#I don’t think I’d ever mark any of them as abandoned any time soon

[paintedkinzy-88]

hi! first of all, i gotta say i love your art, you are incredibly skilled at drawing dynamic dragons and they are so pleasing to look at :D

i was reading your winged sans series, i dunno if this has been asked before but do you have any plans on continuing the series?/nf i love your writing and find it hard to find many sans au fics that characterise the sanses as well as you do lol

thanks for reading this!

Thank you, first off!! That means so much you have no idea ;w;

The answer is yes! Sort of…

I WANT to continue Winged. I have some plotlines I want to explore still, some loose ends that need tying. I never got into Dream’s side of things, or really dug into Ink and Nightmares relationship, and more importantly, the whole ass thing with Classic’s world and Nightmare’s interest in it. I have plans! I want those plans to be fleshed out and shared!

I just don’t have the motivation for it right now?? It’s really hard for me to write in general, for the fandom I’m head over heels for at the moment, so trying to even think about writing for a fandom I’m still fond of, but not as involved in anymore? It’s a lot. I gotta lot going on as is and I’m trying to juggle it as best I can.

Honestly, specifically with Winged, I’m kinda at the point that you could just ask me what I planned to do with a plot line and I’d probably just tell you lmfaoooo. I want people to know! I just don’t know when/if I’ll get around to writing it out officially. ;-;

I’m sorry, that’s probably not what you want to hear! I appreciate that you like the story so much, seriously, I really hope I’m able to swing back around to it one day! (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

[its-crowning]

Found out I got pregnant on accident today, have been jumping between breaking down crying and scared and cumming hard to your stories, knowing it's going to be me soon. I'm passing as a guy but not for long, this baby is gonna wreck everything for me and I never thought that would turn me on so much. I don't even know who the dad is. I'm so excited to have my life fall apart and watch my body betray me to grow a baby I don't want.

I'm already planning to hide it the whole time as long as possible, and give birth unassisted at home. You literally might be the only person I tell that I'm pregnant, if everything goes well. I don't want anybody to ever know I screamed out some jerk's brat and abandoned it at a shelter. I just want to carry this thing until it's due, give birth, and go back to my life like it never happened. But I had to tell someone, and admit how much I hate this, but love it at the same time.

(anon, for the sake of horny i’m going to assume this is rp. if this is true, please consider at least getting some medical help, even if just at the birth. my stories/posts are horny fictions and are not to be replicated irl if you can help it. if you need abortion resources, i’d be happy to try and help you find them, too.)

now that i’ve recused myself of responsibility…

I understand the impulse to get bred by randoms. But you’ve marked yourself as a slut…hide it though you may try, your belly will swell and round out with life. it’ll settle in your hips. you might bind the belly, or wear layers, or slouch to try and hide your spherical gut, but your burdened waddle will give you away. any reaction you have to the baby’s movement will give you away. there will be at least one passerby that knows what’s become of you. man though you might look, there’s only so round you can get before it stops being passable as a beer belly. before everyone knows the truth—you’re going to have a baby.

you know it too. the weight seems to increase day by day. you’ll never be able to not think about what has been done to you—and you don’t even know who to blame. whose cumshot it was that led to this thing kicking you from the inside.

i can only imagine the dread you’ll feel as you enter labor. scared and alone, not wanting the baby, just wanting to go out and enjoy life like everyone else, without heavy, hard-headed consequences stretching out your genitals. but you won’t be able to—you’re paying the price for letting those men inside you. birthing one of their bastards like a broodmare.

and god knows you won’t learn your lesson. i imagine you’ll find yourself swelling again within the year.

[a-wanderersdiary]

Diary of a Wanderer-Entry Thirty One

“Sometimes, you gotta see what others have lost, to remind you of what you’re lucky to have.”

Don said that earlier. Whilst he was helping me change my bandages. We’re still in the ransacked camp we came across the other day. Originally, one of the two survivors said we could only stay for the night. But I guess my cooking convinced vir to let us stay a little longer.

Vi calls virself “Morri.” Said its short for Morrigan...

O Queen of air and darkness, I think 'tis truth you say...

Morri looks like half a bandit virself. Hair dyed with gods know what, deep indigo and cut into a rough punk style. Leather jacket decorated with paint, tip-ex and patches. Slogans and bands from a world long gone.

Vi’s still not said a word to the other one here. Faith, the one I gave a diary to. There’s wounds there that’s gonna take a while to heal. She said to me, that before the raiders came there’d been twelve of them. Twelve, cut down to two. Faith blames herself. I’d tell her not to, that it wasn’t her fault. But I’m a stranger to her, my words would be worthless. Alex doesn’t listen when Don tells her that about her sister.

I don’t listen when Jana says it about those I left behind.

I don’t think there’s anyone alive who doesn’t carry around some guilt anymore. We’ve all done what we had to, to survive. We’ve all made compromises. Doesn’t make it easier to reconcile any of it. Maybe the kids growing up in this new world wont have that. The trauma, the baggage. But they’ll have to deal with their parents being forever marked for it.

Cycles of trauma. Cycles of grief. 

Jesus, why am I getting like this again?

Sometimes, you gotta see what others have lost, to remind you of what you’re lucky to have  

Despite it all, I am lucky. I’ve got better friends than I’ve ever had with Don and Alex. And Jana? She makes these winding roads and empty forests feel like home. Woke up in one of the caravans here, with her naked next to me. The sunlight and shadows a tapestry on her skin. She laughed when she woke up to me wearing her cowboy hat. Stole it back with a kiss. Helped me wrap my face for the day.

I saw Alex trying to talk with Faith a few times today, but she’s almost as quiet as Morri. Both of them are still in shock I guess. Like we were when Conway died. We only had one friend to bury, they had ten. Though Jana’s brother never came home, at least there’s hope he’s out there somewhere. No such luck for these people.

Can we really just leave them here, when we move on? We don’t have spare horses or cerns for them, but they’re alone out here. Barely talking, and who knows if more bandits will come for them? The traders wont reach them for a long while yet, even if we tell people at the next town we come across.

I already spoke to Jana, she agrees we ought to at least offer them a place on the road with us. I just hope Don and Alex agree. I can’t see why they wouldn’t though. Don’s already made it clear we don’t abandon people, and cynical as Alex is, she’s got this fundamental kindness to her. Buried beneath her own scars and guilt.

She didn’t abandon us when we got separated after the attack, hell based on what Jana told me she kept her going even when Jana was starting to lose hope of finding us again.

Still, I think we’ll have make a decision soon. I doubt we’ll be welcome to stay much longer. I know I’d be slow to trust anyone, having gone through what they have.

And I hope to whatever gods might be out there that I never have to.

-Red

[pupa-cinema]

Village Man's Store - Skream! Interview October 2024

Interviewer by Saitou Masahira

"名古屋が生んだ暴れ馬"ことビレッジマンズストアが、約3年ぶりの流通CD作品となる4thミニ・アルバム『勝手』を10月23日にリリースする。新メンバー ウエムラを迎えた新体制での新曲3曲を含む全7曲には、二日酔いも筋肉痛も恐れない、21年目にして向こう見ずなエネルギーが満ちる。 “The wild unruly horses of Nagoya” a.k.a. Village Man’s Store, are releasing their first distributed CD after 3 whole years. “Katte”, their 4th mini album, will be available starting October 23rd. The 7 tracks, including 3 new songs made along with their newest member, Uemura, are chock full to the brim with energy. It’s as if they don’t fear any hangover or muscle aches, a feat both bold, reckless and incredible for a band active for 21 years already.

その源にあるのは、紆余曲折を経た今だからこそ宿る確かな���信だ。Zepp Shinjuku (TOKYO)での20周年記念公演"正しい夜遊びの解"も控える彼等に話を訊いた。 What fuels them is their utmost confidence, confidence built brick by brick on their long journey with all its twists and turns. With their performance at the venue Zepp Shinjuku (TOKYO) on the horizon, dubbed “Tadashii Yoasobi no Kai” to celebrate their 20th anniversary, I took it upon myself to conduct an investigation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

－結成20周年を迎えて、率直にどのような思いを抱いていますか？ Give it to me straight, what are your feelings towards your 20th year anniversary?

水野：あんまり数字に頓着がないというか、"よし20年だ、頑張るぞ！"みたいなことは思ったことがなくて。逆にやめる理由も探したことないし。他のメンバーが抜けるときも"なんでだろう？"って思ってたぐらい、当たり前のようにやってきたから。趣味って終わりがないじゃないですか。その感覚に近い。好きでやってるものに見切りを付けてやめる必要があるのか未だに分かってないから、これからも何年だとか気にせずにやっていくんだろうなという気はしてます。 Mizuno: Numbers alone don’t mean much to me. Like the idea that “Alright, we’ve hit the 20 year mark, time to step up our game!” has never crossed my mind. By the same token I’ve also never sought out any reason to let up. When our ex members left the band, I simply just thought “Why would they do that?”, because doing this band thing is like second nature to me now. Hobbies don’t really have any beginning or end point, it’s all something like that to me. If I’m just doing this for fun then is there really any need for me to abandon my joy in life? Even after all this time I’m still not sure if there’s a correct answer to that question. So I don’t want to stress over how many years it’s been or this or that. We’ll just keep doing what we do.

坂野：うん、別に20年だからどうっていうことはないですね。ただ、今までのメンバーも含めて、みんながいたからこうやって楽しくやってこられたっていうのは感じてます。 Bannou: Yeah. 20 years on our belt or not, it doesn’t mean much to me. What’s important to me is that we had fun, and continue to keep having fun, alongside all our past, previous, and current members.

岩原：良く言えば個性的、悪く言えばす��ぇ不揃いな人間が集まってやってるのに、ここまで続くのは奇跡なんだろうなと。ありがたいことだなと思いますね。僕が加入して12年って言われると、へぇ～って感じですけど。 Iwahara: If I were to choose my words kindly I would say we all have personality, but if I were to put it crudely I’d say we’re a really mixmatched, motley crew. So it’s a miracle we’ve stuck together this long. It’s a blessing. When I hear I’ve been in this band for 12 years I just think “Wow”.

坂野：他人事みたいな（笑）。 Bannou: Like, as if they’re talking about someone else, not you yourself (laughs).

－20年の中で、バンド存続の危機を感じたことは？ During this 20 year period have you ever felt like the band was ever on the verge of collapse?

水野：各々が自分の感情と折り合いを付けられないときっていうのはもちろんあるけども、絶望的な状況になったことは別になく。結局は好きだからやってることだし。俺はやめようと思ったことはないかな。 Mizuno: Of course there’s times when we just can’t come to an agreement and our feelings on matters differ, but it’s never reached the point of hopeless. We’re just doing this because we love to after all. So I personally have never considered quitting.

岩原：やめるって発想がそもそもないんですよね。何か思うことがあっても、ライヴをやったらポンッて忘れちゃうし。 Bannou: The idea of quitting doesn’t quite exist around here. Even if any trouble ever even transpires, it’s soon gone like poof, for we forget it as soon as the show starts.

－これまでずっと、ハングリーな状態を保ち続けてきたバンドだという印象があります。 As a band you’ve managed to preserve a hungry, ravenous image for yourselves all this time as well.

岩原：満腹になったことはないね（笑）。 Bannou: Well that’s ‘cause our tummies have never been full (laugh).

水野：常にハングリーにならざるを得ない状況にいるからね。でも、今まで自分が好きになったバンドもそういうメンタルでやってる人たちが多かったから、嬉しいと言えば嬉しいです。自分のなりたいものになれてるんだなって。 Mizuno: We won’t survive if we aren’t constantly hungry. Many of the bands I’ve been interested in throughout my lifetime tend to share that same kind of mentality too, so if you were to ask if it makes me happy to hear that, I couldn’t deny, it really does.

－その状況をキープできたのは、何かのきっかけで爆発的にスケールアップすることなく、一歩一歩前進してきたからこそなんじゃないかなと思います。 I also get the sense that the reason you’ve been able to hold on to your hungry attitude is not because you ever had some explosive boost in scale or anything, but rather because you’ve always been taking it step by step.

水野：それはそうですね。"このフェーズに入ったからこうなろう"じゃなくて、あくまで昨日までやってたことが今日に繋がり続けてるバンドだと思う。 Mizuno: That I agree with. We never entered new phases and changed it up or anything. Every day we just purely and simply keep doing the same things we did yesterday, day after day until today.

岩原：曲作りでも、水野が俺に対して"そんなことできないけど"っていうようなことを求めてきて、でも叶えてあげたくて頑張る、っていうことがずっと続いてて。それが俺のハングリーさになってるのかな。 Iwahara: In terms of song composition as well, Mizuno is constantly asking of me to do things outside of my comfort zone. At first I’m like “I can’t do it.” Yet nevertheless I’ll find myself giving it my best shot, because I want to make his ideas into a reality. I think that also another aspect of our hunger.

坂野：ライヴに関しても、これをやろうっていう提案は水野が一番してくれるから。 Bannou: Regarding our concerts as well, Mizuno is the one who comes up with new ideas the most.

水野：でも、飛び道具をやるというよりも、その前のライヴで良かったこととかダメだったことから地続きのものを提案してる。 Mizuno: I don’t dish out ideas such as fireworks or anything crazy though. I just make suggestions based on what went well or what went poorly in our previous shows.

－そうやって、表現したいものが徐々に変わってきたと。 Slowly but surely your art begins to alter its form.

岩原：個人的なことを言うと、"人にこう見られたい"と"自分はこうなりたい"という気持ちをずっと反復横跳びしていて、バンドとしてどういう表現をしたいのかって実はあんまり見えてないんですよね。でも、それを許してくれてるこの人たちは心が広いなと思います。 Iwahara: If I’m allowed to speak on my own experiences… I find myself jumping back and forth between “I want to be perceived as this” and “I want to actually physically be that”. This means I tend to not pay attention to what we’re expressing wholly as a band. The fact that these guys accept me is so benevolent of them.

－バンドの変化として、衣装を赤いスーツから変えたことはアイコニックな出来事だったと思います。 As the a display of the band’s evolution you also changed your stage uniforms away your trademark red suits. That was an iconic move.

水野：バンドを始めて10年目くらいまでは、"他の人にはできないこんなことができるんだぞ"、"こんなこと思い付いたんだぞ"っていうことをアピールしたかったんです。"こんなバカみたいな服着れないでしょ"みたいな。そうして突飛なことをし��いと自分っていうものを表せないと思っていたんですね。でも、最近はそれより、もっと根底にある自分の分かりやすい部分を見てもらおうって考え方に変わってるのかな。だから衣装もそうだけど、あくまで自分がカッコいいと思ってるものを表現したいっていう意志が強いのかもしれない�� Mizuno: From when we first got together until around the 10 year mark, I had always been keen to show off. Like “We can do what other people can’t do,” or “Check out what we’ve come up with,” or “You could never handle wearing stupid-looking clothes like us.” I was under the impression that unless I did something extravagant then people would never understand what makes me who I am. Yet recently I’ve changed to instead lean towards just letting people see the easy to understand, deeper and core parts of my self. The clothes tie into this well. My will to just portray the things I find cool has grown.

岩原：かつては小さい丸からトゲをはみ出させていたけど、今は丸自体をもっと大きくしようということを考えている気がします。 Iwahara: I used to just be like a small little orb with spikes coming out, but now I’m more steering to make the orb itself bigger.

－それは、20年続けてきたことで身に付いた自信の表れなのかもしれない。 That may just be testament to your confidence, built up over 20 whole years.

水野：かもしれないですね。最初は虚栄心が強かったけれど、着実に自分を認められるようになってきてるから、自分の根底を見せられるようになったのかな。 Mizuno: Possibly. At first I was mostly just vain, but now that I know that I’m loved and accepted, I’m now more comfortable showing my core self.

岩原：羨ましいなぁ。俺はまだそこまで行ってない（笑）。 Iwahara: I’m envious. I’ve yet to reach that point (laughs).

－2023年3月にはウエムラさんが正式メンバーとして加入しました。改めてその経緯をお聞かせいただけますか？ In March of 2023 you welcomed Uemura to the band. Could you recount the series of events for me?

水野：まずは公募して、おや？ と思った人にサポートをしてもらおうと。やっぱり、一緒にライヴをやってみて気持ち良くないと嫌だったから。で、最終的にウエムラとやることに決めて。 Mizuno: It started with us publicly recruiting bassists, and then having anyone who made us go “Oh?” join us for a show or two. Because if you do a show with someone and it doesn’t feel right, then it’s a no-go, y’know. In the end with settled with Uemura.

－ウエムラさんのどこに惹かれたのでしょう？ What drew you to Uemura?

水野：それこそ、ハングリーさが強いのがこいつだった。ウエムラは個人で活動してたけど、バンドはやっていなくて、でも人一倍バンドをやりたいって気持ちが強いやつだと思ったから。あと、音楽をわりとなんでも聴くんだけど、結構ロックが好きだと思うんだよね（笑）。話しててもそれがめちゃくちゃ伝わるっていうか。音楽で最強なのってバンド・スタイルでしょ！ ってどっかで思ってる。そこがいいなと思いました。 Mizuno: He was the one with the strongest of that hunger and desire. Uemura did a lot of hired work or personal projects but, he was never in a band proper, and I got the sense that he yearned for the band life twice as much as the average person. Also, he listens to a large variety of music, but I think rock music is his one true love (laughs). When I talked to him that’s at least the impression I got. The strongest most powerful thing in the whole realm of music is the stuff you get when a band puts their heads together! -Or, so I think, deep down. And that’s what I liked about him.

－ウエムラさん自身は、加入が決まってどのような思いを抱きましたか？ How did you yourself feel after joining the band, Uemura?

ウエムラ：住む家が決まったような気持ちでした。太い大黒柱があって……。 Uemura: It felt like I found a place to call home. There’s a fat breadwinner and everything….

水野：いい家だよ、ここは。 Mizuno: We do indeed have a nice home here.

岩原：築20年だからね。 Iwahara: It’s been standing for 20 years after all.

ウエムラ：10代の頃にもバンドをやってたんですけど、そのバンドが解散したときに、バンドって夢がねぇなぁと思ったんですよ。そうやっていろんな夢を諦めて1人で活動してるときに、公募の話があって。 Uemura: I was in a band back when I was a teenager, but after we disbanded I was left with a bitter taste in my mouth, I thought bands were hopeless. Thus I gave up on a bunch of my dreams and started operating solo, until I saw Village Man Store’s public recruitment announcement.

岩原：僕はウエムラと10年くらいの付き合いなんですけど、加入が決まる前から"俺、バンドしてぇっす"って話してたのが印象に残ってて。 Iwahara: Uemura and I have known each other for about 10 years, and even before we decided to take him in there was this one time he had told me “I wanna be in a baaaand”. That stuck with me.

水野：でも岩原からしたら、個人活動で実績のあるウエムラを誘っていいのか分からなくて、実際に一緒にやることになるまで何ラリーかあったよね。 Mizuno: Though from Iwahara’s point of view, he was unsure if it was okay for him to invite someone like Uemura, someone renowned for all the solo work on their belt, or not. So we ended up going back and forth, beating around the bush a bit.

坂野："早く付き合っちゃえよ"状態（笑）。 Bannou: “Go out with each other already” kinda situation (laughs).

－そうして再び5人体制となりましたが、同年8月には荒金祐太朗（Gt）さんが活動を休止することになります。4人での活動継続にあたって、どのようにバンドを再構築していったのでしょうか？ And so did were you 5 once more. Alas, in August of that same year did Arakane Yuutaro (guitar) go on sabbatical. So how did you tackle the tall task that was rebuilding the band with only the 4 of you?

水野：いや、5人のままですね。今はもう、欠けてるなっていう状況であるべきなんですよ。荒金祐太朗というギタリストがどういうやつかはめちゃくちゃ分かってるから、あくまであいつがいる状態で完璧になるものをやっておかなくちゃいけないなと思って。戻ってきて違和感が生まれるのは気持ち悪いし。あいつがいるていで、こういうのが好きだろって思いながら曲を作ってる。 Mizuno: No, we’re still 5, even now. It’s essential that we keep our missing piece as missing right now. I know the guitarist named Arakane Yuutaro super duper well, so I’m purposefully making everything incomplete right now. This way it will become complete whenever he returns. It’d feel gross if when he came back it felt like he didn’t belong. So I write our songs as if he were still around, and consider what he likes when composing.

－率直に、今のバンドの状態っていうのはどうなんですか？ What’s your honest assessment of the band as it stands right now?

水野：めちゃくちゃ強くなったと思う。だって、今まで5人でやってたことを、4人でやらざるを得なかったんですよ。最初はめちゃくちゃ不安だったし、何かが足りないってずっと思ってた。だけど最近は、"これ「5」くらいあるぞ"って。 Mizuno: We’ve grown so so so much stronger. Because we’re doing the same things we used to do with 5 people but with 4 people now. We were anxious as hell at first, and constantly plagued by worries, concerned that we weren’t good enough. However, recently we feel that we have a whole quintent’s worth of manpower. 祐太朗が戻ってきたら"6"になっちゃうんじゃないのって感じる。久しぶりに観る人がいたとしても、1人足りないとは思わないんじゃないかな。メンバーそれぞれが輝いてて、信頼できて。一人一人の負担はエグいですけど。 When Arakane comes back I feel as if we’re going to have 6 people worth of manpower. Even if old fans come to our shows, I don’t think they’ll get the sense that we’re lacking one person anymore. Each and every one of my bandmates sparkle and shine in their own way, and I’ve come to really trust them. Though each of our responsibilities are also something fierce.

坂野：お客さんも、荒金が戻ってきたらこのバンドはどうなるんだろうって感じてると思ってて。僕自身も、もっとヤバいことになる予感がしてます。 Bannou: Our audience also seem to be on the edge of their seat, curious as to what will become of the band once Arakane comes back. And me too, I have a hunch that it’s going to get even crazier around here.

－10月23日にリリースされる4thミニ・アルバム『勝手』は"一年前発売を取りやめた超自信作ミニアルバム"とのことですが、改めてリリースの経緯を教えてください。 Your 4th mini album, katte, releases on October 23rd. You’ve called it “One of your utmost best works ever, stewed throughout a year of no releases,” but what exactly led to this work of beauty?

