#I'm not even done cleaning my whole room this was just from the floor but that's probably where the majority would be
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the-s1lly-corner · 3 days ago
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Headcanons of seeing Jason’s face for the first time?
Only if you want
Seeing Jason's face for the first time
I'm starting my daily walks again yay!! It's been about two months since I got to do one since the weathers been awful hooray
Kinda missed writing slasher stiff... miss my slasher rot too.. maybe I'll try to revive it when I'm done with my current interest/it begins to die back
Notes: gn reader, short post, written on mobile, give that man some loving
CWs: mentions of bullying
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He's very apprehensive about taking his mask off around you... he doesn't have many rules when it comes to you- he just wants you to be safe and preferably not leave the cabin without him thanks to the traps he's got set around...
...and... respecting the mask. He basically locks you out of the room when he needs to take it off for one reason or another- which is once in a blue moon. The thing could be caked in filth and he'd still be wearing it... sure you COULD ask to clean it for him but expect him to bring the sack out of retirement while you work
Can... one blame him? He's been bullied relentlessly his entire life for... what, exactly? Just looking different? You may not know the whole context- the most you've got is the rumors you heard from town before heading down to the camp- and Jason's never going to tell you about it in detail
He doesn't want to relieve those memories again
He'd be mortified if you accidentally saw his face- his mask (which is... how old exactly? And how beaten up?) Ends up breaking... or someone snatches it and flees while he's out... "working"... or the rare occurance he cleans it himself..
It's that lack of control. But he'd probably never show you his face on his own time. Too terrified that you'd stop loving him
He's so... frozen when the straps finally give way after years of wear and tear. The Clack it makes on the floor is nearly defeaning. It takes him a second to even think about covering his face with his hands
Oddly enough... smothering him in love right then and there might not be the best course of action... leaning too deep into it may make him believe you're being insincere...
Comfort and gentle reassurance is the best way to make him take his hands away- though his head will remain lowered
Baby steps to build him back up- moving on and not making a stink of it means more to him than pampering him... though...
..he wouldn't be against having some extra cuddles n kisses...
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i-am-totally-not-a-lizard · 2 years ago
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Fun part of having long hair and zero motivation to get out of bed for 9 months of the year: hair ties accumulate everywhere. I found 63 from just cleaning the floor of my room 🤠
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miihho · 10 months ago
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"𝑫𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒊𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆"
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— 𝐒𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬: If you don't want your butler to reach a breaking point and take matters into his own hands by 'disciplining' you, perhaps refrain from behaving like a spoiled brat next time.
— 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: rough sex , unprotected sex , brat!reader , overstimulation , bttm male reader , blowjob , smacking , swearing , dirtytalk , praise , manhandling , dirty talk , age gap , virgin!reader , making out , degradation , petnames , non con , public sex.
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PART 1 , PART 2
You sat at the long, luxurious dinner table while the maid nervously watched you eat the food prepared for you. As you took a bite, the maid grew anxious, eyes fixed on your every move. Moments later, a displeased expression crossed your face, and the maid seemed to brace herself for what was to come, as if she had expected it.
"blech!" you spat the meal you were eating. "This is disgusting! Make me another one!" you shouted, throwing the plate of food to the ground, shattering it into pieces. You glared at the maid, who nodded and hurriedly began picking up the broken fragments from the floor.
As the maid cleaned, your impatience mounted. "Move faster!" you demanded. Startled, she flinched, causing the shattered glass to prick her skin, blood seeping from the cuts.
You didn't care. The sight of her blood, her pain—none of it mattered to you. You were a just brat after all.
"Hurry up! I'm growing impatient, you vermin!" you scolded, your harsh words causing tears to well up in her eyes. She nodded quickly and, once done cleaning the mess, ran off to get your new food.
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"He wants another dish." the maid announced to the weary chefs. It was the fourth meal you had dismissed.
"Again? What does that brat even like?!" one chef groaned, exasperated. "He's just toying with us. He enjoys seeing us suffer because he has all that power," another chef complained.
The butler, Kyzer, heard their conversation as he passed through the hallways. The chefs and maid flinched when he entered the kitchen. "S-Sir Kyzer!" bowed the maid.
"Oh, Kyzer, what brings you here?" a male chef inquired.
"Pardon me but I accidentally overheard one of your discussion regarding the unfortunate incident with the prince. It saddens me that the boy has, for the fourth time, squandered your hard-prepared meals. I intend to address this matter with him personally, in the hope of curbing this unacceptable behavior." Kyzer declared, his words resonating deeply with the maid and the chefs.
"Kyzer, we appreciate it, but you don't have to do that! We can handle him... I think?" another chef responded, though his voice wavered with uncertainty.
"I must. I don't want your hard work and efforts to go to waste," Kyzer said firmly, his resolve clear.
"K-kyzer, you're so kind to us!" one of the chefs exclaimed, clearly moved by his actions. "I just don't understand why M/n can't be more like you—polite, kind, and well-mannered, instead of such a brat!"
"Well, he's been surrounded by abundance and luxury his whole life. His parents never taught him proper etiquette, so I suppose that's why he turned out that way," another chef remarked.
"Hm... Would you also like me to teach him a thing or two?" "
"Yes! That would be wonderful, Kyzer! Please change his behavior if you can," the chefs pleaded, bowing deeply in gratitude.
"I'll do my best. Now, if you'll excuse me," Kyzer said, bowing before leaving the kitchen. He walked purposefully through the grand hallways of the kingdom toward the dining room where you were waiting.
A few minutes later, Kyzer arrived and opened the large door to the dining room. There you were, sitting alone at the long table, surrounded by empty chairs, waiting impatiently for your food with an annoyed cute expression on your face.
You turned to look at him, his long white hair and piercing yellow eyes sending a chill down your spine. "Who are you? And where is that maid? Why is she taking so long? Ugh!" you grumbled, sounding like a spoiled child.
"My name is Kyzer, your highness," he introduced himself, bowing deeply with one hand on his chest and the other arm behind his back. "The maid is in the kitchen, and it takes time to prepare a new dish for you, your highness." he explained, maintaining his respectful bow.
"Then make them cook faster. I'm getting impatient here!" you demanded, scrutinizing Kyzer from head to toe.
"I'm afraid I cannot your highness. I'm here for other reasons," Kyzer replied, straightening up.
"What?! How dare a lowly butler like you defy my orders?!" you exclaimed, shocked by his refusal. "What even is your reason here?" you demanded, glaring at him.
"You."
"W-what?" you responded, disbelief evident in your tone.
"I'm here because of you, Your Highness," he said, his yellow eyes boring into yours.
You felt a twinge of nervousness under his intense glare, but you weren't one to back down. Crossing your arms defiantly, you retorted. "Me? What for? If it's something insignificant, you get out of my sight!"
"Oh, Your Highness, it's far from unimportant because it's about you."
"About me!? Just what are you trying to say?" you replied while staring at him with perplexity and fury.
He was starting to get on your nerves.
"It's about your behavior and manners, Your Highness. They need to change—"
You snapped, standing up abruptly and grabbing a wine glass. You threw it at him, but it missed and shattered against the wall instead.
"Don't try and give me lessons about behavior and manners, it won't work on me you imbecile!" you shouted, your voice echoing through the grand dining room. As you met his gaze, you flinched at the intensity of his icy glare fixed on you.
You were slowly getting on his nerves.
Somehow, you felt a twinge of regret for your actions, but what was done was done, and there was no turning back. "I'm giving you a chance. I'll let this slide for now!" you scoffed, striding towards him and 'accidentally' bumping his shoulder as you headed for the door. "Tell the maids to clean up the mess." you ordered, but he said nothing.
Weird.
Just as you were about to open the door, he grabbed you roughly by the hair, eliciting a pained sound from you. He threw you to the floor, and you landed hard on your backside, hissing in pain.
"What the fuck are you doing!? If my parents hear about this, your head will be cut off!" you yelled, staring up at him, though part of you wished you hadn't. Behind those intense yellow eyes, you sensed something ominous lurking. Something telling you that something bad was about to happen.
"This is your last chance."
"Change. Your. Behavior."
You chuckled, "And why should I?" you raised an eyebrow, smirking defiantly.
"People are suffering because of you. Your crude and mean comments, your filthy mouth—they need to be purified. And I know you didn't receive proper etiquette, so I'm willing to teach you." he explained.
"Purified!? fuck off! They deserve it. I don't care whether I hurt their feelings or not, they're lowlifes! They don't deserve to be treated the same way. And those chefs and maids? They're just servants, working for us. They're poor, probably came from the gutter, ew! They don't deserve special treatment like us royals!" you retorted venomously.
And then he finally snapped.
As he walked towards you, confusion clouded your expression. "What are you doing—" but your words were cut off as he grabbed you by the collar and dragged you onto the table. You struggled to pry his hands away, but he was too strong.
"Get your dirty hands off me!" you shouted at him, but he ignored your protests. With a swift motion, he threw you onto the table, and you cried out in surprise. Landing with a thud, you quickly placed both palms on the table, using it to support your weight.
As you tried to regain your composure. He forcefully stripped off your pants and underwear, leaving your lower body exposed. Your eyes widened in shock and embarrassment. "Stop! What are you doing with those filthy hands of yours!" you cried out, feeling utterly vulnerable and violated.
You found yourself facing away from him, your exposed backside vulnerable and humiliating. As you attempted to look back at him, he forcefully shoved your head to the ground with his hand, preventing any movement. Struggling to rise, you found yourself pinned in place, utterly helpless.
"S-stop this instant! Someone could walk in here at any moment, you idiot!" you pleaded desperately, but he only inched his face closer to your ear.
"Count." he whispered.
"W-what?"
Smack!
"Wah!" you gasped in surprise as the sharp stinging sensation of his hand striking your exposed ass jolted through you.
"I said, count." he repeated.
"H-how dare you tell me what to do—"
Smack!!
A sharp gasp escaped your lips as he delivered a firmer blow to your backside, the sensation igniting a mixture of pain and arousal that pulsed through your body.
"If you don't count, Your Highness, it'll only get worse and harsher," he warned, caressing your slightly reddened ass. "So please do as I say." he urged, his voice soft yet commanding.
Smack!
"O-one," you stammered, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.
Smack!
"T-two..."
Smack!
"T—..three." you breathed out, your face pressed down onto the table. Each smack sent a jolt of sensation through you, a mixture of pain and a strange, exhilarating—....pleasure?
He seemed to be truly enjoying your reactions, relishing in the cute gasps and flinches you let out. A smile spread across his lips as he gently paused the spanks, caressing your ass for a moment before resuming with renewed vigor.
Smack!
"f-four!"
As the spanking continued, it eventually came to a halt when you ceased to respond. Sensing your exhaustion, he removed his hand from atop your head, understanding that you had no energy left to fight. Your rear end was now red and throbbing, you had lost track of the count. With gentle care, he soothen your reddened cheeks, offering a moment of relief and comfort.
"How many was it, Your Highness?" His voice was tender as he sought to ground you in the moment.
"I... I don't know," you murmured weakly, your voice barely audible over the echo of pain.
"It's 26, Your Highness," he informed you, his fingers coaxing your face to meet his gaze. As you turned to look at him, he couldn't help but feel a surge of desire. Your flushed cheeks, those endearing hiccups, those captivating eyes, those cute lips...
Fuck... Every aspect of you stirred an undeniable attraction within him, you were turning him on.
He gazed at your lips, inching his face closer to yours, slowly, deliberately. You tried to turn away, but he held your face firmly in place. He was so close, close enough to feel the warmth of your breath on his skin, close enough to taste your plump lips...
Knock, knock!
The sound jarred him from the moment, a surge of frustration coursing through him. Damn it, he had forgotten they were at the dining table.
"Your Highness, your food is ready," the maid's voice came from outside the door.
"Now, if you cause another disturbance, you'll face another punishment. You don't want that, do you?" he said, his eyes locking onto yours with an unwavering intensity.
"F-fuck you... L-let me go and get my pants! T-this is an order," you demanded weakly, still exhausted from the pain and the effort of keeping your screams contained so the maids wouldn't become suspicious and barge in.
Kyzer was going to follow your orders, but his eyes darted down to your shaft, which was standing up confidently. "Are you sure, Your Highness? You're quite... hard down there. You wouldn't want an uncomfortable erection, would you?" he taunted, his hand lowering from your ass to your shaft.
"N-no, it'll go down. Stop!" you stammered, but a moan escaped your lips as he touched you. "Look at this cute little cock, so pretty, just like its owner," Kyzer murmured, beginning to stroke you. You let out a loud moan and quickly covered your mouth.
"Your Highness, may I come in?" the maid called from outside, oblivious to what was happening inside the room. Kyzer continued to stroke you slowly, the deliberate pace heightening your frustration.
"H-hurry up!" you ordered, your voice strained with urgency.
"You want me to hurry? Then beg for it, Your Highness," he smirked, his hand engulfing your tiny lil sensitive cock.
You were embarrassed and humiliated at this point. You, a prince, begging for something? It infuriated you, but the thought of your reputation being ruined drove you to comply.
"P-please hurry up, please let—hng!...M-me cum." you begged, your teary eyes locking with his mischievous yellow ones. He licked his lips, clearly enjoying your submission.
"As you wish, Your Highness," he said, his pace quickening as he stroked you up and down, causing your back to arch off the table.
"Mmhp!?" you moaned, drool seeping from your mouth as you tried to stifle your sounds with your hand. He began to tease the tip of your cock with his index finger, swirling it clockwise.
"Your Highness, please let me hear those beautiful moans... Please let me hear how good I’m making you feel," he whispered. Lost in the pleasure, you obliged, moaning louder, no longer able to control yourself.
"That's it," he breathed, his lustful eyes fixed on your flushed face. Drool was seeping from your mouth, your cheeks were a deep shade of red, and your eyebrows were scrunched up in pure ecstasy. The sight of you like this almost made him cum in his pants. "That's a good boy." he grinned, his own arousal evident as he continued to bring you closer to the edge.
"Are you gonna cum for me, Your Highness?" Kyzer's voice dripped with seduction, his smile widening as he saw you lost in pleasure. "Fuck... You're so adorable when you're messed up." His face flushed as he leaned in, licking the tears streaming down your cheeks. The sensation made you shiver, and he grinned, quickening his pace.
"Nngh—!... Ahh! I-I'm gon' c-cum!!" you cried out, your body trembling as you threw your head back.
"Cum for me, Your Highness. Be a good boy and cum for me."
"A-ahh~!" Your cute little cock spurted, painting the marble floor with streaks of white as you panted heavily, sweat glistening on your skin.
"Well done, Your Highness. I'm very proud of you~♡" he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "I knew you could do it." He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
"Your Highness? Are you there?" the maid called from outside the door, her voice filled with concern.
"Let's get you dressed up, yeah?" Kyzer said softly, his voice a mix of amusement and authority. He retrieved your discarded clothing, his touch gentle but firm as he helped you back into your garments. His fingers brushed against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as he adjusted your clothing with meticulous care.
You were still trembling, the aftershocks of pleasure making it difficult to stand. Kyzer's hands were steady, though, guiding you through each movement as he redressed you.
"Remember, Your Highness," he murmured, his lips close to your ear, "I will change your behavior. This is just the beginning." He smirked.
Once you were fully dressed, he took a step back, his eyes scanning you with satisfaction. "There you go, presentable as ever." He straightened his own attire, ensuring he looked impeccable before turning towards the door.
As he opened it, the maid stood waiting with your meal. "Your food, Your Highness," she said, bowing slightly.
Kyzer gave you one last meaningful glance, his eyes lingering on yours. "Enjoy your meal your highness." he said smoothly, before stepping aside to let the maid through.
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rothpie · 3 months ago
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❝FIDELITY❞ |part9
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MASTERLIST -`✮´- Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader x JJ Maybank
Summary: Kook!Reader’s world is upended by betrayal, and her only way forward might lie with the most unlikely person—JJ Maybank. But as they build a new life together, old flames and past mistakes refuse to stay buried.
Warnings: mentioning miscarriage, blood, mentioning drug and alcohol use, daddy issues
Selly's note: First of all I'm sorry. I wrote this while my heart was broken. I learned my ex left the country. He was the first person I loved. LIKE COME BACK???? We HAVE TO marry!!!!! Sorry for oversharing💗, and if there is a mistake. I didn't re-read this. Love y'all.💗💗
previous - next
Your hands trembled. Your whole body felt numb, yet the shaking tethered you to reality. There was a heavy weight on your chest, as though even breathing had become an uphill battle. A knot in your throat tightened with every passing second, making even the simple act of swallowing painful. You didn’t know what to do. The chaos of the moment was tearing your mind into pieces, your thoughts tangling into a knot so thick you couldn’t unravel it. 
You hadn’t done anything unusual. The day had started like any other. You made yourself some herbal tea, watched TV, read a book about baby development. You cleaned the house a little, then opened the packages that had arrived—items for your daughter’s room. 
Alone. 
Since the moment you arrived in this town, you’d always felt alone, but this was different. This was like falling into a deep, endless chasm, where there was nothing to grasp, no hand to reach for. You could feel your hands flailing in the void, desperately searching, yet finding nothing. 
The warm, sticky sensation spreading down your legs sent a jolt of panic through you. Your eyes flicked downward involuntarily, but you didn’t want to look. Yet it felt as if everything around you was betraying you, even the streetlamp outside, which cast its harsh glow on the spreading pool on the floor. You didn’t want to see it. You feared that seeing it would confirm your worst fears. Your eyes filled with tears, but you couldn’t cry. You wouldn’t cry. Would tears ease the crushing weight of this fear? You doubted it. 
You reached for your phone, but even your fingers trembled. Touching the screen, dialing a number, selecting a name—it all felt like an impossible task. The chaos in your mind blurred your thoughts. Everything was moving too fast and too slow all at once. Seconds stretched into eternities, yet time pressed on, dragging you deeper into helplessness. 
You hadn’t wanted this. You had left the island just for this pregnancy, determined to build a life here. And now, was it all going to be taken from you? After all the effort to adjust, after everything? 
You glanced around. The silence of the room pressed down on you like a weight. It felt as if the entire world had pulled away, leaving you stranded. You knew there were people—so many people—but none of them were close, not really. Placing your hands on your belly, you clung to the small hope that the motion could somehow quiet the storm of fear inside you. But it didn’t work. 
The voices of fear echoed in your mind: What if I’m too late? What if it’s over? What if this loneliness never ends? Each scenario was scarier than the last. You closed your eyes, but even the darkness offered no solace. The images in your head only fanned the flames of your terror. 
When you finally held the phone in your hand, you knew you had to choose someone to call. Should it be your mom? Or your dad? Maybe… someone else? But what if they couldn’t come? That thought pushed you deeper into despair. It suddenly felt as if the entire world had turned its back on you, as if every person was out of reach. The weight of isolation was crushing. 
