, you really just wanted to go home. Finding your way back out to him, you silently accepted back your drink and stood besides him stiffly. 

“You okay?” he asked, gently grabbing your arm. 

“Fine, just… just.. I have an upset stomach,” you explained. You were never a good liar, the concern in Joel’s eyes told you that you hadn’t suddenly become one. 

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” he said, rubbing your forearm gently. “Let’s go home, okay?”

You certainly didn’t protest as he began to lead you out of the bar, and you let out a sigh of relief at being able to leave before running into anyone else you knew.

Although, life was never that simple, was it?

As you approached the door, a familiar voice called out your name, sending a chill up your spine. Joel’s head whipped around from where it was coming from, and scowled when he saw who the voice belonged to. Ignoring him, the two of you continued your departure, a newfound urgency in both of your steps.

Once you were outside, you felt yourself puff out a sigh of relief. You’d managed to get out of the bar with only a brief conversation with Claire, and no direct interaction with Nathan. Now, if you could only get home, curl up with Joel on the couch, and tell him the absurd story of how you’d bumped into your ex’s new girlfriend in the bathroom. 

But the universe clearly wasn’t letting you off the hook just yet.

“Hey!” Nathan called as he stepped out of the bar, Claire trailing just a few paces behind him. “You’re such a fuckin’ bitch. Can’t even say hi to the father of your child.”

You were almost alarmed by the speed in which Joel marched over to your ex and reprimanded him. Not even wasting a moment, Joel shoved him back—a warning of sorts, with your knowledge that he was certainly holding himself back. 

“Leave her the fuck alone,” he barked. It was like no tone you’d ever heard him use before, not when he was upset with anyone, and not even when he was yelling at a referee for a bad call.  

“And who the fuck are you?” your ex shot back. 

“Does it really matter?” Joel pressed, not backing down despite the slightly shorter man getting in his face. “You’re not gonna go around trying to degrade women.”

“Oh yeah? You gonna stop me, Mr. Nice guy?” Nathan pushed Joel, but your partner barely budged. 

“You fuckin’ cuck,” Nathan muttered. “Why do you even care about this whore?”

Nathan took a second to think about it, glancing between the two of you before a light seemed to go off in his little brain. 

“Oh, I know. You’re that guy from the soccer games. You two together now?" His condescension was almost jarring to hear, and part of you worried about what your clearly inebriated ex might say or do next. “I see you’re still the community cumrag,” he directed at you. 

You hardly had a moment to process what was just said before Joel was swinging, clearly seeing red as he threw a hefty right hook at your ex, leaving a nasty crunching sound as he fell to the ground. 

“Don’t talk about her, or any other fucking woman like that ever again,” he squatted down to his level, and grabbed both of his cheeks. “Leave her the fuck alone, you understand me? Or next time you’re gonna wish it was just your nose.”

Nathan cradled his bloody nose and whimpered and Joel walked back to you, the fury on his face melting into something apologetic as you looked at him with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he began, cautiously approaching you as if he was something to be afraid of. “I shouldn’t have done that. I overstepped-“

“Joel. Don’t apologize. Do you know how much that asshole deserved it? You did everyone a favor tonight, but especially me.” 

You had never had someone defend you so literally before. Sure, your friends had argued with Nathan a few times on your behalf, but punching Nathan in the face had truly raised your expectations for anyone who claimed to be doing anything to help you. You don’t think you’d have felt this alive or cherished in years. 

“Now let’s get you home and ice those knuckles.”

Four

You were usually a big fan of rainy days. The sound of rain pattering against the window or on the roof of your car, and the smell of petrichor on the pavement were sensations you wished you could experience all the time. But today, you weren’t quite so pleased to see the rain. 

You’d taken the day off to spend it with Joel, who had specifically asked for you to take some time off to be with him. You couldn’t blame him, as you’d been slightly neglecting him after things picked up once again at work. You’d had a whole outdoorsy day planned, with a morning hike, a visit to a conservatory, and a picnic at one of your favorite local parks. Unfortunately, none of those activities could be done comfortably in the pouring rain. 

Instead, you opted to come back to your place after you dropped your kids off at school, and have a domestic little day-in.

After putting some homemade cinnamon rolls into the oven, the two of you found yourselves on your couch, comfortably sitting together and reading your own books while the smell of warm cinnamon filled your house. 

Occasionally, you glanced out your window, the scene of rain granting you a sense of serenity. At one point, you noticed Joel’s gaze out the window as well, and you couldn’t help but comment on it. 

“Don’t you just love the rain?” you asked, setting your book down on your coffee table. It was more of an excuse to break the silence than an actual comment, but you said it regardless.

“It’s nice,” he agreed, his tone oddly somber for a comment on the rain. 

“You okay, big guy?” you asked before moving closer to Joel. 

“I’m alright,” he smiled, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. There wasn’t any real concrete evidence that something was off, but something inside you told you that something definitely was off. 

“You sure?” you asked, squeezing his bicep. 

“Yeah, it’s just,” he paused, looking down at his book as if he was about to go right back to reading instead of telling you the issue. After a moment of hesitation, he spoke once more, “it’s the anniversary of Diane leaving.”

Oh. So that’s why he’d asked to be with you today.

You’d never heard Joel say her name before. Sure, you’d seen her name written under a polaroid or two, but you’d never heard Joel reference her ever. Now that you thought about it, you didn’t really know what their deal was. Amicable exes? Divorcees? Was Joel a widower? You felt awful that you’d gone this far into a relationship and still didn’t know anything about his last significant one. 

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, not completely sure how to react. You mainly wanted to get a gauge on Joel’s reaction–just how upset was he? Did he want to talk about it? Or just get the importance of the day out in the open?

“It’s just… Today feels like that day in a lot of ways.”

You nodded slowly, still not exactly sure of how to approach the situation. You thought back to all of the times he’d been there to support you when you were having a rough day, and ended up asking aloud, “is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” 

“Maybe just listening, if that’s okay. It helps to talk about it,” he paused. “The rolls smell done. I’ll go get them,” with that, he was off to the kitchen, barely giving you time to react, or even protest his departure.

He clearly wanted to talk, but just wasn’t completely ready to do so at that moment. You could listen. You could be the best damn listener on the planet if that was what Joel needed from you. No matter what he revealed to you today, you were determined to make Joel feel comfortable, and know that whatever he was going through, he wasn’t alone—just as he’d shown you in the past.

By the time he came back to the living room, Joel offered you a plate with an iced cinnamon roll and acted like everything was normal. He sat back down next to you, stole a bite from your plate, then buried his nose right back into his novel.

You respected his right to process his emotions in any way he saw fit. All you could do was be a good partner, and offer whatever he needed from you to feel better, like he’d done for you so many times before. 

While you were fine with spending your day cuddled up on the sofa and reading, you were also aware that there were a good amount of house chores that were calling your name. Upon mentioning these tasks, Joel insisted on helping out, which was how you two landed in the laundry room, laughing at something stupid that had happened to you this week. 

While you loaded light clothes into your washer, Joel suddenly caught you off guard with a question that was a far cry from the banter you’d just been having only moments before. 

“Is it… are you okay with me talking about it?”

By it you could only assume he meant the giant elephant of a woman in the room. 

“Of course,” you turned to him, offering sympathetic eyes. 

“She left just a few months after Sarah was born,” Joel busied himself by pouring out laundry detergent and fabric softeners. “I just woke up one morning to an empty bed and a note in the kitchen saying she was leaving, she wasn’t coming back, and not to look for her.”

You were taken aback by the cruelty of such an abrupt ending, especially with such a young infant. You couldn’t imagine being put in those circumstances so unexpectedly. 

Joel casually poured the respective liquids into their proper places in the machine, then turned it on. “It was a day just like this. The nursery had a nice, big window that we put a rocking chair in front of. Sarah liked looking at the stars when she was younger, it always helped to calm her down. I remember holding her in that chair and bawling my eyes out while she cried too, and with all the rain against the window… it felt like the Earth was crying right along with us.”

You weren’t sure what to say or how to react, but it seemed like Joel was prepared to move right on, quickly changing the subject as he led you out of the laundry room. 

Baking cinnamon rolls had left a lot of dishes in the sink, but luckily for you, you had an extra set of hands to help you out. Joel was on rinsing duty, and you were on loading.

You quickly found your rhythm, as you often did with partnered tasks. You worked quietly while loading the dishes, letting the music from your speaker fill up the silence, but it was obvious Joel was lost in thought.

Eventually, he quietly began to speak again, “I kept trying to make sense of her leaving. I knew that postpartum depression hit her really hard, and that she was barely sleeping at night because of how often Sarah was crying. Sarah was a really sensitive, fussy baby. She’d told me how she’d felt a few times, and I always kinda thought things would just pass. Every new parent hits that roadbump where they just can’t see themselves doing this thing forever, right? Then, she just left. I thought maybe she just needed a few days away, and that she’d be back. But days went by, then weeks, then it had been a month, and it was still just Sarah and I.”

“Did she ever come back around?” you asked, setting down the last dish into the sink, then closing the machine.

“Never heard from her again.”

You closed the distance between you and the man, wrapping him in as tight of a hug that you could manage. 

“I’m so sorry,” you muttered into his shirt as he melted into your embrace. “I can’t even imagine how painful and stressful that was.”

As a mother, you couldn’t imagine abandoning your child; the tiny human being you spent nine months carrying, and would spend a lifetime loving. But as a human, you understood the stress of being the parent of a newborn. Waking up every few hours because your baby is crying and you’ve tried everything to get her to stop but she just… won’t. Paired with postpartum depression, which you were no stranger to, you could understand the circumstances that led Diane to feeling like she had no other option but to leave. But that didn’t, in any way, make it the right thing to do. 

As you held Joel, a sound you hadn’t ever heard from him escaped his lips, wracking his body. A guttural cry that had clearly been trapped deep inside of him for the longest time had suddenly escaped as he recalled an event that had clearly changed his life. 

You stood in the kitchen holding him for what felt like forever, when he finally pulled away, wiping his face a little bit. 

“Thank you,” was all that he managed to get out.

You laid next to him in bed after a rather emotionally loaded session of lovemaking, trying to catch your breath as the two of you recovered from the underlying emotional and physical aftermath of your fornication. As Joel spooned you, a question lingered on your mind. 

“Do you still love her?” you asked, keeping your eyes forward on the wall. You wanted to say you were sure he had moved on, but these types of situations were rather nuanced. There were just some bonds that regardless of time or circumstances, people continued to hold on to. 

“No,” he answered clearly. “I don’t hate her, either. I guess I just understand her. But that doesn’t make what she put me or Sarah through any better.” 

You slipped your hand down to where his were currently laying on your stomach, and you set one on top of his. 

“I’m not jealous, I’m just curious. Do you ever miss her?” 

“I used to,” he sighed, the close breath blowing some hairs on your neck. “I don’t anymore.”

Eventually, your laundry was dry, meaning you two needed to get out of bed and get to folding. 

“She has a new family, now,” he said out of the blue, as he folded up a pair of your pajama pants. “Husband, kids, dog, the full nine yards. Tommy found her Facebook a few years ago, but I still haven’t looked. I don’t really know why.”

You didn’t really know why either, but you knew exactly the feeling he was experiencing. Seeing your ex who you’d invested so much into and had a child with move on with someone was a particularly gut wrenching feeling. You could only imagine how much worse it was in Joel’s scenario, where Diane had abandoned him and their child, yet had a child and built another family elsewhere. 

“Does Sarah know?” you asked, putting a blouse onto a hanger. 

“Bits and pieces. She kinda just accepted that her mom’s not in the picture, but doesn’t know why she left or anything about her mom’s new family,” Joel finished up with his basket, then began to help you with yours. “Maybe when she’s older. Old enough to understand that it isn’t her fault and that these things just… happen sometimes.”

“I guess,” you frowned as you grabbed your last article of clothing and hung it up. “It shouldn’t have happened, though. Neither of you deserved to be abandoned.”

“It was gonna happen one way or another,” Joel shrugged, putting your baskets away. “Our relationship had been on the rocks even before Diane became pregnant. If it wasn’t then, it would be later. I’m just glad it happened early enough that Sarah doesn’t remember. You in the mood for a coffee?”

His words gave you a bit of whiplash, but you accepted the offer of a warm drink regardless. 

You sat at your table, stirring your drink as Joel sat down across from you. 

“Good, right?” he asked. “I think I’ve officially nailed the way you like your coffee.”

“It’s pretty good,” you admitted, taking a sip from a mug that Chloe had decorated in her school’s art class. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Good. It is one,” you hummed. 

It was clear that his mood was slightly improving the more that he talked about his experience. You wondered just how much of this information he’d shared with anyone else before you, as he told the story as if he were confessing something for the first time ever. 

“I’ve never told anyone this much about it,” he confessed. “I’m glad that of all the people I could’ve told, it ended up being you.”

“Joel, I,” the words popped into your head, but died on your tongue. “I care about you so much. I know this can’t be easy to talk about, so thank you for sharing this with me,” you squeezed his hands across the table. 

“Thank you for being so supportive. I also care about you a lot. So much that it scares me. Especially knowing that you could lose everything in a literal night,” he admitted. 

“Oh Joel,” you said softly. “I’m also scared. I’m always so scared that I’ll lose you and Sarah and this little blended family we’ve made. But if that’s the price I pay for… caring about you so much, I’m okay with being afraid.”

Joel looked at you like he had something to say, but instead sat there quietly for a moment, processing your words. “Do you want to watch an episode of The Bachelorette?” 

“Is that even a question? C’mon,” you stood up.

The two of you cuddled up on the couch once again, this time with a much lighter feeling in the room, partially due to what Joel had confessed to you, and partially due to the absolutely ridiculous content playing on your television.

“I’m sad that I had to go through what I had to go through, but I’m glad that it led me to you,” Joel said out of the blue, resting his forehead against yours.

You were glad that he found you too.

Five

It wasn’t every day that the forces of the universe seemed to be on your side, but for some reason, today was one of those days. 

When you’d been called into your boss’ office that morning, a pit formed in your stomach. You’d figured that the day you were going to be laid off was coming, especially following the whole promotion fiasco. As you walked into her office, you fully intended to be walking out without a job. 

Except, that wasn’t what happened. You had been promoted, and promoted into a position even higher than the one you’d previously been gunning after. 

Once you found out, you had to fight the urge to skip out of your boss’s office, singing and dancing with joy. Instead, you fought that urge by closing the door to your office, and calling Joel. 

“Hey honey, what’s up?” he answered casually. 

“Joel, they promoted me! And it’s an even better position than what I was trying to get before!” you squealed. 

Joel cheered from over the phone, making you somehow smile even harder. “Congratulations! I’m so proud of you. I can’t think of anyone who deserves this more than you.”

“Oh my god, stop it,” you giggled, putting your hands up to your warm cheeks. 

“No, I’m serious,” Joel countered. “I know a lot of hard workers, and none of them work as hard as you. You’ve sacrificed so much to get here and it’s finally paid off.”

“Thank you, Joel,” you had more to say, but you decided to keep it to yourself. Mainly, how did you get so lucky to end up with a man like him? 

“Are you busy tonight?” he asked. 

“I’m just dropping Chloe off at my mom’s, then I should be free for the evening. Why?”

“Why don’t you come over to my place so we can celebrate? You picked the right time to get a promotion. Sarah’s going to her uncle’s for the weekend.”

“Sounds good to me,” you hummed. “I’ll text you when I’m heading over.”

“Alright. Again, congratulations! So proud.”

You hung up and attempted to get back to work, but you were far too excited to focus for too long. You somehow made it to the end of the work day and to Joel’s house without spontaneously combusting from joy.

When you walked in, you were immediately met with the smells of one of your favorite candles, mixed with the mouthwatering scent of fragrant coming from the kitchen. 

“Joel, I’m home!” you announced, making your way to the kitchen only to find it very dressed up. The lights were dimmed, a crisp white table cloth rested on the table, and a gorgeous arrangement of flowers sat in a vase in the middle of the table, right next to a rather nice looking bottle of champagne. 

Joel was finishing up plating something spectacular as you came in. “Please, have a seat,” he directed. You didn’t need to be told twice. 

With the arrangement of the table, you almost felt like you were sitting at a fancy little restaurant, but better, knowing all the effort Joel had put into making the table look this way.  He brought over two plates, set one over at his seat and one in front of you, before leaning down and kissing you gently. 

“Congratulations. I am so, so, so proud of you,” he said after finally pulling away, reaching for the bottle of champagne on the table.

“If anyone in the world deserves good things,” he turned away from you so that he could safely pop the bottle. “It’s you. I’m glad you’re finally getting the recognition that you deserve.”

With the bottle opened, he poured you out a glass, then poured himself some. You lifted up your glass and Joel mirrored you.

“Cheers,” you said with a grin, tapping your glasses together, then taking a sip. Once you finished drinking, Joel leaned in for one more kiss before he situated himself back into his chair. 

“I think you deserve a promotion from best boyfriend in the world to best boyfriend in the universe,” you softly laughed, looking down at your plate. 

“Do I? I think anyone would celebrate the person they…” he paused for just a split second, and you probably wouldn’t have noticed it if you weren’t paying such close attention. “The person they’re sharing their life with if they made a big accomplishment like this.”

“Honey, you’d be very surprised. I can think of at least one person who would view this promotion as a bad thing.”

“Well, don’t think about them right now. This is an amazing thing, and we’re celebrating you today. Not an insecure man with a Napoleon complex and a small penis.”

You laughed out loud, nearly choking on a bubbly sip of champagne. 

“You’re right,” you picked up your fork and knife, reading to dig into the amazing looking meal in front of you. “Thank you for this, Joel. You always make me feel so appreciated and cherished. You’re truly one of a kind.”

He shook his head bashfully at the compliment, eating right along with you. It was almost cute how he never seemed to accept compliments, but certainly deserved them more than basically any other person that you knew. 

“You always show me how much you care about me. It’s only fair that I do the same.”

“You’re so romantic,” you sighed. “How can I guarantee that I can keep you around forever?”

“Just keep being you, I guess. That’s all I’ve really ever wanted.”

How did you get so lucky? How did you manage to hit the jackpot on men with Joel, almost let it slip through your fingers not once, but twice, and still managed to end up with one of your favorite people in the world? 

However it ended up happening, you certainly weren’t mad at it, and as you sat together, you hoped for things never to change. 

Plus One

Given that you practically lived at each other’s homes now, you often spent your mornings together getting ready to take on the day. It was cute how you both had your own little routines and were able to coexist in a tiny little space. 

Today, you stood in Joel’s bathroom, washing your face as the mirror across from you began to become progressively more foggy from the heat of Joel’s shower. 

“My hair is gonna be so frizzy,” you muttered to yourself as you rubbed moisturizer into your skin. 

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to come in here with me,” Joel shot back from the shower, turning the water off. 

“Whatever,” you grumbled, getting back to work on your face as Joel dried himself off and wrapped a towel around his waist. 