水野：祐太朗が不調になったのがちょうどレコーディング期間中だったので、一度制作が滞っちゃったんです。途中まで作ってたんですけど、祐太朗の意思が伝わり切らないまま続けるのは嫌で、すでに録り終えてリード曲にする予定だった「みちづれ」だけを出してやめちゃったんですよね。ただ、他所に迷惑を掛けるのは嫌だったから、"（ビレッジマンズストア ツアー2023）勝手にしやがる"というツアーだけは開催して。でも、正直そのツアーはキツかった。試行錯誤してたし、岩原は骨を折るし。 Mizuno: Arakane fell ill right as we were in the middle of the recording phase, so the production came to a halt. We had songs left half baked, but to release them with Arakane’s will left unrealized rubbed me the wrong way, so we decided to only release what was originally planned to be the lead song, “Michizure,” and ditch the rest.At the same time, I also didn’t want to cause problems for the other people involved, so we still went on our “Village Man’s Store Tour 2023: Katte ni Shiyagaru” tour. Though in all honesty, that tour was rough. It was a constant battle of trial and error, not to mention that Iwahara broke his bones once too.

－そこから、もう一度作品を作り直そうということでできあがったのが今回の『勝手』なんですね。 So “Katte” is the result of you picking up the pieces you left off on.

水野：そうですね。だから、内容も当初やりたかったものから変わっているし。 Mizuno: That’s right. Though the content is way different from what we once had in mind originally.

－シングル曲に加えて、3曲の新曲が収録されています。これは4人で制作した楽曲なんでしょうか？ The albums includes each of your recent singles, on top of 3 brand new songs. Did all four of you write those 3 songs together?

水野：今の状況で出したいものってなんだろう、これを出したら喜んでくれるんじゃないか、ということを改めて考えて作りました。 Mizuno: We reconsidered what we wanted to bring into the world in our current state, and considered what would make people happy to see us release into the world both.

－リスナーの目線に立って？ You put yourself in your listeners’ shoes?

水野：そうですね。その時その時で、バンドにどんな活動をしてほしいかって違うと思うんですよ。俺は結構それを考えるタイプだから、自分がやりたいことをやったらいいでしょっていう考えはしたことない。 Mizuno: Exactly. Depending on the time and place, people tend to want to see different things from any one band at any given moment. I’m the type of guy who constantly stresses over that stuff, so over the years I’ve never really ever considered what I myself want to do, until now.

－"勝手"というタイトルとは相反する姿勢ですね。 That exact change in attitude ties perfectly into the title “Katte”.

水野：たしかに。お客さんは、困難が起きたときにそれに引っ張られて弱くなる姿を見たいわけじゃないだろうから、"俺たちには勝手にやっててほしいんでしょ？"っていう、ラリーを経た上での"勝手"（笑）。 Mizuno: It does. Nobody wants to see a band dragging their legs whenever the going gets rough, after all. “So do you guys just want us to do whatever we wanna do?”, I thought, and pondering over this and that, going back and forth, I finally came to the conclusion of “Katte” (laughs).

岩原：いろんな反応を想像してたけど、一番嫌なのはお客さんが"苦しそうだね"って言って、俺らが"うん、苦しいの"って返すような状態で。それよりは、今はこれしかないからこれをやるっていうまっすぐな姿勢が一番しっくり来ました。 Iwahara: I imagined a variety of different scenarios, but in the end the one that seemed the worst to me was if the audience could tell that we’re struggling, and the only thing we could do is respond “Yeah, we’re struggling.” On the other hand, the scenario that made the most sense was the straightforward approach; us just outright doing the things we can do.

水野：そうだよね。ロック・バンドってスカッとするもんだしな。 Mizuno: Yeah. Rock bands are all about feelin’ satisfied after all.

－向こう見ずに暴れ散らかしてやろうという姿勢は、収録曲の音にも言葉にも表れています。でも、それもやっぱり20年やってきたからこそ辿り着いた無鉄砲さなのかなって。 Not worrying about what comes next and simply going wild and unruly… That attitude is evident in both your new music and your words. Though, I can’t help but wonder if you’re only allowed such recklessness because you’ve been making headway for the past 20 years.

水野：あー、そうだと思う。結局、何かを恐れて無茶できなかったときのほうが上手くいかなかったなっていう経験があるし。無茶でもしょうもないことでも、何かをやってるやつのほうが面白いっていう思いがあるから、そこには月日の影響がある。 Mizuno: Ahh, you have a point. I feel like we have had more experiences wherein things didn’t go well because we were afraid and didn’t act reckless, rather than the contrary. Reckless or not, just putting ourselves out there is more interesting for everyone, I feel. This is what I’ve learned over the years.

－無茶をしても伝わるだろうというリスナーに対する信頼が積み上がってきたからこそ、今もなお初期衝動感が溢れている。 You’ve built trust with your listeners, you trust them to understand you even when you act reckless. That energy makes you appear as giddy and eager as a band just starting out.

水野：そうですね。でも、俺らからしたら今は初期衝動もいいところだよな。どんだけ素手で戦い慣れたやつでもさ、ピストルを手に入れたらやっぱりテンションが変わるじゃん。（ウエムラは）ピストルだからさ。 Mizuno: Agreed. From our perspective it’s even more intense than just naive excitement though. It’s like… no matter how much someone may be accustomed to fighting with their bare fists, if they get their hands on a pistol then it’s a game changer, y’know. And Uemura is our pistol.

ウエムラ：……俺のことか（笑）！ Uemura: Me?! (Laughs).

水野：だから今はやりたいこともたくさんあるし、本当にバンドが楽しい……って言うとちょっと寒いけど（笑）、今はあえてバンドが楽しいってちゃんと言ったほうが楽しいんだよね。 Mizuno: So we’re bursting with energy to do new things, and being in a band is a blast right now….. Or, maybe it sounds a bit cold to say it outloud like that (laughs). But saying it’s fun when it’s fun makes it even more fun.

ウエムラ：初期衝動の話で言うと、感じたことがあって。長いこと続いてるバンドだから、外から見たときはもう慣れてるんだろうなと思ってたんですけど、いざ中に入ってみると、確かに慣れてはいるものの慣れ方が独特というか。 Uemura: When you mentioned that we seem to be as giddy as if we’re just hot off the oven, it made me think of something. From afar Village Man’s Store look like they have it all together: as if they’re so comfortable. Yet as soon as I joined them, I realized that their means of getting used to things is extremely unique.

水野：痛め付けられ慣れてる（笑）。 Mizuno: Pain is our teacher (laughs).

－慣れた結果無理をしなくなるんじゃなくて、無理すること自体に慣れてるみたいな。 So you’re saying you as a band tend to not grow comfortable enough with things that you eliminate the need to push yourselves, they just grow comfortable with pushing yourselves instead.

ウエムラ：そうそう。お前ら丈夫すぎんかって。 Uemura: Exactly, exactly. I was like “you guys are way too in shape?!”

水野：慣れてライヴが日常になるのが嫌なんすよ。あくまで非日常。生活する場所じゃなくて向かう場所。特別な場所であるべきだっていう気持ちがあるから、それは意識しないとなと思ってる。 Mizuno: I can’t stand the idea of concerts becoming just any old thing for us. We want to keep it as an irregularity. It’s not somewhere we live at, but somewhere we visit. I feel it needs to be something special to us, and that we must always stay aware of this fact.

－作品に話を戻しましょう。いつにも増してストレートなロック感が印象的ですが、このような作品のカラーは意図したものなのでしょうか？ Let’s reel the topic back into the album. Your usual unabashed rock style is even more prominent than usual this time around. Was this choice of color intentional?

水野：いや、出ちゃうんですよね。好みのものを作っていったら自ずとこうなった。もっと初期衝動感を出していこうとか話し合ったことないし（笑）。 Mizuno: It just kinda happened. I made what I like, and in due course it turned out this way. We never discussed anything along the lines of emitting young newcomer energy either (laughs).

－一方でアクセントとなる楽曲もあり、全体のバランスが取れた作品になっています。例えば「埃の降る街」には、今までありそうでなかった歌謡的��哀愁が漂っていて。 While on the other hand, you have songs which serve as accents to the album, and overall bring balance to it. “Hokori no Furu Machi” for example has a Showa-style pop and melancholic mood to it.

岩原：あれ、いい曲よね。 Iwahara: It’s such a good song, isn’t it.

水野：もともと俺は'70sの歌謡やフォークにルーツがあるから、新しいものを出したというよりはそこに戻った感じ。この曲こそ、初期衝動の延長にあるものかもしれない。 Mizuno: ‘70s pop and folk are my roots, my blood. So it’s more like I’ve returned to my roots, rather than done something new. This song may also ties into that newcomer energy.

－そこからショート・チューン「ボーイズハッピーエンド」に続く流れがアルバムを盛り上げます。こちらはジャック（Ba）さんの脱退を受けて制作されたシングル『BROTHER』（2022年リリース）の収録曲ですが。 The next track following it is the short doozy “Boy’s Happy End”, bringing the levels excitement back up. This song was a part of your single “BROTHER (2022)”, a title made to commemorate your previous bassist Jack’s retirement.

水野：本当は「きみがいれば」だけで出す予定だったんだけど、無理を言ってもう1曲作ったんですよ。湿っぽく終わるのが嫌すぎて、"もっとバカな曲やっていい？"って。 Mizuno: Initially the plan was to only release the other track, “Kimi ga Ireba” alone, but I pushed us to go above and beyond and write one more song. I hate the idea of ending it on a low note, so I was like “Can we do a dumb and silly song too?”

－そして、今作には「きみがいれば」が収録されず、「ボーイズハッピーエンド」だけが収録される形になりました。 Then you opted to omit “Kimi ga Ireba” from your new album, and only include “Boys Happy End.”

水野：ハナから入れるつもりはなかったかもしれない。特別であるべき曲だと思って。好きな曲ではあるけど、ここで他の曲と合わせて聴いてほしいものではなかった。もっと大きなくくりで、こういうことがあったんですよっていうアルバムを作るときには入れてもいいかもしれないけど、今回のミニ・アルバムは今の自分たちの姿勢を見せるためのものだから。 Mizuno: I somehow never ever had the intention of including it. I think it belongs as a special song. I love the song but, in this instance it was not something I wanted to be listened to in tangent with our other music. If we ever wanted to make an epic, conclusive album excerpting our history and achievements, then we may include it, but this mini album exists for us to boast our stance.

－たしかに、今作が描いているのは何かの物語ではなくてバンドの態度ですよね。 That’s true. You’re not telling a story this time around, you’re telling the people what exactly your attitude is.

水野：そうですね。「みちづれ」、「臨死ファンクラブ」、「ボーイズハッピーエンド」、全部同じことしか歌ってない。でも、それ��たまらなく俺たちっぽくていいなと思う。恋愛ソング好きなやつは全編恋愛ソングを歌えばいいと思うし、俺はむしろそういうのが聴きたいから。 Mizuno: Yep. “Michizure”, “Rinshi Funclub”, and “Boy’s Happy End” are all singing about the exact same themes. Yet that kinda thing is irresistible to me, it’s so “us”. If someone likes love songs then they should just stick to love songs and sing a whole saga of them. That’s what I’d prefer and would wanna listen to actually.

岩原：同じことを言ってるにしても、どの曲もすごく純度が高いなと思って。レコーディングが終わったときに"めっちゃ水野だね"みたいな。 Iwahara: Though they’re just reiterating the same things, each song is so unadulterated. Once the recording was all said and done, the tracks made me go “This is so Mizuno.”

水野：自分たちの目指してるものの解像度が上がってるのかもね。 Mizuno: In a way that means that the clarity of our intended messages has grown clearer.

岩原：うん。本当に高純度だから、気を付けて聴いていただきたい。 Iwahara: Yeah. It’s truly pure as the driven snow, so beware when you give it a listen.

－11月17日には"ビレッジマンズストア村立20周年記念公演「正しい夜遊びの解」"が開催されます。まず、本拠地 名古屋ではなくZepp Shinjuku (TOKYO)という会場を選んだ理由は？ On the 17th of November will you be holding the show “Celebrating Village Man’s Store’s 20th Year of the Village’s Establishment: Tadashii Yoasobi no Kai”. Could you start by explaining why you chose Zepp Shinjuku in Tokyo as the venue, rather than in your home base of Nagoya?

水野：名古屋でやれよっていう声はたしかにめちゃくちゃあったんですけど、『勝手』をリリースする前のツアーで、これから新しいことにチャレンジすることを誓いますと宣言をしたんで、その一環でもあります。今までできなかったことをやって、前に進む姿勢を見せる。それにピッタリの舞台がZepp Shinjukuだなっていう。単なる思い出公演もいいけど、今は違う。楽しいだけで終わらない、これからに活きるものにしたいと思って。 Mizuno: Naturally a lot of people were telling us to hold it in Nagoya, but during our pre-Katte tour I had up and declared that we vow to try new things going forwards, so that’s one of the reasons. We’ll take a leap of faith, and show everyone that we’re venturing beyond… And the best stage for that is none other than Zepp Shinjuku if you ask me. A performance that leaves a mark on its audience is great and all, but that’s not what we’re going for anymore. We don’t want it to just only be fun and games, we want it to pave our future.

－歌舞伎町を背景に、赤いスーツに身を包んだヴィジュアルも話題を呼びましたよね。 The poster with Kabukichou behind you as you’re donned in your red suits caused quite the stir.

水野：もともと衣装が変わるときに、特別な日にはちゃんと正装をするぞって言ってあったので、その辺を分かってないわけじゃないよっていう。ちゃんと新調したんですよ！ Mizuno: When we first changed our outfits, I had told everyone that we would go back and dress formally again one day for something special, and let them know that I’m true to my word. We even had the suits made brand new too!

－"正しい夜遊びの解"という公演のタイトルは、過去の様々な作品を連想させますね。 The title “Tadashii Yoasobi no Kai” references quite a few of your previous works.

水野：『正しい夜遊び』（2017年）っていうライヴDVDを出したことがあるんですけど、それはそのときに"俺たちがやりたいのってこういうことでしょ"って示したもので。その答え合わせは、すぐにできるようなものじゃないと思ってたんですよ。そして今、あのときの答えを提示できるくらいの経験が積み重なったので、このタイトルがいいなと。 Mizuno: We released a concert DVD called “Tadashii Yoasobi (2017)”, and that DVD was a culmination of everything we had wanted to do back then. Back then we also knew the payoff and answers to our questions wouldn’t appear straight away either. However, now, finally, with more experiences on our belt do I think we’re finally ready to reveal those answers. So that’s why we settled on this title. (The title could translate to “The Unraveling of/Answer to the Tadashii Yoasobi”).

坂野：とはいえ、過去に執着しているわけではないし、これからも続くよっていう。 Iwahara: With that said, we’re not clinging to the past, we’re moving forwards.

－最後に、公演当日に向けて一人一人意気込みを聞かせてください。 To draw this to a close, could each of you please tell me how you feel about the upcoming show?

坂野：僕自身、この日だから起きる何かがあるんだろうなっていうワクワクがありますね。これまでの歩みと、ワンマンが終わってからの歩みを楽しみに観てくれたら嬉しいなと思ってます。 Bannou: I personally believe that something special is bound to happen on such a special day, and that makes me so excited. It would make me so happy to see people out there see how we got to where we are today, and to witness wherever we go after the show as well.

ウエムラ：俺、初めて赤いスーツ着るんですよ。俺の薄っぺらい胸板をよく見ていてほしい。 Uemura: I’m going to be wearing the iconic red suit for my first time ever. Be sure to take a good look at my flat chest.

岩原：これまでは大きいキャパシティのライヴっていちいちプレッシャーを感じたりしてたんですけど、今回は全くそうではないので、もう任せておいてと。ドーンとやるので、信頼して観てくれればと思います。 Iwahara: Up until now I’ve always felt a lot of pressure when performing at large venues, but this time around I feel no such thing. I’m all over it. I’m going to put on quite a show, so trust me and watch.

水野：誤解されてるところがあると思うんですけど、俺はすごく空気が読める男なんですよ。みんながめちゃくちゃやってほしいって言うならめちゃくちゃにやるし、後ろを振り返ってほしければ後ろを振り返るし。バンドに対して抱える期待とか望みを��ろにしたことはないし、その上でそれを超えられたらロック・バンド冥利に尽きると思う。だから、"やってほしいことは全部言ってくれよ、それを確実にちゃんと��回るからね"と言いたいかな。期待していてください。 Mizuno: I worry that people get the wrong idea about me quite often but I’m actually a man well capable of reading vibes. If the people really really want me to do something then I’ll really really do it; if they want me to take a walk down memory lane then I’ll walk. I’ve never frowned upon peoples’ wishes and expectations for bands, and if a rock band ever actually manages to exceed those expectations is fortunate as hell. So all I want to say on this matter is that if you have anything you may desire from us then be sure to say it, we’ll go the extra mile for sure. Please don’t temper any of your expectations.

[shadow-sojourn]

The Hallway

I am in a hallway. I was in a hallway. I will be in a hallway. Soon, I will have been in a hallway. Before, I had been in a hallway. If I had made different choices, I still would have been in a hallway.

The carpet is blue and purple triangles, with the occasional black circle thrown in, and the walls are plain drywall spiced up with colorful surrealism and abstract paintings. Between most paintings are doors. Rustic doors. Modern glass doors. Doors with a knob, doors with a handle, doors with no keyhole, doors with five. Doors with hinges, doors that slide, shattered doors, unbroken doors. None of them lead to anything good. The only way to stay—somewhat—safe is to remain in the hallway.

I trudge onward, desperate to leave yet resigned to the fact that there is no escape. On the ceiling, round bulbs set into recesses flicker and threaten to blink on for the last time. I am not afraid of the darkness; nothing ever changes here. The lights flicker but they do not turn off. My only company is my shadow.

Maybe I’ll go through a door, just for a change. But I know I won’t; nothing good lurks behind those doors. Sometimes an absence of everything; sometimes an abundance of everything; and sometimes, just sometimes, I find more shadows. I don’t like finding shadows where there’s no light to cast them.

Gazing around, I stop to inspect a painting covered with red and orange slashes and swirls. It looks like a beast made of fire clawed marks in the canvas. I turn away, as it’s pretty, but just another painting. 

How long have I been here? I don’t know; it’s been at least a full day but less than a month. It’s hard to tell with no windows or timepieces, and I never seem to become hungry or thirsty.

Why am I even still walking? There isn’t any point, after all. I halt, slowly sitting to rest on the slightly scratchy carpet and cool drywall. I close my eyes, wishing for sleep.

It’s been so long since I’ve slept, eaten, or drunk anything. “Although, at this point, I’d be content with seeing someone else,” I say aloud, my voice raspy from disuse.

“You want to see us?” someone whispers. I leap up, breathing hard and turning in circles, trying to spot who—or what—said that. I set eyes on nothing but the ever-static corridor. Did I imagine those words? Maybe I’m going insane.

No, I promise myself that I will get out of here. I start to walk again, but I can’t remember which way I was heading; the hallway stretches out equally far in both directions and I don’t remember the paintings well enough to use them as landmarks. A panic I haven’t felt since I first became trapped here floods through me. I don’t know which way to turn. 

“No, not that way!” something giggles.  Okay, forget about which way is forward and which is backward, because I’m running away from that voice.

Rubber soles gaining traction on blue and purple tessellated carpet, my feet pull me down the hallway. Art pieces and drywall blend into a colored blur. Until they don’t. The lights are off. Effectively blind, I stop, heaving air in and out to catch my breath.

“Stay here! We’ll take care of you!” I hear from my left.

“No, run away! We’ll chase you!” I hear from my right.

“No, no. We’ll eat you! We’re always hungry when we don’t get any visitors!” I hear from behind me.

“No, that’s all wrong! We’ll save you for later!” I hear from beneath my feet. I don’t want to be eaten, but I don’t think I have much say in the matter unless I run away.

Despite the lack of light, I sprint forward, smacking into the walls a couple times before I find a rhythm. Laughing sounds from all around me. I just can’t escape. Terror washes over me, not that I wasn’t panicking before now. I wish this place was as abandoned as it appeared.

Because I can’t see anything, I trip, headfirst, into a hole the things that want to eat me must have made to trap me. I fall and fall and fall for I don’t know how long. Until I’m not falling anymore. 

I sit on my couch, at home. Was all of that just a dream? I certainly hope so, but the painting covered with red and orange slash marks on my wall says otherwise.

[spencerswhoreclub]

I HATE YOU

By- Spencerswhoreclub

I LOVE THIS TROPE, it's enemies to lovers so enjoy

This chapter contains- arguing, degrading, praise kink, mommy kink, choking, sub Spencer, dominant reader, over stimulating, orgasm deprivation, (male) anal fingering, (male receiving) oral sex, (female) penetration, and a sub drop.

Wc- 2280

—————-

Your POV

—————-

Spencer and I have had it out for each other since day one. When I first met him and he refused to shake my hand. I wasn't too worried because I knew he was a germaphobe and was going to refuse, but it didn't hurt to try.

To my surprise every single time I talked to him he would brush me off. He would come up with an excuse like him being swamped with work or he would get up to get coffee.

But when every time I would even look in his direction or even open my mouth to say something to someone I could hear him scuff like I just insulted his mother. That is when I decided I'd give him the same energy he gave me.

So then every time he talked I would roll my eyes or let out a small laugh. He obviously caught onto it because he decided to escalate his antics.

Soon after he started closing doors just before I could walk through them or even interrupting me in the middle of my sentence. So I decided I'd make sure to time when I got to work just right so I could shut the elevator doors before he arrived. If he came earlier I came earlier, it was a vicious cycle.

It escalated to the point where everyone on the team noticed, they would even pull us to the side and constantly ask what's wrong and of course we both just said it was nothing and chalked it up to us being tired of having a bad day.

Eventually after three months of us hating each other hotch had enough of us. When we were in the middle of bickering about what the unsubs motive was he intervened.