Your hands were cold and clammy. As your fingers hovered over the screen, trying to pick a name, you felt frozen. You couldn’t move them. It was as though your brain had redirected all its attention to the fluid trickling down your legs and the stabbing pain in your abdomen. Panic consumed you, leaving you paralyzed and unsure of what to do. 
A quiet voice in your mind whispered, Everything will be okay. But it was impossible to believe. That voice was so faint, so far away, drowned out by the louder, darker thoughts. Reality felt so distant that even hope seemed like a luxury you couldn’t afford. While your mind scrambled for answers, your body refused to move. 
You tightened your grip on your belly, as though holding on harder could anchor you to something, anything. Alone in that dark, silent room, you had never felt smaller. The outside world was shut off from you, leaving only your fears, your thoughts, and the suffocating weight of solitude. 
Since moving to this town, you’d thought a lot about loneliness. But now, you truly understood its meaning. Loneliness wasn’t just sitting in silence. It wasn’t merely being by yourself. Loneliness was not having anyone to reach when you needed them most. It was feeling as though your voice couldn’t reach anyone, as though you were invisible. 
The trembling didn’t stop. Your eyes darted around, trying to focus on something, anything, but everything was blurry—not because you couldn’t see, but because you couldn’t concentrate. Nothing made sense in that moment. 
You searched for a way out. But maybe the only thing you could do was wait. That thought terrified you even more. Waiting... it made you feel so helpless, so powerless. But what else could you do? 
Tears welled up again as you struggled to breathe. But each breath felt heavier, each inhale pulling the loneliness deeper into your chest. That loneliness, like a black hole, seemed ready to devour you. 
You couldn’t bring yourself to look at the pool of liquid spreading on the floor. You couldn’t face it. If you didn’t look, maybe it would stay a bad dream. Maybe this was just paranoia playing tricks on your mind. 
Even though you could feel the warm liquid dripping down your legs, you clung to the hope that you’d wake up. That you’d open your eyes in bed and thank God it was just a nightmare. 
You wanted to wake up. You didn’t want to believe this was real. Not after everything you had done to adjust to this new life. Not after leaving the island to start fresh. 
You had left everything behind. Everyone. 
For a life with your baby. 
You had wanted this baby. Even with your initial doubts, you had wanted it. And for what? To have it taken from you? 
Your eyes shut tight as your hand clenched the phone and your other hand pressed harder against your belly. You wished the pain would stop, that the ache—so reminiscent of a menstrual cramp—would just go away. 
Only days ago, you’d noticed your belly start to show, a tiny swell that made you smile. You had cradled it with your hands, talked to it, even though you didn’t care if it could hear. You wanted it to know you were there. Just a few days ago, you’d been excited about buying clothes for it. 
For this? 
For it to be taken away? 
When you finally opened your eyes, the only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock. You wanted to block it out. You wanted the sensation in your legs to disappear. For a moment, you convinced yourself it was all in your head. But the warm trickle that followed was a harsh slap of reality. 
Your trembling eyes drifted downward. The sight of the blood pooled on the floor knocked the breath out of you. Your heart skipped, as if an elephant had perched on your chest. Your legs gave way. Falling to the floor hurt, but it was nothing compared to the pain in your chest. 
You had never seen them. They’d only been with you for five months, but the thought of that bond breaking—of losing them—felt like your heart was being ripped out. 
When you love something so deeply, does it always have to be taken away? Is that just the way life works? Had everything led to this moment? 
Had you fought with your family, with Rafe, for this? Had you left your entire life behind, moved to this town, just to lose your baby? 
Even your family had started to share your joy. They were thrilled for you, as ecstatic as you were. And now, for what? For this? 
Were you supposed to mourn?
To learn a lesson, did you really have to fall this hard? You hated it. You didn’t want to learn any more lessons. Not if they hurt this much. If growth meant falling like this, you were ready to stay exactly the same—stagnant, unchanging, and safe. 
The moment you felt a fragment of clarity, just enough to push panic aside, you called 911. You couldn’t afford to lose more time. It felt like your mind had snapped back into place, even if only temporarily. 
But you had no idea what you were saying. Your words felt foreign, disjointed, even as you tried to describe what was happening. They assured you they’d come to your home. They told you not to hang up.
Then you realized—you needed to call your family. You needed them with you. Right now, you just wanted to be back in Outer Banks, in your own house, surrounded by the people who had always been there for you. 
If you were there, you wouldn’t feel this crushing loneliness. They would be by your side. 
You didn’t even know how many times you tried. Your fingers repeatedly dialed your mom’s number, then your dad’s, over and over again. Each time, you were met with the same recorded message: unreachable. 
Still, you kept calling, clinging to that faint hope that someone, anyone, would answer. But each attempt ended the same way, the monotone voice echoing the same result. 
And then, without thinking, your fingers moved on their own. They dialed his number. In that moment, you didn’t care about shame or pride. All that mattered was that you needed help. You needed Rafe. Even if the chance was slim, even if it was just a sliver of hope, you needed him to answer. 
As the phone rang, your heart pounded so violently it felt like it would burst out of your chest. Each ring amplified the fragile hope blooming inside you. Your lips moved as if uttering a prayer: “Please pick up.” You needed someone—anyone—to be there, to tell you that everything was going to be okay. Tears streamed down your face as the call rang on, unanswered.
He wouldn’t ignore you, you told yourself. He wouldn’t turn you away. He’d come. You knew he would. He had to. You prayed he wasn’t still angry, that he didn’t hate you for not terminating the pregnancy. 
When the call ended without an answer, you didn’t stop. Your trembling hands hit redial without hesitation. Shame and pride were irrelevant now. You needed him. If he wouldn’t come, you needed him to reach your family. You were utterly alone otherwise. 
Alone. The word echoed like a hollow drumbeat in your chest. 
For a moment, time seemed to stop. The racing of your heart, the chaotic swirl of your thoughts, even your tears—all stilled in the suffocating silence of your own helplessness. But you didn’t give up. You called again. And again. Your trembling fingers barely functioned, struggling to tap the screen. But you kept trying.
Fuck pride. You needed help. You needed someone by your side, someone to hold you, someone to tell you it wasn’t the end. Your lips quivered as you let out a stifled sob. “Please…” When the call went to voicemail yet again, your shoulders shook with the weight of another unanswered prayer. 
Wasn’t this his baby too? Didn’t it matter to him? You hadn’t made this baby alone. Surely he would care. You didn’t need him to grieve with you. You just needed him here. And he would come. Rafe was a lot of things, but when it came down to it, he wouldn’t leave you stranded. 
Not you. 
You had to believe that. You clung to that hope like a lifeline, begging for it to still be true. 
Another sob tore through you, reverberating through the empty room. This time, it came from somewhere so deep inside that it left your chest heavy, crushed under the weight of despair. You prayed he’d answer.
You weren’t strong enough to endure this. 
You didn’t want to do this alone. You fought to steady your trembling lips, desperate to string together the words you’d need to say if he picked up—when he picked up. But once again, the line went dead.
This time, it felt like a door slamming in your face. But it wasn’t just rejection—it was the crumbling of a trust you hadn’t even realized you still held onto. Deep down, you had truly believed he would answer. That he’d help you. That he wouldn’t leave you to face this on your own. 
As the silence deepened, your hands fell to the cold floor, sticky with blood. You didn’t even care. You felt like everything you wanted, everything you’d dreamed of, was slipping through your fingers. Did you not deserve happiness? Had you done something so wrong to deserve this? 
You wanted to scream. To set the house on fire, to rip apart the tiny baby clothes you’d just bought. 
You nearly buried your face in your hands, but the sight of blood on your fingers stopped you. Frantically, you wiped them on your nightgown, trying to erase it. You wanted it gone—needed it gone. You wanted to forget everything that had happened today. 
The phone was still in your hand, your fingers gripping it like it held a flicker of hope. Rafe hadn’t answered. Your family hadn’t answered. Their silence only pushed you deeper into yourself. Your tears began to dry, replaced by a hollow ache gnawing at your insides. 
After your final attempt, you let the screen go dark. The reflection of your tear-streaked face stared back at you from the blackened screen, ghostly and unfamiliar. Your lips still trembled with silent cries, your voice barely audible even to yourself. 
Then, the phone buzzed. The unexpected vibration made you flinch. The screen lit up, and your heart stuttered before racing into overdrive. A message. 
When you saw the name, a fraction of the emptiness lifted. JJ. His name sat there like it belonged, as if the chaos hadn’t touched it. You opened the message, holding your breath. 
How’s it going with your new street animal buddies? Found yourself a soulmate yet?
It was stupid. Ridiculous. But somehow, in all its absurdity, that sarcastic tone cracked something open inside you. A tiny window of light broke through the storm. 
And yet, the relief was fleeting. Looking at the message, then back at the blood pooling on the floor, your emotions surged in a tangle of anger, helplessness, and unrelenting fear. 
You needed him. Right now. Without thinking, your trembling fingers scrolled back to his name.
The name on the screen made your eyes well up. JJ. So ordinary, so simple. Yet, at that moment, it felt like your only tether to life. He’d come. He would, wouldn’t he? 
With trembling hands, you pressed the call button. As you held the phone to your ear, the silence was broken only by the erratic pounding of your heart. Each ring sent a jolt of panic through you—what if he didn’t answer? “Please…” you whispered, barely audible. “Please pick up…”
It felt like you were losing your mind. Was this real? Had he really sent that message? 
��Hey, Princess. I noticed we’ve upped the calls lately. Can’t manage without me, huh—”
The distant sound of sirens reached your ears, and your lips quivered. Even JJ’s voice, with its usual cocky tone, felt like an anchor. Just hearing him talk, hearing that familiar teasing edge—it was everything. It made you feel as if you’d already done all you could. 
“I need you here.” 
The words came out shakily, and there was a pause on the other end of the line. One hand rested in your lap, the other gripping the phone, both stained with blood. 
To be honest, you were terrified. Not just about what might happen but about losing the baby. 
“What’s wrong?” His voice had lost its playful tone, replaced with a sharp seriousness. He was waiting for an answer, but you felt too drained, too scared, to put your fears into words. Saying the possibility of a miscarriage out loud felt impossible. 
How did he always know? How could he tell when you needed him the most? Was he like this with everyone, or just you? 
When he said your name, you tried to take a deep breath, but it came out broken and shallow. The sirens were getting closer. “I’m bleeding.” The weight of the words nearly crushed you as they left your lips, leaving you lightheaded—not from pain, but from the sheer gravity of it. 
You were so used to him being there. The idea of him leaving, of him not being there, was unbearable. “I called everyone, but—”
“I’m on the way. Did you call 911? Listen, I’ll be there, okay? Don’t worry. I’ll get there as fast as I can. You’ll be fine. You’re going to be fine. I’ll meet you at the hospital. Okay? I need you to say something.” His words were quick, determined, unwavering. 
You nodded instinctively, even though you knew he couldn’t see it. Even if this was your fate, you didn’t want to accept it. 
“I’m scared.” A sob escaped your lips as the sirens grew louder. They were on your street. 
“I’m coming. Everything’s going to be okay.”
Last night was ordinary. A night that fell short of expectations—not that Rafe knew what he was expecting anymore. He had become a ghost of himself, far from anything resembling pride. 
Had he ever been proud of himself, really? 
He couldn’t focus on the future or the present; he was stuck in the past. 
His eyes had searched for you everywhere. There wasn’t a corner of the Outer Banks he hadn’t roamed. The beach, parties, the country club—he’d scoured them all, just to catch a glimpse of you. 
He even shopped at the grocery store near your house, the one far from his own. Almost every day, he’d find himself there, grabbing a drink, some crackers, whatever he could justify, just to linger for a chance to see you. 
He missed your presence. Your scent. 
He missed the moments in bed with you—not the sex, but the times he held you in his arms, kissed you, and just existed in your warmth. He missed looking into your eyes, the overwhelming urge to tell you he loved you. 
But Rafe was a coward. He couldn’t admit that to anyone, not even himself. And you? You already knew. You didn’t need to hear it from anyone. 
He hadn’t told his father. He hadn’t told anyone—Topper, Kelce, Sarah, even Wheezie. Not that anyone else could really understand. 
You were the only one who truly knew him. And he’d lost you. Because he was a coward. 
He missed the sound of your voice. If he could go back, he’d want you to talk more in those old videos. He’d spend hours talking to you if he had the chance again. 
He couldn’t adjust to your absence. 
When he threw himself into alcohol, he didn’t think much about it. When had he ever truly sat down and thought anything through? All he knew was how to make impulsive decisions that wrecked his life. 
He couldn’t stand Topper and Kelce’s phases of chasing random girls, calling them over, laughing at nothing. Rafe’s mind, body, and soul belonged to you. He couldn’t bring himself to touch or even look at anyone else. 
Every time he closed his eyes, every time he tried to sleep, the only image in his head was your face. 
He hadn’t touched another woman. Not that he tried. He knew he couldn’t. It wouldn’t be the same. They wouldn’t be you. 
There was a time when he thrived on quick, meaningless flings. He hated attachments—blamed it on his childhood. He figured it was because he didn’t know what it meant to make love. He never let emotions into it. But with you, it was different. 
It was intoxicating—better than anything drugs had ever made him feel. It was addictive. 
He loved whispering “I love you” while he was with you. It made him feel like less of the mess he knew he was. But even then, he hadn’t said it enough—like the idiot he was. 
You had been gone from his life for almost four months, and the void was unbearable. Not even when he’d tried to quit drugs had he craved their presence the way he craved yours. 
It was like he was a teenager nursing his first heartbreak. And yet, somehow, this was the mildest punishment he thought he deserved for his cowardice. 
He’d worked so hard to get Ward’s approval, to finally be seen by his father. Ward was noticing him now, for the first time. He could see Rafe’s potential, and Rafe knew it. For once, it wasn’t Sarah he was looking at—it was him. 
For the first time, Ward saw Rafe accomplishing something for Cameron Development. For the first time, Rafe gave his father the impression that he was capable of more. After years of begging for attention, Rafe was finally getting it. 
But it had cost him you. 
He couldn’t bear the thought of losing his father’s approval. He couldn’t face that rejection again. Ward had finally placed a hand on his shoulder, and Rafe didn’t want to feel that hand pulled away. 
He hadn’t wanted to lose you, either. That was never part of the plan. It just… happened. Too fast. And he’d been too scared. 
Scared of seeing that disappointment in his father’s eyes again. 
Everyone around him noticed his spiraling depression, even Topper and Kelce. Though he never opened up to them, they could tell something was wrong. If they noticed, then everyone else must’ve, too. Not that Rafe cared. Nobody dared bring it up to him anyway. 
Under Topper and Kelce’s relentless pressure, he found himself at a party. Not to have fun. Not to let loose. But to see you. He spent the night searching for you, glancing around like you might walk in at any second. 
He looked for your old friends, the ones he’d seen you with before. He hoped you’d be there, even though he knew it was unlikely. You were pregnant. You probably wouldn’t come. But the possibility, however slim, was enough to drag him there. 
That same possibility kept him shopping near your place, day after day. 
For the chance of you. 
The more he didn’t see you, the more he drank, as if alcohol could drown out the ache. Nothing could fill the emptiness you left behind, but he still clung to his glass, hoping—maybe if he drank enough, he’d hallucinate you. 
He didn’t know how much he drank. It didn’t even feel like a party. Topper and Kelce flirted and joked with girls, but Rafe didn’t bother looking their way. He just drank and searched. 
You were the one who used to go to parties with him. You were his girl. And Rafe? He was yours. It wasn’t an open relationship; he wouldn’t have shared you with anyone. 
You used to pull him onto the dance floor. He’d groan and complain at first, but you always got your way. And once he gave in, he didn’t hate it. Not when he was touching you. He loved every moment he could hold you. 
Even now, he could hear your voice in his head, persuading him to dance. Him pretending to resist. You insisting, until he finally caved. What an idiot he’d been. He should’ve just said yes every time. Done anything you asked. 
His regrets were endless. His self-loathing, boundless. For being such a coward. For being a failure, yet again. 
You had believed in him, even when he didn’t believe in himself. Your faith in him had given him the courage to ask his father for opportunities, small as they were. And with you, he’d felt like he’d succeeded, just a little. 
Now he hated himself for choosing his father’s approval over you—and the baby. 
The thought of you moving on, raising a child without him, was unbearable. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw you with your swollen belly, or playing with your child—his child. And the thought of not being there... 
He hated himself for fearing his father more than losing you. For crawling for scraps of his father’s affection like some pathetic creature. 
Which he was. 
And now, for the rest of his life, he would hate this moment—and himself—for choosing so poorly. 
Rafe thought he’d made it home thanks to Topper and Kelce. He vaguely remembered stumbling through the front door and collapsing into Wheezie’s arms. The idea that the tiny girl could hold him up was almost laughable. Somehow, he’d managed to make it to his room.
Wheezie had laid him down on his bed before leaving. You’d have to be an idiot not to notice something was wrong. She knew her brother too well. She hadn’t seen him this quiet, this withdrawn, in a long time.
You were always there with him.
When you were around, Wheezie could hear your laughter coming from Rafe’s room. Even when Rafe was being his usual insufferable self, you made him bearable. She never thought he had that side to him. Frankly, she wasn’t even sure it existed until you came along.
When Rafe opened his eyes the next morning, a sharp, pounding headache greeted him like a cruel companion. The remnants of last night’s party echoed in his skull. Sitting up in bed, hungover and disoriented, fragments of the night before started to drift back into focus—crowds, noise, laughter. The sunlight filtering through the curtains hit him square in the face, intensifying the pain. All he wanted was to throw up and stay in bed for the rest of the day.
He didn’t remember much, just that he went to the party and drank like it was his last night on Earth. Alcohol had been a more reliable friend than Topper or Kelce that night.
Rubbing his hands over his face, he tried to shake off the fog. The smell—his own and the room’s—was rancid, like a stale cocktail of sweat and regret.
He kicked off the covers, intending to get up, when his eyes landed on a single pill and a glass of water sitting on the bedside table. Without thinking, he swallowed the pill and drained the glass.
Stumbling to the window, he threw it open, letting fresh air seep in. He took a quick shower, practically praying for relief from the headache that felt like it was splitting his skull in two. The cold water shocked his system, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to crawl into a dark room and hide there for a week.
Out of the shower, he wrapped a towel around his neck and caught a glimpse of his reflection. Dark circles framed his eyes, his face bore the fatigue of a man who hadn’t truly rested in years. The weight pressing down on him wasn’t just from the alcohol; it was everything else. Everything he’d tried to suppress. “You really are a master at screwing things up,” he muttered bitterly at himself.
His gaze drifted around the room—clothes tossed haphazardly on the bed, an empty bottle lying on the floor, a lighter on the nightstand. Even the carpet under his feet made his skin crawl. He needed to pull himself together, maybe eat something, grab a coffee. But first, his phone.
It sat there on the edge of the table, an unspoken threat. Reaching for it, a wave of unease washed over him. He didn’t know who he’d talked to, what he’d said, or worse, what he’d texted. His fingers trembled as he picked it up and unlocked the screen.