“You’re so cute when you’re grumpy in the morning,” he commented as he approached you, standing next to you at the sink. 

“I am not grumpy,” you argued, then paused once Joel gave you a very disbelieving expression. “Fine. I can get a little irritable in the morning. Especially when someone’s boiling hot showers make my hair get all frizzy.”

“I wonder who that someone is?” Joel looked around the room in faux confusion. 

“Ugh, shut up. You are such a dad,” you fought back laughter, but you couldn’t really help the smile that appeared on your lips. 

“Shutting up,” Joel acknowledged, grabbing his razor and some shaving cream to touch up some of his facial hair. You began to brush your teeth, focusing on yourself in the mirror to make sure that you were making your dentist proud. 

Your eyes eventually migrated and were meeting Joel’s in the mirror. You flashed him a big, foamy grin, and he immediately broke into hysterics, setting the razor down so he didn’t cut himself while laughing so hard. 

“Really?” he asked between laughs. “While I’m shaving?”

“Sorry,” you shrugged with a self-satisfied smirk. 

“You are such a dork,” Joel sighed as he calmed himself down, leaning against the counter as he began to work on shaving his face once more. “Ugh, I love you,” the words seemed to come out of his mouth involuntarily, if the horrified look on his face told you anything. 

It seemed like the whole house stopped after Joel said it, the dripping from the showerhead ceasing, the faint buzz of the air conditioner nowhere to be found, and the noises of your children downstairs coming to a halt.

You were shocked at the admission, and Joel seemed to be shocked that he’d said anything. 

Now that he’d mentioned it, you really did love Joel. You loved how he supported you, and how he treated your daughter like she was his own. You loved that he wasn’t afraid to fight for what he believed in, especially when that included socking your ex in the face. You loved his ability to be vulnerable with you, and the way that he seemed to always know what to say at the right time. You loved knowing that no matter how shitty of a day you’d had, Joel would always be there, ready to order your favorite foods and spoon you while decompressing with the worst, most trashy reality TV you could find. 

You’d spent all this time thinking that you’d never experience romantic love again, that romantic love was tumultuous and exhausting, when you’d been in love with Joel the whole time. 

You were one of those people who were meant to love and be loved. Joel had proven that much to you. 

“I love you too,” you confessed, toothpaste still obstructing your mouth.

Maybe love wasn't so bad after all.

[rikisrosejing]

long fingers. park seonghwa

trigger warnings :: cursing, nsfw content (finger fucking to be specific..),

please read!! :: this is my first work, so i’m sorry if it has typos or any kind of grammatical errors in it!! i really hope you enjoy it and please let me know if i left out any trigger warnings!!

you and seonghwa managed to escape from the crazy saesang that had been following you two for the longest time. he shut the door behind you and sighed, running a hand through his silky albino hair.

“fuuuuck..” you heard him sigh out as he threw his lv coat on his bed. you felt tempted to reach out and feel his hair for the 100th time this hour, but held back as you knew this was a serious situation.

“hwa..” you mumbled softly before he pulled you into his warm embrace. he only cuddled you like this when he was super overwhelmed with the familar sense od stress and anxiety. seonghwa leaned in and gently pinned you to the door, kissing your lips like a desperate puppy, wanting, no-, needing to be loved and shown affection.

“baby, stay here for tonight, i need hugs and warmth from you..” he whispered into your hair, inhaling your vanilla perfume he had craved everyday, and now he got to smell it’s refreshing essence.

“mm, sure.” you replied with no hesitance, knowing that he was overworked and stressed. seonghwa sighed happily before wrapping an arm around your waist and leading you to his bed, away from the door. you two spent the next few hours watching your favorite k-drama without a single care in the world as you pressed up against his chest as if it was the last time you were going to do so.

the show had some rather provocative scenes in it, making him horny as fuck. his hand started to disappear into your shorts as the series progressed and eventually slipped into your already wet underwear. he chuckled softly and spoke up, “wet for me already.. how cute.”

you squirmed under his touch, whining. “baby, you know how i get whenever you touch me like this..” you whimpered out, your hips unwillingly rubbing against his large hand. you couldn’t deny how damp and soaked your panties were, so you tried pulling his hand away.

“oh no, baby, my hand is not going anywhere besides deep inside that adorable pussy of yours..” he stated firmly before pushing two digits easily inside your wet and ready folds. you gasp out loudly, clenching the bed sheets as he pumps his long fingers out and in.

“i didn’t know you were so sensitive..” he murmured, picking up the pace of his pumping. you were such a pathetic moaning, whimpering mess. “h-hah.. stop lying-..” you managed to gasp out.

“can my sweet princess take three of my digits?” you nodded needily, even though you knew you were almost at your limit. seonghwa smirked slightly as he hummed and rather forcefully shoved another one of his fingers inside your clenching, drenched pussy. “h-hngh..!” you moaned as you gripped your pillow, knowing it would do nothing to help with your current state. “cum for me, will you..?” he asked softly, a sharp ass contrast from what his fingers were doing to you right now.

nonetheless, you whimpered out loud before cumming all over his hand. you look over at him and see him licking his hand like there was no tomorrow.

“that’s my girl.. you absolutely taste divine.” he said with an innocent smirk.

[melodygatesauthor]

The Fractured Moon - Part 4

Yandere! Moon Boys X f!Reader

PLEASE READ TAGS/DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS FIC. THERE ARE DARK THEMES!

Not Beta Read - Series Masterlist

Summary:

After Steven's ruthless beating, you need time to recover, and the boys are going to show you how nice they can treat you, if only you'll let them, and as long as you behave.

Tags/Warnings (for entire series):

Disclaimer: I created this fic for the sole purpose of exploring the yandere thing as a fanfiction "kink" in a safe way and in a safe space. I in no way would want this to happen to myself or someone else. This fic is not a reflection of my moral beliefs. - Further, this fic is not an accurate representation of people with DID (dissociative identity disorder). These men happen to have DID and I'm putting them in a situation where they would have an unhealthy obsession with the reader character. NSFW, Stalking, non-con, somnophilia, rape, mentions of murder, drugged sex, kidnapping, manipulation, dacryphilia, voyeurism, threats of physical harm, copious amounts of sex, copious amounts of unprotected sex, blood, unrealistic refractory period, biting, slapping, hitting, reader is smol, choking. This is a Dead Dove Do Not Eat situation.

Word Count: 3.4k

Marc was still afraid to take any unnecessary risks, so he kept your wrists tied to the dining room chair just in case. Marc fantasized about a time that you would be in complete submission to them. He dreamt of how nice it would be to wake with you in their bed, curled up into his chest while you slept soundly. He thought about what a wonder it would be to have you kissing him and begging him to make you feel good. He wanted you to want them.

Steven was delusional and Marc knew that. Maybe he was too, he thought. He wondered if it was delusional to think that one day he could have all those things. Every time he looked at you he felt a stab of guilt in his gut. When did things get so fucked up? This wasn’t the kind of person they were, and whenever Marc’s sanity broke through the barrier of his fantasy, he thought about letting you go. But then he thought about you out there where anyone could look at you, talk to you, touch you.

No.

“Your wounds are healing nicely honey,” he said, breaking the otherwise deafening silence in the dining room.

You nodded, still feeling a bit defeated from the beating Steven had dealt you over a week ago. Was it a week ago? You couldn’t remember how long it had been. It was hard to keep track of time there. When Marc mentioned the bruises you could still feel the sting left behind from Steven’s lashing. Your eyes darted to the floor quickly, not wanting to think about it.

“Hey,” Marc’s hand went out, finger tucking under your chin and turning your gaze back to meet his. “Jake and I told you we’d keep you safe, right? Remember? We told you we’d handle Steven? And he’s been much better to you, hasn’t he?”

You nodded slowly, bottom lip trembling while you thought about what his brother had done to you. Even with his and Jake’s reassurance that no further - serious - harm would come to you by Steven’s hands, you still didn’t dare to even touch yourself when the urge arose. If Steven’s goal was to frighten you into obedience, it had worked.

Every night, sometimes multiple times a night, Steven would fill you so full you were stuffed and dripping his cum for the rest of the evening. He was often the first person you’d see in the mornings too, taking your body and bending it to suit his needs. You were exhausted most days, and he showed no signs of stopping.

You couldn’t deny the sweetness that came with his insatiable sex drive though.

“Oh darling, you’re so pretty,” he’d say with his forehead against you, the tip of his nose touching yours. “I…I know you’re so sore and I’m so sorry but, mm-fuh–”

And then he’d come, spilling his hot white spend into your aptly stretched hole. His hips would stutter, and he’d look at you as though no one else in the world existed. Once in a while you even forgot yourself and felt tempted to reach out and touch his face, like you might want to lean forward and kiss those hooded, sex drunk eyelids of his.

But you resisted. 

The part of you that still wanted to fight for survival was stronger than that, and it was screaming inside of you to stay resilient. Sometimes Steven made you feel good though. When you were particularly achy, and full of so much cum you couldn’t hold anymore, he would kneel at the foot of the bed, drape your legs over his broad shoulders, and start cleaning and slurping his spend right out of you. He was better at that than the other two, and when he looked up at you from between your thighs with glossy lips and shoulders heaving with heavy breaths, you had to shake yourself from that small sense of adoration you falsely felt for him. 

He kidnapped you, he raped you, he beat you, you would remind yourself like a mantra over and over again until you were sick of it. You still needed to fight to survive this. You couldn’t accept that this was the end of the line for you. 

“M-Marc?” you whispered.

His entire face lit up to hear you speak his name in such a soft tone. Marc’s hand cupped your cheek gently, as though a firmer grip might break you. His thumb brushed over your skin softly, such a gentle touch for someone so monstrous.

“Yeah honey?”

You gulped, looking around to make sure that neither Steven nor Jake were going to show up before making your inquiry. If Steven, especially, heard you, you’d be in for another harsh reminder of your position and you knew it.

“Can I have those pills again?” You thought about how much they eased your pain before, and how sleepy they made you. If you were going to continue to survive, you would need something to help you get through for now until you came up with a plan.

“Oh, baby, last time I gave you those, Jake and I agreed with Steven that it wasn’t fair to him. I’m sorry I can’t–”

“Please,” you looked at him with such desperation it almost made him flinch.

Your eyes welled until they were nearly spilling over. If you were being honest, you were laying on the theatrics a bit, but another part of you was genuinely in need of something to ease the ache you felt when Steven made you a glorified sex doll. Marc finally nodded slowly and gave you a sympathetic half-smirk.

“Yeah, I’ll give you half a pill to hide in your bedside table. That should relax you enough without knocking you out. You can take it when you know Steven’s coming just…don’t let him see it, alright?” Marc raised his brow in emphasis. “I’m not worried for my sake but you…you know how he can get.”

You nodded eagerly, “yes,” a sigh of relief left your entire body, “yes, I promise.”

“Okay, I’ll get you one after you’re finished eating.”

Dinner was one of Marc’s favorite times of the day because it was one of the few times he got you all to himself. They each had a role to play in your day: waking up with Steven, the greedy little shit wanting you both before sleep and after. Marc took care of your bathing and meals, making sure each time he had you was nicer for you than the time before. Then there was Jake, giving you a firm hand in the early afternoon to make sure you learned to mind, and then making you play dress up and sit on his lap in his study shortly after dinner.

Marc liked to think he was different from the other two. He liked to think you needed him, like he was taking care of you and you wouldn’t be able to survive in this house without him. He was protecting you - as much as he could for being one of the three who did this to you - . But Marc felt justified in that he wasn’t hurting you, not really. He never struck you, and he wouldn’t. When you were afraid of the other two and looking for someone to comfort you, he would be your safe space.

Marc took a strawberry and lifted it to your mouth, watching intently as your precious lips parted to bite into the ripe fruit. He chuckled watching some of the juice drip down your chin.

“My messy little girl,” he cooed, wiping the juice from your chin and popping his thumb into your mouth.

His brow furrowed, feeling your tongue roll over his thumb. Marc’s dick sprang to life almost instantly while you teased him. No…he was starting to think like Steven. You weren’t teasing, you were just cleaning him off, but still…what if you knew exactly what you were doing to him? It was always possible that you wanted him but were just playing coy…right?

“That’s very good honey,” Marc pulled his hand back, “do you want some more?”

You nodded, feeding into his delusion that you did want this.

Marc moaned this time when you bit into the strawberry, more juice dripping down your chin and landing on your chest. He leaned in toward your face, his tongue darting out to lap up the mess and bring it to your lips. You let him in, and he wondered if you actually wanted to kiss him, or if you were just behaving because you were afraid of what may happen if you didn’t.

He didn’t really care at the moment, because you kissed like you wanted it. Your tongue melted with his, and he swore he heard a breathy whine roll up through your throat only to be muffled by the wet sounds of your mouths moving together.

“Fuck, baby,” Marc breathed as he pulled back, breaking the kiss plopping into his chair across from yours. “You’re so…” He couldn’t think of a word sufficient enough to describe the way you made him feel.

Despite yourself, the arousal was building between your legs after that kiss. Something about Marc did make things feel a little less horrible, even if you knew you shouldn’t feel that way. You were feeling yourself giving in, and you hated it.

You realized now how thirsty you were, like your mouth was dry and filled with cotton.

“P-please,” your voice was still a soft croak in the otherwise silent room. 

You looked at the glass full of red wine next to the rest of your meal. You gulped, looking back over at Marc and nodding. He smiled, bringing the glass to your lips and pouring it into your mouth. He started tipping the cup just a little before you drank faster and faster until it was gone. You breathed like you’d run a mile, licking the remnants of the sweet drink from your lips.

“Jeez honey, do you want some more?” He chuckled.

You nodded, watching him as he filled the glass once more and you chugged all of it down quickly. Marc having his way with you was inevitable, and since you knew that, you were going to make yourself at least a little numb to it. Perhaps you could even enjoy yourself without feeling completely guilty. If you were a bit buzzed then maybe you could forgive yourself later when you enjoyed the way he touched you.

Marc shouldn’t like you drunk, but he did. Something about how much happier you seemed to be made him feel at peace. It didn’t take you long to get there either, he could see your eyes start to droop a bit while you looked at him after a few more moments passed.

“Baby, I’m going to take these off your wrists and ankles,” he said, referring to the straps holding you against the chair. “I don’t think you’d be able to go anywhere even if you wanted to.”

He let out a lighthearted chuckle as he finished freeing your limbs. You stood up immediately, stretching your arms and legs to get the blood flow back through your body. You stumbled forward, and Marc stood fast to catch you. God you were so tiny. Sometimes he forgot just how small you were compared to them.

“Easy, easy,” he said, laughing while you leaned against his chest. “Let’s go sit you down in the living room.”

He helped you - basically carried you - to the living room, setting you down on the couch and sitting himself beside you. It didn’t take much, just a little nudge with his hand to get you to lay down on his lap. Marc rubbed your cheek softly with his thumb, looking down at your eyes and the way the fire from the crackling fireplace reflected in your pupils so prettily.

“There you go, just rest honey. If you get tired I’m sure Jake would understand.”

“Speak for yourself, pendejo.”

Marc didn’t reply, still certain he wanted to keep that insanity from you for now. Maybe once you were better adjusted he would feel more comfortable sharing more about his personal life, but until then, he would only subject you to one crazy thing at a time.

You shifted your face against his lap, your cheek brushing against the obvious tent he’d pitched from when he kissed you earlier. He didn’t think it would go away any time soon, but he could take care of himself later, or maybe even ignore and let Steven deal with it when he was fronting. It was a shock to him though, when you picked your head up and placed a small peck on the clothed shaft of his dick through his jeans.

You did that all on your own.

“Baby, what the hell are you…oh shit…”

You brushed your lips over it, feeling enticed by the scent of his musk. Obviously the wine was making you feel something, maybe something you wanted subconsciously, or maybe it was purely a physical need induced by the arousal building in your core. You felt hot, like your body was made up of pure lust and nothing else. You hated yourself and wished that you hadn’t drank the wine, even if it would make your night easier.

None of it mattered now, because you did drink the wine, and you were feeling yourself grow hotter by the second at the thought of giving Marc pleasure. You fucking wanted him, and you couldn’t loathe yourself more over it. You slipped off the couch to your knees, looking up at him from between his legs and feeling nothing but pure desire for him when you did.

Who the fuck am I? You thought to yourself.

Marc couldn’t believe his eyes. You were on your knees between his legs, a sight he was certain he wouldn’t ever see, not this early on in your life of captivity anyway. Your little hands fumbled with his belt, managing to slowly pull the leather strap from the buckle before you started to unbutton his pants. His mouth hung open while he watched you tug his jeans and briefs to his thighs, letting his cock spring free. 

You looked at it like never before, leaning forward and giving the length of him a small kitten lick all the way from the base to the tip. Marc couldn’t breathe while he watched you. He knew that you could fit it in your mouth, you’d done it with Jake the night they took you, but this time was different. This time, you were acting like you wanted it.

“Take your time honey, I know your little mouth can hardly handle us,” he cooed, reminding you that you didn’t need to rush.

You gulped, lips parting slowly as you stared at his leaking tip. Once more you flicked your tongue out and licked the bead of precum off of him. He wondered if you even realized that you hummed as if you liked the taste. He reached a hand behind your head, not to pressure you, but instead to guide you. Marc wanted to make this as comfortable for you as possible, especially considering it wasn’t very often that you showed eagerness or compliance to satisfy their needs.

You opened your lips wide, leaning up over his cock before lowering your head down around it. The second Marc felt the warmth of your mouth surround him it was like the breath punched out from his lungs.

“Oh…god honey,” he growled through clenched teeth. “F-fuck.”

You didn’t take it all, and he hadn’t expected you to. He was impressed that you even made it to the halfway mark before the head of his cock was probing against your throat. Maybe one of the other two would stretch your mouth out more and teach you how to use it, but it wasn’t going to be Marc, not today.

Maybe it was the fact that you were drunk, or maybe it was that you liked the way Marc was breathing and whining, but you couldn't ignore the feeling of your aching clit any longer. You put your finger between your legs, still using your other hand to hold onto Marc’s thigh for stability, and you started touching yourself. It was embarrassing how wet you were over someone who had done such horrible things to you.

“Does it feel that good honey? You like sucking my cock that much?”

Marc was mesmerized by your eyes and the way you furrowed your brow while you sucked him off. That was the same expression he recognized from before when he’d made you come around his cock. You moaned around his dick, an acceptable answer to his question.

You know you look so pretty like that,” he nodded, breath blowing out through his pursed lips while he tried to hold back from fucking your throat wide open. “Sit back for me, honey.”

With a loud ‘pop’ you let his cock fall out of your mouth and you sat back on your heels. Your eyes were stuck on his throbbing length, mind still fuzzy with arousal and intoxication, feeling yourself wanting nothing more than to have it back in your mouth. You hadn’t stopped circling around your clit with your fingers, your wet slick making it easy to move around just right. Another bead of precum trickled teasingly down Marc’s shaft, dripping onto the floor and leaving you salivating.

