#anyone else can ask me questions about this too!

[pisoprano]

Somehow the Jubilation dream gets leaked to the public, specifically a still of Ladybug and Chat Noir kissing at their wedding. A Ladynoir stan becomes so wracked by all the emotions that they end up akumatized as Honeymooner.

Before either Ladybug or Chat Noir can do a thing to combat the akuma, they’re transported to a game show dimension...

--

Honeymooner: Welcome Ladybug and Chat Noir! I am your host, Honeymooner! And I can’t believe you two went and got married and didn’t tell anyone! For shame!

Ladybug: We didn’t actually—

Honeymooner: I have the picture of you both dressed in white right here!

Chat Noir: Really, that was a side effect of the akuma—

Honeymooner: Puh-lease! You two weren’t Couple of the Year for nothing! And I’m going to prove that you two are perfectly perfect for each other by having you play The Newlywed Game! I’ll ask a question and you’ll tell us who you think it applies to more. If you’re right, the wedding bells will ‘ding!’ If you’re wrong, the wedding bells will ‘dong!’ If you’re both right oh, let's say five times, I’ll let you both get back to your honeymoon *wink*!

Monarch: And I’ll know what Ladybug and Chat Noir’s real names are, muahahaha!

Honeymooner: Oh, and I suppose Monarch's giving me the first question: Do you know your partner’s real name?

Ladybug: No.

Chat Noir: No.

Wedding bells: *dong! dong!*

Honeymooner: Incorrect! Both of you are incorrect!

Chat Noir: I’m not lying! *realizes that Ladybug (along with the rest of Paris) has definitely heard the name ‘Adrien Agreste’* But maybe Ladybug has heard my name before? It’s really common!

Ladybug: *remembers Chat calling her ‘Marinette Dupain Cheng’ multiple times* Mine too! So so common!

Honeymooner: I guess that tracks. Moving on, it’s my turn for questions!

Monarch: Hey! I didn’t get to—

Honeymooner: Question 2! When did your partner fall in love with you?

Chat Noir: She didn't fall in love with me.

Ladybug: Exactly! I’m not in love with him!

Honeymooner: Remember, for this question you are answering for your partner, not yourself!

Ladybug: Uh… maybe around our first battle with Glaciator?

Wedding bells: *dong! dong!*

Honeymooner: Both of you are incorrect! Tell us, when did you really fall in love?

Chat Noir: When we first defeated Stoneheart… I told myself I didn't care who was behind that mask, I loved that girl...

Honeymooner: Since the beginning! We all swoon! Now Ladybug, tell us! When did your feelings start?

Ladybug: I… well… maybe I just had some feelings I never noticed…? Not that I can get into an actual relationship right now!

Honeymooner: *points at the wedding kiss picture* I think you’re a little late for that! Question 3! Let’s get into your preferences! What is your partner’s favorite color!

Ladybug: Black.

Chat Noir: Uh… re— *sees Ladybug glaring at him and changes his answer at the last second by imagining what her civilian self would pick, then basing his guess on his 'Everyday Ladybug'*—pink?

Wedding bells: *dong! ding!*

Honeymooner: Chat Noir is correct!

Monarch: What kind of a question was that? I need to know more about what’s behind their masks!

Honeymooner: It seems our butterflyness has something else he wants to know, so: Question 4! What color is your partner’s eyes?

Monarch: That’s not what I asked!

Chat Noir: Blue!

Ladybug: Green!

Wedding bells: *ding! ding!*

Honeymooner: Correct! Hey, you both got one right! I knew you knew each other so well! Only four more times with both of you getting it right to go!

Ladybug: Just for the record, I might have different color eyes when I’m not wearing the mask. And Chat’s got the eyes of a cat, so his eyes could be any color in real life!

Chat Noir: R-right! What my lady said!

Honeymooner: But clearly the fact that you knew means you spend a lot of time looking, tee-hee! Oh, I know what I want to ask! Question 5! Who has spent more time looking at pictures of their partner on their phone!

Ladybug: Chat.

Chat Noir: Me.

Wedding bells: *dong! dong!*

Honeymooner: Incorrect! Ooh, Ladybug, you’re such a voyeur and no one has any idea! So scandalous!

Chat Noir: *remembers he’s Adrien Agreste* Oh, I probably skewed those results since my photos are on my computer instead of my phone!

Ladybug: Y-yeah, and I’m constantly checking the Ladyblog so I keep seeing Chat Noir on the site’s icons!

Honeymooner: Ohoho! So you are someone who's taken steps to be actively engaged with society, hm....? Well, we thought it was such a travesty when you didn’t inform us of your engagement!

Monarch: Ask what echelons of society they run in!

Honeymooner: Question 6! If you were both attending a fancy party with the snobbiest elites in Paris, who would end up making a social faux paus first?

Monarch: NOT! WHAT! I! ASKED!

Ladybug: Chat, definitely. His posture alone would keep this stray from getting through the front doors!

Chat Noir: Meow-ch, I am offended! I’m a purebred feline, thank you very much! I would never make a breach of etiquette, so be default you’d be the first to make faux paws, my lady.

Wedding bells: *dong! ding!*

Honeymooner: Chat Noir is correct! Ladybug, this man is literally the prince of your dreams, you need to take him to a masquerade ball, he will sweep you off your feet and it’ll be so magical…

Ladybug: This is all just hypothetical! And who knows, I can be a bit clumsy sometimes—

Chat Noir: Madly clumsy.

Ladybug: Shut up.

Chat Noir: I will once you start getting more questions about me right!

Ladybug: I've gotten some things right!

Chat Noir: You've gotten one thing right. Which you literally knew since the moment we met. Come on, you know me, Bugaboo. And we'll prove it to the Honeymooner just how much.

--

They do manage to prove they both know each other. After 913 questions, anyway.

concept: an akuma that forces Ladybug and Chat Noir to play some version of the Newlywed Game. in order to beat the akuma they have to get enough questions about the other correct, but the questions often will be random obscure facts about their civilian lives. akuma magically knows the correct answers to all questions asked but still only asks completely useless questions that does nothing to help the butterfly figure out their identities, just enough to have ladybug baffled by how bad she is at guessing about what chat noir's personal life is like

[yuikomorii]

AYAYUI IDOL AU: Chapter 2

// It’s time for the second chapter! This one focuses more on the conversations with other characters than on Ayayui interactions, but I’m really curious to see if anyone can guess who the second Diaboy to meet Yui will be. 👀

This story isn’t meant to be a harem or anything like that though, but all the Diaboys will meet Yui at some point. I hope you enjoy this chapter until the next one! 💖

Chapter 1

Place: Dorms

Ayato: Good night.

Laito: Nighty night~!

— Ayato enters his room —

Laito: ( Hmm… he seems unusually quiet. He hasn’t said a single word the entire way, which is so unlike him. )

( It’s as if something’s weighing on his mind, that he’s deliberately keeping to himself. )

( Something must have surely happened to him when he went outside, but why won’t he say anything? That’s weird… )

— stretches and yawns —

Anyway, there’s no point in overthinking it. As long as it doesn’t damage his and our reputation, it’s not worth worrying about.