Notifications flooded in—group chats, Instagram likes—and then, there they were. Three missed calls.
From you.
His breath hitched. He stared at the screen, the timestamp mocking him. Midnight. One after the other. His thumb hovered over the call log, uncertainty gripping him. Why had you called? 
And why at midnight?
It couldn’t be. Not you. Not after everything. You never made the first move, especially not in the middle of the night. 
For a moment, he considered calling you back. His thumb ghosted over your name. Should he? Maybe. Or maybe not. What if it led to the same arguments—about the baby, about why you didn’t want to stay, about why he let you go? He could still feel the weight of everything left unsaid between you, haunting him like a shadow.
He dropped the phone back onto the table, running his hands through his hair. Deep down, he knew these questions were rhetorical. No matter how hard he tried to convince himself otherwise, he hadn’t stopped thinking about you—or the life you might’ve had together.
Rising from the bed, he moved to his closet, grabbing the first shirt he saw. A hollow ache settled in his chest as he debated whether to call. The courage he’d relied on last night felt a thousand miles away.
Just then, the phone buzzed. Another notification. His heart skipped. Was it you? No. Someone else. But the fleeting hope that it might’ve been you twisted something inside him.
Setting the phone down again, he took a deep breath. *Calm down,* he told himself. But calming down was impossible. The unease coiled tighter, mixing guilt and longing into a cocktail of misery.
Without thinking too much, he hit your name and let the call go through. The ringing filled the room, amplifying his heartbeat. What if you were asleep? What if he woke you? He hated the idea of disturbing you.
The line clicked off before you answered. His worry deepened. What if something had happened to you? His fingers hovered, then dialed again, this time with more urgency.
The second call rang longer. Each tone ratcheted up his anxiety. And then, finally, the line connected. 
“Hey,” Your voice was quiet, cautious.
For a moment, Rafe’s words stuck in his throat. He tried to speak, but it felt like someone had stolen his voice. Finally, he managed, “Hey… uh, you called me?”
It sounded weak, tentative. But hearing your voice, even like this, sent a pang straight through him. He missed you more than he could put into words.
A pause. The silence stretched, making him wonder if you were about to hang up. Then you answered, “I was drunk.”
The words hit him like a slap. Drunk? That was it? Just a drunk dial? The thought made his stomach twist. Was it really that meaningless?
“Are you okay?” he asked, this time more firmly, though it took everything not to press harder.
“I’m fine.” But your tone was too quick, too dismissive. He knew you better than that. He could always tell when you were lying. But he didn’t push. Maybe he didn’t want to know the truth.
“Alright,” he said, not knowing what else to say. He wanted to keep you on the line, to hear more, to find some excuse to hold onto this moment.
“Okay,” you said, your voice faltering briefly before you caught yourself. “I have to go.”
And just like that, the call ended. The short beep that followed felt like a final blow, sealing the unbearable silence around him.
Rafe stared at the phone. Drunk. The word echoed in his head. It collided with another thought, one that sent a chill through him. Did she…?
Had you gone through with it? The decision he’d pushed you toward but never truly wanted? He’d convinced himself it was the right thing to do, but now the thought made his chest tighten unbearably.
He slumped back into his chair, burying his face in his hands. He didn’t know how to feel—relief, regret, or something else entirely. But one thing was clear: he hadn’t stopped loving you. And that realization hit him harder than anything else.
He glanced at the phone one last time. Your name was still there on the screen, a painful reminder of everything he’d lost. 
He thought about texting you but stopped. No words felt right. Maybe silence was all he deserved. After all, what was left to say when you’d already walked away for good?
466 notes · View notes
bluesidez · 11 months ago
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GymRat!Miguel Part 7
content warning: mentions of blood, some violence, FINALLY 18+ so MDNI, dry humping 😁, like a smidge of fluff, some Spanish (as always, correct me if I'm wrong)
word count: 2.3k (we're back with some sense)
Prev | Next ✩°。 ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist
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Gabriel jumped as the grand doors slammed closed.
The room was quiet minus Kron groaning on the floor.
“I’m going to kill him!” he shouts, hand trying to cover his bloodied nose.
“If you try, you’ll be disowned,” Tyler frowned down at him. Gabriel had never seen him without a smile on his face. It was scary yet familiar. It was times like this that Gabriel was reminded that he and Miguel were different.
“Dad, are you fucking serious? He just assaulted me!” Kron cried in disbelief as Nancy tried her best to clean his face.
“It was nothing you didn’t deserve. Surely, you’re grateful that I pulled him away.”
“Tyler. Our son is hurt! And bleeding out on my expensive carpet,” Nancy bit back, snapping at a butler to bring her a health kit.
“My other son is also hurt,” Tyler replies with his voice even, looking at Nancy and Kron as if they’ve lost it.
Gabriel could see George tense up at Tyler’s acknowledgement of Miguel as his.
“All this time and effort spent on putting this whole thing together and for what? What did I gain?” Tyler said lowly as he took his glasses off.
“I’ve spent two decades raising you and the older you’ve gotten, the more you have disappointed me. Twenty years spending dollar after dollar on your schooling and wellbeing. Ten years of watching you grow. Ten more years of watching you drift and become someone I’m not sure I can even call mine. What happened to my boy? What have you done with him?”
Gabriel was outwardly wary of what would happen next. Internally though? He was bullet-pointing every dig.
His name wasn’t Gossip Gabriel for nothing.
He watched as Kron shook on the floor. A simple hangnail could probably make him breakdown.
“Almost two decades I’ve watched from the sidelines as my son grew up without me. I watched as another man took my place. I watched as my careless actions were formed into a son that I could not connect to, talk to, or even hold. So please, forgive me if the few times, no, the one time I have the opportunity to build that connection, I am furious that it is ruined by my eldest son and his entitlement.”
“Entitlement!? What entitlement? Every time I say something it’s wrong, but Miguel is all of a sudden this perfect son that you wish you had. I wasn’t the one that ran that girl away.”
“Watch it, boy,” Conchata hisses.
“No, you watch it!” Nancy snapped back.
“Silence!” Tyler’s voice boomed throughout the house. “What all of you fail to realize is that the special guests have been iced out of my home! Kron, I may not have been there for you at every moment, but I have never taught you to disrespect women like you’ve done tonight. You owe several apologies.”
“You cheated on mom to have a bastard baby.”
Gabriel only blinks as Tyler moves to hit Kron in the mouth. Just as fast as Miguel.
“And what your mother fails to tell you is that she cheated first. I am not perfect, but neither was she.”
“Escandaloso,” Gabriel leans over to whisper to Dana.
“It would be best for us to talk after you’ve gone to the hospital. Make haste, lest you make me angry, son,” Tyler says with venom-coated words.
Nancy, with help from one of the butlers, scrambled to get Kron up and out of the door.
Tyler took a deep breath and put his glasses back on. He turned to Conchata as started to unbutton his cufflinks.
“Conchata,” he said. “Level with me, what did you really not like about Miguel’s girlfriend tonight? I know you too well and her weight is not the problem. She’s beautiful, intelligent, talented, and we can both see that Miguel loves her.”
It was Conchata’s turn to look shocked. She looked around to everyone staring at her, waiting for a proper answer.
She stuttered trying to get her sentences out, “Why am I being held to the fire right now?”
“Ma, I’m not sure if you remember, but you quite literally criticized her body and expression,” Gabriel said. He was never afraid to step up to her when it came to Miguel, he just had to gauge how far he could go.
“I didn’t intend to do that,” Conchata starts.
“Honey, you stopped her from eating her food,” George chides. “It doesn’t get any worse than that.”
Conchata was silent as she sat back down, staring at the centerpiece, “I just-”
“No puedo creer que fueras tan grosera con ella, Conchata. Miguelito is right. You should be ashamed,” Gabriel’s abuela said. (I can’t believe you were so rude to her, Conchata.)
She got up and came to Conchata’s side, “You have fussed at him all his life. Nothing he did was ever good enough for you. You can not choose now to try and control him.”
“Tyler, can you have someone take me back home? Oh! And pack me one of those yummy cherries too,” she said as she gave him a hug and a pat on the cheek. She then proceeded to give everyone a goodbye but her daughter.
“I truly apologize for this hectic night,” Tyler announced to the room. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go see how I can make this up to Miguel. You all can use my home however you need.”
Gabriel cleared his throat now that he was left in a room with his parents and Dana, “Well. Did you guys like the meal?”
“I thought the filet mignon was fabulous,” Dana replied.
They leaned together and giggled.
Gabriel had a lot to spill to Miguel.
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
You wake up unbelievably warm, the bed sheets piled on top of you. You lift your head from the thick pillow, and waited as the AC hit your face.
Sun was coming in through the cracks of the drapes. It was all quiet except for the light snore coming from Miguel’s side of the bed.
You turn to him and he’s out from under the covers, bare muscly back to the world. You swallow around nothing as you watch the ripples of his muscles move with his breath.
Who knew you were going to wake up to this delicious sight?
You move quietly, shuffling to the bathroom to pee and freshen up. You felt miles better than you did last night. You felt even better as the memories come back to you. Your boyfriend really took a stand for you.
When you walk out the bathroom, you don’t expect Miguel to be sitting up on the edge of the bed, bed head and sleepy eyes.
“Are you up? I didn’t mean to wake you,” you say, voice light and soft.
“I moved over and you weren’t there,” Miguel yawned. “Couldn’t go back to sleep ‘till I found out where you went.”
You shuffle to his side of the bad, “Just went to the bathroom.”
He opened his legs and pulled you in. He laid his head on your chest, kissing the skin through the fabric as placed his hands on your ass.
“G’morning,” he said, voice scratchy.
“Morning to you too,” you said while scratching his head.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, peering up at you.
You give him a small smile, “I’m feeling better.”
“Yeah?”
You nod your head, bringing your hands to the nape of his neck. You twirl your finger is his hair absentmindedly.
He puckers his lips, waiting expectantly. You giggle and lean down pecking his lips.
GymRat!Miguel who hurries and brushes his teeth, wanting to continue this mood. You were rocking one of his shirts and some panties. He still wanted to see if the offer from last night was still up.
GymRat!Miguel who crowds your space on the bed, hovering over you as he kisses your lips. He’s feeling particularly ravenous and all he wants is you. Your grip on his shoulders becomes tighter as he slots his tongue in your mouth.
GymRat!Miguel who is definitely a virgin. Sure, he spent his free time researching how to make you feel good. He even shyly asked Peter for advice. It still doesn’t negate the fact that he has put none of these things to use.
He pauses as things start to get even more heated, sharing this news with you. You’re a little shocked but you promise him it’s fine to take it slow. You have never done penetrative sex with anyone either. Feeling more relaxed, he dives right back in.
GymRat!Miguel who has you grinding above him. Your clothed sex slides against his, two layers of cotton separating you both. You’re whining against mouth as he moves your hips. He’s humming at every noise you make.
As much as he wants to go further, he has a need to fulfill your desire first.
Plus, he was dumb enough not to bring a condom.
He opens his mouth to take a nipple in through your sweater. It’s thick, but he sucks hard enough to get the job done. He watches as you tilt your head back and moan loader, hips stuttering.
Miguel watches you in awe. He’s never seen you like this before. So needy for him. It was a contrast to how you usually let him take, take, take.
He moves quick to lay you on top of him, finally getting his dream of you over him.
“Miguel?” you ask, wary of your weight.
“Nuh uh, baby keep going. Don’t stop,” Miguel says, swerving your hip along his.
You fall down from a sharp buck of Miguel’s hips, moaning from the friction and holding your hands against the headboard.
Miguel was in heaven watching you roll your hips faster and faster.
GymRat!Miguel who flips you over as soon as you come. He is grinding better against as you lay on your back. Your tits ate bouncing under his sweater with every jerk. He wanted to take it off, but you were still a bit self-conscious.
For now, it was fine because you looked so good in his clothes, nipples hard and ready just for him to devour. In the future, he hoped to have you see how beautiful you are in his eyes.
You’re sensitive, thighs tightening around his waist. He softly moves one of them, gaining better access for his bulge to slide against your clothed clit.
“Miguel!” you cry, voice high.
“Give me another one, come on,” he says, mouth moving to your ear. “You’re doing so good. Just need one more.”
He feels you nod your head, arms wrapping around his neck.
You yell his name as you come again, thighs shaking.
GymRat!Miguel who comes through his underwear on top of you. He pulls your sweater up a tad to watch some liquid pool on your stomach.
“Fuck,” he heaves, smearing it with his thumb. You were fluttering against him softly.
You were laid out under him coming down from your high. Your breaths were slowing down and you were looking at him, blissed out.
This was better than his dream.
He rubbed up and down your bare thighs, watching as they twitched when he grazed your inner thighs. He walked his fingers down to your panties, running his knuckles over your mound. The fabric was wet, evidence of what you two just did.
He starts to pull the fabric tight, watching as your folds imprint through the cotton.
What a pretty sight. Your body so open with his cum on your smooth skin.
Mine. All mine.
He’s about to press against your clit again until you say something.
“Huh?” Miguel asks, in a daze.
“I asked if you could go get a wet towel,” you say.
“Shit. I’m so sorry, baby,” he says, frantic movements as he hobbled out of the bed. He was acting like an idiot, gawking at you instead of talking.
GymRat!Miguel who realizes that he put you both in a sticky situation as he wipes your stomach off.
“It’s fine. ‘Was hot,” you whisper, completely flushed.
“Yeah? You liked it?” Miguel asked, giddy.
You nod your head, “You made me feel really good, so yes, I did like it.”
“Is that so?” Miguel mumbles, leaning close to your face. “Might have to do more next time.”
“More? Like what?”
“Like finally getting you to sit on my face,” he says in your ear. He finally got you to put your weight on him, all he needed was that final push.
“Oh my god,” you drone, covering your face dramatically.
“What? Baby, it’ll be so fun! I promise!”
GymRat!Miguel who finally checks his phone while you both wait on room service.
Abuela 💕:
“Miguelito!”
“Call me when you can!”
“dile a mi muñeca que mi casa es su casa!” (tell my doll that my home is her home)
“And I don’t want any new grandbabies so soon so control yourself”
Pa:
“Miguel I hope you can forgive your mother”
“She needs some time”
“I’ll be sure to talk to her”
“It was also lovely to meet your girlfriend”
“I’m proud of you mijo”
Gabri 🤏🏽🤡:
“Bro”
“You missed SO MUCH!”
“BDHDHDHDJEBE”
“I wish I could have streamed it”
“Tyler SWUNG KRON’S BODY TO THE SIDE….”
“Ok no but fr”
“It’s def confirmed that you’re Tyler’s favorite 🤷🏽‍♂️”
“Kron got socked in the mouth by Tyler”
“That’s def where you get your punches from ngl”
“OMG”
“Did you know that Nancy cheated on Tyler first?”
“Crazy. Ik. You don’t have to say anything”
“Anyway”
“Tell my girl I said gn 😁 her breakfast in bed will be waiting on her”
Dana:
“Your dad’s kinda hot”
“Tyler not George”
“But you know who’s hotter?”
“Your gf”
“Give her my number. Plz and ty”
Dad….Tyler:
“Son I sincerely apologize for this terrible evening.”
“Kron will be reprimanded. No need to worry about that. You only taught him a valuable lesson in reality.”
“If I can, may I make it up to you?”
“I added a few more days to the hotel.”
“And my doors are, of course, always open to you.”
“Please reach out to me soon.”
Ma:
“Miguel please come home”
“I need to talk to you”
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divider by: @plutism + @benkeibear 🩵
a/n: AHHH! If you're reading this, then this (hopefully) means that I have finished and turned in my Senior Thesis 🥺. As a gift, please tell me you how you feel. You guys have been so kind to me on here, so I hope you enjoy today's chapter. There are more great things coming soon!
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taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @slushycoookie @emelie-s-h @lake-lili
@obsessed-with-miguels-ass @scaleniusrm @superiorspiderass @lexluvswriting
@flordelalunas @froggygal @vmpz8sauceee @famouscattale @nixinluv02
@jada-of-arcadia @spideykid22 @what-the-jams @julia4today @tojishugetiddies
@samjinxx @sleeklyalisha @the-pan-liquid @prongs-lover @kikaaauu
@urlocallocachica @wanderlustingcastaway @peachey-pie @ch3rry-bl1ss @girl-of-multi-fandoms
@love-kha1 @manlikemilesmyguy @sillysillygoofygoose @monticellohoe @kodzuminx
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838 notes · View notes
sweetlyxaqq09 · 18 days ago
Text
THE KILLER'S PAUSE
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Pairing: fem!reader x sunwon
Summary- When two ghostface killers, Sunoo and Jungwon, kill for fun but get distracted by one of their victims.
Mentions: violence, bullying, death, psychotic, rough!sex, knifeplay, blood, psychological horror, threesome, hairpulling, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, blowjob, fear play, dark manipulation, toxic behavior, talking through orgasm, sadism, passing out, slapping, nipple play, eating cum, choking , terrifying ending, mean!sunwon.
Author's note- Hi! This is my very first time writing a fanfic, so please show a lot of love.♡Please ignore any grammatical mistakes, as English is not my first language.This fanfic is inspired by the movie Scream, though the Ghostface elements are less prominent.If you don’t enjoy this type of fanfic, please kindly back off.Hate comments will be deleted!
For better experience play this playlist♡
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Sunoo's expression twisted with frustration, the knife glinting in his hand as he leaned closer to the girl. "For fuck sake, stop moving. You're only making it harder on yourself, It’s only going to make things worse for you." he hissed through gritted teeth, his eyes narrowing.
Jungwon, standing just a step away, glanced over at Sunoo before looking back at the girl with a detached expression. " i don't know why we are still playing with her?" Just end it already. I’m getting bored. She's all broken now"
The girl's breathing quickened, her throat tight with fear. She strained against the grip on her leg, desperation fueling her every movement. "Please..." she choked out, her voice shaking, "I'm begging you... don't do this...
The air in the room grew heavier, as if the very walls were closing in. The girl, trembling on the cold floor, tried to shuffle away, but sunoo grabbed her by the ankle, pulling her back toward him with an unsettling ease. He hovered over her, his expression unreadable, and slowly traced the edge of the knife near her collarbone, letting the sharp tip graze her skin without making contact.
His voice was low, almost a whisper,
"You should have stayed still. Now you're just... a target."
Jungwon clicked his tongue, stepping closer and circling her like a predator. "It's almost sad, you know?" he said, his voice calm and methodical. "You were so pretty when we brought you here. But now you're just a mess. Dirty and Worthless."
Jungwon's gaze piercing through the girl. He seemed bored, waiting for something to happen. "I'm just done with her, Sunoo. Do it already."
Sunoo glanced at Jungwon, who had been watching in silence, waiting for the moment to end. "You want to take care of it, Jungwon?" Sunoo asked with a smirk, enjoying the sick game.