“You really want more, hm?” He asked, grabbing the thick base of himself firmly and slowly starting to jerk himself off in front of you.

Yes, you thought to yourself. You didn’t know why, and you were still a little mad at yourself for appearing so eager, but yes, you fucking wanted it.

Marc couldn’t believe his eyes when you nodded, your gaze still trained on his swollen dick while he held onto it. He gave it another firm stroke, slowly, up to the tip. When he squeezed around the top some slick, clear precum dripped down onto his fingers. With his free hand he beckoned you back over, holding the back of your head and positioning his tip at your lips.

“Open, please, quick-fuck-fuck-fuhhh!"

All it took was the brush of your little tongue against the backside of his leaking head before he lost it. He moaned loudly, surprising even himself as he squeezed his cock, aiming the shots of spend over your tongue, coating your mouth in a layer of white. Marc couldn’t imagine a better view than you looking up at him with your mouth wide open as he fed you every last drop he had. 

You came the very second you tasted his cum on your tongue. The delicious hot ropes ran down your throat while you took what he gave you, and you rubbed your clit faster, feeling yourself go weak over his taste. A series of choking gasps were lost in the living room while you felt your cunt contracting around nothing, your hot arousal gushing and dripping down your thighs.

In your mind-numbed state you couldn’t hold your body up anymore and so you fell to the ground in a heap, breathing heavily and letting the soothing warmth of your intoxication wash over you. 

“Someone had too much to drink,” Marc commented with a soft chuckle, tucking his dick back in his pants before lifting you into his arms with a contented sigh.

His heart leapt with a sense of joy and love for you when you held onto him, tucking your face into his broad chest and nuzzling against him. You murmured something nonsensical and unintelligible, inspiring another laugh out of Marc. He wished with all his heart that this was the first of many nights that you would start to warm up to them; that you were finally accepting your place and finding peace with your fate.

He hoped so deeply that it was true. He needed it to be true.

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter (Coming Soon)

Moon Knight Masterlist

[hiemaldesirae]

i have less than 24 hours left before i have to go through one of the most stressful days of my life so. heres a list of my fav radiostatic fic recs in no particular order

clarification: by radiostatic i mean fics where vox is 100% not the dom in the relationship. most of these dont contain explicit sex though, and im not recommending any straight porn fics here because you can easily find those with a click and search through the bottom vox tag lmao

most of these fics are unfinished, so be warned that i will not take accountability if you get attached to these without them being finished properly. in fact ill just laugh at you because then we'll be suffering together

now, that aside- starting off strong with some of the more popular fics:

RHTVS / Radio Healed the Video Star by Aspiring_Forest_Witch

notes: LONG fucking fic. like this guys almost 700k words long fic. one of the best things ive ever read in my life though and it has a plotline thats frankly more engaging than the actual showing of hazbin on amazon. so. you know. if you have the time to read it Please do you wont regret it

Unraveling Emotions by Xaelei

notes: one of my favourite fics ever on god. started my brainrot for dad!husk, portrays one of the most scrumptious radiostatic dynamics and is generally so very well written that i might end up trying to recreate one of the scenes in comic form. genuinely in love with this fic and im so glad i can say i was the first comment on this fic because my God its such a treat to see new chapters drop for this. unfortunately i havent had the time to write out a detailed comment as of now but if someone wants to let the author know that im still in love with their fic and will continue supporting it until i drop dead go ahead for me

Safe with Me by rillyrillo

notes: the prequel and main fic of this series is human radiostatic, though the sequel is set in hell. it comes with gorgeous gorgeous art and frankly one of the most exhilirating endings ive ever had the pleasure of witnessing play out. i recommend you guys check out their other fics too, the art continues in them + their radiostatic is written wonderfully across all universes!

A Month of Rut by Vylad

notes: this fic is very self indulgent to me. i love the way radiostatic is written in this one because theyre very soft and sweet, but others may not prefer it if theyre looking for freak4freak radiostatic. if you just want something to indulge in and relax with at the end of a heavy day though this is my #1 rec. i read this sometimes when i find myself crying at night lmao

Down, Up, and Back Down by CowboyEnthusiast

notes: made me sob like a baby. 10/10 no notes whatsoever read it for yourself because you WILL not regret it. i genuinely am always at a loss for words whenever i reread this because it is among the most gutwrenching but beautiful and poetic works that ive ever read and i think it deserves some recognition

Mind the Gap by ZLynn

notes: again, to reiterate, i do very much dislike the abusive!staticmoth portrayal i see in a lot of fics. but in this one... it's written so perfectly, i can definitely see it actually happening. i enjoy the way that val does still seem to care about vox, albeit in his own twisted way that eventually breaks and fractures their love and trust, and its just. Ugh. So fucking good

+ with the less popular but still wonderful depictions of radiostatic that i love to indulge in:

i'll give you a show (cause it helps fill the seats) by dead_and_dreaming

notes: absolutely shameless plug from me for my dear mk's work because i cant stop thinking about the way that she's portrayed al here. its actually insane how fucked up that stupid little deer is and i just. i really fucking love the way that their alastor is written, it's genuinely probably my Number One depiction of alastor ever. i demand more of this stupid little freak RIGHT NOW!!!!

Any of the fics by Rachello344 in the Hazbin Hotel Fandom Tag on their profile

notes: so remember when i told you guys i wouldnt be linking straight porn. looks away... okay in my defense though i read the smut for the characterization and their unique dynamics. its sooo interesting to see how their radiostatic is explored here and im honestly refreshed by the depiction of their relationship. im here for it !!!

The Read 'Em and Weep Series by TooManyPseudonyms

notes: so from what i was able to piece together (everything flies over my head when im reading, forgive me for my low media literacy) this is an au set before the hotel where (in the first work) al and vox are in a qpr relationship. in the second work this evolves into a romantic relationship, and the exploration of their dynamic through this is just... Yeah. please read it its 100% worth your time and so underrated it hurts my heart

Uneasy by Saezs

notes: this fic is one of the first radiostatic fics i read (the others being RHTVS and... i think i tried the 666 series, but it didnt appeal to me lol) and its actually just wonderful. i really love saezs's genderfluid vox and how supportive the other vees are of them <3 their portrayl of the characters puts a smile on my face whenever i reread their work

Heat Waves by HappyPRAWN

notes: i'll be fr dsmptsd hit me like a truck when i read the title but it is such an interesting debut! only at one chapter as of me making this post but the way the author wrote this is so engaging and it really makes me wonder what they have next in store for the fic

Do I have your attention now? by Chi_Chi25

notes: wow no way we have the same name... anyway ahem. ill be completely honest this ones a bit of a guilty pleasure for me. this fic is a bit fragmented and short, so for people who click off fics when they see imperfect grammar this one may not be for you. however if you can look past that, it has an engaging storyline and quite the juicy concept :)

Killer Ex by FanGirl48

notes: gorgeous, gorgeous little human! radiostatic oneshot. i love the relationship that vox and al have here... the reasons why they both stayed away from each other even though theyre still so very clearly down bad for each other... anyway. i think about this one a lot and i still go back to reread it sometimes lol

Negotiations by FanGirl48

notes: i didnt realize until i started making this list that this fic was also written by fangirl48.... go off queen keep feeding us (me). this one was a fic recommended to me initially by link nonny, and i can 100% vouch for how good it is. its got appletv interactions, radiostatic plus lucifer trying to navigate heaven, angels... basically everything needed for a very varied and well packed with flavour story

The diary of a Serial Killer by ShippersCave

notes: okay im running out of brain juice at this point but. yeah this fic is soooo self indulgent to me. this ones another human au, with al as a serial killer and vox as the journalist trying to conduct interviews with him. its got SUCH a good dynamic between al and vox, i encourage you guys to check it out and give it a chance even if youre not really into human aus.

My heart's been pierced by Cupid by ShippersCave

notes: pirate/siren au !!!!!!!!! RAAHH !!!!! i dont have to say anything else for this if thats not enough to get you to click then i dont know what is

System Shutdown by Swoolie

notes: i cant believe i nearly forgot about this one LMAO... vox goes onto a temporary hiatus and everyone goes crazy about it. im not really sure if this counts as radiostatic frankly because of the way its tagged but its so good i think you should give it a read anyway

Together in Radio Static by Anonymous

notes: QPR media husbands radiostatic au !!!! i love this one especially because it opens off with vox slapping alastor across the face for leaving him LMAOO (deserved)

What Has Been by Tianren

notes: another human au (YEAH YEAH I KNOW. JUST HEAR ME OUT OKAY i swear im cooking) look, as someone with religious trauma deeper than i can properly express and the worlds fifteenth worst parental issues, the depiction of vox in this fic just really hits home. i really adore the exploration of voxs past and how the themes of religious guilt and cults are woven in so far- and it blends very seamlessly with their human au, despite the characters eccentricities

you're too sweet for me by awestruck_atrophy and moonbeanies

notes: basically, vox and al make a deal where vox tries to help him out of the shackles or whatever that are bound to him because of his stupid dumbass lusting for power. its very intriguing so far and i love the setup and worldbuilding the authors have done, so you should check it out if you want a unique perspective on radiostatics relationship

candlelight by curtailed

notes: the best way i can think of to describe this one is like... fake marriage but instead of fake marriage its. fake roommates??? the author probably puts it better than me tbh. its super interesting so far, i cant wait to see where this one is headed especially with how unique its premise is!

Zero Day by Anonymous

notes: this one is like those time regression manhwas. you know, the ones where the protag goes back in time and proceeds to try and avoid everyone who made their life miserable- only to fail because for some reason now they're paying attention to them more than they would have had they stayed the same person. its certainly very promising, though! i do love indulging in time regression stories, especially when the mc is someone i love like vox. i really cant wait to see which direction this one is headed in :)

Never as Good as the First Time by IComeForFanficsNowin403

notes: okay. so, uh. um. so- this one is in spanish. HOWEVER its premise (serial killer alastor meets television star (?? i think. its not quite clear) at a party hosted by rosie, moves into his neighborhood to keep an eye on the pretty prey) is just so unique i honestly think its worth the experience to pull out google translate and try living the machine translated life. really. give it a chance. also its got beautiful art to go along with, so.. you know. thats just a bonus!

+ honorary staticmoth and one-sided/past radiostatic fic rec:

Freak-A-Zoid by Femalefonzie

notes: this fic deserves every single piece of praise its ever gotten because good lord. its SO good. i was not seeing the radiostatic twist come in, but it *is* mostly staticmoth. and also a/b/o but i mean. who *hasnt* indulged in a little bit of a/b/o before honestly

there are other fics that i personally like to indulge in, but i frankly wouldnt recommend to anyone else because they're either the kinds of fics that i myself can only bring myself to read after ive spent 8 hours at work crying into my pillow and need to look at something entertaining, or when im starved of content and cant be bothered to cook myself so i pull out the translator and start going at it. (technically i should know how to read french by now but. urgh. anywway..)

[the-night-moves-writing]

Savior- The Check-ins (part two)

Winchesters x Sibling reader (sibling bond ONLY)

Castiel x Winchester Reader (Platonic)

Summary: When Castiel goes off the deep end and becomes god, he finds he still has a soft spot for the smallest Winchester

Chapter summary: When cas believes that the reader is not going to take care of themselves he begins checking in with making sure she will eat well  

Word Count: 1086

A/N: This is the second part to sisterhood i decided to make it into a series! Sorry this took so long i started failing class and got turned down from nursing school and my grandmother ended up in the hospital. Im not sure how many parts yet but i am currently working on part three at the time of uploading i really hope you guys enjoy! also if part three takes long that my bad

Loading up into the car after everything was said everyone was grieving something but it looked as if Dean had lost the most. I knew Dean shared a “profound bond” with Cas and seeing him turn into a creature of destruction was not great. I mean I guess it would be a creature of creation as he's now god maybe?? I'm not sure any longer all i've ever wanted was to be with my brothers and now if i do the only thing that brings me comfort and retreat into myself i might be taken from the and kept in heaven. I knew that whenever Cas would show up for these “check-ins) he would castigate every move my brothers made and every slight emotion I had. We have to be happy now it's the only way we can be together. If we fight, will Cas hurt my brothers or lock me in heaven? I finally looked up to see Dean staring at me in the rearview mirror, did he ask me something had i missed something. Dean's voice broke through my train of thought

“ Hey kiddo you don't look so great back there, are you ok?”

I wanted to break down at the sound of his voice, he sounded worried and sad.

“Im fine Dean, i mean about as fine as i can be” 

My voice cracking as i speak, my vocal cords still not use to the vibrations

“Are you sure you look a little pale and almost green”

Sam's voice made me realize that he was turned around in the passenger seat also staring at me it also brought upon the realization of nausea 

“I think I'm fine, I do feel a little sick though.” 

The boys looked concerned at how the situation had taken a toll on me 

“Where are we going though, i mean will the wards even still work to keep Cas out or … “ 

The boys seemed to become more worried as i said Cas’s name, i trailed off my voice hurting and there discomfort becoming noticeable 

Dean cleared his throat to speak up 

“We're gonna head to Bobby’s, we need somewhere for you to stay.”

My stomach fell into my feet as his words

“You're gonna leave me at Bobby’s?” 

Dean seemed to notice my sadness as did Sam

“We are gonna stay with you for a while, but i don’t think Cas will want us to bring you on hunts” 

Sam spoke up breaking the tension 

“Ok” 

I knew better than to fight with them when they had made a decision together like this it would be useless anyways, My life usually felt like this, like every situation i was in was insuperable. 

“ How about we stop and get you some food huh? You can finally tell us what you want.” 

I knew Dean was trying to make the situation less intense by making jokes, and it did kind of make me feel a little better.

“Yeah i guess i could eat, how about a burger and maybe a sweet tea”

Dean and Sam looked a little brighter at my words, they knew how much I enjoyed the drink and I guess it was nice for them to hear me say I wanted it. Dean started to make his way to a nearby diner to get some food. Getting out of the car was when I felt it as if all of a sudden cold water was poured over my head. I knew who it was and I turned around to meet him. 

“ Do you really believe that this food will nourish your sister Dean?” 

His words rang through the air. When Cas said there would be check-ins I didn't think they would start so soon and over something so trivial. Dean turned around and grabbed my arm, putting himself between me and Cas. Sam standing behind me sandwiching me between the boys to keep me safe.

“After the night we had, I figured she would want comfort food not healthy food.” 

Dean's anger was clear in his voice the way it always was when someone had insinuated he could not take care of his siblings, his family. 

“She needs nourishment the toll that was taken on her vocal cords from the transition of not speaking to speaking will be quite large if she does not receive proper vitamins and nutrients”

Dean was starting to clench his jaw and ball his fist

“Then I can buy her some damn vitamins and she can take them.” 

Cas’s response to this was less than kind, he did not like the disrespect dean was showing him

“I can still always take her Dean, don't tempt me”

Hearing these words i gripped onto Dean's jacket and Sam moved closer

“ Although she is happy, I will procure these vitamins so you two do not bring her into a situation that could potentially turn bad. She must take them though if she stops I will not hesitate to take her with me, I have cared for her for too long for you to turn her into one of you.”

Deans anger had yet to subside as Cas spoke

“What do you mean by one of us?”

“I mean, Dean, you and your brother do not have the best track record with taking care of yourselves, Sam drank demon blood and you use food, alcohol, and sex to get through life. Do not make her like this by teaching her your bad behavior.”

Cas said his voice almost booming through the empty parking lot. Dean was now silent looking more and more like he was going to punch Cas.

“I will be back soon little one with your vitamins, you will take them wont you?”  

Cas for the first time during this interaction was speaking directly to me.

“Yes I will, I promise.” 

My voice once again was croaking and cracking from the overflow of emotion and from the newness of speaking

“Good”

Was the last thing Cas said before disappearing. The three of us stood in silence not moving for fear he might return. 

Dean turned around and hugged me tightly. 

“Im sorry, i won't ever let him take you” 

I had no words for the moment. I think that's been the hardest part of speaking again, finding the right words for a moment 

“Alright no more chick flick moments” dean said letting go of me 

“I'm starving and we haven't eaten in a hot minute, lets go inside” dean said to end things

[gojos-thot-patrol]

🌶️

A priest gojo

I don't care anymore if I'll burn in hell for this request but I am craving for IT

I can't get it off my miind

Those "Forgive me Lord", "fuck, your pussy is so good for me" has been haunting my ass for ages. I'll give you my house, my cat ⁿᵒᵗ ʳˡˡʸ, my keychains??? and a kiss on your forehead

I sat on this ask for a few days trying to figure out how to go about it. Mostly because well, I've had a priest Geto in the works for about a month now LMAO.

I figured this was my sign to make it an series!! We're going to do a one shot of each of the men as fucked up priests. AH IM EXCITED!!

Now Presenting, Part One in Sins of the Church...

Starring Corrupted! Priest Satoru Gojo

Satoru saw hellfire in your eyes. He saw damnation and eternal torment. He saw his destruction. And he wanted all of it. He could feel his soul burning out of his chest every time you batted your pretty eyelashes at him, feel his morals weaken whenever you smile, and feel himself lose control every time you stood next to him.

And then he had to remind himself that all of those thoughts were borderline blasphemy. He was a member of the clergy for christ sakes, he shouldn't be thinking of a member of his flock like this. He shouldn’t be fantasizing about you bouncing on his cock while he fucks his own fist. No amount of repenting could remove that sin from his soul. But no amount of denial could remove his desperation for you either. He had never been a phenomenal priest, he was a drinker, took the lord's name in vain, and was far from celibate. But he was trying to do better. He was trying to remove those vices from his life. But you brought out the sinner in him. And if he was going to be a sinner, he might as well win with you. 

This is what ran through Satoru’s head as he sat in the confessional booth, bored out of his mind. He knew it was important for him to be available for this service from 6 to 9 everyday, but it didn’t mean he liked it. He checked his phone. It was 7:30. Fuck. He was about to text one of the other clergy members to see if one of them would take over for him (probably not) when he heard the church doors open. He suppressed a groan of annoyance as he waited to get this confession over with.

“Forgive me father for I have sinned. My last confession was…I don’t think I’ve ever confessed, actually.” The sweet voice rang in his ears. Ho-ly SHIT Satoru knew that voice! It was the voice he had imagined moaning and desperate under him. “Y/n.” He thought to himself.

“Worry not my child,” He said, desperate to hear what you were sinning about. You were the star of his parish, what did you have to confess? Did you say Heck? “You’re at confession now. Confess, and we can go from there.”

“I’m afraid I’ve been having..impure thoughts Father. Thoughts about someone I should not be thinking of in this way.” Jealousy shot through Satoru like a bullet, ripping through his very being. Someone else had caught your eye then. Of course, he shouldn’t have expected anything else. Still, The knowledge that you wanted someone other than him left him seething with rage. He had to know who took his angel from him.