"Y/n, Reid, the team and I are all tired of you going back and forward. I don't know what happened to cause this feud but until it's resolved you guys will be sharing a hotel room, I don't care how long it takes so you better play nice"

Both Spencer and I tried to defend ourselves but it was no use hotch had made up his mind.

After a long day of arguing with Spencer I had to go back to my shared hotel room with him. When we finally got to the hallway I did what anyone In my position would do.

I took off sprinting down the hallway, he obviously caught onto what I was trying to do because he ran after me. Just before he caught up I unlocked the door and shut it behind me.

"Y/n you know I have a key too right"

He sounds out of breath from running, why is it low key hot- no, y/n you hate him

My thoughts were interrupted by the door opening. Before I could realize what was happening my back was against the door and his body was pressed against mine.

"What the fuck was that"

Are you fucking serious, did he really ask what that was after he went from icing me out to being just plain rude to me.

————————

Spencer's POV

————————

I asked her what was up but honestly I knew I had been a jerk to her from the moment she stepped into the building.

In the beginning she really just did catch me at a bad time. I had planned on properly introducing myself the next day but after I had time to think about it I figured I wouldn't be able to shake my first impression so I decided I'd just stick with being an ass.

But to be honest I did really like her, she had always been in the back of my mind. I constantly imagine her tying me up or edging me until I had tears in my eyes. But I also want more than that, I want to be the reason she smiles, I want her to be the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing I see at night

I was thrown out of my daydream when I felt her push me off of her

—————

Your POV

—————

I pushed him off of me and started yelling at him pushing him further and further while doing so

"WHAT WAS THAT? You mean what you're been doing to me since you met me, for a genius you're really fucking stupid. I've don't nothing but match the energy you gave me"

I finally pushed him down onto the bed and I heard him whimper making me smile.

"God I fucking hate you"

I smashed our lips together and we ripped each other's clothes off eager to see each other naked after being deprived of each other for months.

Once we were both in our underwear I attached my lips to his neck and grabbed the growing bulge in his boxers, then he let out a loud moan.

"Damn baby boy I've barely touched you"

"Ik m-mommy it just feels s-so good"

Before I could even register what he said his eyes went wide and he tried to sit up

"I- I'm so sorry I don't know what I was-"

I cut him off with a kiss, I tried to put as much love as I possibly could into it just so he knew it was alright

"Baby it's fine, I wouldn't want you to call me anything else"

I made my way down to the bed so that I was eye level with his dick and slowly pulled down his boxers. Of course his dick is like the rest of him, absolutely beautiful.

I take my time kissing everywhere around where he truly wanted me, I could lie and say it was to tease him but I really wanted this to last as long as possible.

Finally I gave in and wrapped my lips around the tip. I brought my head up and down, taking more and more each time earning more small whimpers from him.

"Mommy I'm about to cum"

"Oh no you're not, not yet at least. You've been such a bad boy and bad boys get punished. Turn around and get on your hands and knees."

He does so immediately not wanting to make it any worse for himself. I leaned over him while pushing his shoulders down so that his back was arched.

"Is this okay?"

I whisper in his ear while pushing two fingers against his entrance

"Y-yes pl-please mommy I need it"

I applied more pressure, slowly pressing my fingers into his hole earning a loud moan. At first I went slow then I started going faster and deeper until I hit his prostate.

"Fuck- mommy can I please cum"

"Of course you can baby"

Even after he released I kept going, I figured I'd fuck with him more. Since he was already sensitive it didn't take him long to get close.

"Mommy I'm close, please can I cum"

"Yes baby boy"

Even after he finished again i still didn't stop

"Please mommy stop, it's too much"

He saw with tears streaming down his face

"No, you're going to cum for each month you insisted on being a dick to me"

"B-but I c-cant"

"Yes you can, you want to be my good boy don't you?"

"Yes m-ma'am"

"So cum for me"

His legs started shaking and he finally released onto the bed for the third time of the night.

"Turn over onto your back, I'm going to ride you and you're not going to cum until I do, got it?"

"Yes ma'am"

"Good boy"

As soon as he got onto his back I wasted no time taking off my bra and underwear, he was so busy staring at my tits he didn't even notice me climbing on top of him

"Hey my eyes are up here"

I said while snapping in his face

"Sorry mommy you're just so pretty"

"Yeah yeah shut up so I can fuck you"

I took his dick in my hand and teased him by rubbing his tip up and down my opening

"P-please mommy"

"Fine, but only because you're cute when you beg"

As soon as the words came out of my mouth I sunk down on his length earning a loud moan from Spencer. I started bouncing up and down but I couldn't help but notice his hands balled into fists gripping the sheet so hard I'm surprised it didn't rip.

Then I realize I never gave him permission to touch me, he's trying so hard to be a good boy for me.

"Baby boy it's okay, you can touch me"

His hands were immediately on my waist gripping hard enough to leave marks.

"How do you think the team would react if they say you like this huh? What do you think they'd say if they saw how much of a little slut you are"

He opened his mouth but all he could get out was high pitched moans. So I wrapped my hand around his throat

"I asked you a question, what do you think they'd say"

"I-I d-don't know"

"They would say you're pathetic for letting a girl take over and use you"

I leaned forward to get a better angle and he saw this as a perfect opportunity to suck on my tits.

"Shit- baby boy if you keep this up I won't last"

"Please cum for me mommy, I want it so much"

I reached down and rubbed my clit in circles then I felt a familiar feeling in my stomach

"Fuck Spence I'm cuming, please fill me up"

We both came at the same time and I collapsed next to him. I went to get up to go pee but he pulled me back down.

"Spence I-"

"Please, please don't leave, I-I'm sorry I was so bad to you I didn't mean it. I really like you a-and I just didn't know how to-"

That's when I realized he had been crying

"Shhh Spence it's fine-"

"No it's not fine-"

"Don't ever interrupt me again"

"Yes ma'am"

"Good, now I understand Spencer and I promise I won't leave you. Come here"

I scooted back on the bed so I was leaning against the headboard. I sat there with open arms waiting for him to come to me.

He crawled up to me and curled up on my chest. He looked at my boobs and back at me silently asking permission and I nodded my head. He took my nipple in his mouth and started sucking.

This poor boy has some serious mommy issues and abandonment issues.

"Spencer I understand why you did what you did and I'm not going to hold it against you"

Then I felt something wet roll down my chest

"Baby why are you still crying"

"B-because I want t-this to be more than a o-one time thing. Just because you forgive m-me doesn't mean you like me"

"Spence look at me"

Grab his face and kiss him softly

"I promise you're not the only one that wants this to be more than a one time thing"

"Really"

"Yes Spence, I'd love to call you my boyfriend if that's alright with you."

"Yes please"

He attached his lips to my neck sucking harshly

"Baby boy we have to be up early tomorrow and if you don't stop I won't be able to resist fucking you again."

He still didn't stop so I shot him a glance as a warning and he stopped, god I love how submissive he is.

Before I knew it I was getting woken up by my alarm. I took a second to admire how cute he looked before I woke him up but eventually I had too. We had to meet the team downstairs for breakfast.

We both took our time in the shower, and ended up fucking so we had to rush to get dressed. So much so we both forgot about the marks we left on each other.

When we finally got downstairs the whole team was there, all was normal until Morgan noticed something.

"Damn pretty boy I didn't know you had it in you"

"What, what are you talking about"

Spencer asked

"You and y/n over here both have marks, y'all definitely fucked last night."

His face turned a deep shade of pink and as cute as it was I had to step in.

"Okay and? We fucked this morning in the shower too"

Unfortunately this barely phased him and he kept talking

"So y/n how's his dick game"

"I wouldn't know, I was the one in charged"

"No way"

"I'll prove it"

I walked over to Spencer and slightly pinched his butt and he let out an involuntary whimper

"Mommy"

It was barely audible but it was just loud enough to the entire team to hear

Now it was his turn to be speechless

But eventually hotch finally broke the silence

"You know this isn't what I was expecting when I made y'all room together but anything is better that that bickering"

This time the entire team chimed in

"Most definitely"

"Agreed"

"Yes."

I was about to defend myself but Spencer interrupted me

"Hey-"

"Y/n it's fine"

"What did I say about interrupting me"

"I'm sorry, ma'am"

"Good, now let's go solve this case"

[buckyownsmylife]

The Other Woman - Steve Rogers smut

The one where Steve is tired of pretending he doesn’t want another woman.

Warnings: infidelity, smut, breeding kink, humiliation, friendship betrayal, angst

Word count: 1.5k<

A/N: I’m weirdly proud of this piece because it was written as a way of coping with my self-harm. Instead of hurting myself physically, I sat down and wrote what my worst nightmare would look like. I can’t say I’ll never write anything like this again, because this was extremely cathartic in a way I can’t comprehend, but anyway, here it is. It’s written entirely in Steve’s P.O.V. and it’s open to interpretation if reader’s the one being cheated on or the one with whom Steve cheats.

I could feel her eyes on me all the way across the room. If I was another man - the strong man everyone expected me to be all the time - I would have been able to ignore it. But I knew I wasn’t. I knew I was weak, still the skinny little boy from Brooklyn who couldn’t believe a woman would even look my way, much less want me this badly.

That was why I excused myself from the conversation I was pretending to have and made my way towards my wife. That was why I made some lame excuse about having a headache - something I wasn’t even able to feel - and told her I was leaving for the night. That was why I went back to my room, sat down on my bed and waited for her, knowing eventually, she’d come inside.

“Steve?” She still sounded hesitant when she pushed the door open, wide eyes looking for me and finding me on the edge of my bed, waiting for her. Immediately, instinctively, I reached out for her, needing to feel her skin, her warmth, to know she really was there.

“How much did you drink?” I asked, not wanting her to regret this any more than she already would tomorrow morning, eyebrows furrowed as I watched her climb my lap, her dress riding up her thighs until it pooled around her hips, exposing her underwear. “You wouldn’t do this shit sober.”

“C’mon, Steve…” She whined, clearly edging the line between tipsy and drunk, and I bit my lip in a last effort to suppress my desire. Not because I didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to violate my marital bed, but because I wanted to hear her argument, needed to see her beg for me. “Let me make you feel good.”

I swallowed her next words with my mouth, tongue exploring hers with a hunger that had only proliferated after I exchanged rings with someone who wasn’t her. When her hips pressed against mine, tentatively rolling, I knew there was no way I’d ever part with her - marriage be damned.

“I know she doesn’t let you touch her the way you want to,” she whispered after we parted, eyes caring and empathetic as she leaned her face on the hand with which I cradled her cheek. I didn’t need to ask, I knew how she knew it. They were best friends for a reason. I didn’t doubt that the same complaints I had trusted Bucky with a thousand times before had made their way on her ears, telling the other side of the story. “I know she can’t take it, but I want to.”

A shudder ran down my spine as her warm mouth enveloped my thumb, and when I opened my eyes again, I knew they were darker, barely recognizable. “I’ll let you use me,” she pressed on, unaware that she had already won the battle. I’d never tell her no. “Please, use me.”

The anxiety of knowing the door would open up at any second and reveal my wife’s sweet eyes as she took in this betrayal only added to my arousal. I was a terrible man, I knew - and I didn’t care. Her best friend’s underwear was gone in a second, a show of strength I didn’t need to use to impress her - her pussy was already wet, dripping for me.

“Oh, shit,” I moaned when I dipped my fingers inside of her, feeling the tightness I would soon ruin. My cock ached inside my pants, begging me to release it of its confines, shove it in a completely different one. “So wet.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, rutting against my digits, panting over my open lips. “I’ve been wanting you so bad.” A groan escaped the depths of my chest, my resolve slipping even further, almost completely out of reach. My hands abandoned her to reach for my pants, unbuttoning them and releasing my dick from it, rubbing the leaking head against her opening.

“Let me be the other woman, Steve…” She whispered against the crook of my neck, holding me tight against her while she rubbed herself against me. My heart broke a thousand times at hearing her request.

“I don’t want that,” I argued, pulling away to see her face, cradle it between my hands. “I want you to be the only woman.” She bit her lips then, taking a hold of my cock to place it where we both needed it to be, still only teasing us both.

“I want you to be mine.” And that’s when she finally sat down on me, letting me fill her, inch by glorious inch. My fingers tightened around her hips, undoubtedly leaving marks behind, but she didn’t even peep. It was almost like she liked it, knowing she brought me to the edge of my control, her head thrown back and her breasts bouncing before me as she started to ride me.

“Oh, fuck yes…” I groaned, helping her movements as I watched her, hypnotized. “This is where you belong now,” I warned her, pulling her even closer so I could kiss her again.

“Yeah?” She confirmed it, smirk on her face as she kept fucking herself on me. “This is mine now? This dick is mine now?” My body spasmed, hearing her say something like this while I was buried to the hilt inside of her was just too much to take.

“Yes, fuck yes.” I pulled her in for another kiss, letting her regain control of her movements as I had to lean back in an effort to keep myself together. The view was flawless though, and watching her breasts bounce up and down didn’t exactly help my efforts to hold on.

“Yeah? You’re not gonna fuck her anymore, Captain? Won’t let her touch you, will leave all your cum for me, forever?” Her words had me gasping, eyes widening as I suddenly realized I was fucking my wife’s best friend without any sort of protection.

It wasn’t a problem in my marriage, since my wife was on the pill and always reminded me she was never going off of it, terrified of ever getting pregnant, but I knew the same couldn’t be said about the woman on top of me.

She was fertile, I just knew it, and by the way she was frantically riding me, I knew she was just as eager to get my cum as I was to give it to her. “You want it?” I had to confirm, not believing someone - the someone I had tried not to want for so long - wanted to have my babies, give me everything I’d always dreamed of in life.

“You wanna have my babies?” In the distant part of my brain, I could still notice the door slowly opening, making me raise my gaze from her chest to see my wife’s shocked features, betraying her hurt as she took in the situation. “Say it, baby. Say you want my cum deep inside your cunt.”

Her moan resonated across the room, and I witnessed my wife flinch, profoundly hurt by the scene in our bedroom, but unable to look away. It made me even harder, somehow, and I knew right then that I was going straight to hell, but I didn’t care.

All I knew was that nothing would stop me from cumming inside the woman who was riding me, not my wife, not God himself. “I want it so badly, Stevie,” she begged, movements growing more frantic as she tried to reach her high. “Please, give it to me. Let me give you what she never could.”

The sob at the door caught her attention, and she looked over her shoulder to find her best friend staring back at her, witnessing the betrayal we were both conducting.

My fingers pressed tighter on her hips, scared she’d stop and scramble off, but she just returned her gaze to me, hips still moving. “Tell her, Stevie,” she incited, fingers tracing my jaw and dipping my head back so she could kiss down my throat. “Tell her the truth.”

A gasp escaped my lips as she bit down on the crook of my neck, my own hips jutting up to join her in bliss. “I’m in love with her,” I informed my wife, taking sick delight in the way tears started running down the cheeks I’d kissed so many times. “She’s gonna give me everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Both of us reached our highs then, me with a deep groan and her with a drawn-out moan, perfectly harmonized in the otherwise silent bedroom. By the time I managed to lay her down on the bed and ask her to show me her pussy, I’d almost forgotten about the other presence in the room, witnessing the cum dripping from the cunt of my beloved just as I was. Once she left, however, and the woman on the bed reached out for me, I could only think that this was it. This was the end of my marriage.

And I was okay with it.

[beyondspaceandstars]

Take Me Away

Relationship: Wanda Maximoff x Reader Warnings: slight angst, eventual fluff Summary: Royalty!AU - You and your lady-in-waiting Wanda have been in a secret, forbidden relationship but everything gets tested when your father, the King, announces you are to be wed to a prince from a neighboring country. A/N: i’ve been loving royalty!au stuff lately and wanted to take my own stab at it. it’s not the most complicated, spectacular piece but i enjoyed writing it!

Masterlist

Wanda always arrived to your chambers right at the crack of dawn. Ever the punctual one, your lady-in-waiting never wasted a second once that bright light of a new day came through the windows. Sometimes she was even tasked with waking you up, ranting and raving about how your gown was going to take forever to lace up or that your hair wasn’t going to be dry enough to meet your family for breakfast.

Her frantic attitude always made you laugh. You thought her worrying heart was so silly and to show for it, you’d sometimes make it a point to shut her up with a kiss. One thing would lead to another until you two were lost among the silk sheets.

That all, though, had come to a stop today. Wanda was late this morning and you sadly knew why. Her heart must’ve been breaking, taking all her energy to pick up the pieces one by one this morning. You didn’t blame her, really, you felt the same break within you.

It had all fallen out last night. Your father, the usually benevolent King, had held a feast for your court and the royal family of a neighboring country. This wasn’t unusual for him as he very much loved to entertain. Everything had been going smooth. You were lost in the dancing and laughing with the patron, eagerly showing off the brand new dress your tailor had delivered that morning. You even got to sneak some cheeky glances at Wanda who stood off with the other servants, ready when needed.

Everything came to a screeching halt the second dinner had concluded. In between the refills of wine and arrival of dessert, your father had a surprise announcement to. It was as if a million bombs were going off. He revealed you were set to be married to the bordering country’s Prince. No one had told you, not even a hint from your mother, just this public declaration. You looked towards the king and his son — your soon-to-be-husband — and they were just beaming with joy. All plans and politics were falling into place for them while your world was crumbling.

You had excused yourself to the bathroom where you vomited profusely. Wanda, though, didn’t arrive to help. In fact, she didn’t arrive to your room for the rest of the night, sending one of the temporary servants instead.

You fell asleep feeling the loneliest you had felt in a long time. And those feelings certainly weren’t subsiding as you sat at your vanity the next morning, still waiting for Wanda.

You had been sitting alone for so long you thought she had abandoned her duties — or maybe she had just straight up retired last night and you were waiting on nothing — but then there was the unmistakable sound of your heavy door creaking open followed the gentle clicking of it closing. You peered into your looking glass, shifting it so slightly to show you the presence behind you.

"Wanda," you sighed, her naming falling from your lips as if it was the sweetest honey.

"Your Highness." While unsurprising, her cold and stoic response cut you. Your body tensed. Last time she had called you that was upon your very first meeting. Before she was the lover you kept in the shadows. Before there was ever a chance of losing her. The royal title felt like a death sentence now.

After a deep breath, you slowly placed the looking glass back on the table. You felt Wanda approach you from behind with caution. You didn’t know whether to turn around or ask her to begin her morning duties. If you were to be really honest with yourself, you just wanted to grab her and hold one another.

But Wanda seemed to have decided for the both of you. Hesitantly, she reached for the brush on the vanity and gently began on your hair. You wanted to cry.

"Wanda, please," you mumbled. "Talk to me."

"Talk to you?" She repeated, her fingers now running through your hair giving slight pulls as she fixed the curls. The actions reminded you of when she would… "And what would you like me to say?"

"Something, anything!" You were nearly crying, your words coming out in weak begs. "I didn’t know anything about it, you have to trust me on that. I—I don’t want… I could never—,"

"Never, what?" Wanda cut you off, the brushing motions in your hair suddenly halted. "You couldn’t possibly think we could ever be together fully. I’ll admit, I indulged in this fantasies but I’ve stopped. We weren’t meant to be and you sure weren’t meant to be a single princess forever." She cleared her throat. "This was bound to happen, I fear."

"No, no," you fought back, shaking your head insistently. Wanda placed a hand on your shoulder, trying to calm you down, but you only jumped at the touch, feeling that burning connection between you two. You couldn’t believe how much hold she had over you. How much you had over one another.

"Your Highness, I’m afraid—,"

"We can run away." The words slipped out of you so fast you never had a chance to bite your tongue. It felt like the world stopped, like you had created your own bomb to set off. Wanda’s grip on your shoulder got tighter. You straightened your posture, meaning business now despite the tears still flowing. You placed your hand atop of hers and continued, "I really think we could do it, dear. I can access the family funds, we could pack a few things, then be off in the night. Wouldn’t that just be nice? We could go wherever, start whatever life we want. You’re not wrong to say this was bound to happen but that doesn’t mean we can’t escape it."

"My Lady… There must be some consideration for the prince, the kingdoms, your subjects—,"

"They’re better to have no ruler than one who lives in constant agony."

The declaration was bold but it was the farthest from a lie. You decided to finally turn and face Wanda, your hand now holding hers with the greatest, most loving strength. The first thing you noticed were her eyes. They were so red and heavy, no doubt from hours of crying. Her hair was a mess as well, complimented by the worn down servants gown she wore. She hadn’t put any effort in today, probably dragging herself about as you predicted.

Slowly, you pressed a soft kiss to the back of her hand. Wanda let out a breathy gasp. When you met her eyes again, it appeared the deal had been sealed. But you needed her to say it.

"We can really do this, can’t we?" She asked shyly.

You nodded, a little grin playing at your lips. "I think we could go anywhere," you confirmed. "Maybe we can start a farm, raise some chickens or cows. Or — Oh! We could start a nice garden. I loved the one here but father wouldn’t let me learn how to care for it."

Wanda sighed as she watched you get lost in a new fantasy, one way beyond just being together but having a life. "Speaking of your father, he will send people after us, won’t he? The palace guards will die trying to find us if they have to."

You simply shrugged. Sure, she wasn’t wrong, but this was a big place and who knew what bigger places were out there. "Let them," you finally said. "We’ll be so far long gone before they realize it they won’t know what hit them."

Silence fell between you two.

"You’re going to give up all this for a chance for us to be together?" Wanda finally asked, motioning towards the gloriousness of the castle chamber. She was a very thorough one, extremely detailed-oriented, which made her the best partner-in-crime you had decided before ever engaging romantically. Eventually, it was one of the things that made you fall head over heals. She noticed everything, always the sweet and cool observer. You didn’t blame her for using the skill now.

"Wanda, dear," you sighed as your hand crept its way to her neck. "I’d give it all up a million times over to be with you."

Your sweet lover looked like she was now going to cry so you took the leap to lean up, catching her lips with yours. After a stunned moment, she returned the kiss, your lips moving in a familiar sync. It was electrifying knowing you hadn’t lost her. Knowing she was most likely going to be it for you, forever. Completely devoted to one another, comfortably and freely.

Wanda’s hand begin caressing your cheek when she pulled away slightly. Your foreheads were touching now but it still wasn’t close enough for you.