Place: Ayato’s room

Ayato: ( Phew, I managed to slip into my bed without waking Shu up. )

( The last thing I needed was a lecture about sneaking off to the club as an idol and nearly getting caught. )

( Haa… what a mess. I really made a fool of myself today, didn’t I? )

( If it weren’t for that girl, I’d probably be in the hospital right now, all over the news for alcohol poisoning. )

( Man, that would’ve totally wrecked my career… )

???: Heh, where have you been?

Ayato: …!

( Was that—)

O-Oi, you’re not sleeping!?

Shu: I was until a certain someone tripped over the WI-FI cable and woke me up.

Ayato: ( Fuck! )

Shu: But whatever, I answered your question, so now it’s your turn to answer mine.

— opens one eye and looks at him —

Ayato: ( Wait… I could just make something up and play it off as the truth! )

( Heh, exactly! There’s no way he’d be able to tell it’s a lie! )

Just practicing. I want to be the best version of myself for the next concert, y’know?

Shu: Hmm… I see.

And now, what’s the real answer?

Ayato: …!?

( How did he— )

Hah? W-What do you mean? I’m telling the truth!

— Shu opens both eyes and looks at him —

Shu: You went there, didn’t you?

Ayato: …!

( This guy… he can see through me! )

How the hell did you know that I went to the night club!?

Shu: Heh~? So I was right after all. You really did go there, huh?

Ayato: ( You… You fucking tricked me! )

Look, I know I’m not the best at keeping things together, but don’t tell Reiji! I beg you!

If the leader finds out, the staff will know, and once the CEO hears, I’m done! He’ll fire me in a heartbeat, no questions asked!

Shu: You’re overreacting. No idol is gonna get fired for just going to a night club.

Ayato: Man, you just don’t get it! It’s not just about going there— it’s what went down while I was there!

Shu: Oh? Now you’ve got me curious. What exactly happened?

— starts piping —

Ayato: ( Why do I keep getting myself in this!? )

( Haa… but I guess there’s no point in running away from my issues anymore. )

Basically, I was very tired and thought of over drinking to get my mind think of something else, but the alcohol and exhaustion made a really bad combination, so my chest started aching.

I went outside to get some air, but the pain just kept getting worse until this random chick found me and gave me her water bottle.

Shu: Wait… so you got caught?

Ayato: Luckily, no! As crazy as this sounds, she didn’t recognize me.

Heck, she even asked for my name after I called her a cab! But of course, I’m not that dumb. I knew it would have been way too risky to tell her my name.

( Honestly, I don’t even know why I was so anxious about it. In the end, everything worked out just fine, and I bet that girl will forget all about it in a few hours anyway. )

Shu: Hmm… you do realize that might have merely been an act, don’t you?

Ayato: Huh? What do you mean…?

Shu: Women are sly as foxes.

They’ll play all innocent and clueless, behaving like they have no idea what’s going on, but in reality, they’re just getting exactly what they want without anyone even realizing it.

Heh, it’s almost impressive how they pull it off.

Ayato: Wait… so you mean that girl knew who I was and only pretended not to so as to stalk me? But if that’s the case, then——

Shu: Haa… no need to scream, it’s almost 3 in the morning.

I’m not saying she’s a stalker, but you should probably be more cautious.

You know how fangirls are. If they see you talking to any girl that’s not them, they’ll lose it. Better to just watch out and avoid any unnecessary trouble.

— closes eyes again —

Not just for you, but for everyone else around too.

Ayato’s monologue

Shu’s right. I need to step up my game and start taking this job more seriously.

Being an idol isn’t just a paycheck; it’s a responsibility that goes far beyond me.

Every choice I make carries weight, and not just for my future, but for the company’s and everyone I work with.

Yeah… Exactly. If I let my career fall apart, it’s not only me who’ll feel it— the whole team, every project, and all the hard work we’ve put into this place will take a hit as well.

That’s why, from now on, I’m done making stupid decisions that could mess everything up. My focus is on my idol activities and nothing else.

I should have realized from the moment I signed the contract that living like a normal teenager just isn’t part of the deal anymore.

*Timeskip*

Place: Hotel kitchen

Yui: ( Working here is surprisingly relaxing. Not only that, but the co-workers I met seem very nice too! )

( I’m really excited to put my cooking skills to good use. From what I remember, this hotel has a great reputation, therefore it’s truly amazing to learn from such experienced professionals. )

???: Noooo!!!

Yui: …!?

( It’s coming from the storeroom! )

— quickly opens it —

???: ….!

Yui: Hana-san!

I-I heard you scream, are you alright?

Hana: Wa—… Was I really that loud? This is so embarrassing… I’m so sorry!

— covers face with hands —

Yui: Ah, there’s no need to worry about that, it’s fine.

More importantly, what happened? Did something scare you?

Hana: No, I’m not scared, more like… disappointed.

In case you haven’t heard already, the SAKAMAKIS are filming a special episode for their YouTube channel at three different locations, and guess what? My two favorite members are coming to this hotel in 4 days, but the issue is... it’s happening right when I’m not on shift…!

— starts crying —

On top of that, I promised my sister I’d visit her in Fukuoka, since we'll both be off work at the same time, which means that there’s absolutely no way I can meet them now!

This is such terrible timing…!

Yui: ( SAKAMAKIS… Based on Hana-san’s intense reaction, they must be some sort of important public figures, no? )

Oww… it does sound unfortunate, but you shouldn’t give up hope completely. After all, you live in Japan, so I’m sure there’s always a chance you’ll get to meet them!

Hana: It’s not as easy as you say…

They will return to Korea soon, and who knows when they’ll promote in Japan again? This was my only opportunity to see them outside of the concerts… and I couldn’t even manage to get any decent seats there.

— pouts —

Yui: ( Wait, did she say ‘concerts’? )

Ohh, I see. So they’re idols!

Hana: Eh? You… You actually don’t know the SAKAMAKIS—!?

Yui: W-Well… I’m sorry, the name doesn't really ring a bell, and to be honest, I can’t say I’m familiar with the idol world in general.

Hana: But come on, you must have at least seen their faces before, right?

— shows her a picture of them —

Yui: ( Will she be let down again if I say ‘no’? )

( Hmm… But truth be told, these boys are undeniably good-looking, and it’s clear that they must be hardworking as well, considering how they manage to juggle such hectic schedules. )

( I can easily see why they’ve captured the hearts of such passionate fans. )

— eyes suddenly widen —

( The red-haired one——! )

— blushes —

Hana: So, who did steal Yui-san’s heart~?

Yui: Ah, n-nobody…!

— gets embarrassed —

It’s just that the boy in middle… he got an incredibly well-featured face. I don’t know how to put it into words, but he simply appears unreal.

( To think that a human could look like this… it makes me a bit envious. His eyes and face shape are especially pretty. )

— Hana starts laughing —

Yui: ( Eh? Did I say something wrong? )

Hana: Get in line, that’s Ayato-san!