“Who are you having these thoughts about my child?” Satoru asked, knowing you’d answer. You were a good girl, you never said no. But, you did go quiet. Satoru didn’t like that. He was about to prompt you again when you broke the silence. 

“I’ve been having thoughts about Father Gojo. In my dreams he comes to me and I see him in, well…pornographic ways. I know I shouldn’t have these dreams, or think these thoughts, but I can’t make them stop.” Motherfucker, maybe there was a God. Satoru found himself pressed into your shared wall of the confessional, hanging onto every word you said. Your small, desperate tone went straight to his dick, and he felt it twitch with every word you said.

“What happens in these dreams?” He asked. He had to know. He wanted all of the details. He wanted to know if you were as desperate for him as he was for you. How graphic was your imagination? 

“I find myself with him alone in the church. He puts his hands on my waist and lays me on one of the pews. I feel him kiss my jaw, my neck, my breasts..sometimes he puts his fingers in me, other times he just, well…has his way with me. And in the dreams it feels so euphoric, like a blessing from the holy father himself, I-” NO no, keep going! He didn’t stop you! “He always finishes inside of me. The dreams are so vivid that when I awake, I can still feel his seed seeping out of me.” 

Satoru’s cock was impossibly hard and he was struggling to keep his breath even. The passion of damnation burned through his veins. He wanted nothing more than to make your dreams come true. “Have you ever been with a man in this way?” He asked, bracing himself for the answer.

“No father,” You said, shaking your head even if he couldn’t see it. Good girl, he knew you were saving yourself for him. “It’s why these dreams are so odd to me,” you continued, “I’ve never experienced these things when I’m awake, but when I’m asleep it feels so real and vivid I sometimes wake up thinking it might have been real.” 

God Satoru wished it was real. If he closed his eyes he could feel your pussy quivering around his raw cock, hear you begging for him, feel your nails in his back. Shit. He palmed himself through his black slacks, trying to relive some of the pressure you had put him under. He tried to remind himself that he was a fucking priest Goddamn it! But he was a man first. And he needed some release. “I see. Well my dear, your sins are great. And as you know, the penance you must pay has to be greater.” He said, trying to sound as composed as he possibly could considering how desperate he was. 

“I’m willing to do anything father.” You said, all too eager. “Fuck don’t say that.” Gojo thought. It was the last thought of doubt that ran through his mind. He wanted to see just how far you were willing to go. 

“Come here my dear, meet me at the pews.” He said, giving in to the devil on his shoulder. You were a little shocked. As far as you knew, the priest wasn’t supposed to see you at all during confession, it was anonymous. You must have done something truly terrible that the priest had to see you to absolve your sins. Shame filled you as you exited your booth, followed by the most intense embarrassment you had ever felt in your life when you saw Father Gojo sitting in a pew.

“Father!” You gasped, as you rushed over to him. You didn’t even notice how flustered he looked, nor the darkness in his eyes as he stared at your chest. “I-I’m so-”

“On your knees child.” Gojo said, cutting you off before you could start rambling. You paused for a moment, before obeying. He was a priest after all, he had to know what he was doing. Maybe this was all a part of your penance. Gojo placed a gentle hand on the side of your face, and you instantly melted into it, bringing a smile to the clergy member's face. You really did have an angelic face.

“You’ve committed the sin of pleasure my dear.” Gojo cooed, “And to absolve yourself of that sin, you have to give pleasure.” Oh, so this was a part of your penance! 

It was also complete bullshit, Satoru knew that. But fuck, your lips were so pretty. He wasn’t trying to think of any smooth plausible reason for this to happen, he just wanted to make it happen. “Undo my belt.” He instructed, and you did so with only a slight moment of hesitation. “Atta girl, keep goin’.” He instructed, watching as you unbuttoned his slacks and pulled down his zipper. You paused, looking at the way his cock strained against his boxers. You had barely even kissed a boy, and yet you were about to be face to face with a cock that belonged to your priest. 

“Don’t get shy on me now Angel,” Gojo said, gently tangling his fingers into your hair. “You weren’t shy in the booth. This is what you want, isn’t it?” That was a wonderful question actually. This part never happened in your dreams. And honestly, the thought of putting someone's privates in your mouth was disgusting. But, some dark, gruesome part of you did want this. You wondered what he would look like, what he would taste like. You bit your lip and freed the fathers dick from his underwear, earning yourself an audible moan from him. 

“Atta girl…” Satoru groaned, moving your head to take him in. He grinned as you opened your mouth, and damn near came when you finally put your mouth on him. He wasn’t going to be able to enjoy this for long. He wanted something more than some childish head. Though, it was cute to watch you choke on his cock as you tried to take him all it. In any case, spit made for decent lube. 

He moaned softly, his head falling to the back of the pew as he guided you up and down on his cock. He looked back down at you and fuck. The sight of you looking up at him, tears filling your doe eyes, squishing your legs together to try and quell any arousal as you struggled to take in his cock was far too much for him. You were his ticket to damnation, he knew it. He was going to burn in hell for you.

“You’re so good,” He said as he pulled you off of his cock. He got you off your knees and sat you on his lap. “So good for me.” His words filled your head and turned into arousal. You felt electrified with shame and desire. “Lord forgive me,” You thought as he slipped your panties from under your skirt.“Please, I just can’t stop myself.” 

“Have you ever been touched here?” Satoru asked as he ran a finger up your slit, sending shivers up your spine as you tensed around him. You shook your head no. “Have you ever touched yourself  here?” He asked as you represented the question. The answer was yes, but to little results. When you were a teenager, you were curious, sure. But you never got the Euphoric feeling you had read about, so you stopped. As an adult you hadn’t touched yourself in years. 

“Not often.” You said, giving the father the condensed version. Satoru nodded, taking in all the information you had given him. 

“Do you want me to make you feel good Y/n?” He asked into your neck, his nimble fingers finding your clit and massaging circles into it. You yelped with shock. Your entire lower region had electricity pulsing through it, and you swore you felt your pussy clench. You nodded desperately. Satoru stopped moving.

“Not good enough Angel, I need you to use your words.” He said. He knew he was already putting you in a fucked up situation for his own pleasure, he wasn’t about to make it worse by not being 100% sure you also wanted this. 

“Yes, Father, please, I want you to touch me so bad it hurts!” You whined out for him, needing this more than anything. Satoru hummed his approval as he went back to rubbing your clit with his thumb. His fingers now had a new goal in mind. He probed at your weeping pussy. 

“You’re so wet for me angel..” Satoru hummed into your ear, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were a slut.” He whispered to you as he slipped a finger into your aching cunt. Slut. That word sent a flurry of emotions through your chest but the main one being desire. You wanted to be his slut. You wanted him to fill you up, to use and abuse you. You wanted to be Father Gojos fucktoy.

Those were thoughts you’d unpack later. Right now, The father had slipped another finger into you, and you were focused on trying to accommodate the stretch. It felt so good but you wanted so much more.

“Father please, I need more.” You whimpered out, shooting lightning through Gojos head. “I need you, Father, please. F-fuck me.” you were so unsure about saying fuck but you were absolutely possitive you needed a cock in you right at that moment. 

Satoru couldn't believe what he was hearing. A part of him thought he might have died and gone to heaven. But, he knew that probably wasn’t the case. Heaven was sinless and pure. There was nothing pure about you in this moment. You were the embodiment of sin and he wanted nothing more than to drown in you. 

“Well, since you asked so nicely, who am I to say no to my Angel?” He purred as he ripped off your blouse and skirt, leaving you bare and exposed to him. He had to take a moment of pause. You were divine in every sense of the word and he needed to take a moment to drink it all in. He found his new religion and it was you. “Lord forgive me, but lust calls to me,” he thought. 

He lined you up and slowly began to lower you onto his cock. You yelped softly, digging your nails into his shoulders as he stretched you out in ways you had never been before. It burned like hellfire but you were too lost in the pleasure to think about the pain. Somehow though all the discomfort you still felt a euphoria like no other.

Satoru couldn’t take his eyes off from where the two of you were now connected. He watched his cock disappear into your tight, weeping cunt, a droplet of pink blood flowing down as a sign that you were now tied to him forever. It was nothing close to what he could have fantasized of, it was so much better. He knew you’d feel good, but he couldn’t imagine how good. 

“Your pussy is so good for me.” He moaned as he bottomed out, pulling you into a passionate and intense kiss. Your head was filled with cotton, you felt yourself lose touch with everything that wasn't Gojo. Gojo, Gojo, Gojo, Your body craved him in ways you didn’t know possible. This was as close to God as you had ever been in all your years as a devout catholic. Your lower waist exploded as he bucked into you, a string of whimpers and moans leaving your mouth as you clung to him. Every stroke of his thick cock pet your g-spot, making you see stars and hear angels singing. “How could something so sinful feel so right?” Was your last coherent thought as Gojo fucked you into oblivion. 

Gojo was absolutely intoxicated by your warmth. He tried drugs before, but none of them could compare to the way your pussy pulled him in. The way your body molded itself to his, the way your breathing fell in perfect timing with his. He didn’t give a shit anymore if he was going to be damned for eternity, He found heaven already, and it was you. 

You felt a sting start to tightly coil inside of your stomach and your legs stiffen. The sparks in your lower abdomen were becoming full on fireworks. “G-Gojo, I think I’m c-clo-!” You didn’t get to finish that sentence before the string snapped inside of you. Your brain released all of its dopamine and ecstasy reserves into your bloodstream, and your vision went white with pleasure. You felt yourself scream out for God, or Gojo. You weren’t sure exactly which one, but you knew that in that moment there really was no difference to you. 

Satoru wasn’t far behind you at all. The moment your cunt began to constrict around him he knew he was finished. A few more thrusts and he was cumming deep inside you, biting your neck to try and keep his volume down. He for sure left a bruise. You both sat there, him clinging onto you like a drowning man clings to a life preserver, you hanging limply off of him like a used doll, both of you trying to catch your breath. 

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck FUCK. All at once it hit Satoru what he had just done. Shit. he could feel his soul burning in hell already, everything about this felt dirty. He never should have touched you, he-

And then you sighed softly, and slightly readjusted yourself to be more comfortable in his arms. You were so small compared to him, so delicate. It made his heart swell. Nothing involving you could have been dirty, he decided. It was just the catholic guilt talking. He finally lifted you up and pulled out, chuckling softly at the little whine you let out.

“Come on angel,” He purred, “Let’s get you dressed and get you home.”

[obislittleone]

The Winner Takes It All

Episode 12

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Tribute(OC)!Reader

Chapter Warnings: this might be the saddest one... or maybe I'm delusional and it can only get worse from here. Anyways, death, canon typical violence, drowning, my sweet baby Lukas is trying his best as always... oh yeah a hUGE AMOUNT OF ANGST

Chapter Summary: This is the endgame, there are four tributes remaining. Who will live, and who will die? The choice has never been up to the tributes.

Word Count: 3.8k

my live action cinderella dress (movie accurate) is finally done so expect me to have a lot more editing time. I will also probably have more writing time so expect some endings to unfinished series.

“He had f-feelings for me?” Lukas was dumbfounded. The poor kid didn’t even get to tell you. He tried to speak, opened his mouth to do so, but froze upon not knowing what he could possibly say in response. Maybe just start with the truth.  “He did,” his head fell when the words finally escaped. “I’m sorry, he wanted to tell you.”

You’d been silent. Not quiet, but absolutely silent. Lukas didn’t try to make you be anything else… but he did have to keep you moving. It wasn’t much later in the day, but the sun was already setting. The minimal amounts of light only being shown through the small openings of the tree canopy. It was harder to tell where you were going. Nothing looked the same as it did yesterday, or the day before. You could swear you’d walked through here to get to the stream, but the path had somewhat changed along the way. 

As drowned in your thoughts as you’d been right after it happened, your entire body, including your brain, had been numbed to Rodey’s death. His blood was still on your hands. Figuratively and literally. You didn’t stare at it too long, forgetting to let your gaze linger on anything except the path ahead, and Lukas, who was three steps in front of you. 

You both were half of the remaining tributes. It was a miracle you both had made it this far, but now that the numbers had dwindled, there were two other tributes left who were hunting the both of you. It was better to keep moving than to sit like a duck and let one of them take their victory. 

The longer you went without finding the stream, your need for freshwater had grown exponentially. It was strange how the past few days it would rain for hours, but now that you actually needed water it ceased to exist… in a literal rainforest. That was the peak behavior of a game maker, to play sinisterly. 

“We can stop here for now. Maybe if I can get up one of these trees I’ll be able to spot the stream again.” 

You barely minded what he was saying, giving a small nod to at least show you heard him. You didn’t care much to speak anymore, not even to the person who you felt the most patience from. He was doing fine without the constant dialogue of the days before, and you knew he’d be fine without it till the end. He was going to win, there was no doubt in your mind. You’d thought that perhaps it could be him or Rodey, but Rodey died saving you. Now you would do the same for Lukas, whenever the situation finally came. 

You sat down, back against a tree trunk and head dropped forward, eyes making an instant connection with the dried blood on your body. Even if you scrubbed at yourself for hours, there was no chance you could get rid of it all. You have the blood of two allies on your hands, now. That’s as many as you’re willing to have. 

Lukas had set down his pack, starting to climb the roots and knots of the tree’s enormous base, when a tiny parachute descended straight towards him. You looked up when you heard the familiar sound it made, watching it fall into the boy’s hands. 

“Head’s up,” he called, tossing you one of two canteens full of water. You took it gratefully, beginning to drink up as much as you could take. 

Lukas smiled before looking down to the note included. 

Talk to her for me, tell her it’s not her fault. - F

He sighed, trying to come up with any ideas on what he could possibly say. There’s no way to know if she’ll even be open to a conversation. There’s no indicator that she even wants to speak at all. But this is a sponsor that keeps them from having to exhaust their resources, and Finnick asked for something simple in return. He doesn’t understand why Finnick is so dead set on coddling you in this arena. It’s not like things are going to get any better from here. It’s an absolute fact that the time can only become worse, until everyone meets their end but one. 

But against his logic, and against what his brain is telling him, his gut wants to follow his mentor’s instructions… So he does. 

He sits beside you at the base of the tree, his own canteen in hand and his pack in the other. 

“Listen, I know you don’t wanna talk about it,” he assumed, given the fact that you’ve literally said nothing since it happened. “But what happened, it wasn’t your fault. You know that, right?” 

You reasoned with the scene over in your head, and the only way it didn’t end the same way is if he didn’t choose to jump in front of you. It was hard to think about, because you feel responsible. He wouldn’t have jumped if you weren’t there. But if you weren’t there, she’d only have him to charge at. It all ends the same every time. He was faster than you, braver than you. He would have stepped time and again, and you couldn’t stop him. 

“He s-saved me. It was f-for me.”

“I know.”

You closed your canteen and let it roll out of your hands and onto the ground next to you, curling your legs to your chest and trying to comfort yourself. You really didn’t want to talk about it, but if he was adamant for you to do so, it was going to be on your terms. 

He seemed to be stumbling for more words, and only came across some having rambled a thought from his head. 

“I wish he’d never told you…”

“T-told me what?”

He hadn’t caught onto the fact that you had no idea what he was talking about. So like a dumbass, he kept going. 

“About his feelings for you. I told him a few days ago it could only hurt you. Then again I also told him it was a good idea so I guess we were both stupid,” his rambling of a response made your eyes widen in both shock and anger. 

“He had f-feelings for me?”

Lukas was dumbfounded. The poor kid didn’t even get to tell you. He tried to speak, opened his mouth to do so, but froze upon not knowing what he could possibly say in response. Maybe just start with the truth. 

“He did,” his head fell when the words finally escaped. “I’m sorry, he wanted to tell you.”

For some reason, this information didn’t hurt you as much as it should. Instead, it angered you. How could he possibly have been so stupid to sacrifice himself in the name of feelings for someone he’d only recently met? How could he have given up a possible win, just to show his devotion. Had it been an instinctual move of protection, you could have accepted it… but no. 

“I s-should be dead r-right now. All these p-people around me, dropping l-like flies. And I’m still h-here.”

“Don’t say things like that. Look, I get it. You feel responsible…”

You nodded, because yes, you absolutely did. Your ally’s blood is on your hands, and no matter how many times you scrub it away, it will always be there. 

“But I feel responsible for you. I’d rather it be any of them than you, understand?” He finished off, his look of seriousness piercing yours of confused emotion. Sadness, anger, guilt. Probably more, but you can’t identify them.

You nodded, but his words didn’t make you feel any better. If anything it just made things worse. He was still trying to protect you, and you couldn’t stand losing one more ally. Especially not him. He had to be the one to make it out of here. You’d been thinking about it so much more the past several hours, now that only four remain. You’ve only gotten this far because of your allies, but now they are almost gone. It’s on the verge of every man for himself, but you know Lukas won’t let you die on your own. If it comes down to the two of you, you have every intention of throwing yourself from the top of a tree so he can go home. You don’t think you’ll survive the other two tributes, however. 

“You’re g-going to win, y’know.”

He sighed, looking at the ground and shrugging. Maybe they are true, the things that you say. He just hopes they aren’t. 

“I’m not so sure anymore. If I were a gambling man, I’d have to put money on you.”

“Well then it’s a g-good thing you don’t gamble,” you smiled, trying to expel every other feeling you had, and only hold onto one emotion at a time. The air was light, just around the two of you. Old friends, fighting for their lives, but they can still make the other smile, or laugh. It’s simply what friends can do. 

Lukas hopes that he doesn’t leave this arena without you. He is praying to anyone that can hear his thoughts that if he watches you die, he’ll die too. It’s not like he has anything to go back to, anyway. 

“Promise m-me something, for when you get h-home?” You asked, his curiosity piqued. “Promise me that you’ll take care of m-my family. My brother, make sure he d-doesn’t ever have his name in the bowl more than it h-has to be.”

He smiled. He hadn’t even thought about his own family, his mother. Probably because he didn’t consider her to be so, anymore. 

“I promise, if I get out of here, I will.”

“T-thank you, Lukas.” 

He leaned against you, his head resting on the tree while your own head was on his shoulder. You’d be perfectly content with dying if you could just drift away like this. Everything now was peaceful, and you’d left no stones unturned. Your family would be taken care of if Lukas lived, you know he’s good on his word. You know that having spoken with him, and even sitting here with him now, you will have resolved everything with him. There’s nothing else you need to know… except-

“Lukas?”

“Yeah?”

“W-why did you volunteer?”

He took a deep inhale beside you, then went stiff as the reasoning coursed through his mind. He could lie and say it was an impulsive mistake. He could come up with literally a million other things that would sound plausible for any kid on why they would do something so stupid. But he wasn’t any kid, and you weren’t just some bystander. You were his best friend. Either of you could die any moment, so he wanted to make sure you got nothing but the truth. 