"Let’s do it," she whispered. "Take me away."

Words seemed so hard, something only the presence of Wanda could do to you. Unable to figure what was right to say now, of all times, you nodded and wrapped one arm around her waist. You pulled her into you, hugging her with all your might. She didn’t hesitate to return the embrace, soaking each other in.

"Of course, dear," you eventually said. Such small words they held the mysterious beginning and marked the glorious end.

[inviouswriting]

Family with you

Simeon x fem!reader

Some light smuts mixed in, but mostly fluff. Nothing graphic but enough to be cut.

If mc was already a mother when arriving to Devildom with their child. Needed something for myself too. 

TW: for reasoning behind the father figure not in as a result of them leaving, or uninterested. Abandoning mc. 

When you had first arrived at Devildom, the others were surprised to the child with you. Looking no older than between five to seven and hiding behind you. Lucifer was first to be taken aback by this exchange, and Diavolo immediately is dropping down to say hello.

Things progressed as they normally did afterwards. You had a stronger backbone when it came to threats and reminded the demons that you’ll have their horns and wings if anything happened to your child. 

You are single, and comforted your child as best as you can in a world full of demons. Diavolo set up a special way for your child to be cared for while you attended RAD. Spending time with Barbatos, to learn from him rather than be around all the chaos.

When you met Simeon, it was like something clicked between you two. Barbatos had brought your child to you at the end of the day, and Simeon is already enamored by them. His eyes shined at seeing them, and you feel trusting of the angel. Luke sees a potential friend, close in age, able to relax, though he felt more like an older brother figure. 

“Why not visit us a little more?” Simeon offers, and you take him up on the offer for any peace and quiet from House of Lamentations. A steady relationship bloomed between you and Simeon. Alot of the time spent guiding both Luke and your child in the right directions.

When Simeon asked how your child came to be, you felt your face hot at mentioning everything prior to Devildom, whether a joyful one or a unpleasant. Your child was someone you never regretted, even out of wedlock. 

Simeon understood the question he asked was personal, and remembered how it sounded from an angel.

“I mean genuinely, I am not asking you or putting you under a confessional. I am just curious, do you have anyone in your life... in the human world?” You see the dusting of pink on his face, and it clicks for you.

“No, they’re not in the picture anymore.” At your words Simeon takes your hands into his own, realizing he has a full chance. 

“Would you go on some dates with me then?” You are surprised at this, and want to say yes, but your eyes drift to your child playing a game with Luke. 

“I’d love to, but who would watch them?” You haven’t quite trusted the brothers, the closest one you feel you could is Beelzebub, and Asmodeus. 

“I think Barbatos can, he does enjoy both Luke and your child. I’m sure it would be fine to escape for an evening.” He offers solutions, and you agree to a date.  Agreeing was easier than the actual planning.

The night arrived, and you are dressed nicer than you normally are. Asmodeus being supportive and helped with an outfit that accents a Ristorante Six date. Simeon took care of arranging Luke and your child to be with Barbatos to learn how to cook some things together.

All that was needed was you, so Simeon met you at the restaurant. When he first saw you, he thought you really are an angel in disguise. Once inside, you talk about your life prior to Devildom, him learning more about the things you’ve gone through to raise this child, the hardships you’ve faced and he feels more protective of the idea of being with you.

Simeon walked with you for hours afterwards, you went back to House of Lamentations to drop off food you had leftovers from to Beelzebub. Promising him at least a dessert. The rest of the evening was spent walking through the city portion with Simeon. Getting to know him, his ranking as an angel, how he is raising Luke almost as a child of his own.

“More like grandson.” He amuses aloud, and you gently poke his sides. A moment is stilled between you and he takes his first kiss with you overlooking the Devildom.

After that first date, many more were had, till you are sure you are inseparable to Simeon as much as your child is so fond of Luke. 

When you became so entangled in your angels life and him in yours. You find yourself yearning for the love you two have made. Seeing him fall head over heels with your child, you laugh at moments when he is tender and gentle teaching them different ways. 

There have been only a few fights, only when it came to how you chose to raise your child. A little more firmness than Simeon letting Luke have free reign to learn from his own mistakes. You still had a role as a mother, and reminded Simeon that it works for him, but not for you in some aspects. You reminded your child of boundaries whenever Luke showed discomfort in sharing something.

After an evening of sharing insecurities with Simeon, explaining how hard it has been being alone. He runs his hands through your hair to remind you, you are not alone anymore. You question if he finds you attractive, the hour late, and you both knew Luke and your child sound asleep.

Simeon expresses his desires in you, even when you shyly bared yourself to him, he graciously kissed any marks left on your body from carrying those years ago. Didn’t care of your breasts were a little uneven, or what others have said as a “mom” body. Whether you were skinny or you never lost the weight, belly that sagged or didn’t look right to yourself.

“This is the result of the miracle you have brought into the world. And you are far more beautiful than you realize.” Simeon looks over every spot of you, blue eyes curious to the scars he may see, whether you had a rough pregnancy, or the scars left to save you both. He leaves no spot unkissed, letting you feel truly seen and loved more than the first time a man took interest only to leave later on.

Simeon sees the faint hurt in your eyes when it is reflected after kissing a spot that flared a memory. He replaces that memory with his own touch, reminding you that he loves you even as he loves you till you are clutching his bedsheets or pillows.

In the morning you feel wonderful, renewed and shy as those dark arms are wound around you possessively. Simeon not wanting to let go of you yet, your eyes being greeted to his face first thing, blue eyes meeting yours. 

You tease each other, tease long enough that Simeon coaxes you into a softer session with him in the shower together. Where he holds you up against the wall and any of those smut novels never compared to the things an angel has done to you.

When you broke the news to both Luke and your child about your relationship, Luke is surprised and almost unsure, questioning Simeon about whether he wants to risk his job as an angel. Simeon refutes this with.

“There are no risks involved, I’m in love.” You realize he could lose his wings.. you don’t want to make him choose. Your child on the other hand looks at Simeon with love in them. That an angel could literally be their father.

“Does this mean you’ll get married?” The thought crosses your mind with Simeon glancing to you, perhaps hopeful of your thoughts on the idea.

“It might mean that, if he wants to be.” You feel a squeeze in your hand from Simeon, and you catch his gaze. He is successful in the things he does, and he shines unique as an angel.

“I would love that. To have a family with you. Perhaps once we are in the human world?” Simeon asks, and you nod to make that a goal. 

The path to marriage was longer, going through so much, that the evening when Simeon actually asks you to marry him, you thought he was joking. It was on his birthday, and you had spent the day with him. Luke and your child set up a pleasant surprise for you both, getting Barbatos and Diavolo in on this unique exchange.

“Of course!” You are happy to no end and Simeon is relieved. The ceremony is held on the spot, as a more private exchange. The brothers agreed once you had chosen Simeon solely.

It isn’t until you were given a honeymoon to Diavolo’s private island that the need for your angel was truly awakened. Spending almost every day with him and night finding out just how much Simeon wanted you more than you realized. You wondered how much he held back from the first time you were together. 

Soon you settle into a routine with the new life with Simeon. That it surprised you when you found out you are pregnant again. Fear rises in you, as this was the scenario you had the first time. Perfectly happy, then it came crashing down when the other half didn’t want to be involved.

So you hide it from Simeon, for now. You wanted to wait before you told him, to see if your body could handle another. It isn’t until you are lying down fatigued that Simeon catches on. His fingers are tender as they touch your stomach to sense life, giving you a firm stare for not telling him sooner.

“My love, how long have you known?” He questions, he is already pressing his face to say hi to the life forming. 

“Only a few weeks... I wanted to be sure that this one will stay.” Simeon looks up smiling, the intensity in his eyes fades.

“My lamb... how could you keep this wonderful secret from me.” Your hands card through dark brown hair, bright blue eyes peek up more framed by dark skin. He is over the moon and nuzzles his face into your belly. 

You smile and feel a little guilty he found out this way. You wanted to tell him, and see him full of joy instead of concern. Though his happy expression keeps you from spoiling him too much. You learn him and his ways of showing love, but this side of him. 

You are amazed at how much he dotes and loves you. Seeing the blush on his face realizing all those sleepless nights resulted in a life that is of you and him. That this brings you two closer than ever.

When Simeon looks up he sees your eyes brimming with tears and he freaks wondering if he did something wrong.

“Please don’t leave me...” You plead him, and he remembers that years ago that a child is the reason your first doesn’t have a father. Whether by them leaving, vanishing, or expressing unwanted. He sees the pain return to your eyes, the wound that he had spent so many times trying to mend to heal your heart.

Simeon moves to sit with you and cups your face into his hands as he presses loving kiss after kiss.

“Never will leave you. Not now, not ever.” You tremble in sobs at the shock still going through you of the fear settling in, that it “could” happen. He could grow tired, just like before. When things got tough and they just left. 

Simeon sees the hurt still, and it takes coaxing from him to get you to curl up into his side. His colder hands pressed to your forehead as a nausea wave hits you and you let go of all your fears and tell him you are afraid he will leave you.

He assures you, he is there permanently, he won’t leave, not unless you chase him out yourself. And that breaks you of your spell, the fear of pushing a literal angel away overwhelms you and you raise up to kiss him like you haven’t before.

You still had hours before Luke and your child would be home, you spend the next few hours entangled together. You and Simeon on the floor of the house you call home. His hands going over every speck of you, and kissing away your worries. He is surprised when you take initiative to ride him, and your love making with the angel is truly felt through every nerve that you hold onto each other tight.

When you woke up much later, Simeon is next to you in the bed you share, just watching your face serenely. Foreheads pressed together.

“What time is it?” You question him, and start to raise to look at a clock and Simeon guides you to lie down.

“Almost time to make dinner. We still have time before they’re back. Let me spend this time with you?” You look at him and lay your head back down next to his. He seeks out your left hand to rub at your wedding band, while his other hand presses over your belly. He’s more loving here than what he did hours ago, touches you with such tenderness that you feel your heart thudding in your chest.

You indulge Simeon as he presses loving kisses and you both discuss the possible baby names. Simeon ever grateful you choose to be with him and love him.

[nastybuckybarnes]

Of Kings and Beasts  -  Six

Pairing: King!Bucky X Princess!Reader X King!Steve

Summary: Born a bastard of the King of Orlen, you’re thrust to the West to marry the Kings. However, the greeting you get is anything but warm, and your life with the King is far from enjoyable. He knows it isn’t your fault his husband is gone, but that fact alone won’t prevent him from taking it out on you.

Warnings:  Angst, Fluff, Near-Death, Smut (Oral, F receiving), 

Word Count: 4K

A/n: I think that this series has a vibe that is very blue and grey. Like, if I could associate the feeling with a colour it would be like a dark blue and light grey. Idk it’s just how I feel. I also have a playlist that I might drop for this series cause it’s gotten me writing soooo much. Anyway, I loved writing this part and I hope you guys like it!!

THIS SERIES CONTAINS SMUT AND DARK THEMES THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME AUDIENCES!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

~*~

Your head tilts back, a melodic laugh falling from your pretty lips, and Steve smiles warmly down at you.

James watches from the library window as his husband drapes his cloak over your shoulders, keeping you warm as the two of you walk through the falling snow in the gardens.

“You called for me, your Majesty?” James turns to the voice, nodding and waving the doctor over.

“What I am about to tell you remains between us and us alone, do you understand?” The doctor nods slowly, confused beyond his wits.

“I have been experiencing thoughts that are not my own. I fear my mind... it is not mine. I know not how nor why, but I... I feel as if someone has taken hold of my mind and my body.” The doctor is silent, his eyebrows raised nearly to his hairline.

“Can you elaborate a bit, your Majesty? I... I don’t think I’m understanding.” James nods, sighing heavily.

“I... I have blank spaces in my memory. I awake in places where I have not gone and I have bruises and marks that I do not remember acquiring. It is as if I am not in control of my own body at times.” Banner ponders this for a moment before nodding.

“If you follow me, I’d like to do a few inspections to see if there is anything on the surface that could be of any use in figuring out what exactly is happening to you.”

The King follows the Doctor to his office, sitting down upon the operation table.

The Doctor’s cold fingers probe along the King’s hairline, feeling for any unusual bumps or scratches.

Just as he’s about to give up, he feels a ridge along the base of the King’s skull.

“Lean forward, Your Majesty.” He complies, leaning forward and dropping his head to give the Doctor a better view of the spot in question.

“An incision has been made here. And not by me. It has been stitched expertly. Were I not so trained I would have missed it. Your concerns are very valid, your Majesty. Should I call in King Steven and tell him the news?” James shakes his head immediately.

“If this has been done without even my noticing, it has been done by someone close and near. We cannot risk them finding out. Steve cannot know, and neither can (Y/n).” The very mention of your name has his blood boiling for some reason.

“Your Majesty... may I ask... what thoughts are you having that have been so concerning?” The King sighs, squeezing his eyes shut.

“I fear that whoever has done this to me has done it with the intention of ruining my marriage and destroying my kingdom right from the inside. With the very thought of my husband or my wife, I am filled with anger unlike anything I’ve ever felt. It fades as days pass, and then it will be brought back out of the blue.” The Doctor purses his lips, trying to piece things together.

“May I take a few tests? I would like to analyze some samples. Perhaps they can bring us closer to figuring out what has happened.” The King nods, laying down and allowing the doctor to do whatever procedures he’d like.

“Must you go?” You ask sadly, looking down at where your hand is linked with Steve’s.

“Unfortunately I must. I would much rather spend time with you, however, the council has urgent matters that must be discussed. I will join you for dinner, on that I promise.” He leans down and presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Do you think James will join us tonight?” You ask softly. Although he hasn’t been the kindest to you, you were enjoying the time you spent with him and are missing his presence.

You have hardly seen him since the day he and Steve came to your chambers.

“I cannot guarantee it. I hope he will, but I do not think we will be so lucky.” You nod sadly, sighing when he lets go of your hand.

He cups your cheeks in both of his warm hands, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips. Your heart races in your chest and you hold onto his wrists, leaning up into the gentle touch of his lips against your own.

Your eyes stay closed as he pulls away and he chuckles softly, pecking your lips once more before stepping backwards.

“I will come to find you as soon as I can, my love.” With that, he takes his leave. A smile spreads on your face and you sigh like a young maiden in love.

The thought takes you by surprise and you realize that you could very much be falling in love with Steve. He’s kind and gentle with you, and he’s taken the time to get to know you. He’s a man that you would willingly marry.

You’re getting ready to head back inside when you’re intercepted by a knight.

“Your Majesty.” He bows deeply then stands back up, a smile on his face.

“Do you require something?” You ask. He nods, offering you his arm.

“I have been ordered by King James to escort you to the stables. He wishes to go riding with you.” Your heart jumps in your chest, excitement filling you at the thought of getting to spend time with your other husband.

The knight is swift in his walk and you nearly have to jog to keep up.

You find it slightly strange that James would want to go riding when the snow is starting to fall harder, but you pay it no mind.

The knight helps you up onto your horse when you get to the stables, a smile on his face.

“The King wishes to meet you out past the stream. It is ten minutes west. He is eager to see you.” You nod, gathering the reins in your hands and thanking the knight as your horse leads you through the growing snow.

Steve’s cloak does little to keep you warm as the wind blows hard against you. Even through the layers of your dress and your coat, the coldness seeping through and chilling you straight to your core.

You’re not sure how many minutes go by, but the snow is thickening quickly, and before long you can hardly see in front of yourself.

“James!” You shout, trying desperately to find the King.

Your horse slows, not liking the storm. She turns you in a circle then huffs out a breath through her nose.

You’re about ready to head back when she suddenly raises up onto her hind legs, sending you falling to the snow beneath you.

You yelp out in pain as you break your fall with your arm, pain shooting up.

The wind howls in your ears as you push yourself to your knees, fear grabbing your heart and making it race as you struggle to see past your nose.

Snow gathers in thick clumps on your eyelashes, weighing them down and adding to the struggle.

“Aryo!” You call out for your horse, pushing yourself to your feet and wrapping your arms around yourself to try and preserve what little heat you have left.

It doesn’t take long for you to realize you’re alone, your horse long gone to find shelter in the storm. You don’t blame her. You would have abandoned yourself too.

Teeth chattering, you try and find any trace of a path to follow back to the Palace as the storm rages on around you.

“Is that the Queen’s horse?” Nat asks, looking out the window at the blizzard.

James is on his feet in an instant, looking out the window then at the redhead.

“Where is she?”

She shakes her head, “Steve dismissed me. But he’s in a meeting now. I would have thought she’d come back but I haven’t seen her since.”

Before she’s finished speaking, James is sprinting down the stairs.

He pays no mind to the snow, feet pulling him to the stables as the stable boy tries to calm down your mare.

“Where is the Queen?” He asks desperately, shouting over the wind. The stable boy shakes his head.

“I was dismissed by a member of the guard. He had the queen with him and the last I saw she was riding west.”

The colour drains from the King’s face as he looks towards the dark clouds rolling in.

“Get me my horse. Now!” The boy turns and runs to get the King his horse, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste.

“You’re going out there?!” He turns around to face Natalia, nodding. “She’s out there and she may be in danger. I know Steve would not entrust anyone but Sam or you to escort her anywhere.” His conversation with Doctor Banner earlier rings in his mind and he feels fear claw its way up his throat.

“Have a warm bath prepped. Bring all the furs from the entire Palace to her chambers and have the fire ready. And find Steve as soon as you can.” The stable boy brings over James’ horse and the King is mounted upon his stallion and taking off into the storm.

You don’t know where you are or where you’re going. You can hardly feel your body. Everything is so heavy and you want to take a break, rest your eyes for a moment to regain your strength.

You stopped shivering a while ago.

Trudging through the knee-high snow, you blow warm air onto your frozen hands, trying desperately to warm something up. Shivering was so much better than this.

Something catches on your shoe and you fall face-forward into the snow with a yelp.

Instead of standing up, you roll onto your back, eyes half-open as snowflakes kiss your face.

Just a moment. That’s all you need. A moment to rest.

Your eyelids flutter closed and warmth settles into your limbs.

In the distance, you swear you hear someone calling your name, and you can’t help but smile. In this vast expanse of nothing but white... he cares for you.

Even if he’s only a figment of your imagination, he cares.

You’re jolted back to reality by the sound of your name being bellowed close by. Eyes heavy with snow, you slowly look around, neck stiff and frozen.

James jumps down from his horse, your figure barely visible through the snow.

“(Y/n)!” He sprints to you, foot slipping on a patch of ice and nearly pulling him to the ground.

His arms are cradling your frame as soon as he’s close enough, one hand pushing the snow out of your face and pressing his fingers to your neck.

“Oh thank the gods,” he whispers, your pulse like a drum grounding him.

He hauls you up into his arms and climbs onto his horse, the stallion taking off through the snow.

“Stay with me, (Y/n), please,” He murmurs, warm lips pressing against your frozen forehead.

Your eyes fall closed again and he has to take deep breaths to calm his racing heart.

Only when the Palace comes into view does he allow himself to feel any form of hope.

He rides right up to the front doors then slides off his horse, your body held securely in his arms. Guards are already waiting, one taking care of his horse while the others lock the Palace doors and clear a path for the King.

He swears he’s never moved this fast in his life.

The door to your chambers is open and as soon as he’s inside, Natalia is pulling you from his grip and hauling you right in front of the fire.

He kicks his shoes off and shrugs out of his coat.

“Get her out of her clothes,” he orders, pulling off his trousers and stripping until he’s nearly naked.

Nat does as ordered, confused until he lies down next to you, pressing your freezing body against his and pulling the furs overtop of the two of you.

The fire burns hot against his face but it’s doing its job.

Soon enough he can feel you breathing heavier against his chest.

"Where is Steve?” The brunet demands, looking over at Nat. She shakes her head. “With the council still. I tried getting him but they would not allow me entrance.” James sighs, tucking your head between his shoulder and his neck and smoothing his flesh hand over your back, hoping the friction will warm you up faster.

Nat takes her leave, hoping to find Steve, and James scoots the two of you closer to the fire.

When you let out a sharp breath then start violently shaking in his arms he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

You’re burning. Tiny needles are prickling your skin all over and it won’t stop. There’s a clattering noise that is absolutely annoying you and you recoil away from the heat.

It’s only when your face gets smushed further against a hot chest that you realize the chattering is your teeth.

“You’re okay,” a deep voice whispers, lips pressed against your frozen hair.

“I-It hurts,” you croak, throat sore and aching.

“I know, dove. I know.” His nose is buried in your hair, warm tears dripping from his eyes as he hugs you close to his chest.

The pain slowly fades and you sigh gratefully, bringing your hands up to press your frozen fingers against his warm torso.

The muscles in his abdomen clench at the contact and he lets out a sharp breath.

“You’re so cold,” he whispers, bringing a leg over yours to drape you in more of his body heat.

Your toes press against his other thigh and he groans.

“S-sorry,” you manage to get the word out without biting your tongue.

“Shh. It’s alright. Just warm up. You’re alright.” You nod, cold lips brushing against his chest. You press the tip of your nose against his skin and the contact nearly burns.

He presses kiss after kiss to the top of your head, thankful his body is always warm.

You gradually stop shivering but he doesn’t let you go, far too terrified that this is the last time he’ll get to hold you.

It’s only when you pull back to look at him that his arms loosen.

You notice his red eyes and instantly frown.

“What’s wrong?” Your voice is hoarse and he makes a note to get Wanda to bring you some tea.

“I...” He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut tightly and kissing your forehead.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, hot tears dripping down onto the furs beneath the two of you.

“For what?” You’re genuinely confused.

“Everything.”

“James, look at me.” He does so, reluctant but desperate to see you. Your lashes are wet and you can’t tell if it’s from the snow or your own tears.

“I’m alright. Without you, I wouldn’t be here. You saved my life.” He shakes his head, sniffling and squeezing you tighter to his chest.

“Why were you out there by yourself?” His voice is weak and muffled but the question confuses you.

“I was told that you wanted to meet me out there. A knight escorted me and delivered me the message. I was confused because it was snowing but I was eager to spend time with you.” He shakes his head, dread settling in his gut as he realizes that someone is indeed trying to sabotage his marriage.