Jungwon shrugged nonchalantly, his expression unwavering. "Nah, I'm good. Let's just finish it. It's taking too long."
The girl’s breathing quickened as she realized the depth of their cold indifference. She flinched when Sunoo’s knife brushed dangerously close to her skin. She could hear his quiet chuckle as he dragged the blade lower, almost playfully, while Jungwon leaned in with a sinister calmness, watching her every move.
Sunoo stabbed her several times, each blow weakening her until she could no longer move. Her body went limp, and her breath slowed to nothing. Sunoo stepped back, staring down at her, his face cold and expressionless for a moment. Then, a small, unsettling smile crept across his lips.
She was dead now. The pain had stopped, the struggle had ended, and there was nothing left but silence. Her body lay still, no more painfull moans or gasps for breath, no more attempts to fight back. Her body, now still and unrecognizable from the person she had been moments before, lay lifeless on the ground.
She wasn’t much fun," sunoo said, his voice dripping with indifference. "Kept moving, making it harder to enjoy the whole thing. I didn’t even get one clean stab."
Sunoo shrugged, unfazed. "No big deal. We’ll find someone else. Clean up the mess and get rid of her. I’m going to find someone more... entertaining."
Jungwon nodded, his expression neutral. "Yup, I’ll take care of it."
sunoo wandered through the forest, looking for the next victim to play with. His eyes scanning the shadows, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his lips. Then, he spotted her—a girl, lost and disoriented, stumbling through the trees. She looked like an easy target, and he saw an opportunity.
Y/N, her voice trembling, called out into the darkness, "Hey! Do you know where the road goes? I’ve been wandering through this creepy forest for more than an hour. I came with my friends for camping, but I got separated, and now it’s late... Can you help me?"
Sunoo stepped closer, his voice calm, almost too sweet. “Of course, I can help. It’s dangerous out here at night.” He took a deliberate step forward, his eyes dark with an unsettling gleam. "It’s too late to be out here alone. Why don’t you come to my place? You can rest, get warm, and in the morning, we can figure out how to get you back to your friends."
Y/N hesitated, her heart racing as her instincts screamed at her to be cautious. She was alone, lost in the dark, but something in his words felt almost... soothing.
Sunoo, sensing her hesitation, stepped even closer, his smile widening. “Come on, just for one night. It’s dark, and you don’t know what could happen to you out here. I could help... you just have to trust me.”
Y/N felt the tension in the air, her mind battling between fear and need for safety. She wasn’t sure, but the temptation of warmth and shelter was too strong. “O-okay,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Sunoo chuckled softly, his eyes flickering with something darker now. "Good choice. Trust me, you'll be safer with me."
Sunoo walked alongside her through the forest, his voice sweet but his words carrying an unsettling weight. “It’s good that you trusted me, you know. A lot of people wouldn’t have, but you did. Smart choice.”
Y/N glanced at him, a shiver creeping up her spine, but she tried to brush it off. “I don’t know... I was just worried about being lost out here alone.”
Sunoo’s eyes narrowed slightly, his smile never fading. “You should be. The woods aren’t safe at night. Especially with things like... him, lurking around.”
Y/N frowned, her steps slowing. “Who? What do you mean by ‘things like him’?”
Sunoo leaned in closer, lowering his voice as though sharing a secret. “There’s a killer roaming around. He wears a ghost face mask—completely black clothing, and he’s always carrying a sharp knife. There’s no telling when he might strike.”
Y/N laughed nervously, but a knot formed in her stomach. “A killer? Are you serious? That sounds like something out of a horror movie. You’re messing with me, right?”
Sunoo’s face remained serious, his eyes gleaming with a strange intensity. “I’m serious. People go missing around here. It’s better to be cautious.”
Y/N stopped walking for a moment, a chill running through her veins. “Are you... are you saying that killer could be around here right now?”
Sunoo grinned slightly, his voice almost playful. “Maybe. You never know, do you?”
Y/N tried to laugh it off, but her heartbeat quickened, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. She glanced around the dark trees, a sense of paranoia settling in. “So... are you telling me that killer is nearby?” she said jokingly.
Sunoo’s smile widened, his eyes glinting “Maybe. It could be me also. After all, I’ve got the mask, the knife... I could be the one you’ve been running from all along.”
Y/N felt a wave of unease wash over her. “I think you’re joking, but it’s not funny anymore.”
Sunoo stopped walking, turning to face her fully. His voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m not joking. And you should really be careful. Who knows? Maybe you’re walking right into it.”
The air grew colder, and Y/N’s footsteps faltered as she turned around, suddenly feeling like she was being watched. Was it just her imagination, or was something moving in the shadows? Her heart pounded louder in her chest.
She spun around quickly, sunoo was gone. A sickening sense of fear gripped her as she stood frozen. The sound of her racing heartbeat filled her ears. She didn’t know what was real anymore. Was he messing with her? Or was it something more?
Then, from behind her, Sunoo’s voice called out, almost as if from a distance. “I’m coming for you!” With a knife in his hand and with the ghost face costume exactly like how sunoo told y/n about.
Desperately, she turned and began running. Her breath came in sharp gasps, and the darkness around her seemed to close in as the trees blurred by. She didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop. The thought of being out there, alone in the woods with... whatever that was, was too terrifying.
The chase was on as she heard Sunoo's psychotic laughter echoing through the dark forest, sending chills down her spine.
Y/N’s breath came in ragged gasps as her legs burned with exhaustion. Her pace had slowed, no matter how much she willed herself to keep running. Sunoo was right behind her now, his presence suffocating.
Before she could take another step, a sharp yank on her hair sent her crashing to the ground. A sharp cry escaped her lips as her body hit the dirty ground.
"Aww, poor thing" Sunoo mocked. He leaned down, his voice dripping with amusement. "I have to admit, watching you struggle was entertaining.'"
As Y/N struggled to regain her strength, she suddenly pushed herself up and bolted, her legs moving faster than she thought possible. The sudden burst of energy caught Sunoo off guard, his smirk faltering for a split second as he watched her slip from his grasp.
She ran, the adrenaline pushing her forward until she saw it—a house in the distance with lights on. She made a beeline for it, her feet pounding against the earth, until she reached the front door and banged desperately on it.
Sunoo whispered to himself, "Ah... now this is where the real fun begins." He let out a dark chuckle, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "You just made this easier for me... No more games now.
The door creaked open, revealing Jungwon, looking startled but confused. “Who are you? Are you okay? What’s going on?”
Y/N, panting heavily, barely able to get the words out, stammered, “Someone... someone chased me! They were wearing a ghost face mask, He tried to kill me!”
Jungwon’s brow furrowed in confusion. “A ghost face mask? Are you sure?”
Y/N nodded frantically, her hands shaking. “Yes! It’s real! He was right behind me!”
Jungwon stepped back slightly, his face becoming unreadable. “Hold on. Calm down for a second.” He looked at her carefully before turning toward the inside of the house. “Are you sure it was a ghost mask? "Because... if it looked like this... we’ve got a problem.”
He stepped aside, revealing the very same ghost face mask she had described. Y/N froze, her breath catching in her throat as her eyes went wide. “No... no, this can’t be happening. Not here. Not now.”
Jungwon stepped forward, his voice calm yet chilling. "It's real. You're not safe here."
Before she could say another word, the door creaked open wider, and another figure stepped inside—the very same ghost face mask, only this time it was Sunoo. Her blood ran cold.
No... no... no!” she gasped, backing away, her vision blurring with panic. She turned and rushed toward the door, desperate to escape, but before she could grab the handle, Jungwon grabbed her by the arm, yanking her back roughly
Just as she tried to turn, a sudden pain shot through her head. Jungwon had yanked her hair harshly, slammed her to the floor, the sharp tug caused her vision to swim. She could barely keep her balance as her head spun from the pain. The world around her felt distant, as if she were drifting in and out of reality.
The world around her spun out of control, and with a final, breathless gasp, she fainted, her body going limp in Jungwon’s arms.
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Y/N's head throbbed as she regained consciousness, blinking her eyes open. The dimly lit room sent a chill down her spine. Her arms and legs were bound tightly, the ropes biting into her skin with every attempt to wriggle free. Panic set in, her heart pounding as she remembered running for her life in the woods.
The sound of footsteps broke the silence, and the door creaked open. Sunoo strolled in, wearing an infuriatingly playful smirk, followed by Jungwon, whose calm, almost nonchalant demeanor was unnerving.
"look who's awake! I was starting to get bored waiting for you to wake up" sunoo teased, He tilted his head, studying her struggles. "Hmmm... I know the ropes are tight, but bear with it, okay? If you behave like a good girl, I might loosen them for you."
"You!" Y/N hissed, glaring at him. "I thought you'd help me, but you're nothing but a traitor!"
"Traitor?" Sunoo gasped mockingly, placing a hand on his chest. "That's such a mean word. I prefer... Ghostface killer.
Her breath hitched as she stared at him in disbelief.
"No... you can't be... you're the Ghostface killer?"
"Bingo!" Sunoo said cheerfully, his smirk growing wider.
Sunoo tilted his head with a small, satisfied smile, nodding as if he were proud of her realization.
"Yes, yes, it's me!"
He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper.
"The person you begged for help and The one who chased you in the woods? That was me"
"No way!" she yelled, her voice trembling.
"You bastard! Let me go! Don't you see this is wrong?"
Jungwon, who had been silently watching from the side, took a step forward. His movements were slow and calculated, his presence suddenly feeling much heavier in the room.
"What's wrong, huh?" he asked, crouching in front of her. His hand shot out, grabbing her jaw harshly and forcing her to look at him. "We're just going to have some fun. That's all.
Her voice shook as she demanded, "Fun? What kind of fun? Aren't you two going to kill me?"
"You?" Jungwon chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Kill you? Oh no, not yet. You're far too pretty to die so early."
"You're insane!" she whispered, trying to move her face out of his grip. "Psychotic!"
"Psychotic?" Sunoo raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. "That's not very nice. We're giving you so much of our time and attention. Shouldn't you be a little more grateful?"
At least we're not killing you right away. That's something to be thankful for, isn't it?" Jungwon said.
"Thankful?" she snapped, her voice growing louder. "You're delusional! You both are sinners filthy, disgusting bastards!
"Ouch! that hurts" Jungwon said mockingly, pretending to be hurt. He looked at Sunoo, his smirk widening.
"Did you hear that? She said we're disgusting bastards. Who talks like that?
Sunoo crossed his arms, nodding as if deeply offended.
"I know, right? We go out of our way to make this fun for her, and this is the thanks we get? Unbelievable."
She glared at them both, her breathing heavy.
"And how could I forget you? You're also the Ghostface killer, aren't you?" Y/N said while glaring at Jungwon
His eyes lit up in amusement as he crouched closer, his smirk widening.
"Aww, you remembered me. How cute."
He tilted her chin up, his grip rough but calculated.
"And here I thought you'd only focus on Sunoo. I guess I made quite the impression, huh?"
"You're both insane!" she yelled, struggling even harder against the ropes. "This is wrong! My freinds will come looking for me, you won't get away with this!"
"Won't get away with it?" Jungwon repeated, chuckling softly. "Oh, we've already gotten away with so much. What makes you think this time will be any different?"
"She's so noisy, never stops talking. Jungwon. It's like she can't keep quiet for a second. Don’t you think?" Sunoo said, being frustrated.
"I know, But don’t worry, I have plans for that pretty mouth of hers. Trust me She won’t be talking much longer, not when we put it to better use." Jungwon said with a smirk.
I can’t help but wonder how she’ll react when we take control. Sunoo said
"Oh, she'll react, alright. But not in the way she expects. We’ll make her completely at our mercy, we will make her surrender to us. She'll have no choice but to give in to our demands, and all she can do is wait for what comes next." Jungwon said
"This is going to be fun"
Sunoo smirked, his gaze sharp yet teasing.
"Now, now, don't make us regret setting you free," sunoo purred, leaning closer to y/n's face, while untieing her hands."You wouldn't want to disappoint us, would you?" Sunoo asked her.
Jungwon's voice was softer, almost mockingly gentle as he stepped forward, tilting your chin up with his fingers. "We’ve been so kind, haven’t we? All we ask is for you to behave." His lips curled into a sly grin. "Be a good girl, and take what we give you, right,?"
“Answer us,” Jungwon demanded, his tone dropping to something that sent a shiver down your spine. He leaned back slightly, studying you like a predator gauging its prey. “Will you behave… or do we need to remind you how we handle disobedience?”
Your voice was barely above a whisper, but you managed to nod slightly. “I’ll behave…”
“Words, i need words,” Sunoo said with a soft laugh, his hand moving to cup your face. His touch was firm but not harsh, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “We need to hear you say it. Loud and clear.”
“I’ll behave,” you finally said, your voice steady but your cheeks burning under their gazes.
Jungwon smirked, clearly satisfied. “Good,” he said simply.
Sunoo’s laugh was soft but full of mischief as he leaned even closer. “And trust me,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear, “you’re going to love every second of it.”
Your heart raced as the intensity of their stares sent shivers down your spine. Jungwon chuckled darkly, the sound dripping with amusement. "Looks like she understands," Jungwon said, his voice low but filled with mischief. "I wanna see how obedient you are". Jungwon said.
"Now Get the fuck on your knees! Unbuckle my fucking belt like the good little whore you are. You better know what's fucking coming next - my massive cock so far down your throat and you're gagging." Jungwon said mockingly
"Please, no, please don't make me do this!" Y/n sobbed, her face contorted in anguish. "My friends, they'll be worried for me. They're probably searching for me right now. Please, I'm begging you, let me go!" Y/n begged
"Rolling his eyes dismissively, Jungwon snapped, "Calm yourself, would you? Your incessant whining is giving me a migraine. Behave, and perhaps I'll consider letting you skulk off to your little friends. But mark my words, one more outburst and you'll regret it.'"
With choked sobs, Yn silently obeyed Jungwon. She bit her lip to stifle any further noise, her small frame trembling with silent sobs.
Yn slowly pushed his pants down, exposing a thick, stone-hard cock that stood proudly upright. Her breath caught in her throat as she took in its impressive length, her eyes tracing every vein that popped along its surface. Jungwon's smirk deepened as he noticed her terrified awe.
His tip was already glistening with pre-cum
"'Think you can handle it?' Jungwon growled, his hips bucking slightly, making his massive length jump. Yn's eyes snapped down to watch the monster between his legs. She swallowed hard, 'It's too big, it won't fit", she whimpered.
"I will make it fit, Now Stop fuckin' around and suck my dick already,' Jungwon snarled, grabbing a fistful of Yn's hair and shoving her face towards his towering erection. "Open wide, slut or I'll shove it down your pretty throat. I'm gonna wreck your throat with this big fuckin' cock. That slutty mouth of yours needs a purpose".
"And If you even fuckin' dare to graze my dick with those goddamn teeth," Jungwon snarled, "I swear to God, I'll snap your neck and use this knife to carve your pretty face up. Suck it like a good little whore."
"'I'll try,' Yn stammered, her voice shaking with fear as she parted her lips. Jungwon yanked her head forward, forcing his massive cock past her trembling lips. Yn's eyes watered as she struggled to accommodate his girth, her throat constricting around the imposing length.
"Jesus, look at those pretty fucking eyes watering," Jungwon groaned, holding her head still as he hilted himself deep in her throat. "Tryin' to fit this whole monster cock, aren't ya? Fuck, your lips look good wrapped around my dick."
His massive hands fisted in Yn's hair, Jungwon viciously shoved his entire length down her throat, stretching her jaw wide. She gagged and choked around his thick meat, her eyes bulging as he brutally face-fucked her.
"Fuck..." he moaned, tilting his head back in ecstasy. "Your mouth... Jesus Christ, this is the best fuckin' blowjob ever."
"Damn," Sunoo muttered under his breath, watching Jungwon pound into the girl's mouth. "She looks like she's taking it so deep,"
His grip on her hair tightened as he controlled her movements, slamming his cock deeper into her throat with each thrust.
You patted his thighs softly to stop, but he was too consumed by pleasure. "I'm gonna...cum" "Fuckin' Christ..." he grunted, pulling out sharply. A sticky thread of saliva stretched between your lips and his leaking cock. "Look at that nasty fucking spit rope, you filthy little whore," he spat, watching his cum drip from your mouth.
Sunoo unconsciously adjusted himself. "I wonder what she tastes like..." He murmured, his own arousal growing.
"Fuck! Let me have her now." Sunoo excitedly
"I've been hardcore fucking SALIVATING over this girl's pussy. I wanna shove my face between her thighs and tongue-fuck her until she soaks my whole fucking face. I wanna taste every drop of her fucking pussy juice!" sunoo said.
"N-no,! P-please, don't! I-I'm begging you, let me go!" The girl struggles and pleads, her face flushed with humiliation and fear.
Sunoo glares up at the girl, his grip tightening on her thighs. "Fuck me, you're really fucking it up here. Just shut your damn mouth, bitch, and lemme eat your cunt already." He leans in closer, his voice dripping with vulgar menace.
"Open those fucking legs wider! Sunoo can't get his tongue deep enough in that tight cunt of yours." Jungwon snaps, giving the girl's inner thighs a harsh slap. "Spread 'em, whore."
With a snarl, Sunoo buries his face between the girl's thighs, his tongue forcing its way into her soaked pussy. He licks and sucks at her cunt aggressively, ignoring her struggles and screams. "Fuck yeah".
Sunoo's face is a mess as he devours the girl's pussy, his tongue fucking her cunt rough and dirty. He slurps and gags on her juices, his nose buried in her soaked folds. "Mmmph, fucking hell, you're a damn cunt dumpster, ain't ya?"
Sunoo pulls back, his face coated in the girl's juices, and forces a rough, open-mouthed kiss onto her lips. He shoves his tongue into her mouth, making her taste herself. "Mmph, fuck, taste that pussy.
As Y/N tries to avoid him, but eventually fails.
"The fuck you avoiding for? taste your fuckin' cunt juice, forcefully pushes tongue into her mouth while mashing their faces together "Spit it out, bitch. That's your fuckin' pussy taste right there. runs tongue along her teeth.
As Sunoo continues to force his rough, open-mouthed kiss onto the girl, she suddenly feels two fingers suddenly shoved deep inside her pussy by Jungwon. She tries to moan, but her pain-filled cries are all muffled by Suno's mouth, her screams swallowed by him.
Jungwon's fingers curl inside her, hitting that spot that makes her want to double over in pain. He spits in his palm before rubbing it onto her swollen folds, making her whimper into Sunoo's mouth. "Damn, she's so tiny,"
He adds another finger, the sudden stretch burning as he forcefully pumps them in and out, fucking her with his hand while Sunoo holds her mouth open, his tongue swirling around hers, collecting her spit and juices.
"Fuck, look at that tiny cunt, it's barely big enough for one of our dicks, Sunoo chuckles, leaning back to look at the girl's struggling form. "I'm wondering how she's even gonna survive getting stretched open by our fucking massive cocks." Sunoo said while laughing.