“The morning of the reaping, my mom and I had that argument,” he recalled. You nodded along, remembering the scene vividly. He hadn’t been himself until he’d gotten on a boat. The water always seemed to calm him down. “I’d been feeling better after work, but I went home to shower and get dressed.”

He stopped for a moment, his brow furrowing as he tried to bring it all back into recollection. The nasty look on his mother’s face, the way she swore at him and spewed her insanity. Thinking back to it now, him volunteering is just what she wanted. It would have been better to refuse volunteering out of spite. 

“She told me I would never measure up to my father, and that there was no point in trying. When I asked her what she wanted from me, she told me she wished I had died in his place.”

Your hand immediately found his in a tight and reassuring grip when you heard this. It was just like his mother to go off and say some shit like that. Something that would scar him the rest of his life and force him to go immeasurable lengths, and for what?

“I told her I would volunteer if she wanted me dead so badly. She said I might as well, because it would be the only way to bring some pride back to our family. The sad thing is, I didn’t regret it until they called your name…”

“I’m s-so sorry,” you whispered to him, barely heard above the humming and buzzing of the rainforest. You clung to him, hoping that this could bring the smallest semblance of comfort in a place that exudes horror and danger. He clung right back to you, being still in your embrace as it was one of normalcy. He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to hug you, or look at you, or talk to you. Even simply being in your presence wasn’t something he was going to take for granted, because he knew that soon, he would never be able to again, whichever way it went. 

-

The day continued on, and the sun was setting much faster than you would ever anticipate. Probably because it wasn’t a real sun, and any glimpse of normalcy was non-lasting. It couldn’t be, because there had to be reminders that this was not the wilderness, and you were not safe. You would die any second. There were only four tributes remaining. You could imagine that things were getting tense back in the capitol. You couldn’t imagine the kid from eleven had garnered much of a fan base with Lukas being the prized tribute this year. You doubted the girl from one was getting any special attention, either. Not that they needed it. Estelle was most definitely the most qualified remaining tribute, a career who has trained for this moment all her life… but still, you’re sure Lukas will win it from her. 

While walking in the marshy rainforest, you’re quickly reminded how easily this game can end. 

You hear a branch snap a bit down the trail behind you, and you freeze. 

“Lukas…” you whisper, drawing the knife from your hip. 

He heard another branch, and turned his head, the boy named Brock from eleven quickly approaching, with Estelle on his heels. Whether or not she was chasing him, no one could be sure, but they both had a determined look in their eye, and all it took was one word for you to bolt ahead like lightning. 

“Run.”

The branches below you snapped in half, the pressure of your rapid footsteps was intense enough to squash any animal or snake that dared slither into your path. 

You could hear Lukas’ hard breath intake, as he was passing you every few seconds, then trailing a step behind, only to look back and make sure they weren’t gaining too quickly… except for they were. This was going to end in a face off, whether you liked it or not. You couldn’t run forever, and it was just a matter of time. You were ready to die, and you would protect Lukas. 

You tripped over your steps, holding your hand out to stop Lukas in his tracks before he fell. 

Well, at least you’d found the waterfall. The only downside is, you were at the top of it, having run onto a ledge that was at least a thirty foot drop into deep waters, raging from the pressure of the falls. There was no way you were making that jump without drowning. You’d probably have a heart attack on the way down and die before hitting the water. 

“W-what do we do?” You turned to your counterpart, and he whipped his head back at the two approaching tributes. 

“We’ve gotcha, now!” Estelle could be heard shouting, the sound getting far too close for comfort. It was now evident that they had been teamed up on this effort. “Nowhere to run!”

Lukas yanked your arm, pulling you beside him. 

“Do you trust me?” he asked sincerely, the look in his eyes made you scared, like he was thinking irrationally, and he was… but it was all he could come up with. 

“Yes,” you nodded, but grabbed his hand which was still on your arm. “Lukas?” 

He didn’t even hesitate. He didn’t answer your call of his name. He didn’t even give you a second to understand what the hell he was about to do. He just did it. 

Within a moment, gravity became your enemy, and you went flying backwards off the edge of the cliffside, arms and legs flailing as you screamed all the way down into the waters. You sucked in a quick breath before being  fully submerged, hammered down by the constant onslaught of heavy water. 

Lukas took off, running away while the others were distracted by your fall into the depths. He ran towards the forest again, trying to jump logs and dodge trees, anything that could make their path to him harder. 

Brock was still looking over the edge, having been surprised by the play of events. 

“Let’s go, we can’t let him get far,” Estelle pulled him by the shoulder, turning him to the rainforest patches again.

“What about the girl?” 

Estelle scoffed, “We’ll hear a cannon in a few minutes, she can’t swim.” 

And with that, they took off.

Immediately being in water, the panic set into your mind. You were clawing around, trying to make it out, reaching out for anything that you could use to pull yourself up… but with the pressure beating down over you, you sank deeper, and deeper, with no savior to jump in after you, now. This was it. This was the moment you had to choose. 

Live, or Die.

Last time you chose to die, but there was nothing on the line. Lukas is on the line now. He is the only person you swore you were going to protect in this arena, and you had to find a way out of here if that was going to happen. 

You tried to quiet your mind, to forget the past and just how much you hated being in this water. You were ignoring just how badly your arms ache while attempting to paddle to the surface. You forgot it all and remembered the boy you’ve known since childhood. You remembered all the times he stood up for you against the kids mocking your stutter. You remembered just how much he’s done for you and is still doing for you… and suddenly, your head breaks through the surface, and you’re able to crawl into the small cavern behind the waterfall. 

You start heaving breaths, rapidly letting the air tear through your lungs, now that they had access to air in the first place. You smiled to yourself once you were able to get high enough on the rocks to stand. You survived. You’d been dealt a hand that was completely out of your favor and you managed to climb out and breathe the air around you. 

Your excitement was immediately cut off when you heard a cannon sound. 

You didn’t waste a minute in climbing the rocks as fast as you could, albeit a little clumsy from having wet hands and shoes. Your mind raced, and you hoped that your heart pounding would be eased, and you would be wrong about your suspicions. 

“No, n-no,” you shook your head, running into the rainforest and looking around frantically. You took several turns, and couldn’t see anything or anyone, but you had your knife drawn anyway. You were practically panting by now, the heaviness in your breath never dwindling. 

The minute you came to a clearing, your eyes falling on the person in front of you, your eyes watered with tears. 

“Lukas,” you slid down to your knees next to his limp frame, pulling him into your lap to hold him. “Wake up. W-wake up, Lukas, I’m h-here.” 

He didn’t budge, but as you rocked him, you were able to see the source of this tragedy, the trail of blood, streaming from his chest and over his body in gushes. It was all over your hands, and it was all over your arms. It was all over you. You were covered in his blood, just like you were covered in Rodey’s dried blood. You’d let another ally sacrifice themselves for you. You swore you wouldn’t. 

This wasn’t just another ally, and this wasn’t just a tribute you’d met a week ago. This was the best friend you’d ever had. The person who grew up alongside you into a wonderful man. He was the person who comforted you when you felt too embarrassed to go to a family member. He was the boy who’d complimented you when no other boy would dare. He was the one who brought you shells every morning from his walk to the docks. And now he is the boy who’s blood you are covered in, crying over miserably. 

You can’t bring yourself to part with him, to let him go. You know if you do, something different will become of you. Something you have never been before. So you don’t. You cling to him, and you cry, and you let the thunder that begins to rumble above you reflect your emotion. It’s been a day since it’s rained in this rainforest, but even still, the rain doesn’t pour, it only trickles slightly. Enough to remind you that despite this loss, and despite the fact that you will never be the same, you are still in this arena, and there is only one way out. 

You raise your head, and hear another sound of a cannon. You look around, but there is no sign of movement or of other tributes. 

There’s only one left, and despite what you’ve said since the moment you entered this God forsaken place, despite your morals, and despite these tributes not being your real enemy, there is only one thing on your mind, and you will not rest until you’ve attained it…

As you move to stand, you roll Lukas’ body on his back, placing his hands over his chest to be at rest. You hate that this is how his story ends. You want to bury him, you want to give him a proper memorial, but you know this arena will be scrapped by the capitol for next year’s use, and this spot will be desecrated soon after you arrange it. So you’ve decided you will raise a memorial of him back home, when you arrive there. 

Your tears are still running hot, but there’s a new fire under them that hadn’t been there before. There’s an anger you’ve never felt before. There’s a glint in your eyes that will not be satisfied.

You turn your head at the familiar sound of an incoming parachute, the contents of the container seem to be large, as there’s an entire box being lowered in. You watch it fall to the ground, in disbelief at the sheer size of it alone. It comes up to about your knees, and you wonder, what could Finnick have sent me?

You flick open the top, and immediately see the contents of the inside. Rope, lots and lots of rope. Several carabiners are included that could be used for rock climbing, but you know, and he knows, that’s not what you have in mind. 

You pick up the note, two little wet spots appearing from the tears in your eyes, and the rain from above. 

Show no Mercy… - F

-

tags(open): @thepassionatereader @i-voluntears @secretsicanthideanymore @mystargirl-interlude @c4ttheart @lilibrn

[the-hinky-panda]

June Bug Series: Chapter 1

Title: June Bug

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Goodie Carangi x OFC!Reader (June)

Summary: You're a business owner that's trying to fly under the radar in Tulsa but that's going to be extremely difficult when you fall for Goodie.

You’re stuck in a rut. A boring, dull, exasperating rut. It’s your third time in the same week coming out to the barn to spend time grooming your ten year old mare, Ruby. It was something you did whenever you needed to get out from behind your desk, out of the four walls of your home. You’re usually not this frequent a visitor to Fennario Ranch and your presence has finally piqued your friend’s interest. 

“If you keep showing up to groom that horse, you’re going to brush her until she’s bald.” 

You stop mid stroke and run a hand over the horse’s coat. “That can happen?” 

Margaret chuckles. “God, no. It was a joke.” 

“Oh.” You go back to brushing Ruby’s flank. “That wasn’t funny.” 

“It was a little funny.” Margaret sits on a tack trunk. “I’m not used to seeing you out here so much in one week. You’re getting dangerously close to running into Cal at some point.” 

“I’m not too worried. Your staff always gives me a heads up when he pulls in.” 

“So you can go hide?” 

“So I can avoid confrontation.” 

“Considering how often you’ve been here this week, maybe some confrontation would be good for you.” 

You flash her a grin over Ruby’s withers. “You just want me to run him off because he’s bugging you now. Wait, aren’t you seeing someone? That guy from New York?” 

Margaret gives you a side eye. “Define ‘seeing.’” 

“Call it whatever you want. He can do your dirty work for you. In fact, I wouldn’t mind seeing Cal have his ass handed to him by some mobster from New York City.” 

“Then maybe you should make friends with him.” 

“What? And have him find out about our little business venture? If he’s really affiliated with the mob then we’ll have to pay a kick-up to him. I already brokered a zero kick-up fee to Kansas City. I don’t want to have to sweet talk my way out of another situation like that.” 

“Alright,” Margaret sips her coffee. “Don’t make friends with him but he does have a guy that works the casino floor that’s from New York as well. He’s your type too.” 

“My type,” you scoff. “And what exactly is that?” 

“Clean cut, good shape, dresses impeccably. He seems personable.” 

Okay, that is your type but you’re going to be damned to let Margaret know she hit the nail on the head. “Sounds boring.” 

Margaret sighs in exasperation. “God, June, come on. You need to get out and have some fun. Loosen the fuck up for a change.” 

You drop the brush back into the tack box and pick up a carrot, snapping it in half before giving it to Ruby. “I’ve been researching through the latest group of men and-” 

Margaret interrupts. “No. No work. Go by yourself. Do something wild and pick someone up.” 

“Oh yeah, a one night stand will solve everything.” 

“Maybe not everything but it’ll take the edge off. You know, let him do all the work for a change.” 

You nod in resignation at your friend and business partner. “Alright. Fine. What’s this guy’s name?” 

Margaret smiles at you. “Ask him yourself.” 

And that is how you end up spending the entire evening at the newly opened Bred 2 Buck Casino and Cabaret. The name kept popping up in your research as an upcoming hot spot in Tulsa and it was also the only place you were guaranteed to not run into your ex-husband. So you pulled out one of your many little black dresses, slipped into a pair of Christian Louboutin pumps and headed to Tulsa’s newest casino.

Some people go to museums to analyze the art, you go to establishments such as this to analyze the patrons. And there were a wide range from out of state high rollers playing black jack and craps to locals who would play $20 on the slots and then go listen to the live music while they sip on mid-shelf whiskey. After making a couple passes through the casino floor and losing fifty bucks on a slot machine just to fit in with the locals, you settle near the end of the bar where you can still hear the house band but the bass doesn’t rattle your martini glass. You’re content to sit in peace but a whiff of expensive cologne alerts you to someone taking the seat next to yours. 

Here we go. 

***

Goodie noticed you the moment you stepped onto the casino floor. You’re dressed in an elegantly cut black dress and expensive heels, your hair is in a sweeping updo with small white flowers tucked into the dark waves. You move around the floor in measured, graceful steps. When you pass behind him at one of the craps tables, he catches the scent of jasmine and cedarwood. Your eyes meet his briefly as you move past the table and he realizes that noticed isn’t a strong enough word. 

Colpo di fulmine. The thunderbolt. 

Fifty-five years old and it happens precisely as his mother predicted it would. No warning, no prelude, nothing. He’s already taken half a step away from the craps table he’s been monitoring to follow you before he comes to his senses. He keeps one eye on the table and one on you as you drift between the gaming tables. You take a seat at one of the slot machines and it strikes him as odd. You don’t seem to be a slots gambler, not with your sense of high style and grace. 

By the time the wannabe oil baron craps out and the pit boss starts to reset the table, you’ve left the casino floor and his heart sinks. He takes a shot and scans the bar and cabaret area and sees you sitting at the bar. The relief he feels is ridiculous but then the nerves return as he approaches you. He can see the small frown, the subtle downturn of your mouth, as he takes the seat at the very end of the bar and the bartender slides him a vodka and lime. 

“You don’t strike me as a slot player.” 

Your eyes scan his face and the frown straightens. “And what kind of player do I strike you as?” 

God, you’re stunning. And that is the proper word because he’s struggling to find his words, his breath. He is properly stunned. But words are his speciality. “Poker.” 

“Poker? Really?” You raise a finely arched eyebrow. “How’s that?” 

“You look like a woman who likes the challenge of reading a room, reading a person.” 

“And you figured this out just by sitting down next to me at the bar?” 

“No, I figured it out by watching you scope out the casino floor. All the craps games were too hot at the moment for you to jump in. Blackjack’s too simple to engage you. Roulette, same. But for the life of me, I can’t figure out why in the world you played the slot machine.” 

“Looks like I’m not the only one who enjoys watching people.” You finally give him a smile and his heart nearly stops. “As for the slot machine, what can I say? I was in the mood for something different tonight. New experience, so to speak.” 

“I get that,” he laughs. “If you can’t tell, I’m not exactly from around here.” 

“No kidding.” There’s a mischievous glint to your eye. “Let me guess, Jersey?” 

He puts a hand to his heart. “Ouch. You wound me.” 

That earns him a soft laugh from you as you pick up the speared olives from your martini. “My apologies. I may have never been to the east coast but a New York accent is very hard to mistake, especially here in Tulsa. But there seems to be an odd influx of youse guys.” 

“That’s not too bad,” he teases. “For someone who’s never been, you’d blend right in.” 

“Well, what can I say,” you look him directly in the eyes, “I like mafia movies.” 

He understands exactly what you’re implying but he’s not sure how to take it. Is this simple flirting? Digging for information? Were you sent by someone? No, it was exceedingly rare that women were sent to deal with family business. But with Chickie’s unstableness recently, he wouldn’t put anything past him. He chooses to proceed as if this were a regular conversation and see where it leads. “Oh yeah. What’s your favorite?” 

“I was an avid Sopranos fan. Never missed an episode.” 

Goodie scoffs. “Sopranos was shit.” 

You actually laugh. “You don't like it because it took place in Jersey.” 

“There was that.” He can feel his phone buzz in his pocket and he knows he has to get back to the casino floor. You notice the dull sound and motion to his suit jacket pocket. 

“It sounds like duty calls and I don’t know your name.” 

He takes out a business card and writes his name and number on the back of it. “To be fair, I don’t know yours either.” 

You take the offered card and narrow your eyes. “Goodie?” 

“It’s a nickname,” he shrugs. “My real name’s Dennis but no one calls me that.” 

That answer satisfies you enough that you return the information. June. Simple, elegant. It fits you. He puts your drink on his tab and heads back to the casino floor. Someone hit big at the blackjack table and needed to cash out their eight thousand dollar winnings. It was a young guy partying with his groomsmen before getting married the next morning. By the time he had handed over the money and saw the very happy groom-to-be out the door, you had already left the premises. Just as he was wondering if you would ever use his number, his phone buzzes again. Pulling it out and wondering what the issue is now, he sees it’s from you. 

The next free night you have, let’s do dinner.  -June

***

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[elisysd]

Physical - Dua Lipa

Masterlist - Previously - Next Chapter

I don't wanna live another life 'Cause this one's pretty nice

Charles didn’t leave her side, refusing to go celebrate with the team or anyone for what mattered. He couldn’t, wouldn’t leave Lya, alone. Not anymore. And not certainly in a hospital that reminded him one of the worst moment of his life. Lya was sleeping peacefully and the only thing that could be heard was the regular “bip” from the monitoring machine, breaking the silence of the room. She looked so fragile, in her hospital gown and her being so pale. Charles gulped and let a tear fall. He realised he could have lost her. He had already lost so many people in his life; he couldn’t lose her too. It was unfathomable. She was his family, the one he longed to come home to whenever he was away. If something were to happen to her, he couldn’t get over it.

The white walls made him sick. This place made him sick. Too many dark memories were attached to it and seeing Lyanna there, he couldn’t help but think of his father. He shook his head trying to make the images of his dad go away. He was suffocating, as if an invisible hand was strangling him. And then he broke down. All the events of the day came rushing in. His dire need to gasp for air ended up waking up Lyanna who opened her tired eyes and looked straight at him.

“Charles… Oh my God, Charles, talk to me. Baby, please talk to me.”

She was fully awake. She was dying to stand up and take him in her arms to whisper sweet nothings to him but couldn’t because of everything her body was linked to.

“I can’t lose you, Lya. I can’t. It will break me. If the doctors find something…”

“They won’t find anything. I promise you they won’t.”

“You can’t promise. You don’t know that. I already lost Jules and my dad, I refuse to loose you too. You’re the love of my life. You’re the one I want to grow old with. I refuse to give up on that.”

“And we will grow old together. The doctors are just being careful, okay. Please don’t assume the worst.”

“I want to be strong Lyanna. For you. You need me to be strong.”

“I need you to be you. If you feel the need to break down, please let me be the shoulders you cry on. I don’ t need you to be the hero who will save the day. You can be the little lost boy with me. I want to see all your flaws and failures because it makes me love you more. Not less. Never less.”