“Did the knight give you his name?” You shake your head, fingers tracing patterns on his chest.

“I never told anyone anything. I was with Doctor Banner for a better portion of the day.” Your brows furrow and you pull back to look at him.

“If it was not you who sent for me... why would...” You trail off, eyes widening.

“He meant for me to die out there, didn’t he?” James swallows hard then nods, sighing heavily.

“That’s how it would seem. I do not know if those were his intentions and we will need to question him. But that all comes second.”

You snuggle against his chest further, his warmth and scent engulfing you and making you feel beyond safe.

“James?” You ask softly, pulling back again to look at him when he doesn’t answer.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” The heartbreak in your voice makes him want to die. He presses his forehead against yours and his lips quiver.

“I am terrified of being near you because all I have ever done is bring you pain. I do not wish to do that. Not ever again.” You bring one hand up and cup his face, wiping a tear off of his cheek.

“The only way you will bring me pain is by pushing me away. I miss you.” Your eyes flash down to his lips then back up to his eyes.

“With every day that goes by and I do not see you... I am saddened. We did not start our marriage well, but we can fix it. Please, James, don’t push me away anymore.” Your pleading breaks his heart and he nods, sniffling again.

“If I ask something of you... will you do it?” You ask softly. He nods without hesitation.

“Anything.”

You wait a beat, your heart thumping hard in your chest.

“Kiss me.” His eyes flash open and he pulls back to look at you. When the edges of your lips curve up he nods again, leaning down slowly.

His warm lips meet yours in a kiss that is filled with unspoken words and forbidden feelings. Tears cascade down his face and he leans further into the kiss, pushing himself up onto his metal forearm and rolling slightly until you’re on your back and he’s on his side. His flesh hand comes up to rest gently on the side of your neck, the thumping of your pulse beneath his fingers enough to have him relaxing.

Your hands come up instinctively to his hair, fingers tugging through the damp strands as you share your first real kiss with your husband.

His tears drip onto your face and you feel your heart break for him. You pull him closer, leg lifting and hitching around his waist to bring him flush against your body.

It’s like he’s never touched you before.

The feeling of your breasts pressing against his bare chest combined with the way you’re pulling him tight against you is enough to have him stirring in his britches.

He pulls away, shaking his head.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmurs. You sigh, fingers threading through his glorious locks. “You won’t. I just want to feel you. Have you close to me. Please.”

The look on your face has his resolve crumbling and, as if smelling your success, you pull him down, lips crashing against his.

“Will you let me try something? To make you feel good?” He asks breathlessly against your mouth. You’re not sure if anything can feel better than this but you’re more than willing to try.

He trails kisses down your body, taking a moment to pepper them over the soft skin of your breasts. His tongue flicks over your right nipple for a moment before retreating back into his mouth and allowing him to continue kissing down down down.

When his head is between your legs you push onto your elbows, nervous about having him somewhere so intimate.

“Relax. It won’t hurt, I promise.” You take a deep breath and nod, relaxing slightly as he presses gentle kisses to the insides of your thighs.

He pulls your legs over his shoulders and traces his tongue over your slit.

You jolt at the contact and he breathes a chuckle before diving in, his tongue working on the little bundle of nerves that makes your toes curl.

“J-James!” You cry, hand instinctively coming to his hair. He loops his arms under your legs, warm hand splayed on your stomach while his cold hand comes to your mound, middle finger slipping inside of you.

He’s gentle, thrusting slowly while his mouth focuses on your clit. Your legs clench around his head as the pleasure builds, a coil tightening in your belly.

A second finger slips inside of you with surprising ease, but you don’t dwell on that for long. His metal digits find the spot inside of you that makes you see stars and, upon hearing the guttural groan of pleasure you make, focus on hitting that spot with every thrust.

Your back arches and your fingers pull his hair so hard that it borders on pain, but one glance at the bliss on your face and the pain is forgotten.

His tongue works your clit while his fingers fuck faster, harder until you’re crying out, legs trembling and face scrunched up in pleasure. Your cunt clenches around his fingers and your slick gushes out around them.

He slowly pulls his fingers from you, cleaning up the mess between your legs with his tongue. The gentle kitten-licks just enough to prolong your climax.

When he finally pulls away and looks at you, you’re already watching him, your chest heaving and sweat glistening on your forehead.

“I suppose we warmed you up, didn’t we?” He asks playfully, grinning when you laugh breathlessly.

He adjusts himself in his pants then lays down with you once again, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“What about you?” You ask shyly, glancing down to the tent in his underwear.

“I can handle it, dove. You need your rest.” You cuddle up against him on the makeshift bed, the crackling of the fire and the feeling of his fingers tracing up and down your spine lulling you into a deep sleep.

He holds you in his arms, mind racing to who might want you out of the kingdom and why, and then to Steve. Steve who’s been gone for a suspiciously long time. Steve who’s supposed to be in a meeting with the council conveniently at the time of you disappearing.

When the blond in question is finally free from the council, Natalia is there to tell him what happened.

He’s bursting into your chambers moments later, his heart in his throat until he sees you asleep with your head on James’ chest, the brunet holding you close to his body beside the smouldering embers of what must’ve been a roaring fire.

A small smile spreads over his face and he closes the door, taking off his shoes and stripping down to his underwear.

He climbs onto the thick cushion of furs, shimmying beneath the blankets draped over your frame and placing his arm over your waist, hand resting against his husband’s stomach.

James reaches down and squeezes Steve’s hand gently, meeting the blond’s eyes over your head.

“What happened?” He asks softly, not wanting to wake you up.

“She was set up,” James replies, his eyes full of so many emotions.

“By who?” James shakes his head, sighing heavily.

“We have much to discuss, but it can wait until morning.” Steve nods in agreement, pressing his body against yours.

You sigh, sandwiched between their warmth and lost in a deep sleep.

Steve is pressed against your back and James against your front, the two holding onto each other’s arms over your waist.

And at that moment everything is as it should be. As it should have been in the first place.

But James knows that this may be only temporary unless they can find the traitor responsible for nearly killing you.

He hopes to the Gods that they find whoever it is soon because now that he has you in his arms, he never wants to let you go.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 11

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: Nope! Notes: Here we are, a breath away from the end. This features not one, but FOUR songs written by myself. If you only choose to listen to one of them, listen to the final one (Cradle of Heaven), as it is a duet I wrote specifically for this fanfiction, as something that the reader wrote to play together with Daniela. The links to these songs will be within the fanfiction itself, at relevant times. Past Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne, Pt. 2: Overture, Pt. 3: Accelerando, Pt. 4: Toccata, Pt. 5: Poco a Poco, Pt. 6: Elegy, Pt. 7: Harmony, Pt. 8: Obbligato, Pt. 9: Berceuse, Pt. 10b: Hymn AMAB

Chapter 11: Cadence

(Cadence: Two chords that mark the end of a song)

The stage is set, the lights are dimmed, your heart pounds within your chest, and the world is yours. Soon, it will be Daniela’s. She is right by your side, as ever, hand gently taking hold of your own. There’s a silent reassurance in her grip, a reminder that the two of you have overcome a plethora of challenges. A promise that this will be no different. Both of you take a deep breath, in sync, before exchanging a quick kiss. All of your hard work has been leading up to the coming moments. Although you are beyond confident in your lover’s abilities, there is a shadow of doubt in the back of your mind. Not for her sake, but surrounding the expectations held by her mother, the standard against which you would be measured.

“Come hell or high water, Songbird, I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise,” Daniela whispers, squeezing your hand again, eyes unblinking as they stare into yours. “You’ve made every right choice, worked harder than anyone I know, and there is nothing more I can ask of you… except another kiss to celebrate afterwards, that is.” Giggling in response gives you the moment you need to relax, nerves fading into the background of your mind. “Now let’s put on a show the likes of which my mother has never seen, mhmm?”

THREE HOURS EARLIER:

“Here, you can borrow my brooch. It’s been in the family for generations, since before we even came to the village, passed down starting with an ancestor who crafted it himself, from materials he scavenged while fleeing his home country,” Daphne rambles, helping you attach the jewelry to your shirt. Thankfully, her hands do not tremble nearly as much as yours have been for the past hour. “I’m more than sure that Lady Daniela will tell you this much, but I feel the need to repeat just how good you look right now. I don’t know where the hell they’ve been hiding this version of our uniform, but damn do I wish I could get one for my next date with Ygritte. Seriously, if you can get one in my size, please do me that favor.”

“Anything for my best friend. Especially after all the times you’ve saved my ass these past few months,” you reply, pausing to give her shoulder an affectionate pat. If not for her constant interference running, someone would have certainly found out about your relationship with Daniela. “Speaking of that… of my life being on the line, I mean… no matter what happens today, no matter what Lady Dimitrescu decides, take care of yourself. You’ve gambled with your own blood to keep me safe, but what I’ve done, what I’ve risked, those were my choices. My consequences. The last thing I’d ever want is for you to pay for them, somehow.”

Rolling her eyes, Daphne gives you a playful shove to the chest, before smoothing out the fabric of your dress uniform. Now she refuses to meet your gaze, a familiar mistiness taking over her brown eyes.

“Nobody around here is stupid enough to think you’ll die today. You managed to get Lady Daniela, of all people, to stay focused long enough to learn some absolutely beautiful pieces of music. You have proved, time and time again, that you are a talented musician, teacher, and ‘servant’. So get out there and kick some metaphorical ass, my friend, because you are ready,” she finally says, offering you what seems to be a handshake. But as soon as your hand meets hers, she’s pulling you in for a hug, holding you tight for a solid minute. When at last you part, you give her what may very well be the last smile she’d ever see gracing your lips.

---------------------------

A hand’s edge against xer forehead, parallel to the ground, kept perfectly flat. From anyone else, it would be mockery. From xer? Honest salute, solidarity in a traditional form, accompanied by a sharp-toothed grin. Mimicking the expression, you wave at Ava, glad to see that xe would be awake for your concert. After your first night with your girlfriend, Daphne had helped arrange for someone to be your “cover story” for sleeping outside of your usual quarters. With Daniela’s input (and jealousy), only one candidate had revealed themselves, in the form of a (conveniently) mute butler with an inconsistent schedule, love of mischief, and somehow the respect of the Dimitrescu family. Now, xe appeared ready to escort you to the location of your trial by fire.

“Are you sure our mutual friend won’t be upset to see the two of us together?” You teased, knowing full well that Ava was one of the only people that Daniela trusted 100% around you. In response, xe gives an exaggerated shrug, then quickly links xer arm with your own. Together you march onwards to your destiny, amused by the way xe practically skipped down the hallway. Maybe there was a certain wisdom to xer shenanigans, a carefree philosophy that encouraged laughter in the face of death, and you embraced the thought with a smile.

Before long, however, the two of you encounter another unlikely pair headed towards the same destination: Lady Cassandra, looking somewhat embarrassed, with an unfamiliar maiden at her side. Their hands are clutching each other desperately, although neither of them dares to look at the other. Instead they both watch you closely from where they’ve paused in the corridor. Oddly unfazed, Ava gives them a short bow of acknowledgement, earning xer a brief nod from Cassandra. Seeming eager to move on, she addresses you quickly before gesturing for you to keep walking.

“Good luck. Don’t fuck this up for Daniela, or I’ll never hear the end of it,” she growls, doing her best to downplay her obvious concern. Wanting to let her keep up with her facade, you merely give a nod as you resume walking towards the concert stage. Soft footsteps behind you let you know that the strange pair are accompanying you. Still walking alongside you, Ava repeatedly glances behind you, putting out xer hands in the shape of a heart, giggling all the while. If you didn’t know any better, you would almost assume that xe wanted to get hit by Cassandra.

“Ava, please calm down. If you’re not careful, she’ll throw something at you. If she does that, you’ll probably dodge, and then I’ll probably end up getting hit, and then I’ll miss the concert, Lady Dimitrescu will kill me as punishment, Daniela will be sad and whiny about it, and none of you will have any peace for, like, a month. Three weeks, bare mims,” you tease, nudging xer in the ribs. Emphasizing a pout, xe sends one last look at Cassandra and her ‘friend’ (whose hand she was still holding onto like a lifeline), mouthing words you couldn’t parse. Based on the way Cassandra groans, it was something ridiculously cheesy. Regardless, xe behaves the rest of the way there…

ONE MINUTE TO SHOWTIME:

“I love you, Firefly, and I know that you’re going to do absolutely amazing out there. I’m so proud of you,” you murmur, pressing a feather-light kiss to Daniela’s cheek. As dearly as you wish to stay behind the curtain, in her arms, you know that the show was inevitable. With one last nod to your beloved, you part the fabric shielding you, stepping into the spotlight. Imaginary crowds grow hushed at your appearance, a sea of faces greeting you warmly. In truth, there are but five members in this audience, each gazing upon you with veiled interest. Donning you best presentation persona, you set this final act in motion. “Lady Dimitrescu, Lady Cassandra, Lady Bela, and Mx. Caldwell, it brings me great pleasure to present to you, on this day, a concert performed by your own Lady Daniela. For three months now I have acted as her instructor, and these three months have been, perhaps, the most rewarding of my entire life. I could not possibly be any more proud of her than I already am. Now, without further ado… let us begin!”

Stepping to the side, a tug of a rope has the curtains parting entirely, revealing your beloved, waiting ready at the piano. All at once your audience (including Cassandra’s partner, acting as a mere servant in the background) sits up with wide smiles. They look Daniela over, taking in the sight of her fanciest dress, and the way her eyes light up with joy. By the time her fingers begin dancing away at the keys, there is not a single ounce of anxiety in your entire soul. This first song is a relic from your past, a representation of an abandoned idea, yet she plays it like a celebration. It’s fast, hits hard, a bold take right out of the gate. Admittedly, it is also somewhat short. Nonetheless, it serves its purpose, igniting a spark of excitement in those present. Once the song ends, Daniela is surprised by the intensity of her family’s applause. In the back of her mind, she trembles with excitement, knowing that the best was yet to come.

Riding this wave of pride, she immediately settles into the next song, something slower but far grander. Affection thrums inside your chest as you watch your pupil perfectly execute another piece. You can only imagine what her mother must be feeling, to see just how far her daughter has come in such a short amount of time. A quick glance in Alcina’s direction reveals the barest hints towards her being impressed. For now that was enough to satisfy you. Soon enough her face would twist in surprise, as the second song ended, and a new face steps up onto the stage: Lady Bela. Wordlessly she retrieves her violin from the back of the stage, then turns to the front with a mischievous smile.

“Now, a duet! Presenting the ever-talented Lady Bela, to join Lady Daniela for a rendition of an original song, dubbed ‘Northern Lights’. Enjoy!” You call out, before once more taking your place at the side. While Daniela did not need you to count her in for her solo performances, this feels ever so slightly more important, and as such you do your best to conduct for the duration of the song. If either of the performers need it, they hide it well. Honestly, you weren’t sure if your girlfriend had looked your way even a single time so far. ‘Twas incredible to witness her. Akin to a siren, near glowing, taking to the stage as if born to grace its center. Even with Bela working her own magic, Daniela is ever the star. Together they weave a lovely song, notes rising high into the air, swirling around an enchanted audience.

When it ends, both performers give a bow, as if the entire affair had come to a close. Without hinting at what was to come, you switch places with the eldest Dimitrescu daughter. A deep breath rattles your ribcage as you find your center, reaching out to take Daniela’s hand, the two of you raising your arms upward in a display of union. For the first time this evening, Lady Alcina narrows her eyes in what feels like disapproval. But you pay her no mind. Instead you sit alongside your beloved, quietly settling into your practiced position.

There is no introduction for this song. No announcement, no showmanship, nor even a countdown into the symphony. Simply, like exhaling a breath, the two of you start to play. Your phrases echo hers, and vice versa, calling and answering, accompanying all the while, natural as anything holy in the wild. ‘Tis the second shortest song of the night, only long enough to showcase the degree of your partnership with Daniela. As the song crescendos into an ending, you manage to meet the gaze of your employer. Perhaps it is merely an illusion of hope, or a reflection of lights above, but you swear you see tears in her eyes.

“Outstanding, incredible,” she praises, rising to her feet alongside her other daughters, clapping all the while. Once again you rise to your feet, hand clasped with Daniela’s, bowing as deeply as you can manage. Before you can even process what’s happening, your girlfriend is being pulled away from you, swept up into the arms of her mother. Desperation digs like a knife into your heart, as you ache to celebrate with her, but you remain ever in the guise of a professional. “You did amazing, my dear. I cannot begin to describe how proud I am.” The family gathers around each other, buzzing with affection fit to make the hardest of hearts melt. You are left on the outside, awkwardly waiting, without a hint of acknowledgment.

Even if this concert was a measure of your skill as a teacher, Lady Dimitrescu had never bothered to consider you more than another servant. This night was about Daniela. About your secret girlfriend, the brightest star in all the skies. That is not something that bothers you, nor does it surprise you. All that makes you wish to weep is the desire to kiss her. To sweep her into your arms, with celebratory kisses, singing her name as a praise to higher powers. In the end, it takes several minutes for Daniela to pull away enough to move back to you, and even then she cannot give you the reaction she yearns for.

“I’ll come by to talk to you tonight, I promise,” she whispers, as she gives you the weakest hug you have ever felt. Then she is returning to her family, clinging to her mother with a massive grin. Soon enough you are left alone on stage, quiet surrounding you, mixed feelings gnawing at the pit of your stomach. Something feels… wrong. You cannot put a name to it. No one has hinted to you what your beloved has planned, for none but her even have a clue. As soon as she is alone with her mother, as soon as she has the smallest sliver of an opportunity, she knows what she must do. “Mother… we need to talk. I... I have a confession to make.”

[crash-cinematic-universe]

tiger lilies, self destructing, and richard siken

pairing: peter maximoff/reader

summary: to peter maximoff, love is an anomaly that scares him more than anything else. however, you might be able to help him overcome his fear.

warnings: language! but that’s about it. kind of cheesy at some points but yknow what im not lactose intolerant

notes: this is the monsterous fic thats been kicking my ass this past week (6.2k words babey!!!) i was originally going to add ~~steamy~~ section to this one but i decided against it to make it readable for those who don’t wanna see that kind of stuff. if you want me to separately publish that then just lmk!!  (if any of yall wanna talk about richard siken to me then please do, his work is so good)

taglist: @stranger-names ,  @gooseyhouse , @parkersdarling​ 

1. 

To Peter Maximoff, physical affection has always been a touchy subject-- no pun intended. His speed is a blessing, but also a bitter curse. He moves at the speed of sound, bouncing off the walls and tearing up the roads; he moves impossibly fast, and no one ever tries to catch up with him. People get tired of Peter rather quickly, not bothering to get attached to him when they know they can’t keep up. 

That’s why it’s so jarringly startling when you decide to stick around. When faced with the grand decision of throwing in the towel and leaving Peter behind or sticking around and trying your best, you chose the latter. It was surprising, to say the least. Peter waited patiently for the distance between the two of you to start growing; he waited for the void you once filled to open up again. However, the void never emptied, and the distance never grew. 

To anyone else, this would be a wonderful experience. Knowing that you wouldn’t be left behind or forgotten about would be comforting to anyone else in Peter’s position. However, this did the exact opposite for Peter. He wasn’t comforted or relaxed, on the contrary, he was always on edge. The future was cruel, and the mystery of it all felt like torture. 

To quote the great Richard Silken, “Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” Peter lived and breathed by this ideology, that everyone he loves would have to leave eventually, whether it be by their own volition or not. It was obvious that you didn’t plan on abandoning ship anytime soon, so Peter decided he’d take matters into his own hands. If you weren’t going to be the first one to walk away, then he’d be the one to run away from you. He soon came to learn that loneliness was at its most bitter when you’ve come to taste the sweetness of love. 

Love was a strange, complicated beast that Peter Maximoff had never dealt with before. If he were to be completely honest, love scared him. It scared him more than dying scared him. To Peter, death was an escape. Death was the end of a tiring journey, it was safe and simple and easy. Love was the opposite, it was the mouth of a dragon and the edge of a blade. It was the beginning to something so fragile and powerful, something that could end in flames. 

Peter realized he loved you on a summer afternoon. The sun was shining and you were in the shade. He sat down next to you, and within minutes Kurt and Ororo appeared at your side. They seemed so put together, so sure and strong. Peter felt out of place-- he felt as if he were standing outside of a cabin looking in through the window at your wonderful friendships. He watched with his nose pressed against the glass as you walked across the room and opened the cabin door to let him in. 

Peter realized he was in love with you in the middle of the night. A thunderstorm raged outside the mansion walls and raindrops kept time as Peter walked down the hallway. You were sitting on the floor of the common room next to a dying fire, a book clenched tightly in your hands. For a moment, he just stood against a wall and watched you. As creepy as he felt, a part of him believed he’d ruin your night by making himself known. He was okay with being a fly on the wall if it meant he’d get to see you. Peter wondered if there was a world where he had the pleasure of knowing you, without you having the burden of knowing him. 

Still, you saw him. And you knew him. And you waved him over with a smile. He felt the urge to run, to leave you here alone with yourself, but he stayed put. Then, one step at a time, he moved forward. He got closer and closer before he found himself standing at your feet. 

“You’re welcome to stay,” you told him. He believed it. Peter sat down next to you, letting his shoulder brush against yours.

“What’re you reading?” He asked. Peter already knew what you were reading, he read the cover of the book the moment he sat down, but he still wanted to hear it from you.

“Crush by Richard Siken,”

“Oh. What’s it about?” Peter already knew what it was about. He’d read it at least fifty times.

“It’s kind of hard to explain. I’d much rather just read it to you and let you decide for yourself,” Peter’s stupid little heart lurched, and he almost cried at the thought. He held it together, though. 

“That would be nice,” He said softly. 

“Sorry about all the writing in the margins, I can’t help myself sometimes.” Peter scanned the sides of the pages, marveling at your notes. Some of them were reactions, littered with exclamation points and question marks and bold letters. Some of them were underlined phrases and little doodles-- most notably a little drawing of a chameleon on a tiger lily. He loved them.