"You know what the worst part is?" Jungwon laughs darkly, pushing his fingers deeper inside her, making her yelp. "She probably can't even take a dick without splitting open. I bet she's one of those tight little whores who screams 'It's too big!"
Sunoo bursts into laughter, leaning in close to whisper in the girl's ear. "Better hope you can take it, slut, 'cause if not, it's gonna fuckin' ruin you. Imagine how stupid you'd look, crying and begging while we rape your tiny pussy raw anyway."
As Jungwon's fingers viciously worked inside her, Sunoo's face was now buried between her small, perky breasts, drool dripping down his chin as he sucked and bit, his fingers digging painfully into the other. The girl mewled softly, trying to snap her legs shut, but Jungwon slapped her inner thighs, biting them roughly to keep her spread open.
"I think she's prepared now to take our dicks, I can't fucking wait anymore," Jungwon growls, his patience wearing thin. "Let's just shove our fucking massive cocks inside her and see if she can even handle it."
They both try to fit inside her at once, one into her from the front while the other brutalizes her tiny pussy from behind." She gags and moans, her body stretched painfully around their massive sizes. "ahhh" Y/N Moaned painfully.
"Calm down, will you?" Jungwon said through gritted teeth as the both of them attempted to slide their dicks into her tight, holes. "Fuck, she's so damn small," Jungwon hissed, pushing harder against the resistance.
As they both start moving she feels something wet between her legs, she realizes with horror that it's blood, her tiny holes unable to withstand the brutal assault of the two monstrous cocks pounding her simultaneously. "Shit, I think we're tearing the bitch up," sunoo said mockingly.
"Please, no more ahhhh! it hurts, Jungwon grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Is that how you beg, you little slut?" He sneered. "Try again!"
Her screams turn to gurgles both dicks in blood and as both cocks explodes her pussy, sending bloody chunks of her shredded insides out with each brutal thrust. They keep fucking her, their cocks coated in her blood and gore.
Sunoo, who was fucking her from behind, brings his hand down to rub her overstimulated clit vigorously, she screams in agony. He then brings his fingers to his mouth, tasting her sweet cum and blood, his fingers fully coated in the messy mixture. "Fuck, even her blood is delicious". His mouth is full of her cum and blood.
Jungwon grabbed her roughly by the hair, forcing a brutal, dominating kiss upon her lips as both men's cocks continued to relentlessly pound into her battered holes. "Goddamn," Jungwon growled against her mouth, squeezing her cheeks painfully.
After few thrusts they both were on the verge of Cumming.
"Ahhh fuck, I'm cumming! I think" Sunoo groaned loudly, his thrusts becoming erratic. "Me too!" Jungwon grunted, slamming into her one last time. They pushed deep and held themselves inside her as they both exploded together. "Shit, yeah!"
"She looks damn good with our cum leaking down our legs from destroying that tiny cunt," Jungwon remarked with a satisfied smirk, admiring the sight of their mixed loads slowly dripping from her abused holes.
She wept uncontrollably, feeling as though sharp claws were tearing her insides apart. As Sunoo noticed her tears, he dramatically licked them away, drawling, "Hey, hey, stop crying already.'"
"Look at you, sprawled out like a fucking souless body. At least we hadn't killed you yet. You should be kissing our feet for keeping you alive, you piece of shit.'" Jungwon mocked.
"She's completely fucked now. What are we gonna do with her?" Sunoo asked Jungwon.
"Hmph... I'm bored. Might as well kill her. Even her pretty face is not pretty anymore now as before" Jungwon said.
As Sunoo pulled out the knife from his pocket and donned his ghostface mask, he towered over her. She couldn't muster the strength to fight back, completely broken and used up. He positioned the knife directly over her heart, ready to end her life in an instant.
He sneered beneath his mask, voice dripping with cruel amusement." Last words, bitch? Or should I just shut that stupid mouth of yours permanently?" Sunoo's grip tightened on the knife, the blade glinting menacingly under the dim light as he hovered mere inches from her fragile heart.
She stared up at him, eyes wide with terror but also a flicker of defiance. Her voice came out as a weak, raspy whisper, "Fuck you..."
Sunoo let out a cold, mirthless laugh. "Fuck you too, whore." With a swift, brutal motion, he plunged the knife deep into her heart. Blood spurted out, painting his mask and hands red as she let out a final, gurgled scream.
He twisted the knife, savoring the feeling of her heart giving out. Her eyes rolled back, and she went limp beneath him. Sunoo pulled the blade out, wiping it clean on her tattered clothes. He looked up at Jungwon, a grim smile on his masked face " Done". Sunoo smiled darkly
He traced her blood across his face, a twisted smile curling on his lips.
As Sunoo removed his mask and wiped his face, he only managed to smear more blood across his features. He smirked psychotically, his eyes gleaming with a deranged light as he stood over the lifeless body, his hands and face stained with her blood.
"If she didn't beg for help, she might've gotten away... But whatever.' takes a drag " Jungwon said.
'Hmm... still, she was pretty entertaining while struggling though...' sunoo smirks creepily, staring at Y/n's lifeless body.
"Take care of the body" sunoo said to Jungwon.
"Should I burn it? Bury it? Chop it up?" Jungwon smirks darker.
"Just dispose of it properly, fuck. Don't get any ideas" sunoo said.
"Cruel, isn’t it? We used you like a worthless fuck toy, nothing more than a plaything for desperate, horny killes. And just like the rest, you begged, you cried—pathetic. But in the end? You were nothing but another nameless, broken victim, discarded like trash." Jungwon spoke with a sadistic gleam in his eyes.
As the twisted cycle of killing and madness continued, each new victim became just another piece of trash.
___________________________________________
Few months later
"According to disturbing reports surface of numerous bodies found in the forest, the majority being young girls. Among the victims, one in particular stands out - Yn her body bearing the most brutal signs of assault".
"Investigations revealed that the Ghostface murders were committed by two individuals, not one. Both wore black clothes and ghostface masks.' 2. 'Forensic evidence pointed to two killers behind the Ghostface crimes. They were always seen dressed alike in black and wearing ghostface masks".
"One is named Sunoo, the other Jungwon. Their backgrounds reveal a troubling history, having escaped from a mental hospital where they were being treated for severe mental health issues. Reports indicate they suffered from mind problems, essentially making them psychopaths".
"The investigation into the Ghostface murders continues, with authorities working tirelessly. As the search for these two dangerous psychopaths persists, the public is urged to stay safe".
"This is Mia, your reporter, signing off until the next update!"
TAGS♡
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allthelovenina · 8 months ago
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Sweet
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Levi helps his wife with the heavy breasts after the pregnancy-
NOT SFW, minors do not interact, +18
Warning: lactating, slight mommy kink
"W...what do you mean?" She flustered as the blush spread all over her face. He felt proud that after all this time, he could still make her blush and fluster.
"Didn't you just say your body produces too much for the baby? That..." he continued in a mocking tone "they feel heavy and sore?"
"I...I'm not sure if it works b...but..." The idea made her feel the heat growing between her thighs. She wasn't sure if sucking the milk out of her breasts would help with the heaviness and soreness but damn she wanted to try it with her husband.
Levi had already put his 3-month-old daughter to sleep in the other room, Gabbie and Falco had already left after helping Levi with packing the tea leaves for his teashop so they had the whole night.
"I won't do anything you feel even slightly uncomfortable with." He sat next to her on the bed as she was lying on the bed with her back facing the wall behind her. She removed her shirt and bra in no time and threw them on the floor. "Do it."
Levi's expression remained the same but teasing tone if his voice was now somehow taunting. "My, my, someone's eager."
"It's been a while since the last time." She whispered so quietly he almost didn't hear it. The man got closer and closer, left a kiss on his wife's forehead and then moved down to her nose, chin and lastly, her lips. He felt electrified by the touch and she could feel her heartbeat fastening. He moved his head to deepen the kiss, his hands were now playing with her hair.
She broke the kiss to catch her breath, as she was sucking the air into her lungs, Levi's lips met her nipple and she gasped.
He gave her nipple a little suction, which filled his mouth with the sweet, warm liquid. A small moan escaped from his mouth as he felt the soft flesh of her nipple combined with the ecstatic taste. He devoured her as if he was starving for this moment for a very long time.
He pulled back to pull her panties down, his wife was a hot mess. All red and sweaty, holding back her moans with her hand just to avoid waking their daughter up.
Her skirt was still on as he pulled it up, he started massaging her clit while attacking her other nipple. His jaw was moving and the suction grew harder. His eyes never left hers. Her body was more sensitive than before, maybe because they hadn't done it for a long time.
Their bodies missed each other.
It was getting harder and harder to keep her moans down, her hand grabbing his hair, pulling him closer, and yanking his hair at the same time while the other remained on her own mouth. She didn't want to wake her daughter.
She felt like she was getting closer and closer to the edge, her climax approaching. Levi let go of her nipple and stopped moving her fingers inside of her. He went down her, running his tongue on her folds, finally locking it on your clit, sucking it gently and started moving his fingers once again at a faster pace.
"L...Levi...please...please...I'm..." Before she could finish her sentence, the man pulled out his fingers and removed his tongue, only to switch them. Now his tongue was swirling in her as his fingers were once again on her clit, massaging it.
She cried out his name, throwing her head back. Her nipples were lactating again, the drops of the liquid, oozing down from her breast to her stomach, with his other hand, he gripped her breast and squeezed it, the liquid then squirted on her body and his face. She moaned loudly at the pressure and the sight, once again she was getting closer. Levi knew it already as her knees started to shiver.
Once she let put by a loud moan, calling his name, Levi let go of his grip and moved back to catch his breath.
Gosh he missed her.
With the back of his hand, he cleaned his mouth and his milky face. His wife was a panting mess when she leaned closer to him and started unbuttoning his shirt. Once his shirt was gone, her hands went to his belt, unbuckling it. He moved and pulled down his pants, with his pants pulled halfway down, her hands met his chest and she pushed him down on the bed he was sitting on.
His wife leaned and gave him a passionate kiss on his lips, his hands moved on her hips and buttocks under her skirt. She broke the kiss and went down on his neck, the scent of his soup reached her nasal. It had been a while since the last time she was here. What had started with innocent ghostly kisses on his neck escalated into wet kisses, sucking his skin and leaving red spots behind which would turn purple some time later.
His hand gripped her hair, he was growing impatient. The other hand travelled to her waistband and pulled down her skirt. She backed off and removed the skirt, throwing it god knows where.
"You're gonna kill me, y/n... ride me already."
She smirked, "You're so impatient, captain." Levi clicked his tongue in annoyance and rolled his eyes. She could swear he got even more handsome after the scars on his face. "And you're too cheeky for the person who was begging me a moment ago."
His replies never failed to catch her off guard, she remained silent, surrounded. Her hands started to work on his boxer, pulling out his cock, giving it some gentle stroke and smearing the precum all over it. "Hmm...you want my mouth or my hands?" You teased. "Or maybe...you don't have the patience for those?"
"Fuck...stop teasing me, woman. Just ride me already." He tried to hide the desperation in his voice which he failed as the last word basically turned into a beautiful moan.
She let out a breathy chuckle and stood on her knees, guiding his cock into her entrance and slowly, sank into it.
She moaned loudly and rested her hands on his chest to keep her balance. She waited a few moments to adjust to him once again. He felt like his cock was melting inside of her, and the room suddenly felt too hot for him, he just wanted to leave everything to his wife at this point, as he felt at her mercy. He missed being in her arms.
She started moving up and down, her moves started slowly, he watched as his cock would disappear into her and reappear once again. Again and again.
He looked up at her. Her breasts bounced as she sped up, her jaw dropped a little open and the O shape of her lips as his cock hit all the right spots. He moaned merely at the sight.
His hand which missed two fingers, rested on her hand and the other found its place on her nipple. Playing with it, teasing it, milking it. She was struggling not to scream at this point.
He felt his cum twitching, he was close. "Mommy...I'm...about to cum..." he said panting, fighting his life not to scream and moan. Which once again, he failed. Cause he was a moaning desperate thing under her touch.
"Cum inside again, baby."
Her hand reached to her clit, massaging it roughly, his eyes rolled back, and her pussy tightened around him which made him realize she was close too, he hold back for her to cum first. Once she reached her second orgasm while moaning uncontrollably, he threw his head back and for a moment, all he could see was white as he finished in her. A few moments passed as she slowly pulled his cock out of herself and laid next to her husband, panting.
He grabbed the paper towel on the nightstand, grabbed one, lifted her leg and cleaned her.
"Does your breasts feel less heavy?"
She let out a chuckle. "Totally."
"Tsk, I should wash the mattress, and you too."
"Go away, old man! I'm tired now."
He let out a scoff "Brat. I'll give you a moment but we should take a shower."
She rolled her eyes and nodded in silence as she rested her head on his scarred chest.
If he were to die at this moment, he'd die the happiest man alive.
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pearlescentparade · 26 days ago
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If its fine or im not bothering you but..
Can u pease do a forsaken elliot x reader where they own a baby pet chicken and is over protective of it? Id like a fluff :D
(Please please i rarely see forsaken x reader)
THIS IS SO RANDOM BUT SO CUTE OMG....
roost 🍕 elliot x reader fluff + a pet chicken💝
rush hour at builder brother's pizza is nothing short of hectic. lines upon lines of people are waiting to be served both inside and outside of the establishment, many of whom just got off work and simply opted for pizza dinner. elliot, being assigned to cook duty today, juggles between building pizzas and keeping an eye on the ones cooking in the oven. images of pizza or soda continue to pop up on the order screen ahead of him. everytime he submits an order onto the conveyor belt to the boxing station, another takes its place instantaneously. it feels almost never-ending.. but it's no biggie for builder brother's best employee!
at this point, elliot's working on auto-pilot. he doesn't even have to look as he tosses another pizza into the oven! maybe he should've though, because the fire alarm starts to blare. elliot winces and groans at the deafening noise interrupting his highly efficient workflow, a red tint flashing in the kitchen as it wailed.
what could've possibly set it off? he didn't accidentally throw a soda into an oven, did he? no, he hasn't done that since his rookie days... he'd know the difference between a whole pizza and a cold soda! and he most certainly didn't use any pizza with bugs crawling all over it...
oh well, only one way to find out.. elliot nabs the fire extinguisher on the wall near the door to the cashier area, aiming the nozzle and putting out the flames with the extinguishing agent. white chemical solution permeates throughout the room, and when it settles, elliot opens the pizza oven to discover the source of the problem...
a terrified, soot-covered, baby chicken.
"woah- hey little buddy! now's uh.. really not a good time to be in there.." he's quick to take the chicken out from the oven and gently plop it on the floor where it's safe. the chick chirps in distress, furiously flapping its wings at the pizza boy as he puts his hands up in defense. rightfully so, it almost got baked alive!
"hey, i'm- i'm sorry! truly! but how was i supposed a chicken was in the kitchen? ...how did you even get here in the first place??" seriously, nobody saw a whole animal waltz into the building and decide to say anything about it? the chicken only stares up at elliot, its big beady eyes peering into his soul. his heart twists at the sight. it's so young.. could it have been separated from it's momma? it's practically a lost baby.. and it wouldn't survive for very long by itself (considering that it has displayed absolutely zero survival instincts)... and you did say you want to get a pet...
opening the pocket of his work uniform, elliot securely stows away the baby chick. now that that's settled, it's time to hit the rest of these orders!
...
imagine your shock when your boyfriend comes home with a chick after texting you that he 'had a surprise for you'.
the creature fits in the size of your palm, as you both stare at each other with curiosity. "oh my- elliot, where did you get him from?! and why is he so dirty..." "i-i don't know, he just appeared while i was working! ...he uh.. must've rolled around in the oven charcoal. good thing i found him before anything happened, haha..!" nervously, he shrugs, hoping you don't prod deeper. while elliot hates lying to you, he would hate to tell you that he almost cooked the fella alive even more. you wouldn't let him hear the end of it.. "ohh, poor guy! let's get you cleaned up." as you march to the bathroom to run a bath for your new friend, elliot lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. he then trails after you, following you to the bathroom to help with cleaning the chick.
the chick splashes vigorously in the bubble bath as you attempt to wash out the dirt from between his feathers, excitedly zooming around the tub. from the sink, elliot supervises with instructions for how to clean a baby chicken pulled up on his phone. soon enough, you've completely gotten rid of all the soot and reverted him back to his sunny yellow coat.
"he's so small.. what if he gets hurt or sneaks off somewhere when we're not looking? oh, and he'll get colder much easier.." you express your worry with knitted brows as you carefully dry him off with a small cloth. for something his size, everything can be dangerous! even something as mundane as a ball could easily squish him if it lands on him. "maybe we oughta babyproof the house? i could ring up builderman tomorrow and ask him to install some baby gates to keep him from running everywhere! until then, we can use some makeshift stuff."
and so, operation: childproof the chick is a go. first things first, you need a way to know when he's on the move!
"look elliot! this collar has a bell and a bow!" "we might have to adjust it a bit considering how small the guy is... but he'd look so cute!"
all your doors and windows are to be tightly shut and locked at all times, so the chick can't slip out and get eaten by a hawk or something. and finally, double-check appliances before turning them on (elliot suggested this one). you considered having the little fella sleep with you in your bed, but the fear of accidentally squishing him when you roll over is very real. instead, he gets a small but well-furbished crib padded with blankets.
in the next few days, builderman comes over to help. all elliot told him is that you two wanted some extra security precautions. the engineer is all smiles and jokes until he reaches your shared bedroom and spots the crib.
"...now, i don't mean to pry into your guys'.. 'personal' business but, are you two er.. expecting?" elliot quirks an eyebrow, "expecting what?" builderman vaguely gestures with his hands, "y'know, any.. 'bundles of joy' on the way? i know kids these days are excited to settle down and all." "whaddya mean?" you and your boyfriend share a mutual confused look. cheeping emits from the crib, and as builderman peers into it, he realizes there's been a misunderstanding. "..ah, nevermind."
while you do have a baby, he's more of the feathery kind.
(parade postscript: just realized that about half of this drabble is only elliot and how he met the chicken </3 sorry)
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xenyasplacex · 6 months ago
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BABY TRAPPED PART 2
Chris Sturniolo x Fem!OC
Summary: Chris is in a toxic relationship and the only thing keeping him there is his daughter.
warning- Toxic relationship, Miserable Chris, Shouting, Abuse, Physical Abuse, emotional abuse, Talk of isolation, crying
A/N : Soooooo, it’s been a while! see my dumbass thought i posted this a few days ago but turns out i just saved it to drafts 😍😍😍
I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE STOLEN, REPOSTED OR TRANSLATED
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Part 1 <—> Part 3
Things had changed in Chris’ household. Chris knew that through his life there were going to be times where he had to sacrifice certain things he thought he couldn't live without if he wanted their marriage to work and so far he had sacrificed a lot. Sometimes he thought about how younger Chris would look at him now. He had let this woman completely take over his life. First he had to sacrifice his friendship with nate who was a ‘bad influence’ on him, then he had to sacrifice his relationship with his parents who were ‘brainwashing’ him, then he had to sacrifice his friendship with Madi, Tara, Quen and Madison Beer because they were all ‘flirting’ with Chris and disrespecting his wife, he had to sacrifice his relationship with his older brother Justin because ‘he took to much of Chris’ time’. So, so, so many sacrifices had been made to make Aaliyah happy and yet here she still was, making his life miserable.