Hmph… just the thought of not being able to see his tiny, perfect face up close makes my heart ache.

Yui: ( Hana-san… she really seems to love this group a lot. )

( I can't help but think that if I were in her shoes, I'd feel hurt too not being able to see someone I admire so much… )

Hey, Hana-san… I know it’s not exactly the same as having it personally from him, but if it’s possible, I’d be more than willing to ask Ayato-san for an autograph on your behalf!

Hana: Eh—? Would you really do that for me!?

Yui-san, you are the best!

— hugs her —

Yui: I-It’s nothing, really.

Hana: Wait a little—! Now that I think about it, you could also totally grab a photo with them! Isn’t that wonderful?

( I can’t believe it! This way I’ll be just one person away from Ayato-san! )

Yui: Uuh… I’m sure it’d be a nice memory to look back on, but wouldn’t it bother you if I did? After all, you’ve been their loyal fan all this time, not me.

Besides, there’s no guarantee that they would agree to take a picture with an ordinary person such as myself.

Hana: That doesn’t matter, silly! They’re super chill with their fans, and everyone says they never turn down a picture request— unless they’re busy, of course. There’s no way they’d refuse you, especially not in a setting like this.

You also mentioned being captivated by Ayato-san’s visuals, so fan or not, I think anyone would jump at the chance to take a picture with such a fine man~!

Yui’s monologue

Hana-san and I continued to talk about it for a while, and during our conversation, she suggested a few of their songs for me to listen to on my way back to the Airbnb.

At first, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but as I played each one, I was pleasantly surprised.

While I’m still not very knowledgeable about this group, the melodies, the lyrics, and even the energy in their performances were captivating in a way I hadn’t expected.

That Ayato boy… he seems like someone who was born to be on stage. Such charisma and beauty… It really makes me wonder how he acts off-cameras.

Hana-san has clearly supported the SAKAMAKIS for such a long time, and to finally get the chance to meet them, only to have it slip through her fingers, must be heartbreaking.

A part of me can’t shake the feeling of guilt, even though I know very well that it wasn’t my or anyone’s fault.

It might not be a fair comparison, I know, but it reminded me of the boy I met yesterday.

He has probably forgotten about me already, but just like Hana-san dreams of meeting her idols, I find myself wishing to meet him again.

Author’s note:

* In case you're wondering why Ayato is sharing a room with Shu and not Laito, many companies assign roommates to idols randomly. The idea is that idols are supposed to get along with everyone, so the arrangement is made to promote harmony and teamwork, regardless of personal preferences.

[supper-ansuta-broth]

Hey guys!

As of the most recent Akatsuki event, fans of Ensemble Stars! across the globe have begun voicing their anger with the distasteful, ignorant, and outright bigoted nature of the franchise's story as a whole (most prominently (but not exclusively) its racist structure, undertones, plot points, and rhetoric). I have always been of the opinion that Happy Elements K.K. as a company is not worthy of respect, and wholly do not care about fans' and users' input, feelings, concerns, and criticisms. Time and time again, H.E. have not only put their own bottom line first, but have made it their only concern.

Needless to say, I am not only disappointed but infuriated with this company. While I am an optimist who hopes to see the best come from any situation, this is not one of the cases where this would be a realistic outlook. Because of this, posts on here will likely be infrequent, as I don't want anyone to believe that even for a moment I think their decisions are excusable.

That being said, while I encourage everyone to do their part in reminding H.E. over and over how much harm they've caused and the colossal damage they've done to their IP, I must also remind everyone that most of a gacha's game's profits come from the small percentage of its highest paying players (i.e. "whales"), and that H.E. has a long history of not listening to its playerbase's concerns and criticisms, even going as far as to silence them and block them for speaking up. They do not care what you think. They care about money, first foremost and only. Be active and speak up, don't support their shitty business practices, but don't run yourselves into the ground in the process of doing so, because at the end of the day they will continue trucking along-- they are too big to fail.

I encourage everyone to direct their focus towards fan creators, and send them as much of your kindness and love as possible. Support the people who create things due to passion and love, not just for money. Enstars has been lacking passionate stories for a long time anyway, with only a handful every now and again. Everyone who creates anything, no matter their skill level, deserves compassion and support. And if you're someone who wants to create something but fears mediocrity, create it anyway. Every great artist was consistently mediocre until they grew enough in their skill to start producing some things they like.

Additionally, this is in no way the fault of the seiyuu, the employees of H.E. who are not in charge of making decisions for the story, or anyone else who isn't directly involved with the meat of what makes Enstars, Enstars. These people are not to blame. Direct your ire towards the writers, the executives, and anyone else who allows these decisions to pass.

That's all I have to say for now. If you have any questions, feel free to send me an ask. I can't guarantee I'll get around to everything in a timely manner, but I assure you I will answer anything I can. Thank you for reading.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐚

Toji Fushiguro

[Chapter 1] Indecent Proposal

Story Masterlist

Pairing: Knight!Toji Fushiguro x Princess!Reader

Chapter Warnings: Suggestive Content, Minor Sex Talk

Story Summary: This is what'll get Toji killed... But how can he reject her when she looks up at him with such beautiful eyes? A man that's been to war won't be killed by the edge of a sword but rather the lips of a woman.

He shouldn’t lay a finger on her, but he’ll do anything that she asks him to. She’s his princess, he has to follow her every word.

No taglist

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi - Bluesky

“Toji!” You yell from the top of your lungs, and the man that stands outside your door can’t help but sigh. He knocks on the door of your room, only for you to yell some obscenities. He rolls his eyes before opening the door. 

What a kind and proper princess. He’s won wars only to deal with this. The scars on his body mean nothing. Protecting the princess should be of the highest honor– If only she weren’t such a brat.

“What, princess?” He questions as his eyes widen. It should be no shocker to find you underdressed, but he can’t help but be surprised each and every time. You truly don’t view him as a man.

“Help me with the corset.” You order as his eyes land on your maid. The woman has stepped aside to let him take charge. 

“Isn’t it tight enough?” He questions, seeing how tight it looks. It looks proper enough, but it seems that you want it to suffocate you. Your request alone tells him where you’re going tonight.

“Get to work.” You tell him, not answering his question. He’s right, it is tight enough, but it could be tighter. Toji grabs the strings on the back and you hold your breath as he pulls. Tonight is going to be long, but it’ll all be worth it.

“Where are we going?” He foolishly asks, as if he didn’t know. You’re trying to see those who you call friends. The ones that snicker when you turn your back to them. 

“Did you forget, Toji?” You ask as he pulls some more. He furrows his eyebrows, trying to recall what’s happening tonight. There’s no response from him, letting you know that he’s completely forgotten. “My engagement party.”

“Of course, finally.” He responds. “You’re finally meeting the prince that I’ve been hearing nonstop about for–” 

“He isn’t here.” You cut him off, leaving the man at a loss for words. An engagement party with no groom, what else did Toji expect from royalty? “He couldn’t make it tonight so we’re moving on without him.”