“It’s okay. Literature is meant to be marked up-- what’s the point of reading if you don’t get to share the love?”

“That’s a good point,” You grinned. Then, the reading began, and you allowed Peter to rest his head on your shoulder as you read to him. Even though he’d heard the poems a billion times by now, they sounded brand new coming from you. He listened closely. You were arriving at his favorite part, “You are Jeff” section 24. 

“You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you...” You read on, not noticing the way Peter’s eyes had shifted from the book you were holding to your face. Peter’s mind wanders, and he curses himself for missing the lines you were reading “... You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for.” 

Peter felt like he was going to cry. You kept reading and he kept looking. It was getting late, and Peter was getting tired. Your voice had softened and slowed, and the fire that was burning in the fireplace had all but died. Peter was the one that fell asleep first, and you followed closely after. Both of you had lingering smiles on your faces. 

2. 

Intimacy is an odd thing, isn’t it? Thinking critically, intimacy is just vulnerability with more layers. It’s the closeness between people, it’s allowing yourself to connect with someone you care about. It’s stripping yourself down to muscle and bone and hoping the other person doesn’t let you bleed out. It’s a level of trust that is more than closing your eyes and falling backwards; it’s closing your eyes and letting them push you over the edge into the unknown, and trusting them enough to know you’ll be okay when you hit the ground.

It didn’t take long for Peter to realize that he had trouble with being intimate with other people. Too many times had trusted someone to push him over the edge, only to realize he’d be shattered when he hits the ground. After that, he decided intimacy was overrated. It’s not like anyone was going to have that kind of relationship with him, anyway. 

Of course, then you came along and uprooted his entire worldview, like you had with everything else. He found himself thinking about you at every waking moment, which inevitably led to him… thinking about you at every waking moment, if you catch my drift. Sure, intimacy involves more than just physical intimacy, but Peter knows he can’t ignore the feeling that rises in his stomach whenever he’s around you. For the first year or so of your relationship, Peter became very familiar with the feeling of an ice-cold shower. 

What Peter didn’t take into consideration was you. For some reason, Peter struggled to understand the fact that you were just as attracted to him as he was attracted to you. It was no secret that Peter was insecure, but he never really realized how much his insecurity affected his relationships. If he couldn’t love himself, how could anyone else? Peter is the only one who gets to see his persona in its truest form, and every time he has to avert his eyes. It’s safe to say his physical appearance has been the cause of very many painful-- and occasionally tear-filled-- sleepless nights. 

He told you this. He told you everything. He told you about Erik, he told you about his childhood, he told you about everything he loved and hated and feared and yearned for. That ordeal alone was scary enough, knowing that at any moment you could decide you didn’t want to deal with him anymore, but as always, you stuck around. You told him everything. You told him about your family and your struggles. You told him about everything you loved and hated and feared and yearned for, and not once did Peter even think that he wanted to walk away. This is the kind of intimacy that, over the years, Peter had struggled with less and less.

Still, it was the sexual aspect of intimacy that freaked him out. It was a beast he’d never dealt with, a feat he’d never faced. That being said, as every day went by Peter became more and more… frustrated. He didn’t know how to approach the subject, so he'd just let the subject approach him and wing it. 

And as he sat on his bed watching as you twirled around to Tears for Fears “Everybody Wants To Rule The World”, Peter realized he didn’t have much to worry about. 

“Dance with me, dollface,” you laughed, reaching out for him. You looked like someone straight out of a movie, the lim blue light coming from Peter’s arcade machines illuminating a halo above your head. You put Molly Ringwald and Emilio Estevez to shame. Peter took your hand, grinning like an idiot as you twirled him around. 

There he was, dancing in his mother’s basement with his favorite person in the entire world. He wasn’t a great dancer, and neither were you, but that didn’t matter. Peter was dreading this visit-- he hated the idea of being back in the basement that made him feel like a failure. But you assured him that you’d be there with him, and that getting to see his family would make it all worth it. His family isn’t what made it worth it, though. 

“Brain Damage” by Pink Floyd came next, slower and a bit more somber, but still danceable. Your arms shifted to around his neck, pulling him closer than he already was. Somehow, you ended up with your back against the wall as the song came to a close. He kissed your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips.

“I love you,” Peter spoke softly. This was a small victory-- he’d been so scared of the mere idea of loving someone. You were the only one who got to hear his love confessions. They were for you, and for you only.

“I love you too,” Peter would never, ever get tired of hearing that. Knowing that you love him is enough to keep him going for a hundred years. And he knows the odds, he knows that love is rocky and painful as much as it is beautiful. He knows that love can feel sweet in the beginning and go sour overtime. He knows that first, second, third relationships don’t always work out. But he thinks this is going to work out. And Peter doesn’t think this will ever go sour. Maybe that’s his blissful ignorance talking, maybe he’s jinxing it, but at this moment, he doesn’t care. Right now he is at his happiest, at his most content. 

“You wanna watch a movie?” You asked softly, pecking Peter on the cheek. He could feel the warmth radiating off of you, and Peter grinned. In an instant the tv across the room began playing the opening credits to the first movie that popped into his head. 

“The Breakfast Club?” You questioned. Peter shrugged.

“What can I say, I’m a sucker for a good coming-of-age kind of movie,”

You sat against the headboard of Peter’s bed, allowing Peter to settle beside you. Your head rested on his shoulder, and he was quick to grab your hand. Peter loved the closeness. Over the past year, he’d come to realize he was a very affectionate person. Previously, Peter hadn’t known soft, physical love; the only time anyone would ever touch him would be as punishment or defense, not love. Love. Peter had gotten more comfortable with the idea of love, because when he thinks of love he thinks of you.

3. 

Every good story has a villain. A villain that you love to hate, or hate to love. A villain you can sympathize with, a villain you can’t excuse, a villain that the mere mention of makes you sick to your stomach. An unexpected villain. An obvious villain. A villain that’s just trying his goddamn best. Sometimes the villain is defeated, sometimes the villain changes their evil ways. Sometimes the villain dies and the crowd cheers. 

Peter Maximoff never thought he’d be the villain of his own story. He tried his hardest to be a good person, but there was always that side of him that made him afraid. He was like an explosive; whenever someone got too close, he’d detonate and destroy everything around him. It was a self-defense tactic, albeit counterproductive. 

It killed you to see him that way. He told you about the relationships he’d lost to himself. He told you about the abandonment and the loneliness. It broke your heart. He tried to distract himself, drowning himself in work so he’d never have the opportunity to ruin what he had with you. Peter Maximoff was a walnut tree; every time he planted his roots and began to grow, he’d kill anything that grew too close. However, the constant working started to wear Peter down.

It started with the late nights. He’d collapse next to you at four AM, knocking out the minute his head hit the pillow. Still, he’d be awake before you were, already scrambling around trying to complete various tasks. He was like a machine that was running from it’s problems. The late nights turned to all-nighters, and the few hours Peter managed to salvage set aside for sleep had shrunk to a few minutes at a time. He didn’t eat anything with even a hint of nutritional value. At this rate, he was going to work himself to death. 

The worst part? Peter knew what he was doing. He wasn’t stupid. He just needed to shut up the little voice in his head that urged him to act out. The entirety of his childhood, Peter destroyed what he created. The need to be isolated, the feeling that he deserves to be alone spread throughout his body like a cancer. He locked himself away in the basement, trying desperately to stay out of everyone’s way so they wouldn’t shut him out. People tried to coerce him out of his cave, to pull him out of the bottomless pit he threw himself into. Peter saw them as the sirens trying to lure him into the ocean of loneliness, and he wasn’t going to fall for it. In his eyes, anyone who tried to help him were the villains of his amazing, heroic tale. Fortunately for him, one by one, they started to give up on helping him. They thought he was a lost cause; a fucking loser who was destined to wallow in his own self-pity until he died. At first, this was a triumph. He defeated them, he outwitted the sphinx and slayed the dragon. But a part of him hated himself for becoming the worst-case scenario that every parent feared their child would grow up to be. 

He pulled himself out of his pit and back onto his feet, all by himself. It was hell on Earth, but he did it. That cancerous feeling of uselessness retracted back into itself, now residing in the place next to Peter’s heart. However, that horrifying fear of becoming a burden began to grow again, this time when Peter was in his mid-20s. He began to overcompensate, and that led him to where he was; always on the brink of collapse, running on nothing but coffee and twenty minutes of sleep. In return, Peter got to have friends. In his mind, that was fair. In your mind? Not even close.

You managed to catch him in his bedroom as he was in the midst of simultaneously scribbling in a notebook and reading an open novel. Peter Maximoff would always be the most beautiful person in the world in your eyes, but at that moment, he looked like hell. Your plan seemed foolproof, but then again, you weren’t sure what you were walking into. Lately, Peter didn’t seem like himself. Probably because of the lack of sleep. 

“Peter?” He looked up at you, eyes half-lidded. “I got you something.”

“You did?” A sleepy smile was all he could muster, but that was google enough for you.  

“I did. It’s to mark exactly three years since I first met you,” you sat down on his bed, placing the small wrapped book right next to you. Peter glanced at the calendar on the wall-- oh god, you were right. It’s been three years to the day and he forgot. He deserves the title of “World’s Worst Boyfriend”. Scott will probably be upset that he’s losing his title.

 “What’re you up to?”

“Finishing up some old work I’ve been putting off,” he punctuated his sentence with a yawn. “Some of my old work and some of Hank’s, too.” “Why are you doing Hank’s work?”

“He seemed stressed about something, thought I might help clear his head,” The sentiment is sweet, you’ll give him that.

“Alright, well, can we talk for a minute?” Alarm bells went off in Peter’s brain. There has never, in the history of the universe, been a good conversation that started with ‘can we talk for a minute?’ or any of it’s cruel variants. 

“Actually, I’m kind of busy right now, can this wait?” It was obvious that the answer to that was no, but still, he felt the need to ask. 

“Not really, no. It’s important.” Peter saw the next few seconds playing out in his head. The inevitable had come to fruition; you realized that you could do better, and now you were cutting him loose. He couldn’t blame you, not really, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t going to rip him to shreds. He realized that whatever you brought for him was most likely a parting gift. How sweet.

“Oh. Alright.” 

“Well, I’m going to give it to you straight,” you sighed. “I’m worried about you, Peter.”

Oh. He’s heard this speech before, he knows the spiel. He can vaguely recall a guidance counselor telling him the exact same thing before Peter decided to call him a slew of expletives. The tar pit in his chest began to grow.

“I’m fine.” This was a lie. The first lie in a long chain of lies that Peter was about to tell to you, his favorite person in the world. He loved you, but in that moment his vision clouded over. You weren’t the person he loved and cherished anymore, no, you were just another faceless blur that provided a temporary escape. 

“Really? I feel like you’re pushing everyone away, you’re pushing me away.” Peter was becoming more and more irritated by the second.

“I told you, I’m fine. I’m not pushing you away. 

“Don’t lie to me,” your voice is firm and unwavering. “You don’t sleep, you almost never eat-- I don’t think I’ve seen you stand still for more than three minutes once in the past month--”

“That’s just how I am,” Peter huffs. He wanted this conversation to be over. “That’s not your problem.”

“Your wellbeing is my problem, Peter, that’s the whole point of being friends with someone. Even more so now, because you’re my partner and I care about you--” 

“Then stop,” Peter rolled his eyes. He's more irritable than normal-- most likely because he hasn’t slept in days. He could almost feel the venomous arms of isolation creeping around him. It’s a sick pattern, he knows; every time someone gets close to him, he feels the need to self-destruct before they lose interest. Even now, even after all this time, Peter’s still powerless against the poison in his veins. 

“What?” You’re losing your reserve and your stature. He can tell. You’re slouching and picking at the cuticles on your thumb. It’s almost as if he’s been shoved into the back seat, and is now being forced to watch as a stranger takes the wheel and crashes the car. So much frustration, so much hurt, and it’s all coming out right now, onto you. Peter already regrets this entire interaction, but still, he manages to spit acid. 

“Stop caring. Just leave, I know you want to. I know every night, you lie awake and think about all the different ways you can leave me in the dust. Not that it would matter to me.” This is another lie. Your eyes flash with hurt, but you stay put. You know he’s just being an asshole because he’s exhausted and too stubborn to admit that you’re right. He’s egging you on intentionally, trying to get you to snap and walk away. 

 “Peter, god, I love you but sometimes you can be so...”

“So what? C’mon, be honest with me,” He huffed. 

“Frustrating,” You surrendered. The poise you once held was gone. “I know it isn’t your fault-- I know you’ve trusted so many people so deeply and been betrayed or sold out and I know you’ve loved so many times and been thrown to the curb without a second thought. But I don’t know what I can do to convince you that I’m here for you, and that I love you. I’ve tried everything, and it feels like I’m talking to a brick wall. I want to make this work, but I need you to work with me.” It’s evident in your voice that you’re desperate. You’re just hoping you’ll get through to him, somehow. “I need you to want it as bad as I do-- hell, I need you to want it at all.” Here it comes--

“You ever think, maybe, I just don’t want you to be that person for me? I’ve spent my life being independent, my entire existence so far has been built around the fact that I’m going to end up alone. People come and people go-- people like you and Charles-- and they tell me they care. They tell me that they love me and that they're here for me. And then they get tired of me and they leave. I wish that you would just leave me the fuck alone and let me live in solitude,” There it was. The lie to end all lies. The words tasted awful coming out of his mouth, and the whole ordeal left his mouth tasting very… sour. Peter had to look away, he couldn’t look at the expression on your face.

“Fine. If that’s what you want.” Your eyes never met his, but you paused before you exited the room. “I know you’re probably just… I don’t know, going through something, but you’re being an asshole. Don’t talk to me until you’ve sorted your shit out. Enjoy your solitude.” You left the room impossibly fast, your fists clenched so tightly Peter feared that your nails would break the skin on your palms. He struggled to keep it together-- why the fuck did he do that? 

Peter collapsed onto his bed, and it’s only then that he realized you left behind the gift you got him. A part of him thought he should return it to you, but the other part of him urged for it to be opened. He tore the wrapping paper off before he realized what he was doing. The hardcover book the wrapping paper concealed was handbound, the cover littered with your beautifully familiar handwriting. In big, bold letters The Best of Poetry in the Humble Opinion of Y/n L/n was scrawled at the top. 

Peter vividly remembers a late night you spent talking to him. You told him about your favorite poems, outlining each and every little detail you loved about them. Some of them he’d read already, some of them he hadn’t, but all of them sounded like artwork coming from you. He opened the front cover, and you’d written something else on the inside. 

“In the words of the wonderful Peter Maximoff, ‘What’s the point of reading if you don’t get to share the love?’. This is me, sharing the love.” 

Carefully, Peter opened to a random page in the book. He saw the notes in the margins and the doodles and the exclamation points and before he knew it Peter was on the verge of tears. He was barely containing himself, and then he read a specific annotation you made. 

He had opened to the first page of “The Worm King’s Lullaby”, one of your all-time favorites. A specific line was underlined, one that Peter was all too familiar with: “Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” Beside it, you wrote:

“As much of a genius Mr. Siken is, I have to disagree with this. If you love someone enough, you’ll never leave them and they’ll never leave you. Even if they die, even if things don’t work out, you’ll always have a little part of them to carry with you. Carry this part of me with you, Peter. Not that I plan on leaving anytime soon.” 

That was it. The floodgates broke. Everything that Peter had held back came pouring out-- the past 10 minutes finally caught up with him, and they hit him like a bus. He sat in the corner of his bedroom, his knees pulled up to his chest so tightly he thought his legs would snap. Peter wanted to rip all his hair out or punch a hole in the wall or hold his head underwater until he was nothing but an obituary and a headstone. His chest burned and the pit of despair inside his chest had overtaken his system, and he hated himself with a burning passion. Why did he do that? Why did he do that? Why the fuck did he do that?

Peter Maximoff had his breakdown in solitude, revealing in the fact that he was, undeniably, the villain of his own life.

4.

As it turns out, ‘getting his shit together’ is much harder than Peter originally anticipated. He's trying, he really is, but it's hard. Especially without you there. Peter knows that he fucked up, and he knows that he needs to work for your forgiveness. And don’t worry, he’s going to work for it. 

It had only been a week, but the entire mansion could tell that something was off. Life just wasn’t the same without the randomized gusts of wind that would knock people off their feet; no one had been seriously injured or had something stolen from them. The whirlwind that was mansion life, while still chaotic, lost it’s fun. 

Charles tried to keep things running smoothly, but he was an old man and didn’t exactly understand you and Peter. People would knock on your door every now and then, but you didn’t answer. You were much too busy analyzing exactly how much of a bitch you were being-- realistically, the answer is 0%, but you didn’t see it that way. No, from your perspective, you saw Peter having a mental breakdown and you ditched him. Pretty shitty move.

What you didn’t realize was that Peter was doing the exact same thing, however, the blame falls mostly on his shoulders, and boy does he know it. He’s been scripting his grand apology, trying desperately to find the right words to express exactly how sorry he is. Peter was never very good with words-- it’s always too hard to know if you’re going to say the wrong thing and mess everything up. Although, it’s hard to see how the scenario could get any worse.

He made the executive decision to start with “I’m sorry”-- a solid start to any apology. Sure, he could stop there, but Peter realized that he’d probably need more to win back his partner. So, he managed to scribble down a few more lines on a tiny notecard he was supposed to use for studying. Oh, what a wondrous redemption arc this would be; Peter gets into a fight with his wonderful partner and ruins their relationship and then struggles to come up with a coherent apology. 

“I’m sorry about what I said, that was shitty. I shouldn’t have said that.” Peter’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration. God, he was going to die alone, wasn’t he? Maybe this is the cruel punishment the world is dealing to him, the universe is deciding that Peter’s redemption arc would be better if it, well, didn’t exist. Even so, he isn’t planning on giving up or giving in just yet. 

He scrapped what he had so far and started at the beginning once again. His 9th grade english teacher would tell him to write about what he knows, and though he doesn’t know much, he’s an expert when it comes to himself. Peter knows how he feels about you, he knows how sorry he is, and he knows that he really, really, really wants you to know that he didn’t mean a word he said about not wanting you. Peter knows about love, at least a little bit, and he realizes he’ll need more than just words.  

His mind drifts to that night, years ago, in front of the fireplace. He vividly remembers a tiger lily and a chameleon scribbled in the margins of your book. Realistically, Peter couldn’t get his hands on a chameleon, but a tiger lily was a different story. In high school, Peter took a botany course because he thought it’d be easy. It wasn’t, it was boring as all hell, but it seems like his slacking paid off. He knew tiger lilies were indigenous to Asia, but they’d become quite common along New England-area roadways. 

Peter grabbed his jacket and took off, tearing through the roads like his life depended on it. In less than 10 minutes, Peter found himself in the middle of New Hampshire drenched in rain. In hindsight, he probably should’ve checked the weather before leaving. Nevertheless, he takes off into the small wooded area that laid passed the road’s end. Dozens of mushrooms dotted the muddy ground and mossy rocks clouded his peripheral vision. The rain begins to lighten as he spots a bright orange tiger lily peeking through the remains of a tree stump. He sprints over to it.

The tiger lily is bloomed and beautiful and Peter can’t tear his eyes away from the wide array of speckles and splotches and color. It’s pristine, but some of the petals are torn or wilting. The roots stretch into the stump below it, and Peter leans closer. The stump is old and worn, fungi and bugs eat away at the base next to a large hole where a family of worms reside. The stump is ugly, sure, but it’s useful. It helps keep the bugs fed and keeps the worms warm. There’s a metaphor here somewhere, but Peter is too distracted to find it. 

He gently picks the flower and spins on his heel, taking off once again. The rain makes it harder to run, but it’ll take a lot more than water to stop Peter. By the time Peter gets back to Xavier’s the flower is a little crushed, but it’s still somewhat pristine. 

He has the flower, he has the apology, and now all he needs is courage. Thankfully, that courage comes quickly as he instinctively knocks on your bedroom door. He probably should’ve stopped to collect himself, but he was riding a wave of adrenaline that wouldn’t come back. 

“Go away, Jean,” You called from inside. You sounded tired, and it made Peter sad. 

“It’s-- uh-- it’s not Jean,” Peter can hear your hesitant footsteps approaching the door, and suddenly the courage he managed to build up drained. His hands are shaking by the time you open the door. You look up at him, and Peter looks back at you, and suddenly everything is much harder to do. He looks down at his feet. 

“Hi.” Your voice is hoarse, but clear. 

“Hi.” Peter’s voice is uneven and quiet. You stand there in silence for a minute before Peter pipes up again.

“So, uh, you’re probably still mad at me and I get that, but I just want you to hear me out. I-If that’s okay,” You nod slowly, and Peter takes a deep breath. He thinks about the written apology that sat in his coat pocket, and he makes the last-minute decision to forget about it. He’ll speak from the heart, or, whatever people in rom-coms do. 

“I’m sorry. It was really shitty of me to get angry at you because you were worried about me-- although, I guess shitty is an understatement. Everything that I said about, yknow, not wanting you or Charles or anyone else around anymore wasn’t true. I need you guys, and I love you guys and it was unfair of me to push you away. Solitude really sucks. I guess I’m just not very good at navigating relationships,” He exhales, and his chest shudders. “I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore, I just thought I should make it clear how I feel.” It’s only then that he remembers about the tiger lily in his hand. “Oh, and this is for you.”

“A tiger lily?” you smiled softly. “These are my favorite-- how did you know?”

“I’m just observant, I guess. You usually draw them when you’re bored, I figured you’d like to see one in person,” You gently took the tiger lily in your hand. The silence that hung in the air was deafening, and Peter realized that was probably a bad sign. His chest drops just a bit, and he takes a small step backwards.

“I guess I should probably leave you alone--” Peter can’t get very far, because you immediately jump forward and wrap your arms around him. Eyes wide and heart pounding, you can feel Peter’s arms lock around your waist. 

“Thank you,” You whispered. “Please don’t go.” Peter was smiling so hard his cheeks ached, and a horrible weight had been lifted off his shoulders. The close-contact was refreshing; he didn’t realize how much he missed it until that moment. He was pretty sure he would never, ever let you go. Not again.