Charles took his head in his hands and started to sob uncontrollably. Lyanna tried to scoot over to give him a little space that he took promptly. Carefully, he put his head on her chest, listening to her heart beating steadily. His hands reached for her as he tangled his legs between hers. Lyanna ran her hand through Charles's hair, doing her best to calm him down. She could feel his tears wetting her gown and against her will, a tear escaped her eye.

“I’m staying the night here. I’m not leaving you alone.”

“You can’t stay Charles, the nurses won’t be okay with that.”

“Watch me. I was shit scared today.”

“I’m sorry. Really. But you need to rest and prepare for Canada.”

“I’m not going. I’m staying here, making sure you are okay.”

“Don’t be stupid. You are going, you have a championship to win. And I’ll be fine, no more promo for me, no more shooting, plenty of time to rest and take care of me. I was thinking of a spa day with Carla and your mom. I promise you, I’ll be fine.”

“Fine.” he mumbled. “But you are coming with me for the European races and it’s not negotiable.”

She sighed and kissed his forehead. Charles shifted a little and got up delicately, making sure he was not hurting Lyanna in the process. Willy-nilly, he kissed her one last time , promising her to be there first thing tomorrow as she would go through a series of medical tests and he definitely didn’t want her to do this alone. And if he was honest with himself, he needed to personally make sure she was okay. 

On his way back, he stopped at him mom. He was exhausted and needed the comfort of his mother arms. And he didn’t want to go back to his place without Lyanna. It was hurting him too much. His mother welcomed him with open arms and made him a cup of tea before he proceeded to explain to her what the doctor had said and shared his worries with her.

“Lya is strong Charles, I’m sure she’ll be okay.”

“I hope mom. Because if she isn’t…”

“Shut up. I only want positive thoughts, okay. For Lyanna.”

“I’m so scared mom, I’m just so, so scared.”

“I know, Charlie. I know.”

“It’s been years since you called me that way.”

“It’s been years since I’ve seen you this lost and sad.”

He ended up spending the night in his childhood bedroom and as promised as soon as visiting hours were up, he was in Lyanna’s room with a little bag full of pastries he managed to sneak in without the nurses noticing. Lyanna was already feeling a little bit better, she was not as pale as the day before even if she was still tired. She thanked Charles for the breakfast, complaining about how a glass of orange juice and a tea was simply not enough for her. They chatted for an hour or so before the nurse arrived to prepare her for the biopsy. Lyanna could see Charles gulped and offered him a reassuring smile.

“When will we know if she is okay?” he asked.

“It depends… I’d say, in a week or so but between us the doctor doesn’t suspect anything with her, it’s just a precaution. She is okay and will probably be discharged tomorrow or the day after.”

Charles nodded, feeling a little bit better. But he knew he would feel totally fine once they would have the results and Lyanna would be cleared completely.

And indeed, two days later, Lyanna was back home with a ton of medicines to take but she was better. She felt a little less tired and at least she could walk on her own. The following days, true to his words, Charles was not leaving her side to the point that it started to get on her nerves. That’s why one morning as Charles was packing for Canada, she called Carla to ask if she would like to go shopping with her. She needed to get out of the house and away for Charles and his constant needs to make sure she was okay. He treated her like a fragile thing unable to do anything. If she was listening to him she would have to stay in their bed all day, every day, and she just couldn’t and didn’t want to. That’s what she explained to Charles when expressed his concerns to her.

“I’m suffocating Charles. I love you, I’m so grateful that you have been there for me, you helped me so much but I need to breathe. And to be away from you a little bit, okay.”

“But if something happen to you….”

“Carla will be here. And if it makes you feel better, I text you when I find her and when I’m coming home, okay? But I really need to get out of here and you need to pack.”

“Fine…”

As soon as she found Carla at the shopping centre, Lyanna started to tell her all about how Charles was acting like she was made on paper.

“I love him, I truly do but he was such a pain in the ass. You know, I’m kind of glad he leaves tomorrow because that means that I’ll finally get some time for me. Does that make me selfish? Am I a bad girlfriend?”

“No you’re not, you’re human. But Charles was so scared. We all were. But Charles, it was on another level.”

“I know. Believe me I know, I feel bad enough… That’s why I needed to get out of the house and what’s better than a shopping therapy between girls to forget all about boys problems?”

“100% agree! Any ideas in mind?”

“Since I’ll be coming with him for the European races, I was thinking of finding new outfits especially for that. And we will be going to Wimbledon together so I definitely need to find something cute and dressy and chic for the occasion.”

“I like how you think, Lya.”

She came back late at night and as soon as she opened the door Charles rushed to her to check if she was okay.

“Charles! I’m good! You, on the other hand, need to sleep because you leave early tomorrow.”

“I know but I wanted to wait for you. Did you eat properly? Did you drink enough water? I can prepare you something really quick,if you need…”

“That’s a big no, you stay away from the stove. And I’m fine! I’m just tired.”

“I can give you an extra pillow if you want, so you get more comfortable and…”

“No Charles! I’m tired of you!” she exclaimed stopping Charles in his track.

There was a pause during which Charles looked at her, shocked.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to say it like this…”

“But you mean it.” he added with a sad look on his face.

“I… it’s just… How can I explain without looking like an ungrateful bitch? You’ve been amazing with me. Patient and thoughtful and all. But sometimes, you are too much. I get it, Charles. I know you’ve been scared but the truth is, I’m fine. You are not losing me; you’ll never lose me okay. You need to let your fears aside, I’m not going anywhere.” she explained as she sat down on the sofa taking his hands in hers and forcing him to sit next to her. “Here’s what we will do, I promise you to tell you whenever I feel even slightly sick okay?”

He nodded and put one arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him.

“I know I’ve been a little overprotective. I’m sorry. You’re right, I’m just scared but it stresses me out to still have to wait for your biopsy results and knowing that I probably won’t be there when you’ll get them… I don’t like it.” he confessed.

“What about this, I call you as soon as I receive them and then we can open them together.”

“I think it would make me feel better.”

“Then, it’s settled.”

She got her results the Thursday before the Canadian Grand Prix. As soon as she received the envelope from her doctor, she texted Charles who told her he would call her right after the press conference. When she received his call, he was in a corner near what seemed to be the public toilets.

“So, tell me.” He hurried her.

Slowly she opened the envelope and carefully read the letter.

“It’s negative, Charles.”

“Negative as in you are all good, no trace of cancer or anything?”

“No trace of cancer. I’m all good.”

“Thank God. I could cry.”

She laughed at his reaction. Truth is, she was relieved as well and as much as him.

“Stop it! We are acting dramatic over stupid medical exams, imagine when I’ll tell you that I’m expecting our first child.” she blurted out before gasping.

There was a long silence, a little awkward. They never had that talk, or at least it never had been serious. Of course they both wanted to spend their life together and Lyanna guessed that at some point it could mean having children, but nothing was planned. She didn’t know when she would be ready or if she would be one day. And Charles was focused on his career. There was no way, a child could fit in their life today.

“Yeah… but you’re not, right? Pregnant I mean.”

“No. No I’m not, I’m sorry I don’t know why I’ve said that.”

“No, don’t be. Uhm… I’ve got to go. I call you later, okay?”

It’s a Charles distraught that bumped into Pierre who was on his way back to the Alpine’s hospitality to get a coffee.

“Hey mate, you good?”

“I just had the weirdest conversation with Lya. She is good by the way, no cancer.”

“You must be relieved. It’s a good news. So, what happened?”

“She mentioned us having kids. It was totally out of nowhere and I wasn’t prepared. I might have told her that I had somewhere to go when in fact it’s just that I feel weird.”

“You want kids, though.”

“Yes, I do. And sooner rather than later.”

“Okay, perfect. And with her, right?”

“Of course with her!”

“So, where is the problem? I’m not following or maybe I missed something.”

“I don’t know where the problem is, Pierre! I don’t even know if there is a problem! That’s the problem!”

“Okay… stop freaking out. Get a grip, Charles.”

“I’m not freaking out! Or maybe a little. I don’t know. Do you think I’ll be a great dad?”

“You are amazing with kids, I’ve sen you around my nephews and nieces they love you.”

“But there is a difference between being good with your kids and being good with other people kids. What if my kid resents me because of my job? What if despite trying my best I fail them? What if I’m not making them proud. I want to be the superhero kind of dad, the one they brag about, you know. Not the one they are ashamed of.”

“Charles, you are overthinking it. And I think you have all the answers you need. The fact that you are asking these types of questions just show that you’ll be just good.”

“I don’t want to be just good. I want to be the best dad ever to them.”

From the other side of the Atlantic, Lyanna was freaking out as well, on the phone with her best friend.

“I’m stupid. I’m so stupid. Why did I ever mention kids? Like, I don’t even know where it comes from!”

“It comes from the fact that you have a boyfriend that you love very much and that is not just a random guy in your life, he is the one with who you want to spend your life with. It’s called growing up Lyanna.”

“When did you ever get that wise?”

“It seems like I grew up as well. No but seriously, it will be fine. Talk to him, face to face, I don’t think it’s a conversation to be held over the phone. I’m sure the poor guy is panicking as well.”

“Thank you for listening to my rambling.”

“I love you, you’re my best friend. My annoyingly cute best friend, almost my sister.”

“Shut up you’re going to make me cry!”

“Hormonal much, sweetie?” Emilie joked.

“I hate you!”

When they spoke on the phone later that day, both Lyanna and Charles were careful to avoid any mention of the previous conversation, even though both knew it was on their minds.

Charles scored another podium finish in Canada by taking P3, despite starting from P2, a result of wet weather oscillating between sun and rain and poor tyre management. He was happy to leave Canada, even though it was a track he loved, to finally be able to return to Europe and reunite with Lyanna. Charles didn’t really have the opportunity to enjoy is little time off as it was already time to prepare for Barcelona.

Him and Carlos, especially Carlos, were welcomed warmly by the crowd there, as Lyanna was staying a little on the side, letting Charles talk to his fans and enjoy the moment. She let him do his thing as she started to wander around the paddock, enjoying the sun on her face and the calm before the big rush of the Sunday. She was about to sit outside the Ferrari hospitality with a coffee and a good book when she heard two young girls squealed at her sight.

“Oh my God, oh my God, Lyanna! We are such big fans!”

Lyanna looked in their directions and waved at them. The two girls were wearing Ferrari merch and signed caps with the number 16 on them, making Lyanna smiled.

“Can you sign our caps as well. We already managed to have Charles autographs but we would love to have yours.”

“Yeah, sure. Do you have a sharpie or something? I was not expecting that to happen so I didn’t really come prepare.”

“Well, we did! We love you and Charles together, you are so cute and couple goals together.”

“Thank you! And we’re not goals, believe me. We are a normal couple with their own problems and disagreements sometimes.” she laughed as she was putting her signature next to Charles’.”

“And we are so excited for Flowers and Crown! Ferrari as well! Is Charles doing a cameo in it? There were some rumours online about it.”

“Well, at the risk of disappointing, no Charles in the movie. Between us, I think he is a terrible actor.” she confessed with a wink to the girls.

They chatted for a little while before the two girls leave to roam around the paddock, not without giving to Lyanna a big scrapbook for Charles that they didn’t have the time to give to him.

The weekend ended up with a double podium for Ferrari Charles getting P2 and saw Carlos’ win in his home race. It was a pretty emotional weekend for everyone but there was no time for them to recover as Austria was next.

Charles was pretty confident with the weekend and it was particularly relaxed that they entered the paddock ahead of qualifying. On their way to the hospitality they were both stopped by a journalist who wanted to get a few reactions from Charles.

“So Charles how do you feel about qualifying? And the weekend overall?”

“Pretty good, to be honest. We have the car and the performance and it’s a track where I always had good results. And I have my own personal lucky charm with me, so I’m not worried.”

Lyanna blushed and looked at him weirdly. It was the first time Charles was this open and public with their relationship. The journalist then looked at her.

“What it is like Lyanna, for you, to be there? How important it is?”

“It’s definitely an experience that I’ve never thought I would live that’s for sure. But there is something particularly impressive to watch Charles on track. I’m really proud of him.”

The journalist didn’t take up much more of their time and they both continue to walk to the garage.

“I’d almost said that watching you doing your job was particularly sexy. Thank God I stopped in time or the media team would have had damage control to do” she laughed.

“Sexy, uhm?” he whispered in her ear, her hand in his.

“Very sexy. This red racing suit does inexplicable things to my body.”

“I have a few minutes to spare, care to show me what it does to you?”

Charles ended up on pole right in front of Max. The Dutchman was the first one to congratulate him after the session as they were both headed out of the paddock. As Max started to talk to Charles and explained exactly what he thought went wrong in his performance and how he thought Charles was at the top of his form, Lyanna approached Kathryn, Max’s new girlfriend, after his split with Kelly a few months ago.

“Hey, I don’t think we’ve ever met, I’m Lyanna, Charles’s girlfriend.”

“Nice to meet you. It’s my first Grand Prix, I didn’t know what to expect… it feels a little bit overwhelming.”

“I know what you feel. It’s not easy to manage with two men who attract a lot of attention. But if you ever need a friend here, I’ll be happy to be your. I know a few people as well that would be glad to meet you.”

“Thank you Lyanna. It means a lot.”

And then, it was finally time for Silverstone. Charles had never been the luckiest there but he was feeling on a roll, accumulating podiums and wins and beginning to slightly distance Max in the championship even though he had to be careful since Red Bull first driver was not that far, a mistake from Charles’ end he could easily make a come back. But the stars seemed to be aligned for once for Charles and he finished the race first. He was on roll and Lyanna could see that it was slowly getting to his head and he was cockier than usual, something Lyanna didn’t like very much.

Since Silverstone was once again the same week than Wimbledon, Charles and Pierre were invited and brought Kika and Lyanna along. Lyanna loved tennis, a sport she practised when she was younger and it was the first time that she was attending a game. It was the semi-final Alcaraz-Medvedev, two players that Lyanna loved. She loved and enjoyed every second of it, stressing out for the players, gasping and burying her head into Charles shoulder during moments of tension. She knew that pictures would circulate but she didn’t care, she was comfortable enough in her relationship to not be bothered about what people would think.

After the game, Pierre asked if anyone would be tempted to play to which Lyanna agreed happily. First they decided to make Lyanna play against Charles and Kika against Pierre. Charles was pretty confident he would win and what a surprise it was when she crunched him, winning by far.

“It’s not fair! I had the sun in my eyes and couldn’t see the ball.”

“You are a sore loser. Admit it, I played well.”

“You made me run from one side of the court to the other all the time! I’ve played nice with you.”

“I’ve never asked for you to do that! Finally a sport that I’m better than you! I’m not going to let you live it down!”

“Are you guys up to play double? Let’s say Lya and I against you and Kika.” Charles turned to Pierre who was laughing at something Kika had said.

This time Charles won and it made him really happy.

“I had the best partner to win!” he bragged putting one loose arm around Lya’s shoulders.

“So now, I’m a good player and it was not only luck? Interesting.”

The group continued to laugh together as they later decided to roam around the streets in London, enjoying Lyanna’s comments as she was showing them her favourite places. They spent a few days in the English capital enjoying the little break before Hungary where Ferrari was bringing a huge upgrade package. Unfortunately it didn’t work as well as expected. despite a start P3, Charles had to DNF rather quicky in the race due to a mechanical problem with the engine. It was a frustrated Charles that Lyanna met in is driver’s room.

“Charles, it’s okay. It can happen…”

“It’s not okay, Lyanna! I was fine, I was ahead of Max in the championship, I didn’t have to worry about anything, just to secure a top 5 to get a little bit more of a comfortable advance. But this fucking DNF is making me do a huge step backward! The upgrades were supposed to give us more pace and regularity! Not the other way around!”

“I know that I can’t understand what you feel but…”

“No, you can’t! You don’t know what it is like and you’ll never know! You are just there, looking pretty and cheering me on but you’re not useful in that type of situation, Lyanna.”

“Okay, now you’re mean.”

“I’m not mean! I’m just stating the truth and if you can’t handle it then you are free to go. I don’t need your pity, I don’t need you to try to comfort me when we both know that you know nothing about motorsport and you know nothing about why is it so important for me to win and to win with Ferrari. I can’t offer any mistake, the team either.” he angrily said while throwing his cap towards the door, where Lyanna was standing.

She flinched but did not move. Charles needed to get rid of his frustration and if it had to be on her, then so be it. She knew he didn’t mean anything he said. She preferred seeing him like that all worked up than seeing him keep things to himself and pretend everything was fine.

“Mistakes happen, and you are great enough to bounce back. You did it in the past, you will again.”

“I need to feel that the team is 100% focus and behind me. I can’t DNF for an issue that could have been seen prior and already fixed.”

He sat down the couch and took his head in his hands, sighing. Lyanna didn’t move, letting him process his thoughts on his own.

“I’m sorry, Lya.” he said after a moment. “I didn’t want to snap at you like that, you are not responsible.”

“It’s okay. Sure it was not pleasant but I know you by now. You didn’t mean it.” she sat down beside him putting her hand on his back and tracing small circles. She could feel him relax a bit. “I’m proud of you, no matter what, even if I don’t always understand everything I can see all the hard work and all the love you put in the team. It will pay off. I’m sure of it.”

“I've always thought that I was good at handling the pressure. But there is so much at stake.”

Lyanna could see him slowly breaking down as he was explaining to her all the reasons why he felt insecure about the championship.

“Of course, there is the outside pressure with the media, the fans and all… Of course I want to win for you, for my family and for everyone that believed in me at some point in my life. But, I think… I should I phrase that? I feel guilty and it’s eating me whole.”

She listened to him in silence, letting him process his thoughts and phrase them the way he wanted.

“I’ve never told you that but one of the last things I told my dad before he passed away was that I had secured a seat in F1. It was a lie. I lied to my dad on his death bed, Lya. What kind of son does it makes me? My mom was so mad at me. But my dad… he was so happy. So, so happy. Bu there is a part of me that feels guilty ever since. As if I had betrayed him somehow. It’s stupid I know, especially considering that I did end up in F1 and I’m here in Ferrari and I know that from wherever he is, he is proud. But I think, in order to feel completely in peace with myself, I need to win. It’s more that just a title and a pretty trophy for me, Lya. It’s about making things right.”

“Oh, Charles… come here” she said as she was seeing a tear rolling down his cheek. “It’s not stupid. But you have to let go of the guilt and the pain and remember why you race in the first place, why it makes you so happy. Why are you putting you through all of this, Charles? You don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to but I just want you to think about it. I want you to step in the car happy and not guilty because you feel embodied by some sort of sacred mission. The trophy will be yours and yours only, not anyone else’s and certainly not ghosts’. You have to move forward and not let the past guide you. There are so many amazing things waiting for you.” “I know. You’re one of them. Thank you, I needed to hear that.”