“Will this happen at the wedding too?” Toji mutters, something that your keen hearing picks up on. And you just can’t keep your mouth quiet about it, you have to say something. 

“Shut up, Toji. What do peasants even know about weddings?” You roll your eyes before they fall on your maid. You mouth an apology to her for your comment; it’s meant to offend Toji, not her. 

The old woman laughs, finding the bickering as a great source of entertainment. She got annoyed with it at first, but after two years of watching it happen before her eyes, she’s grown fond of it. It’s nice to see you get along with someone that’s just not her. Maybe getting along isn’t the right phrase to describe your relationship with Toji, but she’s not sure how else to put it.

“Do you think we get married in a pig’s sty or what?” Toji questions as he lets you go, patting your back twice to let you know that he’s done. 

“Yes. In a place full of shit and with loud animals.” You add, making Toji scoff. In a way, Toji should be honored. You don’t speak to anyone else like this.

“Just shout my name if you need anything else.” He responds, something that he shouldn’t even bother saying since that’s what’ll happen anyway. Your voice stops him before he can walk out the door.

“Emerald uniform tonight.” You remind him, and he hums in response. An improper response, but proper for an improper princess.

“Toji.” The man hears from a sweet familiar voice. He’s hiding in the kitchen, filling his stomach up before the engagement party tonight. He already feels it in his veins, tonight will be interminable.

“Hanako, can I help you?” Toji asks as he stuffs his mouth with a crab cake. Kitchen staff have slapped his hand one too many times tonight, but he still manages to sneak some food in. “Does the princess need me?” 

“The kitchen staff told me to come here to drag you away.” Your old maid tells him, making him click his tongue. He can’t even enjoy a proper meal in the damned castle. 

“I’m just having a short meal before watching over the brat and her friends tonight.” Toji’s words are barely comprehensible with all the food in his mouth.

“Do not refer to the princess as a brat.” Hanako slaps the back of his head, making the man whine. Who thought that such an old woman could have such a firm hand? “She is a very kind woman, do not speak like that about her.”

“Why does the princess hate me then?” He questions, his hand rubbing the spot that Hanako hit.

“The princess does not hate you.” She responds, and he rolls his eyes.

Right, is that why you insult him so much? Toji doesn’t care enough about it, but he does notice how you treat him differently from everyone else. You’re kind to everyone in your surroundings— Whether they’re royalty or the help. But Toji? He’s a whole different story.

“Then why does she act the way she does?” He asks, and the old woman can’t help but chuckle. She should keep her mouth quiet about it, but there’s no harm in it. You’ll be getting married soon.

“Well, dear, don’t tell anyone else this but…” She begins, looking around the kitchen. Everyone is too worried about making a feast, that they aren’t paying attention. She still does lower her voice before confessing to him, “The princess has a tiny crush on you, and she isn’t a woman that’s in touch with her feelings.”

His eyes widen as his lips turn into a straight line. The old woman is messing with him… He didn’t expect it from Hanako of all people, but he’s been proven wrong. 

“A crush, huh? Don’t lie to me, old woman.” Toji’s words earn him another slap, this time on his forehead. He whines again, rubbing that spot as he tells her, “You have such a firm hand…”

“Respect your elders.” She tells him, hand wrapping around his wrist to drag him out of the kitchen. He should fight it, but he knows better than to argue with the elderly.

“Toji…” Toji’s sick of hearing his name, and the night is far from over… How could he forget that the engagement party is tonight?

His eyes fall on Mayu, a maid that works closely with him in the castle. She smiles brightly at Toji, a man that can’t return the sentiment. He’s exhausted to say the least.

“Hi, Mayu.” He greets her, not caring to look twice at her. She’s a nice girl that keeps Toji company whenever he’s not watching after a certain someone that makes him want to rip his hair out. However, whenever he’s working he’s not all that interested in her.

“The emerald uniform tonight, huh? The princess insisted that everyone wears this awful color.” The woman laughs, hoping that Toji joins in, but his mind is elsewhere. Toji ponders on the old woman’s comment– A crush on him? She’s turning senile.

“The princess gets what she wants.” He replies, making Mayu hum in response. She keeps trying to make conversation with him, but it’s obvious that the man doesn’t care enough. He zones out for a minute, in which he realizes that she’s still talking. 

“So I was wondering…” She begins, and he raises his eyebrow. “Will you–”

“Toji!” She’s interrupted before she can ask her question. She rolls her eyes, realizing that it’s by none other than the woman herself. Her eyebrows furrow when she sees the man’s reaction. His jaw nearly drops as he realizes why you’ve chosen emerald of all colors for tonight, luckily, he manages to remain his composure.

“What is it, princess?” Toji responds, while Mayu begins to walk away. You walk over to him, looking both ways to see if you spot the old woman.

“Have you seen Hanako? She’s supposed to help me get ready.” You ask him as he looks you up and down. He’s almost checking you out– But oh, your father would tear him to shreds. 

“You look ready to me. Certainly not how I found you earlier.” He answers, and a frown comes to your face. That wasn’t the question you asked, so why is he answering like that? 

“Answer my question, Toji.” You tell him, which ends up with him shrugging.

“Don’t know. Last time we talked, she was dragging me out of the kitchen.” He informs you, making you laugh as you shake your head disappointedly. 

“When do you not think about eating?” You point out, and he puts his hands up defensively.

“I wouldn’t be this hungry if you fed me.” He argues, making you click your tongue.

“You’re a big boy, you can feed yourself.” You argue back, and he gives you a peculiar look before clearing his throat.

“Touché, princess. Next time I’ll leave my post to get myself some food.” He replies, speaking to you as if he’s won the argument. However, there’s no way to win an argument if you’re involved. 

“You know you can leave without an issue.” You tell him, which makes him cross his arms. You stare at each other for a minute before he reminds you,

“Your father would kill me.”

“I don’t need protection all day every day.” You respond.

“Your father would kill me.” He emphasizes, making you scoff. He’s won, but you’d never admit it.

“I’ll feed you, just help me put on my necklace.” You say, and he has no other option but to follow behind you. He’s no longer hungry, but it’s not like he has the option to refuse to help you.

Toji stands in the doorway, watching as you rummage to find the necklace you’re wearing tonight. Knowing you, you probably lost it in a matter of hours. It’s funny, you have so much that you hold little regard to a piece of jewelry that could secure the stability and wellbeing of a village.

Luck is really a hilarious concept. You have everything while so many struggle to survive. Not only wealth, but the looks and intelligence that many people lack. Your only downside is that you’re a damned brat, but even poor people can act like you do. Maybe that’s why you annoy Toji so easily, you have nearly everything a person could ask for, yet you fail to realize it.

“Bingo!” You exclaim, proudly holding up the velvety black box. You walk over towards Toji, and hand it to him. He scoffs, when you fail to open the box, which is the simplest task that he can think of. 