5.

To Peter Maximoff, physical affection has always been a touchy subject-- that is, until you came along. You proved to him that he deserved physical affection, that his mutation and his personality and weirdo quirks didn’t make him lesser or unlovable. Peter Maximoff deserved love, and you were the one who never failed to love him. 

You sat on a wooden chair in front of the fireplace, reading to the group of children sitting at your feet. The emotional lines of “Snow and Dirty Rain” fell from your lips, and with every turning syllable the small group would listen just a little bit closer. Peter did, too, desperately trying to hear every single word you said. Class was almost over, and once the students were dismissed you’d probably stop reading.

“I made this place for you. A place for you to love me. If this isn't a kingdom then I don't know what is,” Your eyes tore away from the page to look at the kids at your feet. They fell upon Peter, and a smile erupted on your face. 

Peter vaguely recalls the twisted idea of love that he held as a teenager. He thought love was a dragon to be defeated, a battle that could be won or lost. It’s clear now that love is the opposite-- it isn’t a fight or a battle or a thing to be conquered. It’s more like a flower; it needs to be cherished and cared for in order to grow. Sometimes the flower wilts and dies, and that’s natural, but sometimes the flower lasts for a lifetime. 

Love wasn’t a dragon or a knight, it didn’t have a hero or a villain; it was much more like a tiger lily and a tree stump.

[definitionsfading]

ineffable babies ficlet: eviction notice

safe for work, soft as hell! wrote this as a little warm-up thingy for a discord server group; keeping it here so I don’t have to scare the life out of anybody with pregnancy content warnings on twitter lol  + + + + +  “Oh—for heaven’s sake,” Aziraphale grunts, making an odd face as he throws his book back against one shoulder, peering down at his belly over the tops of his reading glasses. “My goodness, oof.” 

“Wossat?” Crowley mumbles as he comes up off his pillow with a lurch, blinking with squinty eyes and his hair going off in every direction. “You good, angel?”

“I’m fine, darling, I’m just—oh! Now see here, they’re really keen on having themselves a ball in there tonight.” 

Aziraphale abandons his book with a huff and reaches down to pull up his pyjama top, showing off the particular taut roundness of twins ready to burst out at any given moment. Thirty-eight weeks are up, eviction notice is imminent, and Crowley watches as Aziraphale’s belly visibly moves and dips as the babies tumble around each other inside. 

“Gosh, they’re really going at it in there,” he snorts, leaning closer as the curve of a knee or shoulder slides from Aziraphale’s navel downward, and then a tiny footprint presses outward from within. “Greco-Roman wrestling already, nude and all. Couple of traditionalists at heart.” 

“Certainly not doing the kind of wrestling you and I ever entertained,” Aziraphale tuts, quirking a meaningful eyebrow down at his husband. He watches then, too, as Crowley reaches up and presses two fingers to the delicate shape of that impossibly small foot, still tinier than the length of his thumb. 

“Talk to them, dear,” Aziraphale murmurs, as the babies finally go still for a moment. He reaches down and brushes his fingers along the pale inside of Crowley’s wrist, touch gone delicate in light of the peculiar stillness of their bedroom, gossamer and dove-soft at the edges. “They love listening to you.”

Crowley’s face screws up a bit but he doesn’t hesitate, shifting around a bit on the creaking bed until he’s facing Aziraphale’s belly. He kisses the shape of that tiny foot and the pale stretch mark above it, and this time the baby moves, sliding an inch sideways but not yet pulling away. 

 “You’re giving your Papa a rough go of it, y’know,” Crowley says, tiptoeing his fingers up the darker line on Aziraphale’s middle from the waistband of his shorts. “Be plumb well overcooked soon, huddled up in there like a couple of vagrants. I know it’s tempting to shack up in a warm bed with full amenities on the house, but the world’s ready to meet you two, just as much as we are.”

 Aziraphale’s mouth turns up into a sweet little smile, cheeks gone a bit pink. “Don’t make them feel poorly, Crowley,” he tuts, lashes lowered. “A few more days won’t hurt anything. I think I may even miss it when they’re not so close to me anymore.” 

Crowley makes a cheeky bark of a sound. “You’re already letting them play you for a sucker!” he says, golden eyes bright and happy even as Aziraphale goes to swat at his messy hair. 

“As if you won’t melt like sweetened butter in the little palms of their hands, you fiendish creature,” the angel says, narrowing his eyes. The babies move again, twisting around each other into a more comfortable position, the little foot finally moving away as they curl up together and go still. 

“Come up here so I can reprimand you properly for putting these heedless thoughts in our children's heads,” Aziraphale adds, even as he gently takes Crowley by the chin. “I’d come down there and pinch your bottom myself but I’m a bit stuck at the moment.” 

Crowley only snorts. “Oh, in that case,” he says, happily wriggling up the bed to curl up against Aziraphale’s side, one arm slung around his full moon of a belly. “Pinch away, angel. Most action I’ve had all week.”

Aziraphale’s hand does reach around to find the demon’s arse, but merely squeezes a generous handful and then rests there as they both breathe. 

“I’m glad they’ll have each other,” the angel whispers near Crowley’s temple. “If we never manage to have another, at least there’s that blessing.” 

“Yeah,” Crowley says quietly, smoothing his hand up to rest over Aziraphale’s chest this time, so he can feel the steady thump of a heartbeat beneath his ring and little finger. “Always better when you don’t have to go it alone.”

[strange-lace]

Son Adopts Father, More at 11

What up, I made a new AU, it’s called Inverted AU where everyone’s personalities are flip flopped while still having relatively the same story roles and originally was just for shenanigans but eventually got emotions, as all my AUs do. I’ll make a full post explaining it later, but here’s a little bit of how MK and Sun Wukong first met and the aftermath of that in this AU.

Enjoy!

Sun Wukong, the Monkey King, was certainly different from what MK expected, for both better and worse.

He wore robes that would fit a monk more than anything else, once bright, rich colored fabrics faded from the wear of time. Golden armor was layered over the clothing yet it didn’t take having an eye for fashion to see that they didn’t match well together. A familiar golden circlet curled around his head as if it’s always belonged there.

Strange fashion aside, the fact that Monkey King’s warm smile didn’t quite reach his tired eyes was enough to make MK decide right away.

Like Pigsy, Tang, Sandy, and Mei before him, the Monkey King… Sun Wukong was also one of MK’s.

After all, he had a habit to taking in the troubled, the broken, and the abandoned. He actively sought them out. Cared for them. Showed them how to care for themselves. Whether or not they chose to stay afterwards was no concern. As long as he knew they were going to be alright on their own without him there.

MK already knew that Sun Wukong was going to be one of the ones who stayed.

“Hello, little one. It’s a pleasure to finally get to meet you face to face.” MK only let out a slight huff as the monkey’s tail wrapped around his waist, picking him up off the ground and back to his feet without any visible effort. He thought with how much snacks he carried around in his backpack, he’d at least weigh something.

“What, you been following me? ...Now wait a hot second-” As soon as he said those words, the puzzle pieces began to click in his mind: the butterfly which he saw on Sandy’s boat and the strange bird which caused him to fall on Red Son, all with suspiciously similar colors and markings. “You have been following me!”

Wukong couldn’t help a slight chuckle at the realization on his face, restraining himself from full on belly laughing.

He was always holding himself back, nothing he wasn’t used to.

“Observant, aren’t you? Why I’d say you’re perfect, my boy.”

“What the hell are you on about, perfect for what?” He let out a squawk in surprise as he was suddenly lifted in the air by Wukong.

“Why to be my successor, of course!”

Silence. MK took in a deep breath, rubbing his temples before he finally found the words to speak.

“You know what? Fine! This is fine, considering how absolutely insane the rest of my day has been! I’ll be your successor, need to beat DBK’s ass anyway before he lays waste to the city. But on one condition.”

“And what might that be, young one?”

“You’re gonna be my dad now.” MK could see the mental equivalent of a record scratching in Wukong’s head at his demand. It was his turn to find amusement in being able to leave an immortal being far older than him floundering and confused for a good few minutes.

“I’m sorry?”

“Nah, you’re fine. I have this thing where I like to take care of people who can’t care for themselves, though Pigsy calls it ‘people collecting’ but that’s besides the point. And I can tell you’re a mess, so you’re mine now. Welcome to the family motherfucker!”

And it wasn’t long after that that MK managed to drag Wukong off the mountain he’d isolated himself on for 500 years. With his newfound mentor as well as father’s advice, MK was able to retrieve his staff back from the Demon Bull family and in the aftermath of the battle, he introduced the Monkey King to his family while he stormed the kitchen to make them a meal.

Pigsy couldn’t help the quiet chuckle at the Monkey King being left in a complete daze.

“You’ll get used to it Mr. Sun. MK certainly has that effect on people.”

He certainly wouldn’t ever forget the scrappy teenager that stomped into his shop one day, noticing he was struggling a bit in running the place by himself and essentially hired himself as an assistant cook and delivery boy. Before Pigsy knew it, MK had made himself a home above the shop and had started calling him ‘Pop’ without any hesitation.

Tang nodded in agreement, trying his best to enjoy the moment of peace from the constant onslaught of work while the city recovered from the battle.

One moment, he was struggling to juggle all his books while stopping for some dinner at this new noodle shop he was recommended by his co-workers. During one of the few moments he could slow down and speak with them, of course. The next moment, MK had wrestled the books from him, sat him down, and had a fresh bowl of noodles with a cup of warm tea ready for him somehow. Noticing his books mentioning Journey to the West, he had been roped into a conversation about the lore of Sun Wukong that lasted for hours before Tang finally noticed how much time had passed. Even though he left in a rush, Tang found himself coming back and being welcomed by MK and Pigsy with the exact same order every time.

“Yeah, he just decides he likes you and before you know it, you’re a part of his family and he’s willing to do almost anything for you,” Mei explained, still not quite used to being in the presence of someone like Sun Wukong but doing her best to be polite.

She remembered what had been a rare walk outside her home into the city became her getting lost without her phone. Her distress must have been evident because MK had literally stopped his cart right beside the road, offering her a ride to someplace with a phone.

“Note for the future, don’t accept rides from complete strangers in the city. This one time is an exception but just don’t be stupid, okay?” His words were harsh but it made Mei think of the older brothers she watched on TV, who wanted to protect their younger siblings without making it obvious they cared.

Eventually she ended up like they all do, at Pigsy’s shop with a fresh bowl of noodles in front of her. She could never get rid of MK after that.

None of them can truly. And in full honesty, they wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sun Wukong was truly starting to realize just who he had chose as his successor and was all the more convinced he made a good choice.

Hopefully his master is proud, wherever he is now.

[annonymouslyblonde]

Where I Should Be

Fandom: PJO/HOO

Pairing: Percy x Annabeth

Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff

Summary: Set during Mark of Athena the night of the day they found Percy. What if the stable scene wasn't the first moment alone Percy and Annabeth had? While I love the stable scene, Annabeth just isn't patient enough to have waited that long to catch up with Percy. My take on an additional scene for MoA.

A/N: Everything follows canon for HOO other than the fact we don't have a consistent timeline on the amount of time Percy was missing. So bare with me. My headcannon is that for Percy, it was a few months (thanks to his Hera induced nap), but for Annabeth, he's been missing eight months now.

The slight creak of the door woke Percy. After four years of fighting monsters and Lupa's training, he had learned to sleep lightly. Before the door could close, Riptide was uncapped and at the intruder's throat.

A sharp gasp came shortly before the person hissed, "Percy, it's me!"

Annabeth. Of course, it was only Annabeth. Percy sheepishly lowered his sword. Nothing said "I've missed you the last eight months" like a sword to the throat. Then again, she had judo flipped him, hadn't she? Seemed fair enough.

"I thought you were a monster!" he whispered harshly in defense of his actions, but Annabeth leveled him with a signature glare.

"A monster quietly making it past Jason on guard and opening your bedroom door instead of exploding it?"

His cheeks flamed with embarrassment. Hearing it aloud especially from Annabeth did make it seem pretty ridiculous.

"I was half asleep, and stranger things have happened. Besides I wasn't exactly expecting anyone tonight."

Annabeth looked away from him distracted, half asleep herself. She was barefoot and clad in her favorite worn flannel pants and a camp half-blood sweatshirt of his that was definitely too big for her.

"You're right, I'm sorry," she admitted quietly. "I just- I shouldn't have come, it's stupid. Go back to bed, Percy." She started to turn for the door when he dropped his sword completely to reach for her.

"Hey, don't."

He turned her back to him. In the light of Riptide, tear tracts stood out on her cheeks, and her eyes were red, puffy, and glassy like she may cry again any second. He gently stroked her cheek.

"You've been crying," Percy noted. She wiped angrily at her eyes trying to remove the evidence.

"Nightmares again?" he asked gently. Percy was always gentle with her when nightmares plagued her. Being vulnerable didn't come easy to Annabeth, and he felt honored she would trust him enough to show her vulnerable side.

When she confirmed his suspicions with a nod, Percy collected her in his arms and felt her sigh with relief. He remembered how awful the nightmares had been before at camp and when she'd stay at the apartment, even taken a few elbows as she fought them when she fell asleep during their movie nights. And now? A shudder cut through him trying to imagine how awful they must have been when he vanished. For him, it had only been a few months, but Annabeth had been looking for him nearly a year now not knowing what she may find on the other end.

He pressed a long kiss to her hair and asked, "Which one this time?"

Percy was familiar with most of them by now. Her mother and father rejecting her, blankets turning into spiders, standing at his funeral shroud in hand with everyone telling her he was gone, him accepting the offer of immortality and leaving her alone. And now he had actually left her alone at camp for eight months. The thought made his stomach turn.

"Same one I've had the last few months," she mumbled into his chest. "Every worst-case scenario. You not remembering me, not wanting to leave Camp Jupiter. Or not finding you at Camp Jupiter at all, that you'd never been there and we were completely wrong. Or worse." He knew the "or worse". Her biggest fear used to be abandonment and rejection, but now it had become more than that. The worse was finding him already dead.

"When I woke up, I just- I didn't trust my own mind that we really had found you. That you were really here. I thought I'd finally snapped. Today was probably the best scenario I could have thought up, and you know how it is for half-bloods. Things never go right."

He tightened his hold and stroked her tangled curls, burying his face in her shoulder. "Today they did. Right enough at least. I'm here. I'm with you where I should be."

"I'm so sorry, Percy," she sobbed into his shirt. "I'm sorry it took me so long to find you. I failed you epically."

"No, you didn't." He gently extracted himself taking her face in his hands and made her look at him. "That was all Hera. You did everything you could. I know you did."

"I can't help but feel like that's my fault too. After all, it is Hera," she spat the name out with a much venom as gorgon's blood. Somehow her voice could do that. One side sweet and comforting, another as deadly as poison. "She had to take you. Part of me feels like she took you to get back at me."

Percy couldn't help the chuckle. "Oh, I've done my share of angering that psycho goddess."

The pair stood for a moment in an extended silence. It wasn't enough to alleviate her guilt and he knew it. So he continued.

"It had to be me I think. Any other half-blood getting to California and through the wolf House with no memories? Even if I didn't know about it, I had Achilles' curse protecting me until I got to camp Jupiter. It saved me more than a couple of times."

"Until? You mean-" Her voice trailed off as her fingers grazed the spot at his lower back that he'd confided in her was his only weak spot. His stomach flipped at the gentle touch of her fingers in a way that had nothing to do with the weak spot he previously had.

"I had to give it up to enter Camp Jupiter," he explained. The realization donned on her.

"So when I flipped you earlier-"

"Oh yeah felt every bit of that, thanks. Probably bruised my back along with my ego," he teased. A thunk sounded as she hit her head on the door.

"I'm an idiot," she groaned. "Of course you couldn't carry a Grecian curse into a Roman camp. I'm sorry, Percy. I never meant to hurt you." Her hands skimmed his back hoping she hadn't hurt him too badly.

"I know you didn't, babe." Her heart flipped at the affectionate term. He didn't use that one often, usually when they were alone, but it did strange things to her whenever he did call her babe. It still felt surreal occasionally that they were together in that way. The days of them arguing on the way to LA didn't seem so far in the past.

"You were angry and scared and had every right to be after I disappeared like that. Besides you've done more damage in sparing practice. I'm fine."

She didn't say anything, choosing instead to wrap her arms around him again assuring herself he was really there. Soon, he felt her breathing even out against his neck, and she slumped heavily into him starting to fall asleep again. When he shuffled them towards the bed, she stirred making the task more difficult.

"Come on," he whispered into her nest of golden curls, loving the way she burrowed into his arms. "Lay down with me."

"Can't," she mumbled sleepily. "I shouldn't even be here. I need to go before we get caught."

"I think we've earned this for one night at least. It's been too long since I could hold you." His arms tightened around her, adding to his point. "I'll even set an alarm so you can sneak back before anyone is up. Better yet, where's your hat?"

"Stopped working," she spat out bitterly. "Only gift mom ever gave me, and apparently she kept the receipts. I don't wanna talk about it."

That concerned him. If Athena was taking things from Annabeth, what did that mean for the rest of them with their parents? Percy made them promise to be better with their kids, and here they were a few months later going back on their promises. Typical.

"You and your mom aren't talking again?"

"No one is talking. Olympus has gone silent except for Hera apparently." Bitterness crept back into her voice as the hurt and worry of the last several months tightened in her chest again. Before her mind could go too dark, the ship pitched suddenly sending them tumbling into his bed and Percy into a fit of laughter.

"See even the ship is telling you to stay."

She snorted and settled against him as he pulled a blanket around them. If the Fates seemed to be telling her to stay, then who was she to argue. Curled into his side, she took a deep, comforting breath of the salty air that seemed to follow him. The smell of the ocean, the smell of him, always calmed her now. Automatically, Percy ran his fingers through her hair. Well as much as he could considering it was a knotted mess.

"Speaking of moms though, your mom and Paul are doing well. They've been worried about you, but they're good."

"You went to see them?"

Distractedly, she drew Greek letters across his chest needing to keep her hands busy. Curse half-blood ADHD. It was always worse when she didn't sleep well, but Percy didn't mind. The light touch of her fingers dancing across his chest focused him. All he could think of was her. The smell of her shampoo. Her warm breath as she spoke to him. The feel of her securely wrapped in his arms. He never wanted to forget this again.

"I wanted to keep them informed and see if they heard from you," she answered having finally ordered her thoughts enough. "I've been going at least once a week when I'm at camp. Your mom's kept me sane the last eight months."

"She's pretty great like that. I tried to call her. I don't know if it helped or made things worse. I didn't really explain too well."

"It helped," she assured him with a squeeze. "She managed to forward it to me, and we must have spent an hour on the phone together listening to it. It was good just to hear your voice. And speaking of, you should call her in the morning. The camouflage on the ship will make it safe for a phone call."

"She's going to kill me when I get home," he groaned. Annabeth laughed into his chest. It was the best feeling in the world to hear that laugh again.

"Probably so, then she's going to hug you for a month straight. She wanted me to tell you she loves you and misses you. She never doubted I'd find you."

When Annabeth first came to tell Mr. and Mrs. Jackson-Blofis about Percy's disappearance, she made sure Sally knew she would do whatever it took to bring him home. The older woman merely nodded and smiled at the younger girl.

"Of course you will, dear. I have every faith in you." And she hugged her. Sally never once doubted Annabeth's ability. And later as Annabeth worried over the quest from her mom, it was Sally that held her hand reassuringly and told her everything would be alright. In the past eight months, Sally Jackson had become a rock to Annabeth, and she would never be able to thank the woman enough for that. The woman never doubted that she'd find the most important thing in both their lives.

"And she shouldn't have." Percy interrupted her thoughts, answering both her words and internal musings. "Because you are amazing."

Looking down at the girl curled against him, Percy couldn't help but finally feel at home. Emotions overwhelmed him fighting for dominance. Pride in her. Anger for being snatched away. Fear that it would happen again. Happiness to have her in his arms again. But one feeling was more powerful than the rest, and he needed to make sure she knew before anything else could happen.

"And I love you, Annabeth Chase."

She propped up on her elbows, staring at him dumbfounded. A long quiet moment passed before Percy broke the silence with a nervous laugh.

"Oh that's so sweet," he mimicked in a high voice. "But you know I'm not sure I feel that-"

She shut him up with a kiss. By now, they had kissed lots of times. There was Mt. St. Helen when she had surprised him with a kiss. Or the time they came back to camp high on the victory of defeating Kronos when they had kissed by the lake. And of course, the best underwater kiss ever which had become every underwater kiss since. But every time she kissed him, it made his stomach flip just like it was the first time all over again. When they finally parted, she leaned her forehead against his with a satisfied smirk.

"Of course I love you, seaweed brain. Think I'd have gone searching for eight months if I didn't?"

"I'd do it for you," he vowed, wrapping a ringlet around his finger. "I'd do anything for you."

"You're proving my point for me."

She smirked at him, and he took the moment to truly study her face. She was beautiful as always, but the deep, puffy rings under her eyes had definitely not been there before. Her cheekbones stood out sharper and he realized when he held her, she was thinner, gaunt even. He could feel each of her vertebrae when he ran his hand down her back. Her face was noticeably paler as well, and her hair lacked its normal shiny, glow. Overall, she pretty much looked like death warmed over. He traced the purple skin under her eyes.

"Gods, Annabeth, when's the last time you slept?"

She rolled her eyes at him. The first time he told her he loved her followed up with how tired she looked. Leave it to Percy Jackson to ruin a beautiful moment.

"Always the charmer, aren't you?"

"I mean it." The laugh in her throat died with his serious tone. Percy was seldom serious. "When's the last time you actually slept a full eight hours? And you haven't been eating well, I can tell. I know how you get when you stress."

Annabeth settled against his shoulder again, not able to bear the concern on his face. No, she hadn't taken great care of herself lately, and she didn't need Percy to remind her of that. Sally did enough of that commenting on the increasingly dark circles under her eyes, always insisting she stay for dinner, that she was getting too thin.

"I couldn't," she finally admitted in a small voice. It seemed pathetic to her now that she hadn't been able to take care of herself, but she lacked the will to without Percy. All of her focus has been on finding him.