==========================

author's note: Well... we are officialy three chapters away from the end. As usual, let me know your thoughts through the comments or ask box if your too shy. And don't forget to leave a like or reblog the story. It helps. And it lets me know that you like the story.

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[ughgoaway]

Aw no I'm so sorry that you're not feeling good 😔 I wish there was something I could do to help. Have you read toomuchracket sweetheart George series?? These are so fluffy and soft and adorable and just melt me so they might help you feel better 😊 also remember the fic that you write that was SO GOOD where Matty thought teacher was breaking up with him because she was stressed and busy at work and hadn't replied to his messages.

I bet he would be so sweet and gentle and understanding if she was going through a hard time, maybe she's short tempered and feeling low mood but can't put her finger on what's wrong. I feel like he'd want to be there with her all the time but would also understand if she needed some space. he might do things like run her a bath or brush her hair for her. Fill up her water bottle so she stays hydrated or encourage her to go out for some fresh air and a little walk with him.

🎄

I am so sorry for how late i am replying to this, I feel asleep mid-blurb this night, and this got lost in my drafts!!

oh yes, I ADORE the sweetheart George series, mads can literally do no wrong in my eyes!!! that's a very good depression recommendation, though. I will defo keep in mind the next time I'm sad lol

omg, I had completely forgotten about that blurb, yes!!! I remember not liking the finished result when I wrote it, but maybe my brain is playing tricks on me...

don't even with soft matty looking after teacher reader, OH MY HEARTTTTT.

(rambles below the cuttttt)

✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿

despite you being very short with him, matty is still a sweetheart. he has been watching you get more and more tired over the week, and knew tonight would be the night where it all just boiled over.

i think like you said, nothing big happened, just something has been building within you all week, and it's been driving you crazy. and when you start snapping at him, you immediately feel awful. but you just can't help it.

so he was prepared. he went out and bought some nice snacks (fancy m&s snacks for those who know), some nice bath salts, and even a fancy candle that he knows you'll love.

"Oh darling, please stop crying. it's okay, just wanna look after my girl" (this does not work. you just cry again. and then you cry whenever you think about him saying this)

he manages, after some convincing, to get you into the bath he ran for you, and you immediately relax. and then start sobbing because he is so kind and you don't quite know how to deal with it.

matty hears and comes rushing in (after knocking and asking if he can come in, which makes you cry even harder) and he just rubs your back, maybe even offers to wash your hair for you. he uses his fancy curly shampoo and conditioner, which once again makes you cry.

when you get out, you watch a little film, maybe your favourite. you eat the snacks matty got you and just cuddle on the sofa. I think Annie comes home at some point during this, and she can tell you're feeling off.

she doesn't say anything because she's aware enough to know to keep that to herself. she just jumps on the sofa and burrows in between you and matty. He smiles over her head, and he sees your eyes welling up again and can't help but giggle and squeeze you tighter. you lightly laugh at the absurdity of your emotions.

anyway, this is my dream when I am depressed but I just order takeaway and cry :)

maybe you all take mayhem for a walk the next morning, and annie says, "Are you feeling better today y/n?" And you're a bit caught off guard but say, "uh, yes I am sweet girl, thank you for asking. "

she nods and runs off quite happily with mayhem in the park. you look at matty, and he immediately shakes his head, "I didn't tell her anything, promise!" he holds his hands up in faux surrender, and you believe him.

[nesting-dreams]

i see the memes of entp and infp all the time online of infp cartoonishly hating entp and entp being cartoonishly creepy, but a healthy entp and infp relationship is so much more fun to watch in my view. Entp’s and infp’s always have a rough start of misunderstanding, but if they can be mature and look past that. It’s a nice dynamic. I want to use fictional works as examples for this cuz it’s just easier.

I shall give 3 different examples. There is more, but these are my favourites. Marriage: Clara and Doc from back to the future 3. He saves her from dying and they fall for each other, he comes across as the mad doctor in the old west and she is intrigued, and it turns out she was supposed to die, so instead at the end, he offers her to live in time limbo with him so she doesn’t ruin the timeline, but she doesn’t die either. Clara risks dying on a train to be with him by walking on the outside of it to stop him from time jumping without her, he thought it was the best for her to leave her at first, but changed his mind when he saw her do that. She gives off the impression of being this sweet little thing, but her crazy matches his crazy with that train shenanigans and them hanging out throughout the movie. Doc even realised this after that stunt that she’s not normal. He is very happy about it. (Doc’s closest friend is a very mature esfp, who is the only one who really takes him seriously when it’s needed out of most people).

Crushes, but stay friends: Laetitia and Lupin the 3rd. Lupin the third the first. They meet from her throwing a punch at him after he stole from her after she set the cops on him, so she could steal this book that the Nazi’s wanted, and also again when she assaults him with her shoe later on. He makes her genuinely angry at one point and he realises he pushed the wrong button, what she got mad about was he told a lie about someone she admired and she fact corrects him and gets annoyed with him for trying to make her feel stupid. He got upset with her cuz she poked him back as a retort, but she backs off too when she realised she upset him. She dreamily wishes to solve ancient mysteries for the romance and fantasy of it. He wants to solve it for profit and the romance of it. After the suspicion has died down, They start out arguing looking for some ancient technology, the arguments don’t actually last long. It is not mean spirited arguing. Lupin’s really sweet to her for the rest of the movie. It is not often in the series he shows a sweet side like this. He tried kissing her and both developed a crush on the other. Laetitia loves the arguments and she also playfully sasses to his naughty comments. They both smirk at each other a lot knowingly. Because she looks like a puppy, he denies that he falls for it and makes fun of others for falling for it but he takes one look at her when he at first does not want too and he basically does anything she asks. He helps her out by going behind her back and using trickery to help her and others. She is more authentic and genuine and up front about helping him and others. She Cries when failure happens and he cheers her up, by showing her that he will back her up when she fails, and they help each other reach a common goal. They bounce ideas of each other, she shows her knowledge on things and he does the same. Both have different knowledge that helps each other to their common goal. She is genuinely impressed outloud with his smarts while he does not say it out loud, he gets excited for her when she gets passionate. He actively encourages her to use her head more. Later in the movie, he had jumped out a plane without a parachute for her to save her. Normally he thinks things through, but he didn’t for that one. He does sometimes have bursts of stupidity inbetween the genius. She does not hide her worry for him whenever he gets hurt or she thinks something bad may happen to him which I think does make an impact of him being gentle with her. He doesn’t usually hang around such soft people. both have the same idea when it comes to ending a disaster that happens. She tries blowing up this plane with her in it to stop it being used in killing people, but it does not go as planned. He tries the same thing later cuz while he did want to use it for himself what was found, he realised it was too much trouble “human’s aren’t ready for this yet”. He had a backup plan unlike her to escape before he would get consumed by the explosion. (Other people Lupin became friends with who he had a rocky start with (by rocky start I mean that they also tried to beat him up cuz he was insufferable first meeting: estp, Esfp, Infj, istp (out of these he is softest to the infj. I think it’s that introverted feelers that makes his fe want to take care of the introverted feelers people like Laetitia and Goemon. It’s nice seeing how gently he treats Goemon and Laetitia. He does show his sweet side to Esfp, but at some point he stops because Esfp does not take it seriously. I think he wonders what is the point in showing it to her and he reverts back to his usual attitude). Other people he got along with right away: Intp (he sees her as a niece cuz she’s 14). Who he respects yet he always messes with him: Estj. (Laetitia respects an estj called Zenigata and he is really nice to her. It’s nice seeing the stereotype of an infp and estj hating each other thrown in the trash like that computer meme).

Goemon knows how to roast, he has dark ideas and take jabs, but Lupin never really takes it too far with him. He pokes and prods, but not as much as he does with the others. The infj and infp respond positively to him being nicer, so he keeps doing it. They are his moral compass. Meanwhile, his istp friend tends to keep a distant to help and emotions. Lupin is best friends with the istp, he’d jump into a running bus for him, istp would do the same, but they don’t often have a heart to heart. Their play is more rough and they can take the more serious pokes and jabs at each other. (Lupin healthily boosts Laeitita’s Te to the surface which has her notice when she is being manipulated and to be more practical and to use her head in finding out more information on the person manipulating her (she is an adult infp so she actually is good at using it on her own, he just helps her use it even more and in a more practical sense). both connect with their si and Ne, honestly the nicest parts of the movie is when they’re just talking with each other quietly and not moving the plot forward. He also boosts up Goemon’s Se which has Goemon experience things more in life on a whim, he also helps Goemon notice when he’s being manipulated, but if Goemon has noticed he is being manipulated, he usually is not sure what to do if his usual methods don’t work, so Lupin helps him out of that situation. Meanwhile, both Laetitia and Goemon boost Lupin’s Fe to the surface and make him a nicer person in a healthy way. Meanwhile, with others he can be callous at times and not listen to them. He does not like to see Goemon and Laetitia sad and does his best to make them smile even at his own expense. He acts like a cheerleader for both in a way).

Mentor and student: Dazai, entp mentor, Atsushi, infp student. Bungou stray dogs. Dazai had saved Atsushi from homelessness with the usual trickery behind his back thing. And Atsushi is grateful and just stayed with the detective agency. At first, Dazai tries to keep a distance emotionally, pushing buttons. Atsushi becomes more confident and sassy because of Dazai, and Dazai feels like someone cares about him for once in his life so he softens. He gets in trouble and most of the people in this series just shrug it off, but Atsushi’s almost the only one worrying about him (Dazai got taken away by the mafia and Atsushi started worrying where Dazai has been for the past couple of days while the others don’t worry about it). Dazai loves that his student is so willing to listen to him, even his silly little antics, yet sass him back. Atsushi feels the most comfortable around Dazai aside from Kyoka. Dazai’s incredibly sweet to his student. These two have moments where they can talk about stuff with each other that they can’t with others. entp in mentor roles to infp always feel like that disgruntled dad adopting a stray puppy who’s looking for a home, at first the dad doesn’t want it, but he’s not going to throw the puppy out cuz that’d be cruel, but then he will throw a table if you even insist on finding the puppy a new home or suggest putting it down, eventually. Meanwhile, infp’s are just in general protective of their love ones right away. (Who Dazai was close to who died: Infj / someone he is friends with but won’t admit it: Entj/ Atsushi works with an estj who he respects greatly, they’re not friends or close, but both respect each other. You don’t see that happen often, but it can happen. It’s nice seeing the stereotype not being around for once in fiction / Kyoka is an isfp). Bonus cuz I’m not writing more cuz I’ll just keep repeating myself. Family: Edward and Alphonse from full metal alchemist. Yuta and Gojo from Jujutsu kaisen (Gojo is also his mentor). The family dynamic is a lot like the student and teacher I wrote with entp always being the oldest sibling or oldest distant cousins.

For Entp and infp to work, infp needs to have a bite to them from years of life experience and entp needs to soften from years of life experience. Most infp’s and entp’s in reality do mention being fond of the other. They always are great together in fiction too. I’m not sure exactly where these memes come from of them only hating each other, obviously there will be some infp and entp who dislike each other, but I hear more good than bad. Only an infp (and infj) can apparently make Entp feel this “strange protectiveness” over them that does not really come out for other people. (Side note. I also love seeing enfp/intj and intp/enfj together. they really do bring the best out of each other without overshadowing the other and putting them in a box. They all start out annoying each other, but can’t deny being drawn to each other).

[dira333]

The Road Not Taken - part 3

Shibi x  female reader with a name - arranged marriage

Summary: Airi Nara seems a hopeless case, until her grandmother sets her up for an arranged marriage. But was marrying Shibi Aburame the right choice after all?

Character Sheet - Masterlist - part 4

tagging: @spellcasterlight for the headcanon that Shino and Shibi are not into sweets and @wing-ed-thing​ for the Honey Stand Series that made me believe they have at least half a dozen jars of Honey around. (if you want to be tagged in this, let me know)

Shino had not wanted to nap today, and the fact that Chiasa had asked three times told you that he usually did. 

But he was stubborn, refusing rest just as much as letting you out of sight.

He was a quiet kid, that much was clear, the only thing that could get him talking were questions about bugs of any kind. 

Where Shikamaru liked to be carried whenever possible, he wanted to walk himself, rejecting every offer of carrying him until you took pity and insisted that you needed the rest yourself. He had almost fallen asleep next to you then, in the warm autumn sun, watching over the pumpkin patches as you busied your hands with another carving.

But Muta had shown up then, a boy of about 12 years and a cousin of Shino. He’d just graduated from the academy and used a break from training to run home, stopping to talk to you.

“We live over there.” He pointed to a house near the pumpkin patches, the left side of it overgrown with hop. “Father said I should invite you over when I see you.”

“Oh, is he here?”

“No, but Mother is.” He went still for a second. “Lunch is done. Do you want to come in?”

“We shouldn’t. Shibi might come home any minute and we haven’t made lunch yet.”

He was quiet again but he did not move. The Aburame seemed to need more time to formulate their responses, so you waited patiently, fighting down the little annoyance that had arisen when Muta’s arrival had stopped Shino from dozing off.

“Aburame-san will not be home for lunch. Why? The debriefing is taking longer than planned.”

“Oh. Well, if he said so, I guess we can come over. What do you think, Shino?”

You turn toward the boy.

“We should. Why? Toshiko-san has invited us.”

Toshiko, Muta’s mother, is as quiet as her son. As it turns out, she’s Shibi’s sister-in-law and not a born Aburame.

You want to ask if their marriage had also been arranged but you don’t dare in front of the children.

As it turns out, you shouldn’t have worried about that. Muta and his father use Shōkaichū, a insect different to the Kikaichu that Shino uses and when Muta has to leave for training, Shino has no qualms about sitting in front of a glass container watching them move.

“I am from a smaller village not far from Konoha. I married into the Aburame Clan about 9 years ago.” Toshiko smiles warmly. “I know well how you feel.”

You blink surprised. “Was your marriage-”

“Arranged? Yes. Our village consists mostly of farmers and we rely on Konoha for protection. It is not unusual for women from our village to marry into Konoha and those arrangements are often made because a girl catches the sight of a Shinobi passing through or working a mission there. Kenji is not much of a talker. He works with worms instead of bugs which wasn’t that great for his popularity. I caught his eye once on a mission and he got Chiasa-san to talk to my parents. The rest is history.” Her smile is warm at the memory.

“How was it for you, settling in such a big village?”

Toshiko laughs, her darker skin not shawing any signs of a blush but she’s fanning her cheeks to cool them down. 

“Oh, remembering those first weeks. I was like a newborn fawn. Everything scared me. And to think that almost everyone here is a Shinobi! Even you. I loved being around Zoka, though. She was so different and made me feel right at home.”

“Zoka?” You ask.

“Oh,” Toshiko presses a hand to her lips. “Shino’s mother.” She whispers with a look at the boy. Shino’s still focused on the worms.

“Shibi doesn’t talk about her, I know.” She sighs. “It was awful for him when she died. For all of us.”

“I can only imagine.” You say, your voice heavy with emotion. 

Losing someone before you can start your life together is one thing, but losing them on the happiest day of your life - the birth of your child - is something entirely else.

“We shouldn’t talk about her, though.” Toshiko’s hands are busy pouring tea now, putting little pieces of pastry onto your plate, and doing everything to keep moving.

It’s not hard to guess that no one wants to talk about her for fear of disrupting the peace.

You’d like to know more but you know how to pick your battles. And this is neither the time nor the right person for it.

“Tell me about the work you do. I want to help and get a good insight into what needs to be done day to day.”

“Oh, you should take notes. There’s a lot to do around here.”

-

Shino’s sitting in the living room, his exhaustion forgotten over the book he’s reading. He’s making slow progress today, however, a testament to his exhaustion, but you leave him to it. Toshiko has lent you one of her cookbooks, familiar with the struggle to switch from regular to vegetarian meals. 

The food is almost ready when the door opens, Shibi bringing in the sounds and smells of rain.

You’re happy to see him, the warm emotion followed shortly by a burst of cold guilt. 

Tomorrow, you tell yourself quietly as you move to greet Shibi, you’ll stop by the graveyard and pay your respects to Jurou. 

You’re a bit distracted as you greet him, your thoughts pulling you into directions you don’t want to go. At least until Shibi admits that he hasn’t eaten since breakfast.

Only when the rebuke doesn’t come you realize how much you’ve grown to expect it.

In Yori’s household, there was either perfection or failure, no in-between.

But, you suspect, it’s only your second day with the Aburame’s. Things can still change.

And as if he’s heard you, Shino refuses to help set the table.

After him being by your side every minute the last two days and trying to help with everything whether it was wanted of him or not, it’s a little surprising. 

“I’ll help you.” Shibi offers instead, following you into the kitchen. There, he pulls something from his coat.

“I got you something. Why? I want you to feel at home here.”

Package after package is loaded into your arms. There’s chocolate - and not the cheap kind - and Umeboshi, all in all about ten different candies in great variety.

You don’t know what’s more surprising. The generosity, or how he delivers it.

As if it was only natural to bring home sweets for you just after you’ve mentioned that you liked eating them. 

“I-” You stop and press one hand to your lips to gather yourself.

Tears are threatening to spill. You’ve spent years buying and eating sweets in secret because Yori was nothing but adamant that you’d ruin your figure if you’d got just a piece of chocolate into your hands. 

Considering his intentions, he’s successful. It makes you feel right at home.

“That’s very kind of you, Shibi.” You tell him quietly, words still catching a little in your throat.

Your resolve to speak to him after dinner is now stronger than ever.

You might not be in love with him and vice versa, but for Shino’s sake and your combined happiness you can work at something resembling a family.

“Let’s eat, shall we?”

-

“I don’t want to go to bed.” Shino’s adamant. 

You’re not sure if you’re reading Shibi’s face correctly but he looks surprised as well.

“You need to go to bed. Why? The Kikaichu need rest as much as you do.”

“You’re not going to bed either.” Shino’s mouth is pulled into a line and you lower yourself onto the floor next to him.

“Do you know why we rest at night?”

He blinks in surprise at you. “Because we need it?”

“Yes. Our body is a miracle, but it has to do a lot of work to keep us healthy. Some things it can only do while we are asleep. And one of these things is growth. If you’d stop sleeping now, you wouldn’t grow anymore or only a little. That’s why we want you to have the right amount of sleep. We want you to grow tall and strong. Your father and I have already grown as tall as we can and we know that our body doesn’t need as many hours of rest but it still needs the rest.”

“I want to stay up longer. Why? I want to spend time with Father.”

You nod in understanding. 

“I understand. Sometimes your father has to work in the evenings. It’s okay to go to bed early then, right? But when you know that he has time for you in the evening, you can take a nap around lunchtime. That way you can go to bed a bit later. Would that be okay? We can start that only tomorrow, though, because you could not nap today.”

Shino considers your words for a moment before he nods, arms crossed over his chest.

“That is okay. Can you tell me a story before I go to bed?” He turns to his father.