His eyes glimmer when he opens the box, admiring the beautiful stones that will adorn your neck tonight. No farmer will ever see this much money in their lifetime, let alone hold it in their hands like Toji is right now. He can’t ponder on that thought though, there’s nothing he can do about it. 

That’s just the way life is.

He takes the necklace and puts it on your neck, his big fingers struggling with the small clasp. He mutters a few curses under his breath, causing you to laugh. Toji rarely struggles on a task, and apparently, this is one of them.

“You know, I can save you a dance if you’d like.” You say out of the blue, trying to make conversation to fill in the gaps of silence. You know Toji enough to know that he’ll reject it, but maybe just maybe, tonight he’ll change his mind.

“I have two left feet.” He answers, making you chuckle. You should’ve expected as much– At least this time around he didn’t bring up how inappropriate it’d be, and how he’s just the protection. Toji finally gets the necklace on. 

“Luckily for you, I have two right feet so I balance it out.” You respond, turning around and grabbing his hands. He’s quick to retract them from your grasp. Toji likes to play it safe. Once upon a time, he was completely different but once upon a time he didn’t work in the castle. 

“A proper princess such as yourself shall not dance with a peasant.” He’s using the various arguments he’s heard throughout the years against you, and he can tell that you’re not exactly pleased with it. You puff out a breath, crossing your arms.

“Suit yourself.” You say, walking out of the room to which he’s forced to follow. “Just so you know, that was a once in a lifetime offer. I’ll never ask you to dance with me again.”

“I won’t be missing out.” He comments, making you momentarily glare at him. At that moment he thinks of the old woman’s words again… A crush? Maybe she isn’t as senile as he thought.

“Toji.” The same soft voice from earlier calls out his name, and he rolls his eyes. It’s nothing against Mayu, she’s a sweet girl, Toji is just sick of hearing the stupid name over and over again. He doesn’t even like it, so why do people love to say it?

He looks around the ballroom, excessively decorated just for one night. The palace is always clean, and decorated but never this pristine. There’s flowers in every corner and he swears he sees his reflection on the floor. There’s a massive orchestra performing for the guests, playing music that can bore him to death. 

The castle almost looks lively. Almost.

“What is it?” He sounds annoyed. He’s just standing in the corner, waiting for the princess to make her grand entrance before he’s allowed to take a break. The place is going to be filled with guards, he’s not needed until you decide to leave.

“I was wondering if you’d… Like to dance with me after all of these guests leave?” She looks down at the ground in shame, quickly regretting the question. He should be the one to ask, but she knows that he’d never step up and do it. She just assumes that it just isn’t the type of guy Toji is.

“After the orchestra leaves? With what music?” Toji responds, and she bites down her lip. She never really thought about that.

“Perhaps the princess will give us a chance to dance. It is courting season.” She says, making Toji chuckle. It’s not for the reason she thinks though.

“Courting season is for noblewomen.” He reminds her, a rather harsh reminder. Maybe in another life she’ll be born as the princess, but she certainly doesn’t have that sort of luck this time around.

“Right.” She subtly nods, disappointed by the answer. She bites down her lip, looking around the place. She tries to change the topic to something that Toji would be more willing to talk about, “Is the princess being insufferable today?”

She’s met by a cold gaze, and she just wants to dig a hole and crawl in it. Nothing she says or does impresses him. She should know better than to try.

“Hey, Toji…” She mutters again, just as you make your grand entrance. The way his pupils dilate as he watches you come down the stairs. There’s no change in facial expression, but his eyes are a dead giveaway.

She’s ignored, but she doesn’t try again. She won’t compete with a princess. Toji will eventually crawl to her. One morning he’ll wake up and realize that he’ll never be accepted into royalty.

His eyes are dead set on you, as you begin to dance with your father. The first dance should be for your fiancé… Yet, the man isn’t here. Toji wonders what the point of an engagement party is if your fiancé isn’t here. You’ll just stand in a corner, and watch everyone dance whilst the jealous nobles speak ill of you.

He’s noticed that everything the royals do is for show. Otherwise, this engagement party would’ve been canceled.

“I’m taking my break.” Mayu comments, something that falls on deaf ears again. Toji should leave behind Mayu, but he keeps staring at you. He’s watching as you walk over to the group of women that you call your friends. 

Toji rolls his eyes before following Mayu, deciding that he won’t watch you make a fool of yourself tonight. 

“Toji.” He’s nearly drooling on the kitchen table, his drowsiness getting the best of him. He doesn’t know whether he wants to kill them or thank them for waking him up; he guesses it’s the latter since he’s still on duty. He doesn’t want to be caught slacking off, especially not by–

“Princess?! What are you doing back here?” His eyes snap wide open at the realization that it’s you. At least it’s not the king. You won’t get him in trouble for sleeping. A big yawn escapes his lips before he asks, “Aren’t you supposed to be dancing the night away?”

“You know…” You begin, taking a seat with him on the table. He notices the spark in your eyes is gone, knowing that it’s all because of your friends. They said something and now you’re here, instead of enjoying your engagement party. “An engagement party isn’t all that fun when your fiancée isn’t there.”

“Well, I’m sure he had a great reason.” Another yawn escapes Toji’s lips as he tries to reassure you. It’s not late or anything, the day just tires you out when all you hear is your name being called over and over again. 

“I wouldn’t know myself.” You awkwardly chuckle, and now he knows the talking point of the evening. He doesn’t know how, but the women manage to get under your skin. You just seek approval from everyone, perhaps it’s because you don’t have many friends.

“If it helps, I have a huge sword that can take care of the problem.” Toji jokes, but you furrow your eyebrows. You have no idea what he’s talking about, and he won’t explain himself either. He clears his throat before asking, “Do you want to take a walk?”

“Yeah.” You end up agreeing, standing up from your chair. He walks behind you as you look for an exit, which ends up on him grabbing your hand and leading you to the outside. You’ve lived in this castle for over twenty years, yet he knows the place better than you. It’s good that he’s by your side, because you’d be lost otherwise.

You can still hear the music from the orchestra inside, the sound becoming faint as you walk further away. You might not know your way inside, but you know the walk straight to the garden from anywhere.

Toji won’t speak unless he’s spoken to, that’s his role.

“Do you think it’s dumb to marry someone you don’t know?” You suddenly ask him, walking to the fountain that ties together the garden. Toji bites down his tongue. Being honest isn’t the best policy here. He knows how to pick his battles, and frankly, this isn’t one that’s worth fighting. 

Sure, you tend to bicker a lot but he says stuff that is harmless. He never plans to hurt your feelings, it’s not something he intends to face the consequences for. 

“Toji, answer.” You insist, hating the silence that you’re met with. “Staying silent is an answer either way.”

“Well…” He sighs. You take a seat on the edge of the fountain, looking up at the man. He looks hesitant, telling you all you need to know. “I’ve always thought that you’re supposed to marry for love.”

“Yeah…” You look down at the ground, almost in shame. Toji doesn’t understand why, because you have everything a human could ask for– He married for love once, and it was stripped from his hands. Love doesn’t secure anything; the power and money in your hands is a guarantee to a good life.