The couple were planning to move. That's what started the whole ordeal. The couple had decided to pack up and move to San Diego about a year ago and they only had 3 more days until they were gone for good. Well, to be completely honest it was more of Aaliyah yelling and Chris being too scared to do anything to stop it. Apparently she wanted to be closer to her dad and step mom which confused Chris because from what he knew, she hasn't spoken to her father since she told him she was pregnant. He still remembered when he told his brothers. Matt started crying on the spot which really did shake Chris to his core. Matt always said he hated Chris and thought he knew it was a joke he still didn’t think that Matt would be so distraught over Chris Leaving. They still planned to do Youtube. They planned to rotate, one week they would be in Los Angeles and the other they would be in San Diego. It would be tough but they had no other option. The whole argument started when Chris had stated he wasn't sure if he liked the dark brown wood for the floor that Aaliyah had chosen in front of their interior designer. He wasn't rude or malicious, he was simply voicing his opinion, but it was enough to have Aaliyah beating him for “embarrassing her.”
“You ought to wrap that wrist up.” Aaliyah said from the doorway of their living room staring at her husband who was hunched over their couch, trying to wipe the remaining blood from his mouth. He looked up at his wife with nothing but pure terror. The tyrant was back.
“Relax, i'm not here to hurt you,” Aaliayh chuckled as she approached him. Laughing, she was laughing. How could she be laughing? 
Aaliyah sat next to Chris examining his face and Chris simply froze. She had done this to him. She was the one to hurt him. She was the one who bruised him, she was the one who caused him to be bleeding out and now here she was, sat next to him like a loving wife. She leaned forward and abruptly brought her hand up to his face. By pure muscle memory Chris jumped back, preparing for the next blow to his already weak body. She laughed. Again. She laughed at his pain. 
“I'm not going to hurt you silly,” She laughed, “I'm just here to clean you up.”
Her smile was so deceiving. With that smile she could light up an entire room, she could have bored you outta your mind listening to her ramble about the most useless things but you would stay there and listen in the hopes of even catching a glimpse of that smile. She is so addictive yet she was poisonous. Like a hard drug, something you can't seem to live without even if its slowly killing you. 
After about half an hour she had fully cleaned Chris’ cuts and bruises and had kissed him so many times her lips were puffy and she was starting to feel slightly light headed. It was late, Adriana had been asleep for hours at this point and Chris was slowly starting to slip into unconsciousness
“I'm so sorry Chris, you know I love you right?” She said as she rolled on top of him in their shared bed.
“I know.” Chris said, not bothering to look at her, instead he stayed fixated on the chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the same thoughts as always racing through his mind.
How did he end up here?
How could he let this happen?
Why couldn't he just man up and take his child and leave?
Why couldn't he protect his own child?
Why couldn't he tell his brothers?
Why couldn't he te-
“Chris!” Aaliyah yelled as she sat up, looking at him slightly agitated.
“Huh?”
“Did you hear anything I just said?”
“No.”
Alliyah simply rolled her eyes before getting off him, “And im not good enough for you to listen to as usual. Some excuse of a husband you are.” She grumbled angrily.
Chris knew he had to deescalate whatever it was that was brewing or he could end up sleeping in his car tonight, so he sat up, resting against their head rest before picking Aaliyah up slightly and sitting her on his lap. He then kissed all over her face down to her neck until she was giggling uncontrollably.
“Chris stop!” She laughed, not pushing him away though.
“I'm sorry, it's not that I wasn't listening to you, I'm just so tired. Tell me what you were saying again, I promise you've got my full attention”.  Chris said before resting his head on her chest.
It was moments like this when Chris thought maybe things werent os bad. He was here with his wife, in their joint bed, kissing and laughing, enjoying each other presence, basking in joy and lo-
“I think it's about time we cut off your brothers.”
Moment ended.
“What?” He asked, whipping his head up. He was shocked. Him and his brothers were a package deal. It had been all of them or none of them for so long. His brothers were something he could rely on because they were countistant. You can’t exactly stop being a triplet after all, and now here she was. Getting rid of the one piece of consistency he had through tough times.
“Chris, you are far too reliant on them, I mean 3 weeks ago we got into a little argument and you picked up our child and spent the night with them. That's not normal Chris.”
It wasn't a little argument. She hurt their daughter. She hurt his daughter.
“Listen to me Chris,” Aaliyah started again, adjusting herself slightly so she was straddling him, “Chris I love you, I’m doing this because I love you. I mean what type of example would that set for Adriana? You need to learn to be strong on your own. Not with Nick or Matt holding your hand through life.”
Chris was silent, looking down at his lap through the whole speech.
“Chris, I am all you need. You don't need them, the fact that you've cut everyone else off and have been just fine just proves all you need is me, you don't need anyone else Chris i promise you.” She said sweetly before pressing a kiss to his lips which isn't reciprocated.
“I just… I need to think about it.”
“What?” Aaliyah asked, sitting up and starting to get off Chris once again.
“Those are my brothers Ali, I can't just get rid of them.” “Yes you can!” Aaliyah exclaimed. “Chris when we leave in 3 days you are to block their numbers and get rid of them or I promise you, you will never see Adriana again. If me and Adi aren't good enough for you then you don't deserve us at all. You don't need them Chris but you need me and you are a coward and a cheating bitch for even thinking you can have all of us to yourself.”
“I've never cheated on you Ali…” Chris tried to protest but she cut him off.
“What, you really think I'm that stupid? All the times you ‘go to your brother's house to film’ you think i don't know you're out being a whore. You dont think i know your out there fucking any bitch who comes within a 5 foot radius of you. You don't think I know? You're pathetic.”  She screamed at him. Chris couldn't even say anything. The claims were so far-fetched that he didn't even know how to defend himself. “Get the fuck out of this room Chris.” She said finally before turning over.
“Ali I didn't ev-” 
“Chris get the fuck out of this room!” Aaliyah screamed again. When Chris didn't move, frozen in pure astonishment she started punching him in the head.
The first punch was enough to snap him out of this trans, the second punch was enough to kick off a heavy migraine and the ones that followed were enough to add more fuel to this fire. 
“Get out! Get out! Get Out!” she screamed again and again, landing punch after punch. 
Chris quickly scrambled to his feet and ran for their bedroom door, trying to avoid the objects that she was hurling at him. When he finally got out of the room he just stood there for a while taking in what had just happened. He had to get rid of his brothers. His shoulder to cry in, his light at the end of the tunnel. He had to get rid of them. Slowly Chris found himself sitting on the floor, knees to his chest simply sobbing. He had to get rid of his brothers.
He had to get rid of his brothers.
“Nick stop!” Chris laughed as he watched his brother throw Adriana up in the air before catching the giggling girl again.
“I can't stop, i'm not gonna be able to see my niece any time i want anymore, i have to take in every moment i can.” He said before resting Adriana on his hip.
“I still can’t believe you're actually leaving.” Matt said softly, looking at his triplet brother. 
“Chris can you please tell him you'll call him everyday. I keep telling him we're still gonna talk all the time but the kid just won't listen.” Nick laughed, throwing Adriana into the air again. Chris’ smile faltered a little at that.
It had been 2 days since his argument with Aaliyah and she was still set on Chris cutting his brothers off. The only reason he was even allowed to come and see them was because he had promised that today would be the day he cut them off.
“Hey Adi, why don’t you we let Aunty Sunday put Nemo on for you the living room huh?”
Sunday was Matt’s girlfriend who Adriana absolutely adored. He watched as his daughter toddled into the other room before looking at the confused faces of his brothers.
“I need to talk to you two.” Chris stated bluntly before taking a deep breath and just letting out. It’s now or never and though he preferred never, he cared for his daughter too much to let her go without a fight.
“I love you guys. I really do. I love you with everything in me. You’re my best friends and I genuinely don’t know where I would be without the two of you but I just. I just think I need some time. Some time away from being a triplet to just think about my wife and my child. I just, I need time, you know?”
They didn’t know and they didn’t get it.
“Time? Like how long are we talking, like a week, maybe two?” Matt asked, Chris couldn’t bear this, he couldn’t even look at him. “Or like maybe a month?”
“I was thinking more like a few years,” Chris replied softly.
There it is. The bomb was dropped.
It was silent. Nobody said a word. Everyone was too shocked to even comprehend what had just been said. A break? For a few years? How does one simply decide that they need a break from being a triplet and how do they decide that need a break for so long?
Nick especially wasnt having it. Nobody optionally has a break from being brothers. Especially not triplets.
“What did Aaliyah out you on to this?” Nick spat with nothing but anger in his tone.
Chris and Matt were stunned but for different reasons. Matt because he couldn’t believe his brother would actually voice an accusation like that, and Chris because of how accurate it was.
“Wh-, what are you talking about Nick.”
“Don’t play games with me Chris. You don’t think we’ve seen the difference? You suddenly can’t make it to hang out or you suddenly can’t reply to messages after a certain time?” Nick screamed as he stood up off his couch.
“Nick I don’t know wha-” Chris tried again before being interrupted again.
“And I’ve seen the bruises little one!” Nick yelled again.
Caught.
Chris was stunned. They couldn’t know. If they found out they would only see him as week and unfit to be a father.
“What the hell are you talking about Nicolas!” Chris shouted as well, taking a step forward.
Nick rolled his eyes before grabbing Adriana’s baby bag, picking up 2 clean baby wipes and quickly coming at Chris. Chris flinched hard but that didn’t stop Nick from swiping the wipe across Chris’ face, revealing the concealer he was wearing and a purple bruise that had formed on his face.
“Yeah then what’s this?” Nick yelled showing his younger brother the wipe.
“Nick,” Matt interjected, trying to calm everyone down, “let’s all just take a deep breath okay?”
“What the fuck Nick, how dare you accuse my wife of something so evil! I fell down the stairs a few days ago! That’s were the bruise is from you sick fuck.” Chris yelled back.
“Oh spare me!” Nick replied. “So what happens when something happens to that little girl huh? What happens when she won’t let her have friends or go on playdates or go to the park? what happens when she isolates her daughter the same way she’s isolating you!”
“You know what, this is exactly why I can’t be around you. You’re all delusional and this sort of environment is not good for my child.” Chris yelled, picking up Adriana's baby bag and walking out of the room to grab Adriana.
He walked through the room, seeing Adriana and Sunday playing together. Without saying a word he picked his daughter up and started heading toward the door. “Chris? Chris what happened to your face?” Sunday tried to ask before hearing her own boyfriend running through the room.
“Chris! Chris stop!” Matt yelled while chasing after his brother who didn’t even turn around.
Chris walked straight to the car before gently putting Adriana into her car seat while Matt tried to calm him down.
“Please Chris, Nick was just trying to help, he loves you.” Matt tried to reason but Chris simply wasn’t having it.
“Nick he just accused my wife of beating me I can’t just le-”
“Chris!” Matt yelled, starting to get annoyed. “Chris we love you. More than anything and he’s just hurt that you’re leaving us. I mean a break? Come on Chris.”
That did make Chris feel bad. He always had his brothers. He wouldn’t be where he was now if not for them and now he was leaving them. Chris just felt so awful.
“I’m sorry Matt, I just… I just have to.” Chris replied softly looking down.
It was silent for a minute, then Matt spoke up. “Okay, and when this break ends we and Nick will be waiting for you, because we love you.”
With that Matt brought Chris into a hug. A proper hug. That was all Chris needed for the silent tears to come crumbling down. He was sure how long they were in that hug for before he felt another pair of area wrap around him.
“ I love you Chris, you have to know that.” Nick said, voice thick with tears.
“I know and I’m sorry. I love you guys too, both of you, so much” Chris said pulling away from the hug.
Matt then made his way over to the back of the car where Adriana had been buckled in.
“Hey baby, it looks like I won’t be seeing you for a while. You rember your Uncle Matt okay?” Matt told her making her giggle a little, not fully understanding the situation.
“And don’t forget your Uncle Nick either.” Nick interjected.
“Okay I promise I won’t. Pinky promise.” The little girl promised holding out her pinky fingers for both men to intertwine their fingers with.
The two said their goodbyes to their niece before shutting the door and looking back at Chris.
“Look, I don’t know what type of arrangement you and Ali have, but you protect that little girl or I will, you hear me?” Nick warned him.
Chris simply nodded, too emotional to trust himself to let out any sort of words. 
“I’m sorry, and I love you guys,” Chris said one last time.
“We love you too Chris. You take care of yourself okay?” Matt said one last time.
With that Chris got into his car and started to reverse out of his brothers drive way while his two brothers watched. Once he had fully reversed, he caught one last glance at his brothers, noticing the tears streaming down their faces. He wanted to stop the car, run out and tell them everything but he simply couldn’t. Instead he gave them one last smile before driving off. Now he was fully alone. Nobody to talk to, nobody to help him. He had nobody at all.
And with that, one single tear swam down his face.
TAG LIST:
@betasturniolo
@mattsbitchh
@nicksloverrr
BONUS SCENE
Nick just stood there in his drive way, tears running down his face. “Now what do we do.”
With that Matt took his phone out, going to ‘find my’ where a moving air tag was displayed. Nick’s eyes widened slightly, realising exactly what Nick had done.
“Now we go and help our brother.”
A/N: Heheh, Part 3 has already been started 😘
luv ya,
Xenya 🖤
Part 3
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thyfleshc0nsumed · 4 months ago
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I agree with you about your stances on punishment, and I think it's so important to see that perspective instead of the more common one. I do not want to live in a world with the death penalty or prison.
But I'm very curious how you got to the point where you want your abuser to be happy. Capital H happy. I've never seen that before. I think it's great, and it must've taken a lot of time, and if it's not too personal, I'd like to hear about the process. If not to help myself, to help someone else. I'm personally very very jaded to the whole "forgiveness" mentality (it seems very catholic to me somehow? I forgive you so I'm better than you?) But the way you put it feels different somehow. Sorry for picking your brain, and if it's too personal I totally get it. Thanks for your time.
Thank you for this question.
Hm, it's a tough one. It may be informed by my lack of any singular capital-A Abuser. Certainly, I have had people who were abusive to me longer term (my mother especially), but for the most part it was many dozens of adults in single instances or shorter term situations during my childhood and teenage years that raped or otherwise harmed me. That lack of any singular individual to act as a locus for all the damage may have made it easier for me to come to a point where I wish them well.
I remember being 19, face in my toilet bowl, puking my guts up after downing a fifth of rum in an hour or two. I think it was a Thursday. I understood my mother for the first time. I wanted to stop drinking, and I didn't know why I couldn't.
My roommate at the time slept on a mattress on the floor in the living room. He left his family the day he turned 18 and took the Greyhound across the country to crash with me. We were good friends when he got here, but my negligence and failure to control my drug use ruined that relationship within a few months. He stayed with me for two years. He didn't have other options.
I don't remember those years well at all. Besides various temp jobs, all I did was drink, get fucked up, and make messes I never cleaned up. It was a one bedroom apartment and I had the bedroom, he couldn't really go anywhere. He didn't really know anyone. I was a fucking terror to live with, and a terror he couldn't even really get away from.
And I didn't mean to be that way. I didn't mean to hurt him with my dereliction. But it doesn't matter, y'know, impact is more important than intent. I fucked up bad.
Eventually he left. I was and still am filled with remorse for putting him through what I did. Maybe this perspective is the christian upbringing, maybe it's twelve step bullshit, but often I see my feelings as very self serving. I can justify just about anything, as long as I use enough self pity. But this feeling was different. It was just... remorse, pure and unfiltered. No rationalizations as to how it wasn't really my fault, no equivocations, no blaming outside factors, just acknowledgement that I fucked up and I hurt someone I loved. I was sorry that I had done that.
Humility does not come naturally to me. This was a humbling experience.
I--and everyone I've ever met, everyone who ever harmed me--am a human being. No more, no less. In each of us is potential both to love deeply and to do great harm to others. No one is without both these potentials.
It comes down to this: what I wish for myself, I must wish for all.
Do not mistake me here--this does not neatly translate into a pragmatic political position. For me, this is simply some sort of spirituality, that is to say, how I strive to navigate my life, day at a time, in the world as I find it. This is as small scale as it can get.
I understand that feeling about forgiveness you mention. What I have to say about it probably won't help the christian connotation; I am an atheist and a subjectivist, though obviously culturally evangelical. Maybe it is that last part that influences this next, but I don't feel I have the authority to forgive anyone. Or, in another word, 'let he who is without sin cast the first stone.'
Now, of course, I believe in neither god nor sin, but I do believe in harm. 'Let he who is not capable of such harm cast the first stone,' perhaps. Not all harm is equivalent, certainly, but no one is innately capable or incapable of greater harm than others. The ability to actually do harm is relative to relations to power, no doubt, but a given power relation is not innate.
So yeah I end up back at 'i have no moral high ground over or under anyone else, the forgiveness is neither mine to give nor withhold,' which frankly is a rather christian viewpoint.
There's this idea in Judaism that has stuck with me for the last few years: tikkun olam. To repair the world. What must I do to ensure my part in that repair happens?
There is so little I have control of. The only thing I can change is what I do. If the world around me is hardened and cruel, why must I adopt that cruelty into myself? Will it get me better outcomes in life? Perhaps, perhaps not. I have found it hasn't, but others may find it has. But that's talking about results. And I don't have power over results.
I cannot change the world, cannot repair it alone. But I think I can work to repair myself, and in the process, the smallest portion of the world may be repaired alongside me. Maybe, maybe not. It becomes a matter of faith. Or to put it in a therapeutic framing, it's an 'even if.'
I'll end with this, an old twelve step saying: "resentments are like drinking a bottle of poison and expecting the other person to die."
What is a resentment? Re- as in once more. -sent, as in sentiment. Feeling something once more. It is the reanimated corpse of a feeling, not the feeling itself. It looks like the feeling you know, maybe walks and talks like it too. But it's rotting away. It died long ago. So why should you pretend the corpse is alive? It moves, it rasps, but it's something else now; it only shares a body with the original, nothing else. So maybe it's time to let go, and begin to move forward.
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heartfullofleeches · 1 year ago
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Current Brainrot~ Creep Yan plans to summon a powerful demon to kill those who have wronged them through their life - only it probably wasn't best to follow everything they read online as they actually end up summoning Clown Demon Darling who only knows how to kill with laughter. It's still their job to grant the human who summons them pure happiness and seeing as the only thing that would make Creep happy is brains splattered across the wall - Darling agrees to help them... On one condition. They need to clean up the mess they made in their room. And take a shower. When was the last time they had one of those? And buy some ice cream. Demon Darling loves ice cream, but it always melts before they get to enjoy all of it because they want to savior every bite. Creep should have done too, of course!