“A story?” Shibi looks at a loss.

“I will explain it to him.” You tell Shino. “How about you brush your teeth and get ready in the meantime?”

Shino nods and makes his way up the stairs, still a bit slower than necessary, trying to lengthen the time he can be awake.

“I told him a good night story yesterday.” You explain to Shibi when Shino is out of sight. “My parents used to do that for me when I was little. It helped me fall asleep.”

“What kind of stories?”

“They can be educational or silly. Sometimes they told me what they did that day, without me. It doesn’t have to be long. I don’t know how you’ve done it before, but my parents usually ended the story by kissing my temple and telling me that they would be right next door if I needed them. That always gave me this sense of security that made me fall asleep right away.”

Shibi’s quiet after your explanation. 

Eventually, Shino’s voice is heard from upstairs.

“I’m ready.” He calls out.

“He’s calling for you.” Shibi explains. “Why? He only talks when he needs to. You can’t communicate with him through the Kikaichu.”

“When we’re both home, we should both say good night.” You get up from the floor and lead the way. 

“Do you have a story in mind?” You ask, your voice quiet as you walk up the stairs. “I can lend you one.”

“I’ll try my best.”

“Hey,” You greet Shino warmly at the door of his room. “Mind if I come in too? Do you want a kiss or a hug?”

He looks unsure. 

“You can have both if you can’t decide.”

He nods and sits up in bed so you can hug him. He’s a bit stiff in your arms and you wonder how often he’s gotten hugged before. The Aburame Clan is a tight-knit group but they are not very touch-driven, it seems. 

When you brush your hand through his hair, a few Kikaichu stick to your fingers.

“Look.” You tell him with a smile. “They want to say good night too.”

He opens his hands to call them back to him and you lean forward to press your lips onto his temple, right between his eyes.

“Good night. Sleep tight. And don’t let the bed bugs bite you.”

-

Shibi comes down half an hour later and takes a seat on the other end of the Couch.

You’ve made tea but your cup is still almost full, the package of chocolate, however, is almost completely gone.

“Do you want a piece?” You hand one to him, surprised that he actually takes it.

You take the last one and drop it into your mouth, savoring the taste. It’s really good chocolate.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“How were your parents like, Shibi?” His name rolls off your tongue like glass marbles. He doesn’t react to it. Is it the first time you’ve called him by his first name?

“They were good parents.”

“Were they strict? Or did they give you a lot of freedom? And did they give you both the same rules or was one more lenient than the other?”

“My father was the Clan head. His word was to be followed. He died when I was a Genin and my mother held the position until I was old enough to lead. I don’t know if they were strict, as you call it. Why? Nothing they told me was hard to follow.”

“My father was a dreamer. Pretty lazy too. I think it’s an inherent Nara trait. A lot of us have a genius brain to combat that but my father did not. If I did not want to do something, my father would not have minded. My mother tried to combat it but she was never really eager.”

You pause for a second to calm your nerves.

“You might wonder why I’m telling you this and asking these questions. We talked about my role in this family and I think… I think Shino would benefit if we are a united front. You’re the Clan head and it’s like you said, your words are to be followed, but it goes beyond that. I need to know about the rules in this Clan, even those that are unspoken.”

Shibi’s quiet and you take your chance to push further.

“And I’d like to make some suggestions. If you don’t like them, fine, we don’t have to implement any of that. But I’d like you to think about it. One thing that I think you should consider… Well… I think you should talk to Shino about his mother.”

Shibi moves as if you’d just slapped him across the face. His eyes are hidden behind his glasses but you’re pretty sure he’s staring at you.

When he speaks, the words are rough around the edges and you listen very carefully. He’s a quiet man and quiet waters run deep. There will come a time when you overstep and you don’t know him well enough to know how he’ll react.

“Why? He has you.”

You swallow thickly.

“My financés name was Yasuda Jurou. He was an orphan without a Clan. I haven’t spoken about him in a while and if I don’t remember him, who will?” Your voice shakes as you speak but it does not break.

“I have not lived through your heartbreak, Shibi. But you should think about this.”

-

You don’t sleep well that night.

What if you read Shibi wrong? What right do you have to make demands, on your second day as his wife, no less?

He’s not only a Clan head but a powerful Jonin as well.

It was the sweets, you guess, that made you brave. His quiet generosity toward you, something he didn’t need to do but did so nonetheless.

You hadn’t talked much more after that, had spent over an hour just sitting there in Silence.

And it had been tense but not awkward. 

Shibi didn’t seem someone who used Silence as a passive-agressive weapon, but rather as necessary means in conversation.

As he didn’t get up to leave or urge you to speak, you had felt compelled to follow his example, let the Silence envelope you as you gave him room to think, even dared to lean forward to brush your lips against his cheek before you went to bed yourself.

Your morning starts earlier than usual. You can’t sleep anyway, so why not use the hours to get a head start?

First, you open every cupboard in the kitchen again, taking stock of what is where. 

You find a few jars of honey, pull the rice flower out of another cupboard and start preparing, your former plan overthrown by your need to stress bake. 

By the time Shino appears at the kitchen door, the room smells like the inside of a cake.

“What are you making?” He asks.

“Honey Kasutera. Do you want to try it?”

He comes to your side and eyes the sponge cake with curious eyes. 

“Is it sweet?”

“Yes. It’s not a breakfast food but you can have a piece for breakfast if you want. I’m making Bento Boxes as well, do you want to help form the Onigiri?”

He nods, his eyes still focused on the cake.

“Why is it so big?”

“It’s for the whole Clan. I thought we could bring something to every house later. Would you like that?”

Save for those sweet, calm moments you have with Shino in the kitchen, breakfast is a quiet, quick affair.

Shibi’s quiet, only tells you that he will be out the whole day.

When Shino then promptly reminds him to take his Bento with him and tells both of you proudly that he will take a nap to be able to spend time together in the evening, Shibi nods but utters no words.

When you send him away with a kiss to his cheek and Shino steps up to hug his legs, however, Shibi bends down and presses his own lips against the thick mess of hair atop Shino’s head.

“I’ll see you at dinner.” He reminds both of you and leaves without another look back.

“Well,” You look at Shino, “Let’s clean up so we can start delivering the cake.”

For a Clan that produces honey, the Aburame Clan members are not half as interested in sweets as you are. But they are polite to a fault, everyone inviting you in for a cup of tea and a quick chat to the point where you have to ask everyone for a chance to use the restroom.

At the end of the day your head is swimming from all the names and faces, the different bugs that each part of the family uses, and the sheer size of the compound.

Shino has taken his nap at Muta’s place, his head in your lap, his legs stretched out on the Couch.

Toshiko doesn’t hide her smile when you brush your hands through his hair.

“You’re really taken to him, huh?”

“I’ve always loved children. I thought I would have my own by now but life never goes as planned, does it?”

She looks surprised. 

“What do you mean?”

For a moment, you want to bite your tongue and switch to a safer topic. But you’ve made your point with Shibi and if you don’t stick to the same rules, it would make you nothing less of a hypocrite.

“I was engaged. His name was Yasuda Jurou. Originally the wedding should have taken place around the time the Nine-Tailed-Fox attacked but that pushed the date back.”

You pause, swallow, the memory still clogging up your throat like it did 4 years ago.

“Did he die in the attack?” Toshiko asks, her voice soft and compassionate.

“No.” You take a deep breath. “A few weeks later, we had a new day set, we were sent on a mission and a few things went terribly wrong.” You point at your left eye. “He died on that mission.”

“I’m so sorry.” Toshiko leans over to put her hand on yours, the touch surprisingly soothing to your inner turmoil.

“He was a good man.” You can hear yourself say, the words slipping out of your mouth, “Jurou, I mean. I haven’t talked about him in a while because my - the people around me were never as close to him as I was and it felt like it bothered them that I couldn’t stop talking about him.”

“What was he like?”

You snort softly, the sound surprising to both of you.

“He was a bit of an idiot. But he was incredibly talented and he could motivate people. I felt lucky every day that he chose me, you know.”

She nods. “I know that feeling.” Toshiko hesitates for a moment, her eyes on Shino who’s stirring in your lap, slowly but surely pulling from sleep.

“If you want to talk, I’m here for you.”

[piperjistic]

Tear to Shreds: Kenji Kon

Okay so since it’s on my mind, Jurassic Park: Camp Cretaceous, I’m making it everyone’s problem.

Aight so Sammy, Darius, Yasmin, and Ben are the best characters. Fuck Kenji and Brooklyn. Brooklyn gets an excuse because she’s useful on occasion (If we ignore the sequel series but I digress). Kenji? Hell nah. But Kenji is deadass the worst character in the entire show. I want to box this man, I want him to shut the fuck up.

Okay rant part over. Logic now. Kengi comes from a very privileged background, rich (crime) dad with no mom. So daddy issues. I… Personally I’m over characters having daddy issues with how frequent it is but Darius sorta has them (Dad dies directly before the show but he moves forward), so I can let it slide. But Kenji is just the standard privilege lazy rich kid that learns humility, stops being a complete asshole, touch grass, and get actual friends.

However, over the course of the show… He only develops one of those. Can you guess which one it is that’s desperately needed in a survival situation?

If you guessed touch literal grass, you are correct and obtuse. If you guess developed friends, you are correct and no obtuse. Good job superstar- Anyway, through trauma-bonding and stuck on the island for months, they all become BFFs. Yet that doesn’t change him from being an asshole that doesn’t humble himself or touch grass.

He’s meant to be close Darius and be an deuteragonist with Brooklyn but… it just doesn’t work with his character. Fine, your father is a super blackmarket business boss, even having assets on said island or the nearby one. Fine, he left his son to die on that island. Fine, Kenji was probably raised by maids, left with no ambition except for attention starved and approval of his father. Fine. But this isn’t anything new or creative. This is old and literally every scenario of rich kid stereotype getting a reality check.

You know who was this type of character but better? Amity Blight. And yet she’s cute and goofy and loving and develop her own ambitions (winning the tournament like her father). Kenji isn’t and doesn’t. Shit, she doesn’t try to take control or pretend to be a leader when she’s out of her league. Kenji does.

He infuriates me whenever he’s on screen. Yeah, he chills out with the arrogance to an extent as time goes on, but he constantly tries to one up Darius or is portrayed better than him without doing the work. He does rightfully get mad when its either a laptop or his friend (crush), but said laptop contained important info on dinos that should be kept out of the mercenaries grasp. He gets mad at Darius, specifically saying “friends don’t trade friends for things”, as if Darius needed to learn that lesson and everyone else was on board with it. He does this the most with Darius but he acted as if he knew better with Yas when she had her injured foot which keeps her from running and walking. This would be a good way to deepen her character and give us more of her background- nope Kenji is assigned to her to remove rubble to rebuild camp. Oh, he doesn’t do what was asked of him, and forces Yas to rest. Yes, Yas needs to rest but she would feel a lot better if you did your portion of the work or something. But no, you’re lazy and “right” in the scenario.

It doesn’t help that the group is more pro-dino that everyone else and you just go along with it yet act pro-dino. It makes sense why Darius, Sammy, and Ben are super pro dino and actively help them, Yas and Brooklyn just so happen to help out of a indirect reason, while Kenji hangs in the back. Darius loves dinos to begin with and his dad love them to. Sammy is a sweet girl and apart of a family farm with animals. Ben has a pet dino so best way to keep Bumpy safe. Yas? She likes Sammy so cool, but also she’s the one throughout the show that has the least amount of scenes helping dinos I believe, I get it. She’s only there because of a sponsorship for her track career. Brooklyn loves conspiracy theories and discovering the truth, dinos are simply the surface of it and find them cool so will help out. Kenji…. Kenji just goes along with it. Not a single interest and only tie is crime father. You can’t be for dinos while not actually for them. I can excuse Bumpy for being the group pet but outside of that, nothing.

The only progress besides chilling out and the plot with his father coming to the island is Brooklyn becoming his girlfriend. Yet that almost withers away expeditiously because his father is trying to separate him from his friends. Cool manipulation tactic bro but it undermines the relationship building they just got finished with. It’s fine if the relationship doesn’t work in the future, like the sequel series (Kenji tried tho I’ll give him that), but it literally just started at that point. Muhahaha I will sabotage their date so he can hang with me and my investors. Smh. This is why I stick with Sammy & Yas together, only lesbians can get it right.

Oh, and I hate his design, from clothes to body. His shoulders are too broad and look un-proportional to his body. He doesn’t do sports or anything, there’s no reason for them to look pronounced. I think they were trying to go for a jock look yet it wasn’t fitting at all. His clothes are generic for a rich kid and the only “personal touch” are two white lines at where the sleeves start which brings even more attention to how he’s built wrong. Ew.

The more I write, the more I think Kenji was their favorite character that had to have plot relevance about crime dad. It continues in the sequel series as Brooklyn before being presumed dead ended up linking money from his dad to get dino info. They go to the dad to figure out what’s going on, one last manipulation attempt then “oh I cared about you, I’ll sacrifice for you” moment. They get a lead and move on. Kenji then proceeds to get on Darius’ case about how “if you loved her so much why we’re you there”, like what the fuck??? Using that against him when you know he still isn’t over it. Darius sent hundreds of voicemails to her phone after her death as a way to be in denial and connect with her. And you say that shit afterwards, guilt tripping him further???? I, I want him to get fed to those raptors chasing them. Fucking hell.

Sorry if this is incoherent but I need to grip my teeth into paper and tear that shit up into shreds. It gives me the satisfaction that this will be the closest I get to do in real life. 😌 There’s another season to go so please let him get his ass beat and actual humility. 👏🏼

[silvfyre-writings]

Rest well, my love (BSD Fanfic)

Hello, I bring more bramran because you will have to pry this ship from my cold dead hands. This time, a sickfic, because what pairing doesn't have at least one sickfic?

This time, we have something that's short and sweet, so I hope you all enjoy!!!

It isn’t the sun that wakes Bram, nor is it an alarm clock, but instead it is a series of sneezes that come from right beside him that drag him out of slumber and into the world of the living. He keeps his eyes closed, in hope of being able to go back to sleep, but it proves hopeless when a groan sounds, followed by a ragged cough that truly sounds retched, and that’s when Bram opens his eyes, blinking slowly. Another cough echoes throughout the room.

As his eyes adjust to the morning light, Bram shifts to look at the one making these noises, the much smaller form of Edogawa Ranpo tucked against his chest, sniffling miserably. His love’s eyes are crusted with sleep and dried tears, and Bram raises a hand to gently brush his thumb over them, wiping away the gunk without another thought. Ranpo’s nose is also bright red and runny, which explains the near constant sniffling he’s been hearing since he woke up. And accompanied by the occasional cough, it’s clear that Ranpo is very much sick.

How unfortunate.

Bram frowns. It’s not often that Ranpo falls ill—when he does, it’s usually because he was neglecting to take care of himself, or, he was caught in a storm—but whenever he does, it’s never a fun time. Whatever illness that his love contracts always seems to go out of its way to make his life a living hell, and it usually falls to Bram to take care and make sure that he doesn’t get any worse. Not that Bram minds, because when he’s ill, Ranpo becomes extremely affectionate, wanting to cling and cuddle far more than he normally does, and honestly, Bram loves it.

He loves to be relied on, to be appreciated and praised for his efforts when he spent so many years prior being used by those around him.

“Ranpo.” Bram smooths his hand down Ranpo’s cheek, watching as the other mans eyes scrunch before flicking open. It doesn’t take long for Ranpo to squeeze them shut again.

“Nngh.”

Bram continues his gentle touches. “My love, you need to let go of me.”

The response comes quick, Ranpo tightening his grip and muttering a quiet no.

“I promise to return.” Bram says, shifting his focus to Ranpo’s hair, running his fingers through, over and over, until finally, Ranpo loosens his grip and he’s able to pull away. “Thank you.”

“Come back quick, I’m cold.” Ranpo whines, sniffling pitifully as he buries himself under the blankets, disappearing from view.

Bram watches fondly for a moment before he sets off to complete his self-given task. Because of Ranpo’s frequent run-ins with sickness, Bram had to learn very quick how to handle each illness as it came—even though he rarely dealt with more than a summer cold—and now, he considers himself quite adept at it. Seldom does Ranpo complain about the way he’s tended to, and even Ranpo’s colleagues resort to calling him whenever the younger tries to power his way through the workday, and subsequently fails.

First comes the basics; a glass of water, some medicine that will take every bone in his body to convince Ranpo to take the innocent pills, and a washcloth. As he walks around the kitchen, gathering what he needs, he thinks. He’s pretty sure that whatever illness Ranpo has contracted is still in the early stages, which means that with plenty of rest and a little bit of doting, it’ll pass by in the blink of an eye. At least, that’s what Bram hopes, because seldom do these bouts go the way he hopes.

But he pushes that worry away, knowing that if he lingers on it, it’s more likely to happen.

Once he has everything he needs, Bram heads back to the bedroom, stopping by the bathroom quick to wet the cloth. He crawls back into bed, juggling everything in his hands so that he can try and coax Ranpo into revealing his face. “I have some medicine for you. And water.”

The whine is followed by a harsh cough. “’m fine.”

Bram raises an eyebrow, and tugs at the covers again. “You absolutely are not fine.”

“Am to.” Ranpo pokes his head free, looking just a little worse than when Bram had left him earlier. He doesn’t say anything though, as he coaxes Ranpo into sitting up to lean against him. Ranpo complains, as he does, and Bram shushes him quietly, wiping the sweat from his face with the damp cloth.

Ranpo leans into his touch, a content hum escapes him, and his eyes slip shut. “Feels nice…”

“That’s because you have a fever.” Bram says, give Ranpo’s face another clean before he discards the cloth. He offers up the water and the medicine. “Take these.”

“Don’t want to.”

“Ranpo.”

For a moment they stare each other down, but if there’s one thing that Bram has perfected over the time that he and Ranpo have been dating, it’s how to out-stubborn the younger, and sure enough, Ranpo looks away with a sigh, a hand rising up to take the medicine and water. It only takes him a second to down the medicine, and a few more to finish the water, and once that’s done, Bram finds himself being dragged back down.

He allows it, shifting onto his side so that he can draw Ranpo into his arms, smiling to himself when his love snuggles closer to him, tucking his head underneath his chin. Bram can feel Ranpo’s feverish forehead against his skin, an uncomfortable warmth that promises to cause problems lest he get it under control early, and soft puffs of air against his neck as Ranpo breathes softly, careening back into the sleep he was awoken from.

Which is good, because rest will help Ranpo to heal faster.

Bram helps the process along by tightening his grip, entangling one hand into Ranpo’s hair, and smoothing the other along Ranpo’s spine. Not only is it soothing to Ranpo and will help him sleep better, it’s calming to Bram as well, and already he feels ready to sleep again.

Before he does though, he makes a mental note to wake in a couple of hours and check on Ranpo’s condition.

Rest well, my love, I will take care of you.