"I had to find you. When I did sleep, I snuck into your cabin or fell asleep in your bed at the apartment." She paused waiting for his reaction. Would he be angry she snuck in there? Would he not like her sleeping in his beds while he'd been missing? But Percy just tightened his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her head. She released the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. It amazed her sometimes how Percy always seemed to know exactly what she needed.

"Being in there where it smelled like you, it was the only way I could actually get some sleep. Chiron had to know, but no one ever said anything."

Tears collected in her eyes, and she turned her face into his chest trying to stop them. Percy was the only person she ever let see her like this, weak and emotional. The only time she let herself break was in the seclusion of the Posidon cabin curled around his pillow.

"I missed you," she whispered hoarsely.

"I missed you too. The whole time, all I could think about was getting back to you. You kept me going, kept me alive."

"You mean you remembered me the whole time?" she asked incredulously. How could she have been the one thing he remembered? When Jason showed up, he hadn't remembered anything. It didn't make sense to her that Percy would remember anything, much less her.

"Yeah. Whether she meant to or not, you were the only thing Hera didn't take from me. The second I woke up, I didn't know my name, but I knew yours and knew I had to get back to you no matter what. More things came. The quests and all. That kiss under the lake. But it always came back to you. You're ingrained into who I am now, Annabeth. You were the reason I kept going because I knew I had to get back to you."

She leaned up pressing her lips to his again, tracing every inch of his face trying to memorize it. The kiss spoke everything they had struggled to say to each other. Her euphoric relief seeing him alive and well. His hope for a future with her in New Rome. The deep connection that had tied them together since they were twelve. Everything.

"I love you, Percy Jackson," she breathed against his lips, pouring every emotion she felt for him into the words. He grinned that lopsided smile she adored so much.

"I love you too, wise girl."

[buckyownsmylife]

Replaying - Jake Gyllenhaal/Reader (ft. Tom Holland) smut

The one where you share a night with Jake after Tom admits one of his kinks to you.

Warnings: cuckoldery, reader doesn’t think jake would respect her lack of consent, but she doesn’t actually safeword, so kinda dubcon?, you decide, definitely rough, use of the word whore, forced orgasms at some point, talk of anal

A/N: this is an one-shot depicting what happened between the reader and Jake like she told Tom about in in my fic “Do it”. I’d been meaning to write it ever since that first one came out, but a request gave me the push I needed to actually get this out. I’m very proud of this one.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

My heart was pounding against my chest as I made my way to Jake’s front door, hesitation for a bit before knocking. You’re doing this for Tom, you reminded yourself. He wants this. You’re not doing anything wrong. 

And as much as I kept repeating that to myself, those few seconds that took before Jake welcomed me into his home made me second guess everything, from what I was wearing to the strength of my relationship with my boyfriend. 

And God, I hated it. I hated it because I loved Tom, with every fiber of my being. I would never cheat on him, and I would never come close to doing anything like this if it weren’t for his admission of his own desires.

But now that it was here, out in the open, and *I was here, naked under Jake’s burning stare, I couldn’t deny that I wanted this. Fuck, I wanted this. And I was terrified of this feeling, terrified of what it could mean for my future with Tom.

I was going to do this, though. There was no doubt about it.

I thought Jake would try to ease me into this, offer me a glass of wine to settle my nerves or whatever, but the second his eyes met mine after they ran over my body, he pounced. “Fuck, I’ve been wanting you for so long.”

I moaned against his mouth as he dragged me through his house, his hands making quick work of my dress before manhandling me over his shoulder. The pure show of strength and animalistic behavior was enough to have me creaming my pants, and he must have noticed, if his chuckle was any indication.

“You’re such a horny little girl, aren’t you, sweetheart? There’s no way Tom knows how to treat you the way that you need to be treated. But that’s alright. I’m here now, and I’m gonna take good care of you.” As soon as he had me on the bed, he was all over me again, sucking bruises and leaving bite marks all over my skin. It was clear that he was the possessive type, and the fact that I was actually Tom’s didn’t really mean anything to him.

Little by little, he sucked a trail of lovebites from my neck, to my stomach, going over my chest, until he reached my underwear, where he finally stopped to look up at me. “I can’t wait to taste this little pussy.” In a second, I was completely nude before his eyes, and he rose to his feet to stare down at me, most likely reveling in the marks he had left me with.

The intensity of his gaze was so powerful that it intimidated me, forcing me to remember just exactly what I was doing, instead of simply losing myself in the moment, like I’d managed to do when I actually had his touch on me. So before I could even realize it, I was covering myself up, crossing my legs so he couldn’t really see the parts of me that he was interested in right now.

I don’t think Jake liked that. He raised an eyebrow, a hand covering the enormous bulge that had me salivating, probably in an effort to get some relief to his hardness, before he threatened, “Be a good girl and spread your legs for me, or you won’t like what I’ll do next. Tom has spoken so highly of you, I don’t think you want to disappoint me.”

I hesitated for a bit, but something in his eyes warned me not to get on his bad side. However, it seemed like I wasn’t quick enough to satisfy his wishes, because he pulled me by ankle to the edge of the bed, before turning me around until my head was hanging off of it.

“Fine. I know you want to be fucked like a whore anyway.” Without any sort of prelude whatsoever, he grabbed my cheeks, burying his fingers in the flesh to force me to pucker my lips, before feeding me his cock with his other hand. “Here, suck on this. I really want to hear you gagging around my cock.”

And that was all the preamble I got before he suffocated me with his dick, cutting off my breathing as he thrusted roughly in and out of my throat, directly. In no time at all, I was a mess of tears and spit, and while I was sure that the image couldn’t be all that attractive, still Jake didn’t seem to mind at all.

Jake’s P.O.V.

I don’t think I’d ever been this hard in my entire life. It meant that I was barely hanging on to my already diminished control, but who could really blame me when I had this fucking woman for me to do as I pleased?

When I finally pulled away to let her catch her breath, she coughed and sputtered desperately, hands trying to hold my hips so I would give her more time to breathe. “Please,” she babbled, voice hoarse and fucked out, immediately provoking a smug smirk to rise on my lips. “Please, be more gentle.”

I had to coo at how cute she was. Holding her hair back so I could run a single finger across her face, I buried it on her lips like I’d done with my cock before leaning over to remind her, “You’re mine tonight, princess. I’ll do whatever the fuck I want to you.” And then I pried her lips open, spitting in them before filling her mouth with my cock once more.

“Damn, all those times I thought about bending you over a table and fucking you right in front of your boyfriend, I have to say… I’m not even in your pussy yet and you’re already much better than I imagined.” I thrust in and out of her mouth a couple more times, relishing in the choking and the tears until I could feel my balls threatening to release inside of her warm mouth, and that simply wouldn’t do. The only place I’d be cumming tonight would be inside of her pussy.

So I allowed her some time to recollect as I slowly rounded the bed until I was standing in front of her pussy. “You know, you had a much harder time taking my cock in your mouth than I expected you to. I didn’t take Tom for having such a tiny cock.”

Even if I was exaggerating, I could see by the guilty look on her face that he was significantly smaller than me. It only added up to make me feel even hornier, that much more determined to give her the pounding of a lifetime.

“You did a good job sucking my cock, sweetheart. Now let me see this pussy.” Kneeling in front of my bed, I pulled her by her ankle so her legs were dangling off of it before I positioned her feet on the mattress, spreading her open to me. “Fuck yes. This is a pretty pussy.”

I was almost clinical in my exploration of her hole, starting by slowly running my fingers up and down her lips, making sure to spread her juices all over them before spitting on her cunt and spreading that all over the perfect sight. 

“Hmm, yes… You look delicious.” I leaned down to give both me and her a little teasing taste by very quickly running my tongue on her clit, but immediately had to come back for seconds.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Damn, you’re sweet.” I didn’t know what to do, it was impossible to figure out a way to behave properly while Jake fucking Gyllenhaal was lapping my pussy like it was his last meal on Earth. Every moan that escaped my lips felt like a betrayal to Tom, even though it didn’t make any sense.

“Stop that.” The man that right now seemed more animal than human called my attention with a loud slap over my weeping cunt, breaking the dam with which I had tried to contain my sounds of pleasure. “I want to know just how thoroughly I’m ruining you.”

I’d never make it out of here alive, I thought. At the very least, I knew I wouldn’t leave this bedroom the same woman I’d been once I stepped inside of it, but instead of fear, all I felt was the familiar rising wave of pleasure and the unknown curiosity of knowing more about this new version of me. The one that knew what it felt like to be touched by my boyfriend’s best friend.

A single finger penetrated me, the same systematic approach of exploration was applied as Jake slowly and carefully got to know my insides, looking for what made me tick and what helped him in his task to destroy me. When I clenched around his digit, I felt his grin against my pussy, his smugness at having found that sweet spot that was once only reserved for Tom and Tom only.

“Wanna see you cum now, pretty baby,” he teased, the vibrations of his words only adding to the efficacy of his plan. “Cum all over my fingers, angel. Want to see you breaking apart for me.”

The use of such sweet nicknames when I already knew he was nothing but a rough lover only added to the fire that had been lit in the pit of my stomach. The feeling of being powerless, abandoned in the hands of a man who didn’t seem to know mercy was what brought me to my first orgasm of the night. Flashbacks to just how out of breath I’d been only minutes before, the panic when I realized he wouldn’t pull back. For a moment,  I honestly didn’t know if he would respect my use of the safeword he and Tom had agreed upon beforehand, and that was the thought that brought me to a messy, relieving release.

“There you go. So sweet and wet, you dirty, dirty girl.” I knew I tried to respond and it only came out in some sort of broken sound, but I didn’t recognize it as a whine until I felt another slap over my pussy, startling me.

“Don’t whine,” he ordered, and I could see that dangerous glint in his eye that electrified to my very core. “Whiny babies get punished, angel. Do you want to be punished?” As much as the very thought of what Jake could have in store for me had my pussy clenching, I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle it, at least not tonight, not after the amount of anticipation that I’d built even before I walked into his house.

Jake’s P.O.V.

I smiled as she shook her head emphatically, arms and legs wrapping around my body as she tried to cling to me, stopping me from performing what she thought I intended to do. “No, no, please. I-I need you.”

Shit. Hearing her admit her desire for me had my cock twitching, precum undoubtedly starting to drip from the throbbing head. Still, I had enough control left in me to remember that I needed to prepare her first. I needed her to be ready for me, so I could truly give her the pleasure that she deserved.

“Not yet, sweetheart.” I forced another finger inside of her, groaning to myself at just how tight she felt, wanting to stretch her open with my cock, feel her struggling to take it, but knowing it wouldn’t be right. She hadn’t agreed to be mine, she wasn’t prepared to deal with everything I was as a lover.

“I need to open you up for me, yeah?” I was breathing hard, trying to restrain myself as I watched her pussy swallow my fingers eagerly, releasing more and more of her sweetness to help ease the stretch. “Have to make you cum again, baby. Can you do that for me?”

The sight of her shaking her head had anger rousing inside of me. Here I was struggling to make this easy on her, and she just couldn’t help me on that gradually more and more herculean task.

“Oh, but you are going to do just that. And you’re going to like it, *angel.” Deciding that the best way to get through this torture was to get her to cum quickly, with the added bonus that it would serve as a punishment too, I started to fuck her with my fingers faster and faster, making sure to curve my digits just right so I would hit that particular spot every damn time.

“Yes, see? This is what you get for misbehaving. You’re gonna cum all over my fingers, and you’re gonna pay for each damn time you made me want to have my cock inside this pretty little pussy and had to resort to fuck some other woman instead. “C’mon. You can’t pretend you don’t want to cum and keep moaning like a whore. Cum right now,” I urged her orgasm until I felt it, her channel clenching around my fingers and making me groan again.

I didn’t stop moving them though, instead opting to squeeze a third one, so I could finally have my cock inside of her in only a few seconds. “P-Please,” she started begging, tiny hands circling my wrist in an effort to pry me away from her, and I had to coo at how adorable she was.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You can handle one more. C’mon. It’ll be so worth it when I finally get my cock inside of you. I’m only doing this to help open you up, baby.” She was sobbing now, pretty body twisting and trying to get away from the pleasure that was clearly becoming too much for her.

Leaning down to cover her body with mine, I nibbled on her jaw before licking her slightly open lips. “Kiss me, Y/N. It’ll help distract you. Kiss me.” I probably didn’t need to repeat it, because as soon as I finished breathing out the words, her lips were on mine, hands losing themselves in my locks in an effort to leave me be inside of her pussy.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I immersed myself in his kiss, desperate to find something to distract me from the incessant dragging of his fingers against my walls, the squelching sounds of my sopping wetness simultaneously embarrassing and arousing me. Damn him and his sexual appeal. It didn’t take him long at all to have me trembling because of his three fingers, desperate to cum yet again.

“See? I knew you could handle it.” There was a smug smirk on his face that I wanted to wipe, but the only way I could do that now was by kissing him again. I had no idea how he knew my body that well, despite never having touched it again. Not even I believed I was able to cum another time, and still, here I was eager to finally have his member inside of me.

At long last, his fingers came out, being promptly wrapped by his beautiful lips before he looked down at me with that same stupid smirk. “Are you ready, pretty girl?” I could only nod, watching enraptured as he slowly jerked off to the sight of my already ruined body, but I should have known that wouldn’t be enough.

“Say it,” he ordered, knowing fully well exactly how wrecked I was. “Say you want my cock inside of your pretty little pussy.” I stopped a whine just before it managed to erupt from my chest, panting wildly as I stared up at this dark angel that looked so determined to destroy me for anyone else.

“I want you inside of me,” I murmured, instantly knowing it still wouldn’t be enough. He was rubbing the head of his member over my dripping lower lips, and at the sound of my compliance, a slap echoed around the room, leaving my thigh tingling - surely with a hand-shaped bruise behind.

“Louder.” My cunted pulsed with the need to be filled, so much so that it didn’t take any time at all to get me to repeat the same words I’d just uttered, in a louder, much more desperate tone. My reward was immediate. Jake filled me slowly but surely, only stopping once he had completely bottomed out inside of me, and I had to focus on my own breathing or I was sure I’d forget to inhale and exhale as I struggled to accept his cock in my already stretched out hole. 

He was right. I would never have been able to take his cock if he hadn’t taken the time to ease me, opening me up with his fingers. The comparison was *right there, it was impossible to ignore. Still, I tried to distract myself, focusing instead on the feeling of Jake’s beard as he nibbled on my jaw, waiting for me to adjust to him.

“So many times you teased me, with those short pretty dresses and cute little smiles, and now I finally have you right here where I want you.” He hid his head on the crook of my neck, just the way Tom usually did, and instinctively, I laced my fingers over some of his locks, just like I usually did with my boyfriend. “You know what, angel? I think I might just keep you.”

I couldn’t really focus on what he was saying, and I knew it wouldn’t do me any good either. There was some comfort in thinking that he only wanted me for my body, that’s what I knew and that’s what I wanted to focus on.

At the first snap of his hips, a whimper escaped my lips, still unable to relax so it wouldn’t hurt. Jake only chuckled, brushing away a few strands of untamed hair that covered my face before kissing my lips briefly. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m gonna fuck the pain away, you’ll see.”

Regardless of the discomfort, I savored each and every thrust of his member inside my walls, holding tightly to his shoulders as I prayed - for what, I had no idea. I wanted this to be over just as much as I wanted to cherish every second of it, if only for the memories I’d get to recount to my boyfriend when it was all over.

Almost as if he was reading my mind, Jake spoke on that moment, “Wouldn’t it be hot if Tom was here to watch me fucking you?” That was a thought my brain could process, and it made me come that much closer to cumming all around Jake’s cock. “I bet you wanted him to be here, so he could see just how good I’m fucking you.”

A particular thrust of his hips had him finally hitting that spot that had me melting underneath him, releasing his shoulder in order to find hold in the tangled sheets of the bed. “God, I can’t believe he’d let you out of his sight for only a second, much less that he let me fuck you.”

His words were only murmurs pressed against my skin, accompanied by licks and bites all over the already bruised skin of my chest, but I heard every single word, questioning just how much kinker this man could get.

“I’d make you beg for my cock right in front of him, baby. I’d make you cry for it while he was watching, make you forget you even belong to him.” There was a pause then, when he finally looked up from my glistening skin, covered in his saliva, to meet my eyes. “I’m gonna do that now.” 

That was his warning as he picked up the pace, keeping eye contact that I desperately wanted to break, but found myself unable to. He was like a force field in himself. Magnetic, inescapable. When he said he would ruin my innocence for Tom, I had no doubts about it.

Each thrust of his hips revealed parts of myself I was unaware of before, parts I was unsure I wanted to recognize as being mine, anyway. And in the midst of this tug of war between head and heart, I was growing more desperate to cum with each passing second, suffocated by the weight of Jake’s body on top of me, his muscles locking me under his control.

When it was impossible to hold it in anymore, I expected to be able to bring him down into the depths of pleasure with me, but I should have known better. While I reveled in the aftershocks of yet another orgasm, body laying heavy and without response on the bed, he just groaned and kept fucking me, like he was would never be able to forgive himself if he wasn’t able to keep going.

“Swear to God… I’ve never had a better pussy in my entire life.” The filthiness of his words surprisingly added to the sensations of my own afterglow, making my pussy even wetter - and I knew he could feel it, especially by the growl that escaped his chest. “Yeah, you like knowing that, huh? You like knowing I’ve fucked a shit ton of women and still your pussy is the tightest, wettest, warmest pussy I’ve ever had.”

I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t feel as aroused by him comparing me to other women, or the thought of him with other women, but I did. Maybe it was because he wasn’t mine, and I knew he never would be. I was okay with that - Tom was all I wanted. But knowing that the memories of what we shared would haunt him way after he was thorough with me gave me some spiteful sense of pride, and I just couldn’t deny it.

“What about me, huh? What about my cock? Do you like it? Do you like the way it’s splitting you open, making you cream around me? Tell me, angel. Tell me how good I make you feel.”

Jake’s P.O.V.

I could see that the overstimulation was getting to her now, and she relented, telling me exactly what I longed to hear, probably in need to distract herself from how raw her pussy was feeling now.

“I-It feels s-so good…” I had to bite back a grin at the admission, knowing how much it cost her to let it out, but also aware that she needed to completely let go in order to fully enjoy this the way that she deserved to.

“Are you gonna tell him? How it felt to have my big cock inside of you? Are you gonna think about it while you fuck him?” The thought of Tom had her moaning more loudly, more easily close to letting go of the control she still held so tightly to her chest.

“Come here, sweetheart. I think it’s time you ride me.” I inverted our positions so that she was the one on top now, letting my body rest on the headboard so I could still keep a tight grip on her hips.

I was so fucking close, I craved to reach my high and I knew that she was aware of it. It was clear in the way I couldn’t let her do her job, instead fucking myself up against her, desperate to cum. And the sight of her breasts right in front of me only added to the fire in my lower belly, growls and groans escaping me the more I forced her to quicken her movements.

“I’m going to give you something…” I started right when I felt that delicious sensation taking over my body, spreading through every single part of me. “A gift so you can give to Tom.”

I could see that she was puzzled, but right then my orgasm hit me, making me spill ropes upon ropes of cum into her tight, delicious pussy. Surprisingly, the feeling had her sighing and curling up against me, like she knew that this meant we were through, and she could finally relax.

I chuckled, squeezing her ass as I milked my own orgasm, making sure every single drop was inside of her, before slapping one of the cheeks. “Keep it in,” I ordered, and I knew she was aware of what I was talking about. “He’ll love it. Just like you loved to take me in your pretty little hole. Didn’t you?”

Instead of answering, she just hid her head in the crook of my neck, making me chuckle loudly. How adorable. I’d just fucked her silly, and she still felt embarrassed about something so natural.

In the quiet of night, as I waited for both of our breathing patterns to come back to normal, I absentmindedly traced shapes against her back, thinking about how in a few minutes she’d be out the door and back in her boyfriend’s arms and I would go to sleep alone. Like I always did. And because my mind knew well enough that I wouldn’t handle being vulnerable in front of her, my hand ended up between the cheeks of her ass, right where I hadn’t had the chance to explore.

“Tell me, beautiful,” I broke the silence, kissing her shoulder to relax her when her muscles tensed after I circled her puckered hole. “Did he ever fuck this ass? I bet I could fill this little hole real good, too.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Just the thought of having him like that had me clenching around his member again. It wasn’t necessarily a scary thought - I was more afraid of how arousing the mental image got me, especially since I hadn’t had the chance to explore that with Tom just yet.

Before I had the chance to explain there was no way in hell I’d be losing my ass virginity to him, he laughed, slapping my butt lightly again, before clarifying, “Don’t worry, angel. I’m not going to overstep my welcome. Besides, it’d take too much time to get my dick inside of you, I’d never be able to stop myself from cumming too soon.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I opted to just nod before I managed to slowly gather my strength to finally climb down from his lap. I bit my lip to stifle the groan that threatened to erupt from my chest at the feeling of being so empty after being so thoroughly fucked, but the second I was away from him, his hand fell down on my ass once more, his face taken by a boyish grin when I turned around to stare at him.

“Maybe next time.” It took me a while to understand he was still referring to anal sex, and when I did, I felt my face burn at all the implications of that statement. “I trust you’ll think of me if you and Tom ever decide to open the relationship to embrace someone else in the mix.”

Now that was unexpected, and yet again, there was nothing I could say, so I just silently gathered my stuff - annoyingly conscious of the little souvenir he’d left me to carry with me back to the house - while he located some sweatpants and followed me downstairs. 

“Bye.” It felt weird saying just that to wrap up everything that had happened between us ever since I stepped foot into this house, only a few hours earlier, but what else was there to say? Of course, Jake had a different opinion, and that became clear with the parting words he left me to ponder as I sat alone, sore and dirty on the taxi ride back to my house.

“Goodbye, sweetheart. Rest assured, everytime your eye meets mine while we’re out in public, I’ll be thinking about how it felt to be balls deep into you. I hope you’ll be thinking about me too. Maybe then you won’t tease me so much.”