Just a sad, homidical maniac and the annoyingly sweet demon servant who day by day improves their life and makes it impossible for them to even breathe properly if they're not by their clown's side. I'd love to explore a reversal scenario with Creep Darling and Clown Yan eventually, but what we have rn is beautiful.
-
Clown Darling: Hellooo, new friend! It's so wonderful to meet you! My name is Y/n the clown, and I'm here to make you the happiest you'll ever be. What should we do first, bud? Play games? Bake cookies? Draw-
Creep Yan: I want you to kill my entire family and former friends.
Clown Darling: ....I have checkers?
-
[Creep Yan lays on the floor of their bedroom in one of their moods when Clown Darling lays beside them throwing their arm over their chest]
Creep Yan: What the hell are you doing?
Clown Darling: Giving you a hug! I love hugs from my friends when I'm sad. Didn't your friends give you hugs?
Creep Yan: no.
Clown Darling: oh- I'm sorry
Creep Yan: I never said let go.
-
Clown Darling: Ice cream!
Creep Yan: Eat it normally - I don't want melted ice cream everywhere
Clown Darling: Kay! [Unhinges their jaw and swallows the cone whole - licking each finger with their unnaturally long tongue]
Creep Yan: ....Never do that again and stay out of my room tonight.
Clown Darling: Why? :(
Creep Yan: You're not gonna like what you see
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papasbaseball · 2 months ago
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The Wizard x Reader (Wonderful Wonderful Girl) | Chapter 7
Pairing: Wizard x F!Reader
Rating: Teen (Rating to Increase)
Warnings: Power Imbalance, Boss/Employee Relationship
Summary: Being a maid in the Royal Palace of Oz is not half so bad. Despite the meager wages, everything else is provided for you for an honest day's work. It can be unnerving working for the most powerful man in Oz, but you are able to avoid him most of the time. This changes during Lurlinemas, your paths soon becoming inextricably intertwined.
Word Count: 3,724 of 19,250
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AO3 Link
The festivities start before the sun sets. I watch as it sinks below the horizon, a fat red apple amongst the crooked charred tops of green houses and shops. Its dying light falls gently on the shoulders of ladies and gentlemen as they arrive, like a glowing kiss of welcome as strokes of real gold, gold that could be minted, bathe their cheeks and laughter-filled smiles. They arrive in pairs, by themselves, in whole parties that tumble out of stuffed carriages. I watch from the window of my room, having already been done up for an hour at that point. I have dragged the vanity stool over to the window so that I can watch better. Anything to pass the time as I wait for the inevitable final guest of the party: myself.
I have no desire or intent to go down to the feast because I knew that he would be there: the Wizard. Every stroke of the makeup brushes this afternoon felt like porcupine bristles being dragged across the skin of my cheeks, eyelids, and lips. The lips had stung the worst, right in the spot where he had touched his thumb. It was embarrassing really, the way I fell for it all. Emily didn't know anything about what had happened in the throne room, but her words from weeks ago echoed in my head as she wound locks of my hair around the hot iron. You're not the first dummy to try and sleep her way to head maid. The fact that I wasn't the first one was what was eating at me. Was this the kind of treatment that they got? How many had there been before me?
I shake my head at that. No, not before me. I am not a part of any line of women who would sleep with the Wizard, and I do not want to be any part of that line. I'm sure he has needs that are natural to his human body, just the same as he needs to bathe or dress or sleep, but I refuse to think of him like that. It feels disrespectful to even think that he could be so carnally biased that sleeping with him would earn you a higher rank and station, rather than merit.
The thought of him brushing my lips stings me again and I wince, getting up from the window and throwing myself on the bed. There is something about watching the guests arrive that is causing my mind to lose itself, fixating on... I grit my teeth as I push my face into the pillow, not even trying to protect the curls Emily had set or the makeup that had been painted. The cotton pillow is soft against my made-up face and when I try to breathe in, my lungs are confused by the lack of oxygen. Good. If I knock myself out maybe I'll get out of the whole thing altogether.
There is a knock at the door and I dig my claws into the comforter. It's only been a few minutes since Emily left the room and already someone is coming to bother me. I breathe in the pillow quicker, hoping to speed up the process. There's the sound of the door opening and then an unexpected voice.
"You planning to fall through the floor to get to the party?" Bruno says. He bats at my shoe. "C'mon. He wants you downstairs."
What? So he can embarrass me? It was one thing when we were in the darkness of the control room, or even teasing remarks in front of Humak, but to do it in front of hundreds of strangers? "I'm not going," I muffle into the pillow.
"I don't know what you said, but you'd better get up before I make you," he says.
I turn my head just enough and find myself involuntarily sucking in clean air. "I said 'I'm not going', okay? You can't make me."
"For Oz's sake," he says, and then he yanks me by the ankle as I squeak in protest. "This is the hill you're going to die on? A stupid party is worth your sister's life?" He yanks me once more and I tumble to the floor, the wind going out of me in a yelp.
"No! I'll run away!" I say, scrambling to my feet. I say this, despite never having thought about it before or knowing how I would survive outside of the Emerald City with no money and a second mouth to feed. I don’t even know how I would get out of the palace without a guard stopping me.
"You look fine," he says. "Now, let's go."
"No," I say.
"What the hell is wrong with you?” he says “You see a ghost or something? There's food downstairs and drinks and dancing.” Dancing. The thought of the Wizard's hands on me again, the knowledge that I'd fall for it again like an idiot... The Wizard had magic in more ways than one.
"I don't want to dance," I say, "...with strangers, that is. Have you seen the Arjiki guards? They're frightening." They aren't, but it's better than confessing my relational problems to no-nonsense Bruno. What would he know of... whatever the Wizard and I were?
"Well, then you can dance with me then," he says.
I blink, having never considered the possibility before. The party would be better than hiding in my room upstairs because I would have an excuse to not see the Wizard. How could he dance with me if I filled my entire dance card with other people? Up here I ran the risk of him slipping away from the party to come torment me in private. "You mean it?" I ask. Bruno simply offers his arm, and I take it.
We take our time walking down to the Grand Ballroom. I ask Bruno how Leo is doing. Apparently, he got in trouble at school the other day for beating a kid up on the playground. I ask him if the kid deserved it and he laughs, asking me about Fileah instead. There's nothing new to report back besides telling him I'm trying to be on my best behavior so I can see her again. We don't talk about the riot. I hope Fileah has stopped talking about it by herself as I hadn't had the chance to tell her to. The Wizard has been keeping me busy with etiquette assignments and other stupid tasks that seem to take up the whole day past when visiting hours are over. As we enter the Grand Ballroom, I can feel the puzzle piece of the confusing social training click into place and realize that he had this party planned for a while and was truly planning to surprise me.
Tulle and taffeta skim across the floor in coiling circles as partners guide them along, sometimes breaking off and weaving in and out of the ladies and gentlemen, all the while laughing. Toward the front of the room parallel to the wall, and on the dais there are tables laden with food. As we draw closer I can see suckling pigs that have been roasted until bronzed, the skin pulled so tight that you could taste the way it would crackle in your mouth without ever sinking your teeth into it. There are turkeys that have been herbed and stuffed and are twice the size of the biggest one I've ever seen. In between the meats are bowls so big that you would have to carry them with both arms filled with buttered turnips, roasted brussel sprouts, sugared beets, whipped and airy potatoes, and several others that I ignore once I see the towers of desserts. The guests who are not dizzying themselves with merriment have taken seats along these tables, filling their plates with any and all of the offerings.
The table on the dais is packed. Fiyero, Humak, and some of their guards that I had seen earlier are seated on the left, a few strangers are seated on the right, and in dead-center there’s him. The Wizard's lips are pressed together in a hard line, goblet draped lazily in hand, and an empty seat beside him. His eyes are scanning the room, and I know he is looking for me.
"This was a mistake," I say, pressing against Bruno to try and get past him.
"I'll be here and ready to dance with you when it's time," he says reassuringly. He takes my wrist which now has a dance card attached to it. Someone must have slipped it on me while I was salivating over the food. Quickly, he pencils his name into two or three slots – I'm not sure how many as I'm watching the Wizard stare at me, not once breaking the gaze – and then he guides me up to the dais. "I'll come get you when it's time."
I climb the stairs on the right side of the dais, trying to find a seat that hasn't been taken already. Unfortunately, all of the seats at the table are labeled with place cards, little bits of cream cardstock that have been etched in curling script with names and titles. I try to keep my eyes on the whirling bodies of the dance floor and away from the Wizard's tiger-like gaze. The dancers seem to have moved onto a reel, two great ovals smashed together as couples take turns dancing down the aisle of refined and all-green and gold clothing. I watch intently, even as I take my seat next to him, even as I can smell the spiced cloud of his cologne, even as I can feel his eyes burning into the side of my face to make it so hot that I wonder if I have a fever and might be excused from the party to undisturbed bed rest.
We sit like this for an eternity, letting the full orchestra swallow up our unsaid words, until a familiar voice asks, "Are you a big dancer?" It's Fiyero, goblet in hand, and much more fashionably dressed than the last time I saw him, a satin blue military jacket perfectly accompanying his blinding smile and the twinkle in his eyes.
I have to ask him to repeat himself, feigning that the orchestra is too loud to hear him. He does, and I swear I could go down to the Unionist chapel right now and thank the Unnamed God for getting me away from the man sitting next to me. "Oh yes!" I say. "I love dancing. I don't get to do it much, so I'm really trying to take it all in."
Prince Fiyero laughs at that. "Wouldn't it be better to take it in on the dance floor?" He offers me a hand, and I don't have to think twice before taking it.
I don't have to imagine that Fiyero is a heartbreaker back in Winkie Country. I can feel my own butterflies flap their wings in curiosity at how graceful and perfectly gentlemanlike he is: the way his hand warmly guides me by the waist, the way he laughs at anything that I say and always has the perfect banter ready to shoot back. Even his eyes, his hair, and his teeth are perfectly perfect, and yet I am still not completely sold. Stopping me from falling for him fully is almost equally the shock that a prince has asked me to dance with him when I had been sharing a bed for warmth and stealing ribbons weeks ago, and the fact that I can still feel the Wizard's eyes on me.
I look to the dais, and even though we are a good hundred feet away, I can see the anger seeping from him, how Humak who was sitting to his right looks at him nervously as if the man in the satin green tuxedo were going to explode and kill him in the process. Good, I think. It was time for him to get a taste of his own medicine. It wouldn't hurt him to see me dancing with the enemy. It's just a little harmless fun so maybe he'd stop trying to mess with my head and toy with me.
I'm not familiar with the dance that plays next, but Fiyero is such an excellent partner that everyone who looks at us would think I had known it my whole life. He jokes with me about how the party hadn't really started until I showed up and I almost believe him. By the end of it, I have a stitch in my side from all of the dancing and the laughing. I feel as if I could down an entire bottle of fizzy wine the way I'm out of breath and giddy to go again. I don't need the wine as I feel a strange warmth spreading within me. Looking at Fiyero, I'm more than glad he came to the Emerald City, and not just glad that he got me away from the Wizard.
"Come on! Come on!" a man in spectacles that pinch his pupils into reptilian slits shouts. "Let's play a game of Blind Man's Buff!"
This sends the crowd into a tizzy of excitement, young women shrieking with delight and pushing each other, the gentlemen gathering closer to the bespectacled man.
"Blind Man's Buff?" I say, grabbing Fiyero's arm. "What is it?"
Fiyero's grin spreads wide in excitement and he pulls me into the throng of those who have had enough of dancing. The man in the lizard glasses is now waving a white scarf as if it were a flag of surrender as the mob pushes in.
"Who shall be our Blind Man?" Lizard Eyes asks.
Fiyero pulls me forward and pushes me to the front. "Take her!" he shouts, waving my hand above my head. "She's a virgin!"
"A virgin!?" Lizard Eyes exclaims.
I'm short-circuiting over them discussing whether I've slept with anyone before when Fiyero whispers in my ear, "It just means you've never played before, love." The butterflies are now beating their wings in earnest.
"Yes! Yes!" Lizard Eyes says. "It will be a special Lurlinemas treat, then. A real game to remember!" Quickly, Lizard Eyes blindfolds me, the world going dark as the soft and warm cashmere is wrapped snuggly around my eyes. Despite the scarf being white, there is still a green light that comes through, and I realize just how truly green the entire palace and city are if even a thick scarf can't block the verdant glow. "Should we make it a special game?" the voice of Lizard Eyes says.
"Lover's fate!" Fiyero shouts out.
"What's that?" I try to ask Lizard Eyes. However, I can't see him, and my guess as to where he is remains in the last place I saw him. I reach out to my right and touch nothing but air. This earns a laugh from the crowd.
"Lover's fate!" people agree, some even starting a chant.
"Lover's fate it will be!" Lizard Eyes says. He must have moved back behind me, I realize, turning in that direction. "You will have to search the room looking for people. Once you grab someone, you must identify them." He giggles.
"Sounds easy," I say. I hope I catch Fiyero, I think. He's familiar enough and I wouldn't mind an excuse to touch that perfect face of his.
"Well, it would be, except you can't use your hands," Lizard Eyes says. "You'll have to kiss them to figure it out."
I want to rip off the scarf and go hide under one of the banquet tables when Lizard Eyes grabs me by the shoulders and starts spinning me around and around until I'm so dizzy that I want to lay on the floor until my head comes back to normal. Even if I lay there all evening, it would never stop the spinning on account of how many strangers there were and that I would have to kiss one of them. The thought makes my stomach go cold, so I know that I have to find Fiyero. Maybe I’ll be glad that I came to the party after all. Maybe...
The mob that had gathered around Lizard Eyes is now quickly dispersing and reeling back in. Their whoops and hollers are growing distant and then occasionally they bump past me in taunt, but I don’t care. Frankly, there are too many of them, and I'm trying to pick out Fiyero's voice. The slight Winkie accent is what I'm looking for, the way it sparkles. I think I hear him 10 feet diagonally to the right of me. I go chasing after it and can hear his laugh as I fall through the air in my attempt to catch him.
"If I had known you wanted to kiss me that bad," he says, "we could have skipped the dancing."
I'm following his voice once again, trying to sneak up on him. "Okay," I say. "So then get over here." Another snatch and a miss.
"Nuh-uh," he says. "I'm undefeated in this game. You can kiss me afterward if you really want to."
I make a dash for him and miss the grab again. I stomp my foot, willing him to hold still.
"You know, you're supposed to chase other people too," he says. Another missed grab.
"Well nobody told me that," I retort back. I fake going after other people, trying to keep his location in mind. When I'm satisfied with enough squeals and laughs, I taunt him again. "Maybe you're undefeated because you're scared."
"I'm not scared," he says. 8 feet to my left. I reach for the rustle of a skirt that I hear closest to me, pretending to chase it as I make a semicircle to cut him off. I shoot my hand out and grab hold of an arm clad in a soft satin. The blue and gold dress military jacket.
"Too easy," I say with a smirk. The room has gone silent and I can't stop grinning at the thought of the Arjiki prince kissing the Wizard’s special guest. Serve’s him right. "Kiss me."
His fingertips are warm as his hands cradle my face. The room is still holding its breath as I feel just the brush of his lips against my own.
"You call that a kiss?" I whisper. "Kiss me."
His lips crush mine openly, an invitation. I let my tongue slide against his lower lip as his tongue slips against mine and into my mouth, pressing my tongue back into submission. It's everything I can do to not fall into his arms and let him carry me out of the party. He was certainly better than any schoolyard kisses and there was a promise of domination in the way his tongue danced with mine that sent a thrill up my spine.
When he pulls away, his name is already on my lips as I tear the scarf off. I don't make it past the first syllable.
It's him. There's a look of hurt in his eyes and I can't help but feel like an idiot. I was so wrapped up in the idea of kissing Fiyero that I couldn't even recognize the same small scars that had touched my hands earlier that day or the way his mustache and goatee had scratched the delicate skin of my lips.
So many things are crashing and burying me like an avalanche: the way he's looking at me, the way the room is still silent and staring at us, the way Fiyero has a shit-eating grin and I can tell he's holding in a laugh, the way I liked it and still want more. This last part is what sends me running from the room and out into the winding halls of the Emerald Palace.
I need to get away from him, to think this out. How was I ever going to face him again? I remember telling Bruno about how I would run away, and now I'm seriously considering it. How much could a train ticket possibly cost? Fileah and I could probably run away and live in the jungle off of the fruits of the forest until we found somewhere nice in Munchkinland to house us. Maybe Bruno had some family outside of the Emerald City that could hide us.
I burst through the hallway and find myself back in the throne room. Sweet Oz, anywhere but here. The face is well hidden amongst the vines again. I consider going up into it to cry – it'd probably be the last place he'd expect to find me – when I hear a queer wooden sound. It sounds like a penny made of wood is spinning around and around before it falls flat. Then the crash happens, followed by cursing.
I run over to the source of the commotion to see Humak Tigelaar with a funny-looking object in his hands.
"Humak," I say through a tear-constricted throat, "you're missing the party."
Humak laughs nervously at this, agreeing with me. It is as he's trying to slip away that I realize what he's holding.
"The Grimmerie," I breathe.
Humak's smile drops and instantaneously he's bolting into the hallways.
All I wanted to do was to be left alone, to just go somewhere where no one would find me while I tried to sort out what would be best for me, what would be best for Fileah. No, in truth, it was just what would be best for me. If I had really been selfless I would have played whatever part he had set for me and done it happily. Ribbons were a fraction of his generosity, and she could have had anything in the world if I had just played the stupid part.
I feel like Lizard Eyes has spun me around and around for a second time as the machine that is Oz the Great and Terrible seems to be floating up with its ropes towards the ceiling, the ceiling falling to the floor. I stumble, feeling for any sort of familiarity or guidepost in what to do, and I keep stumbling, footstep after footstep until I reach the entrance to the Officer's wing.
My voice sounds a thousand yards away as I yell for help.
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holdmytesseract · 11 months ago
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Hello dearest friend! I got a little drabble idea for Baby Fever! Loki & his little family for the 2k sleepover 😁
Narfi as a baby having a clingy/separation anxiety stage with both of his parents, but Y/N and Loki are busy with tasks at home. Ella hears Narfi crying and she goes into the room to get him out of the crib to play with him and he stops crying. Maybe when Loki and Y/N are done with their tasks, they join their babies or watch through the baby monitor to see Ella and Narfi playing together 💕🥹
Inspired by this: https://www.instagram.com/reel/CwW4mLMo1ru/?igsh=ZGFqYjdtbDZndHo1
The Best Big Sister
Ella & Narfi
Warnings: fluff... so much fluff!