“It’s not worth it anyway.” Toji reassures you, something that he rarely does. He doesn’t have to, you’re never self conscious. Unless you bump into your friends, then your mind completely changes.

“Right! You were married once, how was that?” You look back up at him, curiosity brimming your eyes. Toji shakes his head, deciding not to speak. You end up sighing before talking again, “They know more about him than I do… And it feels weird.”

“What do they know?” He asks, and he watches you bite down your lip. Your face ends up going into your hands as you tell him,

“They say he’s a sex freak.” Your words come muffled, and he blames what he hears on that. Those words did not just come out of your mouth.

He frowns before asking, “What did you say, princess? I didn’t quite catch that.”

“He’s known to be promiscuous.” He hears you loud and clear this time around, and his eyes go wide. He’s perplexed by the response, but he shouldn’t be. Royalty or not, a man is still a man. He’s not sure how to answer, leaving you to speak by yourself. “What if I’m not enough for him? I mean I know nothing and–”

“I’m sure you’ll be more than enough.” Toji ends up cutting you off before you can ramble. You furrow your eyebrows, crossing your arms like the damned brat that you are.

“For you, maybe.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He quickly asks, and you click your tongue.

“You’re a peasant. Peasants are satisfied with anything they pick from a brothel– But he’s royalty.” You explain, making Toji scoff. He mimics you, crossing his arms while staring you down.

“Where do you think your royal prince is going to be promiscuous?” He leans down, getting into your face. If the king saw him, his head would roll off for being too close to the precious princess. “Maybe you’re right. I wouldn’t be satisfied with you either.”

“Good thing you’ll never be the prince.” You stick out your tongue at him, and Toji rolls his eyes. 

“You’ll be fine, princess.” He ends up telling you, but that’s not enough to soothe the sudden wave of nerves. “You need to stop listening to those women. They’re jealous of your status.”

“Toji…” Your breath hitches, thinking if you really want to ask him the question. No, you shouldn’t. It’s not appropriate– You still spit it out, “How do you have sex?”

“Princess, I was there when they taught you this. I don’t have to explain this to you.” Toji quickly answers, trying to look unphased by the rather odd question. It’s a good thing someone else is raising his son because he doesn’t know how to handle it. “Which was quite weird, considering you were well into your twenties.”

“No, I mean how is it enjoyable? How do you make a man enjoy it?” You’re practically interrogating him, and while Toji isn’t one to get nervous, this isn’t sitting well with him.  

“It’s just something that…” He begins, and he can’t bring himself to say it. Instead he extends his hand for you to take, insisting, “Let’s go back inside.”

“What?” You’re quite annoyed that he doesn’t give you the answer to your question.

“Look, princess. There’s no explanation. It just feels good when it’s with the right person, that’s that.” He ends up giving in, very clearly sharing your sentiment of annoyance. “Now, let’s go back inside before your father kills me.”

“Fine.” You roll your eyes, taking his hand and standing up. He guides you back inside, where you’re everyone’s prey once again. Your eyes keep wandering back to him, but before you know it, Toji’s out of sight.

“Hmm… Toji.” She knew that this is how she’d end up tonight. No matter how much Toji tries to ignore her, he ends up coming back to her in the darkest moments of the night. 

Toji marks Mayu’s neck, knowing that she had no way of hiding it tomorrow. She likes to think that it’s because he’s possessive, rather than him just being reckless. It doesn’t matter the reason, she’s still digging her nails into his back as his kisses get lower and riskier.

“Toji!” They both hear, making the man freeze. She puts her index finger over his lips. If he doesn’t make a sound, they’ll go away. “I need your help!”

“She’ll leave if you don’t say anything.” Mayu whispers, and Toji’s too in the moment so he agrees. It’s his job as your assigned knight, but it’s after hours. 

He thinks he’s safe after a minute, but the man often forgets how invasive you can be.

“Toji–” The door opens, and he looks back at you. Your eyes go wide and you immediately cover your face, protecting yourself from the compromising situation. He stares back at you with guilty eyes, as if he’s tainted your innocence in any manner. 

“What is it, princess?” He asks, getting himself off Mayu and grabbing a shirt. It’s after hours, you’re assigned a different guard until the morning. What can he do that your guard possibly can’t?

“It’s fine, after further thought, I can handle it.” You respond, taking baby steps as you back out. Toji sighs, looking back at Mayu.

“Leave.” He mouths to her, and he watches as the woman gets upset. Toji doesn’t have the energy to deal with her, instead, he walks over to you. His hand goes to your shoulder and he turns you around.

“Are you decent?” You question, and Toji almost smirks. You can really crack him up even when it’s not your intention.

“I’m walking you back to your room, am I not?” Toji answers, and he watches you uncover your face. It’s clear that you’re embarrassed about the situation you found him in. He ends up chuckling before saying, “I guess you can say that I’m one of the peasants you described earlier.”

“What do you– Oh! No. No no. You like that girl and–” Your brain is unable to find the right words. It’s as if the system is overheated after finding your knight in that situation. “You know I just say things to tease you.”

“I don’t really like her.” He confesses, and you raise your brow. You don’t respond to that, you’re not sure how to.

He clears his throat, “What did you need help with?”

“I needed help with something and I didn’t want to ask Hanako.” You answer, and he shakes his head disapprovingly.

“So you chose to bother me instead?” He’s mostly teasing, but you can’t look him in the eye. “You know, that still doesn’t answer my question. What could I do that your night guard can’t?”

“Nothing. It’s trifling.” You reply. You’re nearing the room, and you both notice how your night guard is missing. He’s most definitely looking for you.

“Here you are, princess.” Toji opens the door to your room. He has to make sure that you enter your room safe and sound, and that you don’t try to escape– Oh, what a headache that would be. 

Your gaze falls on his massive arm, one that is usually covered by the long sleeves of his uniform. Right now he wears a simple white undershirt, one that gives you the view of the many scars on his arms. Scars that he’s gotten throughout the years of many battles. You know better than anyone that Toji has been through a lot, otherwise he wouldn’t have the position as your knight. 

You don’t know why you keep staring at it, or why you like it. Your face begins to get warm, and you almost have to pinch yourself to get out of the trance that you suddenly have found yourself in.

“Goodnight, princess.” Toji tells you, knocking you back into reality. You step into the room, muttering a barely audible goodnight. Your hand goes to the door knob, and just as you’re about to shut the door in his face, he asks you, “Are you sure you don’t need any help with anything? What you needed sounded urgent.”

“I’m fine.” You nod as you begin to shut the door in his face. But you stop yourself when there’s a crack in the door. What’s the worst that can happen?

“Is everything–” Toji begins when you open the door wide once again. Nothing can possibly prepare him for the question that leaves your lips. The help that you needed just a few minutes ago– It wasn’t just anything that anyone could fulfill.

There’s a reason you sought him.

“Toji, will you have sex with me?” 

[beef-brisket]

Michael chuckled and sat in a nearby chair. He was obviously too tall for it, and the size difference was almost comical.