Word Count: drabble
a/n: Henlo, friend! Thank you SO much for this utterly sweet request! I had SO much fun writing it! 🥹💖
Day 3 of the Campfire Sleepover - let's go! 🏕
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Ella was just leaving her room and happily jumping down the hallway - on her way to get another slice of Scott's blueberry pie, when she heard the soft cries and whimpers of her baby brother; coming undoubtedly from his nursery across her parents bedroom. The six-year-old girl frowned and looked around for her father or mother, but none of them was even in sight. So, Ella placed her plate on the floor beside her door and tiptoed over to Narfi's room.
Gently opening the door, she peaked inside. The nightlight, which was once hers casted a beautifully warm light throughout the whole darkened room. Then her blue eyes landed on the crib. Little Narfi stood on his small feet; one tiny hand holding onto the wooden bars, while the other rubbed his teary eyes. Thick tears ran down his cheeks; small raven curls completely dishevelled.
The young boy couldn't form much words yet, but Ella could clearly identify his cries... Mama and Dada.
What the girl didn't know, was that Narfi currently went through a clingy anxiety stage with both his parents - but that was the last thing Ella thought of. All she wanted was to help her baby brother. So, she approached the crib.
"Narfi..." She spoke gently, while sliding the little stool over and stepped on it. "Don't cry." Without hesitation, Ella reached over and lifted her younger brother out of the crib and held him, just like Loki had showed her. "I know I'm not mommy or daddy, but... I'm still here for you. You're my baby brother." She sat down on the fluffy carpet with Narfi still whimpering in her lap. But when she started to talk to him, his big ruby eyes settled on her and his cries stopped.
"You know, you are just here, because I wished for you. I asked mommy and daddy for a sibling and they really said yes." Ella kept on talking; gently cuddling Narfi against her. "I am your big sister, Narfi and I will always be here for you." The little boy still stared up at her with wide eyes; seemingly stunned and fascinated. But Ella had an idea...
"You don't have to be afraid," the girl whispered and shape-shifted into her Jotun form. "See?" She smiled; taking his smaller hand into hers. Narfi still looked up at his sister; ruby eyes meeting ruby eyes - and suddenly he smiled brightly, causing Ella to smile as well. She made it.
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Across the apartment, you and Loki were standing in the kitchen; together cleaning up the dishes from dinner. Neither you nor Loki had the time to pay much attention to the baby monitor, but after about an hour kicked your motherly instincts in; knowing very well that Narfi was in a clingy anxiety stage. You frowned; drying your hands.
"Everything alright, love?" Loki asked immediately; seeing your frown. "Yeah, I'm just... suspicious. Narfi didn't even cry once in three hours... We both know that he usually always does at the moment." You walked over to the table, on which the baby monitor stood - and noticed to your sheer horror, that the monitor was off.
"Shit, babe, we forgot to switch the baby monitor on!" Loki's eyes widened. "I beg your pardon, we did what?" Wordlessly, you showed your husband the switched off device. You exchanged a horrified look and both immediately stormed off to Narfi's room...
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Arrived at the door, you and Loki stopped dead in your movement, as you noticed that the door was ajar. I closed it, the god thought; was certain.
You exchanged another look, before peaking through the gap - and seeing one of the sweetest things ever; almost causing your ovaries to explode...
Your daughter sat on the fluffy carpet, your baby boy cradled in her arms. She was gently rocking and speaking to him; tickling him from time to time and making him coo and giggle.
You instinctively reached for Loki's arm; squeezing it tight, as if to say: Do you see what I see?!
Of course, Loki did. And if you'd look into his eyes in that very moment, you'd see the tears of happiness and endless love gathering in them. The scene unfolding in front of him touched the god deeply.
Not to startle either of your kids, you gently knocked, took Loki's hand and stepped inside. Ella's eyes immediately snapped up and met yours. "Hey mommy and daddy," she whispered and put a finger on her lips. "I think Narfi is about to sleep in, shhh." Both, you and Loki quietly joined your son and daughter; sat down on the soft carpet beside her. Loki immediately wrapped an arm around his princess.
"Did you look after your brother?" Ella nodded. "I wanted to get another slice of uncle Scott's cake, when I heard Narfi's cries, but didn't see you or daddy. So, I went to help him."
You pressed a kiss on the crown of her head. "Thank you, sweetie. You did wonderfully." Her eyes lit up and she smiled. "Really?"
Loki nodded. "Yes, princess. You are such a great big sister." Ella giggled happily; eyes shining brightly.
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ratsummer · 7 months ago
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Okay so I have seen headcanons here and there about the abbey having a nursery for the ghoul kits and human babies and I LOVE THAT. I've been having a rough few days so I've been thinking a lot about what that looks like c: Maybe someday I'll type up my thoughts on what the system overall looks like, but for now...
How would our beloved band ghouls interact with the little ones??
I'm starting with Swiss! Maybe this will become a little series if I feel like it/anyone wants to know what I think about the other ghouls c:
Though I believe there's a dedicated nursery staff in the abbey, I think they always welcome and encourage volunteers to come hang out so the babies can socialize with all kinds of different people! Swiss is one of the ghouls regularly assigned to work nursery shifts when things slow down a bit for the band, but the rest of the time I think he visits voluntarily because he likes it.
Overall, I think Swiss is super great with kids of all ages. He's got deep wells of energy and patience, and though he of course loves playtime, he also actively enjoys most elements of caretaking! Keeping everyone fed, clean, and cozy can be fun too! He helps with everyone, but his most favorite group to spend time with? The toddlers.
Ghoul kits becoming ambulatory is... interesting! Like many human babies, they typically start with some scooting and then get into crawling. But, I think ghoul kits stay in the crawling phase for much longer than humans. After all, they have those pesky tails to figure out, too! Switching to walking on two legs is so hard when everyone is cheering for you, and that's exciting so your tail starts wagging, and then you're thrown off balance, and then you're on the floor, and yeah that's annoying, so maybe you should cry about it... or stick to moving around on four limbs because it's way faster anyway! Practicing moving around on four legs for a while longer lets them build up their little hip and ab muscles, especially while their tail moves around with their emotions.
But just...
Swiss on his knees behind one of the kits who is so close to figuring out walking upright on their own. He's got an arm on either side of the little one, hands just in front of them. The kit is little bitty tiny, maybe air, so even though they're using their whole entire hands, their little grip doesn't quite extend all the way around even one of Swiss' fingers.
Swiss has propped up one of their favorite toys, a big plush bear almost the same size as the kit, against an armchair just a few feet away.
"You see your bear-bear, baby?" Swiss coos, bouncing his hands a bit to jiggle the kit's arms.
The kit is shrieking in delight, little tail lashing around and whacking into Swiss' stomach. Their giggles are infectious, and Swiss' face aches from the strength of his smile.
"I know, baby! Should we go get your bear??" Swiss moves his arms just a smidge forward, gently encouraging the kit to take a step.
Their chubby little leg jerks forward a bit awkwardly, but with a confidence that sends Swiss' heart soaring. This kit had been one of the more shy, timid babies when they had come into the abbey's care. They rarely smiled, much less laughed, just taking in the world around them with big eyes and arms held tight to their chest. They'd arrived during a busier time of year for the band ghouls, but Swiss had met and interacted with them enough times to see the remarkable change in their energy. He made a mental note to shower kisses on the nursery ghouls specializing in infant care.
"Yes! Well done, my darling!" Swiss cheers, scooting along on his knees behind the kit. They're taking strong, only slightly wobbly steps toward the bear. "Go get bear-bear! He wants a hug!"
Swiss squirms a finger out of the kit's grip, but they maintain their awkward forward momentum with only one finger to hold. They're practically bouncing as they lurch toward their bear, bright laughter filling the room.
When the kit finally makes it to the plush toy, they let go of Swiss and flop onto its round belly, giggling and nuzzling into its neck. Swiss claps and hollers for the kit, cheering and celebrating their hard won victory.
"You did it, my love!" He coos, rubbing the kit's back. His heart melts over how tiny they are, his hand spanning the entirety of their torso. "I'm so proud of you! You're getting so strong!"
The kit flails a little bit but is quickly turned back around to face Swiss, a huge grin lighting up their face. They only laugh harder when they see him, the big, gasping laughs that they nearly choke on.
"I know, baby! Aren't you cl-"
The words catch in Swiss's throat as the kit pulls themselves up on their feet, a bit wobbly, but notably standing up with no outside support. He watches on, breathless, as they hold their tail out behind them, mostly still, and put their arms out to the side for balance. They take one tiny step, and then another, stuttering laughs breaking through their sudden and intense focus.
Swiss holds his hands out toward the kit, ready to catch them, but otherwise not interfering. They take only two more steps before their toe catches on the rug and they go lurching forward, but instantly Swiss is scooping them up and jumping to his feet.
"You did it!" He cries, dancing around while holding the kit on his hip, "You walked all by yourself!" As he whirls around, the kit in his arms matches his joy with their shrieks. "Oh, clever baby!"
Swiss stops spinning around to pull the kit up onto his chest so he can nuzzle under their chin and around their neck, scenting them thoroughly. He's purring so hard his chest hurts, but he's just so overwhelmed he can't help it. When the kit starts a cooing purr through their laughs, Swiss starts kissing and play-nibbling over their face and hair, making gobbling sounds as he goes.
"What a sweet little kit," he says between kisses, "I think I'm going to have to eat you up! I don't have much time left, soon you're going to be able to run away!"
An exaggerated gasp from the door has Swiss turning on his heel to find one of the main infant through toddler caretakers making their way in, a snack for the kit in hand. When the kit sees them they're instantly squirming and screeching in delight and reaching for their caretaker, and Swiss happily hands them over.
"Don't worry baby, I've got you now! I won't let Swiss eat you!"
And because Swiss is a deeply sentimental ghoul he is going to immediately detail what just happened and he is going to start crying about seeing a kit's first steps and generally just be gooey about it and you cannot change my mind!!! Aaaah!!
So ya ghouls with kits on my mind has been keeping me saaaaaane recently and I have so so many thoughts!!! Idk if I'll write anymore BUT look out who knows! I have a stressful week ahead lmao save me ghouls with kits save me 😭
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doberbutts · 5 months ago
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hello jaz, i'd like your opinion on something. i'm seeing a lot of dog trainers online go on about the benefits of crating in regards to making sure dogs are getting enough sleep and to always crate them when asleep. the numbers i see thrown around are 12-14 but more commonly 16-18. i have certainly seen a lot of improvement when i make sure my adolescent is getting enough sleep, but she is not crate trained (its really rare where im from) a lot of the advice on making sure the dog is settling is to isolate the dog, cover the crate in a different room and avoid coming anywhere near it, basically pretend they dont exist. im finding it really hard to justify locking up a social animal for 16-18 hours a day without any interraction. i specifically got a dog after years of having a cat (he was really sweet and loved companionship but it didnt hit the same spot as having a dog), as i like how engaged they are with you and seek interraction, it just feels unfair. am i antropomorphizing? is it not that big of a deal if they're properly enriched and excercised? what are your thoughts on this as a dog trainer and someone who had a dog with medical issues related to excessive crating?
Oh oh oh oh I had a very long conversation with a few good friends who are dog trainers about this one.
Now before I start, I do have to say that I do support crate training and in fact have crate trained the majority of my dogs, with Fenris being the sole exception and even he is, hmm, half crate trained at this point and we're working on the rest.
First of all 18 hours is an astronomical number, personally I think 12 hours is excessive. Life shoved in a small box for literally half the day is sort of miserable. I now work 10 hour shifts with an hour commute and so my dogs *are* left home for 12 hours at a time- however I have made a lot of changes to the way I contain them to prevent this exact scenario. Sushi is loose, the chihuahuas are crated together in something that is roughly the size of a typical x-pen or they're left loose in my bathroom (where it is easier to clean up Tater's incontinence), and Fenris is also sectioned off in my foyer again a space the size of a typical x-pen. Sometimes I leave Sushi in there with him because he seems comforted by her presence and ability to play with him if he's bored, other times she seems kind of done managing his energy on her own so I give her the run of the house to give her a bit of a break.
And, I will say, based on the camera I have looking in at them, the dogs mostly sleep the whole day. The last two days most of the peeks in during a motion alert have revealed someone getting up for a drink of water and then plopping back down on their bed. Or getting a toy or chew to bring back to their bed. Or getting up to stretch and laying back down. So, while I feel bad that I leave them alone for that long, it's also not like they're doing much in my absence.
However to me it is less about the crate and more about the ability to perform natural behaviors. As said, the dogs get up and have a drink of water, stretch, maybe wrestle if they're sectioned off two-by-two, or grab a toy or chew (or blanket to suck in the case of Fenwen), which are all things they could do in a large enough crate. It is also why, once my dogs are house trained, I keep them in crates far bigger than recommended so they can have a bit more space to move around. This is, of course, easier with the chihuahuas who weigh a combined 8lbs than with the 100lb mountain dog. Or they can be loose if they're nondestructive and won't soil my floors.
However I also think that it becomes really difficult when we talk about how dogs are social creatures. Like it or not, by leaving them alone for 8+ hours every day, we are dooming single dog households to a lifetime of solitary confinement. Whether the dogs are in a crate or not, we are leaving a social creature alone for the majority of our waking hours. So I think it is important, if you don't have multiple dogs or rotating work schedules with all the humans in the house, to make sure and fill the gaps as much as possible. I think if you are home your dog should be out of confinement and also hanging out with you. I think you should deliberately try to interact with your dog while you are home, whether that's just petting as you do something else or taking them for a walk or whatever.
I mentioned that Fenris is not fully crate trained despite being nearly a year and a half. This is because he can open just about anything that doesn't require thumbs, including crate doors. And he has broken himself out of 3 separate crates, and broke 2 teeth in the process the last time he broke out. I have been slowly re-introducing the crate ever since, and now he is calm and quiet in a jumbo sized Great Dane crate (read: two sizes up from what is recommended for him) with a bed, a sucky blanket, a toy, a chew, and his EDM music box for about 4ish hours at a time. This is a big win for us because he used to not even tolerate a few minutes despite me following all of the same rules and advice I have followed for all of my other successfully crate trained dogs.
I noticed fairly early on that he is happiest when contained in a larger area with a friend. So my foyer and Sushi became the sacrifice until I either can convince him to tolerate longer than half days or can trust him left loose in my house. He did figure out how to open the gate a few weeks ago and promptly murdered my 32 year old snake plant (and destroyed a tupperware container left on my counter, and shredded my mail also from my counter, and pulled a book off my bookshelf to shred, and chewed on my camera but it does still work at least), so clearly he is not trustworthy as of just yet. I have added a locking mechanism that requires thumbs, he fiddled with it the first day I installed it and has left it alone since.
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dunmeshichilchuck · 9 months ago
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For That One Guy on Tumblr, part 3
Chilchuck x !fem !halffoot reader
@dunmeshimeshi @leguink
Approximately 10 minutes later your optimism floated away with your appetite while you stared down at what looked like a lamb chop in abject horror. 
"You've been eating WHAT??!!" 
Laois looked all too enthused. "They're good! I promise! Just try some!" 
Marcille backed him up. "Yeah I know it seems weird but it really is very tasty!"
Almost reflexively, you looked at the other halffoot in the room. Was this some kind of prank they were playing? Were they actually criminals consigned to live down here for the rest of time? Was this...actually safe?
He seemed to somewhat understand your unspoken questions. He nodded and shrugged. "It's what's gotten us to this floor. Otherwise we wouldn't have been able to buy and pack enough food." 
He picked up his fork and took a bite. "Mmmm Senshi this is really good!" 
Everyone else followed suit, and even though you figured they were playing it up for your benefit, it did seem like they were genuinely enjoying it. You watched Chilchuck carefully, and when he didn't seem to be doubling over and dying, and at the insistent prodding of Laois, you tried a tentative bite. 
It was, unfortunately, amazing. Probably the best meat you'd ever had in your life. Once started your hunger took over and you started to scarf down the food. 
Someone grabbed your fork and you glanced up angrily to see Chilchuck looking concerned, along with the rest of the party members. 
"If you eat it that quickly you'll throw it back up, and then it'll just be a net loss." He said brusquely. "Especially with our smaller stomaches resurrection hunger can be difficult to remedy safely." 
You knew THAT, you weren't fucking stupid. Just it'd been so long since you'd had good food, and you were so hungry...
Senshi looked chagrined "aaahhhh I should have thought of that! My apologies young lady, I'll make you some broth you can drink slowly." 
You scowled. "I can handle a little meat! And I'm fucking starving!" 
Chilchuck scowled right back and summarily yanked your plate from you. "Don't be stupid, if your stomach explodes from overeating we'll just have to ressurect you again, and that'd be a waste of time and mana."
You briefly contemplated how difficult it would be to get the plate back, but your knife was in a neat pile with the remnants of your clothes and you were weak from hunger. Seeming to read your mind, Chilchuck firmly placed the plate to the side out of your reach, along with his own. 
You scowled at him angrily, but were distracted by Senshi pushing a delicious smelling bowl into your hands. 
"There you go! Whipped you up just a quick broth. Drink that SLOWLY now, and then you can probably have a bit of meat." 
You took one sip and then chugged the whole bowl, gasping for breath between every few gulps. Your stomach screamed at you insistently. You NEEDED this you HAD to have it. 
A few minutes later you, thankfully, barely, made it outside to vomit up the contents of your stomach into the snow outside instead of all over your clean clothes. 
As you retched into the snow you heard the opening to the sauna pull back and Chilchuck say "you see? This would have been a lot worse if you'd had solid food in you. Come back inside once you're done and we can try again." 
You weakly told him to fuck off, and he just snorted a bit and popped back inside. 
You walked back inside already ready to be on the defensive, you'd just wasted perfectly good food after all. But Senshi just beckoned you over with some more broth and a spoon. "Now take one bite, and then count to 3, and then another bite, and you should be able to keep this down." 
you sat there and slowly, determinedly, got the whole bowl down without losing control or throwing up again. 
Once you finished, Senshi smiled broadly. "Very good! Now lets give it a couple hours and you should be able to drink some more! This was just a quick preparation, but I'll go make you some actual soup that'll still be easy on the stomach!" 
You watched Senshi happily start to cook again in bemusement. 
You sat down next to Chilchuck against the wall and said in a low voice. "Is he....always like that?"
"What, obsessed with cooking? Yeah no he loves it. Laois is the same but with monsters, and then Marcille is weird about magic. Weird magic too." He cast a furtive glance at Marcille, who seemed to be happily occupied in mending some article of clothing. "Izutzumi just kinda hangs out but she doesn't do anything she doesn't want to do." 
You nodded thoughtfully, digesting the information.
"And are they...." You paused, considering how to ask this. "They seem to treat you....well."
Chilchuck scoffed. "Ah times have changed since you were frozen, the union's helped with that. Contracts are hammered out in advance and they have to stick to it no matter what. I get paid in advance, I don't fight, I'm not bait, and I have an equal say in the party. Anything less and I'm out of here."
You nodded again. That was good. That was very good. Having another halffoot to travel with was going to be great. Just one issue....you didn't have a contract with this party. 
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