Michael: Now now, brother. Where's the fun in that? Besides, I doubt you'd hear me all the way up here.

Adam tensed as Michael's gaze shifted from Lucifer to him.

Michael: Adam. I like the new look. I had a feeling you'd be more bird like, it suits you.

Qdam: I- really? You think so?

Michael: Oh, definitely. And I see I have more nieces and nephews. I would have appreciated a card to inform me of their birth, but I don't expect such things of you anymore, Lucifer. Too used to your own company to remember anyone else.

Lucifer glared: I like to keep these things private, Michael.

Michael: Oh yes. I know. I trust the pregnancy wasn't to rough on you, Adam.

Adam: Uh- this litter was a bit bigger, so that was a struggle. But Lucifer was a big help.

Michael: As he should be. Well, now. Looking at your size, you should more than be able to carry a full litter. I'm assuming you two are far from finished populating the earth.

Lucifer: Brother, please-.

Adam: Far from it!

Michael smiled: Very good. I'm pleased to hear it. Your children are always so darling, aren't they? Now, brother. I've heard a few rumours through the grapevine I'm sure you would like to hear about.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow: Oh? What rumours?

Michael: ...Father is up to something.

Lucifer sighed: When isn't he. Is that really it, Michael?

Michael smirked: Aren't you impatient. And here I thought you'd want to know every detail and whereabouts of the man who wants to turn your children and mate into fertiliser. But no, I guess not.

Lucifer growled and crawled over to Michael, getting into his face. He rose himself to his full height, trying to intimidate his older brother.

Lucifer: Watch what you say, brother. Now, tell me what he's up to.

Michael smiled up at his brother, clearly not intimidated. Adam remembered that the first time he met Michael. As he left, his form changed into something more monstrous. It sent chills down Adam's spine just recalling it.

But he thinks there's more to Michael than he shows. He tries to appear more human, but Adam knows better. He always has an uncomfortable feeling looking at him. He's kind enough, but Adam can't help but feel there's something else just beneath the surface.

Michael: Oh, calm down before you make a fool of yourself. I believe father is planning on putting an end to your union with Adam. I've noticed a few things in the forest. The animals had disappeared a few weeks ago, like they knew something was here. Then, a few days ago, they returned.

Lucifer: How interesting, anything else?

Adam: Lu. Let him speak.

Michael: Thank you, Adam. As I was saying. A few days ago, the animals returned. Mainly deer and boars. Some rabbits. But their different. Their like a cheap mimic, and that mimic doesn't know how these animals moved or walked. I hunted a deer a day or so ago, and it attacked. It even started to change, but I killed it before that happened. It's not safe here, Lucifer. I believe father is making this location as deadly as possible, so when the time comes for him to strike, you and Adam will be outnumbered.

Adam: I'm one of you now- I can protect them, your dad shouldn't hate me now, right?

Michael sighed: I'm sorry, Adam. But father... he knows you were human. He'll see this as a mockery of our species. He's even gathering out siblings, Lucifer. Telling them lies about Adam, deadly lies. Turning them against him... Azael and Uriel are already geared up for a fight. A big one. They wouldn't tell me what was happening. It seems I've been shunned for the most part.

Lucifer: Shit... what do you suggest?

Michael: Well, that's the smartest question you've asked all year! You run, brother. Take your children, and run... but, at this stage, you'll be a danger to them.

Lucifer: I'm not leaving him.

Michael: I know. I wasn't directing that to you.

Lucifer slowly turned to Adam who was staring at Michael.

Adam: ...I'm the danger. I'm putting them in danger.

Michael: ...Unfortunately.

Monster under the bed au where Lucifer is a monster and "terrorizing" Adam?

And by terrorizing, I mean fucking. Grossly. Disgustingly.

Complete monster porn.

Oh no, are my kinks coming out again? Oh well 😉

🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

Don't tease me with a hot au lol

Oh, what if Adam bought a new house and that's when it starts?

[magical-reid]

All That Matters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Prompt: 24: “I don’t care what others say, I want to be with you and that’s all that matters to me.” 

Word Count: 800

Setting: Post-Hydra recovery at the Avengers Compound

Summary: In the quiet of the Avengers Compound, you struggle with feelings of doubt and isolation, haunted by your past as a Hydra agent. But Bucky who understands the weight of being judged for things beyond your control, offers you a rare kind of comfort, proving that, despite the past, you truly belong—and he’s not going anywhere.

The Avengers Compound was quieter at night. Most of the team had retired to their rooms, the buzz of missions and meetings reduced to the occasional hum of distant machinery or the rustle of a breeze through the tall windows. You liked it that way—still, calm, with no one looking at you like you didn’t belong.

You were seated in the kitchen, the sharp metallic scent of dish soap filling the air as you meticulously wiped down the already-clean counters. It wasn’t about cleaning, not really—it was about control. About keeping your hands busy so your mind wouldn’t wander back to those memories you worked so hard to bury.

You heard the sound of boots behind you, heavy and deliberate. You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. You knew the rhythm of his steps by heart.

“Bucky,” you said softly, stilling your hands on the cloth.

He didn’t say anything at first, just moved to lean against the counter beside you, his metal hand tapping idly on the surface. You could feel his eyes on you—blue, sharp, and all too perceptive.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” you asked, risking a glance at him.

“Could say the same for you,” he countered, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. But it faded quickly, replaced by something softer, more cautious. “You okay?”

You hesitated. Bucky was one of the few people who could ask you that question without it sounding shallow. He understood what it was like to carry the weight of your past, to feel the judgment of others every time you walked into a room. You didn’t have to explain it to him.

“Everyone thinks I don’t belong here,” you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “That I’m… dangerous. Damaged.”

Bucky’s brows knitted together, his jaw tightening. He didn’t like hearing you talk about yourself like that, but he also knew you weren’t wrong. The Avengers had been civil to you—for the most part. But you’d caught the side glances, the whispered conversations that stopped abruptly when you entered the room.

You folded the cloth in your hands with precision, lining up the edges perfectly before placing it on the counter. “Maybe they’re right. Maybe I don’t deserve to be here. Or to—” You stopped yourself before the words could slip out, but Bucky’s gaze sharpened.

“Don’t do that,” he said firmly.

“Do what?”

“Doubt yourself. Question if you deserve things like this—like us.” He stepped closer, his warm hand brushing against your wrist. “Because you do. More than anyone else in this damn place.”

You shook your head, swallowing hard. “They’ll never see me as anything other than what I was. A Hydra agent. A liability.”

“I don’t care what others say,” Bucky interrupted, his voice low but steady. He turned you to face him fully, his hands resting gently on your arms. “I want to be with you, and that’s all that matters to me.”

Your breath caught in your throat. The weight of his words, the conviction in his tone—it was overwhelming.

“Bucky, you can’t just—”

“Yes, I can,” he said, cutting you off again. There was a fire in his eyes now, the same stubborn determination that had kept him alive through decades of hell. “I know what it’s like to be judged for something you had no control over. To have people look at you like you’re a monster. And I know it doesn’t matter what they think. What matters is what I see.”

He reached up, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “And I see someone who’s kind, and smart, and stronger than she’ll ever admit. Someone I care about. So stop pushing me away.”

You blinked rapidly, trying to fight back the tears that threatened to spill. “Bucky, I… I don’t want to hurt you. Or anyone else.”

“You won’t,” he said simply. “You’re not who you were back then. And I trust you.”

The words were like a balm to your soul, soothing wounds you hadn’t even realized were still open.

“Okay,” you whispered finally, your voice trembling. “Okay.”

Bucky’s lips curved into a small, relieved smile. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to yours in a gesture that was as intimate as it was grounding.

“Good,” he murmured. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

[whimsicalpolitical]

Pleeaseee please please some Matty or Ross breeding kink fics? Thank you. (You don’t have to if you’re not comfortable with it)

18+ mdni, smut, p in v, dirty talk, breeding link, d word 😁

“he was fucking pathetic thinking he could have you,” matty grits through his teeth while his hips snap violently against yours.

he was furious the second you got back from a birthday party, furious at the guy who wanted to dance with you, touch you, get you out of there all alone.

“did you like that? having him all over you, knowing he could never fuck you like i do.“

you shake your head. then you nod. you don’t know. all you know is that he feels too good inside of you right now and you could never want anyone else.

“hm?” he asks again, gripping your chin to prevent you from looking away, “liked all the attention?”

“fuck- matty,” he fucks you deep and slow. he has a firm grip on your hips, and he’s barely leaving your cunt before he’s slamming back into you, desperate to keep the tip of him as close to your cervix as possible. 

“now it’s all matty again, s’pathetic. answer my question, love.”

your nails scratches down matty’s back as he pounds into you, leaving red marks to blossom over his pale skin. you are sure you’re going to pass out from how many orgasms you already had but still you hold him close to you and welcome each blow to your cunt he gives.

“n-no. just want your attention, promise,” you whimper.

“ah,” he teases, “that so? then what should we do about the other wankers?”

you bite your lip, thinking about if you’re going to say what you want to say.

matty bites at your neck slowly, rubbing your clit with his thumb.

“cum in me,” you moan out, “f-fill me up.”

you feel matty’s hips stop, the once quick motions of him moving his dick in and out suddenly pausing. you open your eyes, feeling your brows furrowing in confusion.

"don’t- you don’t," you begin to stutter.

he moves your hand from his cheek up to his mouth, placing a gentle kiss before interlocking your fingers.

"say it again"

you smile to yourself, chuckling softly before you roll your hips up to his, restarting the motions. you pull matty’s head down, your lips trailing up his neck, peppering kisses on his skin. you move your lips from his neck before whispering in his ear. “want you to cum deep inside"

matty’s hips start to move again, moving in a deep sensual manner. "you want me to fill you up, love? let everyone know you’re mine?”

matty moves his hand to your breast, pulling and pinching at your nipples. you feel yourself clench around him, becoming hotter at the words between the two of you.

“yes- oh fuck, could be a real daddy,” you hear a loud groan, his grip on your hips getting tighter. you can hear the wetness of your cunt, the sound squelching from the quickening pace of matty’s hips.

matty moves back, pulling your legs up to his shoulders, deepening the angle. he moves one of his hands to your stomach, fingers glazing lightly.

"gonna fuck you full of my cum, darling, fuck it deep into you. everyone will know then- that you’re mine, that i’m the one having you like this.”

you can’t think straight, the knot in your stomach forming and your mind full of fuzz. your brain can’t form a coherent sentence, quickly nodding as tears start to prickle in the corners of your eyes.

"can feel you squeezing me so tight, darling.”

matty’s hand falls back to your clit, rubbing in quick circles, keeping his other hand firm on your stomach.

"so good for me, such a good girl for taking me like this. gonna fill you up right here," he places two gentle taps on your stomach, right above your bellybutton, “gonna let me do that, hm?”

"fuck, matty, i'm gonna come" your voice sounds distant, like it isn’t your own, following your statement with a string of please.

"look so gorgeous for me, be a good girl and let me have it, yeah? then you’ll be full of me for days.” matty groans through gritted teeth.

“fuckfuckfuck, matty,” you feel yourself come undone with a loud moan, your thighs shaking and eyes rolling back. matty’s pace quickens, hips snapping against yours at a brutal pace, sweat forming on his brows, face and chest red, before you feel his beat skip.

“that’s it, love,” he moans, his face dropping to your neck, “you want to be full now?”

“yes, please, need you,” you plead.

you clench around him repeatedly, “c’mon, daddy,” you giggle.

“christ,” matty moans, “yeah, i’ll give you that, fill this cunt, give you a baby.”

with one final stutter of his hips, matty lets out a strangled moan, flushing his hips against yours as he milks himself of every last drop, painting your warm, wet walls with hot ropes of his, making sure nothing goes to waste.

“oh, fuckin’ hell.”

he can’t help but but press even further into you, fucking his cum as deep as he could into your cunt to make sure it stays there, collapsing on top of you with himself still buried in your heat, letting your chests heave together in sync as you both catch your breath.

you hum, “so you reckon that worked?”

matty catches your grin and shakes his head, “fuck me,” he mumbles, “if not we should just try again.”

[honeypiehotchner]

The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part six

About the ending of this one: don't hate me! Hate Hotch :)

Warnings: angst! the usual! a meeting with Strauss, Rossi knowing Hotch too well and it annoying the fuck out of Hotch (lovingly)

Everyone knows the case isn’t over, but it might as well be. With nothing else to uncover and Lila safely returned home, the BAU team is called back to Quantico.

Hotch makes sure that the Monroes have some security round the clock in their neighborhood, especially on their street. He doesn’t think anything will happen, but then again, no one can ever be certain. 

The problem is that they can only afford the security for so long. One week, at the most.

You ignore Hotch the entire way home on the jet. In your defense, you ignore everyone. You put your headphones in and curl up in one of the chairs toward the back, perfectly secluded from everyone else.

Hotch watches you, trying not to look as worried as he feels, and hating that he feels such deep worry for you. Sure, your words stung earlier, that he’s the last person you’d want to work for, but they weren’t entirely untrue. You are the last person he expected or wanted to walk through those glass doors. 

He hasn’t had the chance to discuss your placement with Strauss, but he will. Either it was pure coincidence that she placed you here, or she thinks she’s being funny. If it’s the latter, he hopes she can see how hard he isn’t laughing.

Rossi lightly kicks Hotch’s leg under the table. He raises his eyebrows when Hotch drags his eyes over to him.

“What?” Hotch says, settling down further into his seat, glancing at the file he’s supposed to be going over. “Got a cramp?”

Rossi scoffs. “Do you?”

Hotch hums. “When do you think they’ll send us the sketch?” He’s trying hard to change this subject to anywhere but where Rossi wants to take it.

Rossi, of course, ignores Hotch’s question. “I’m guessing she didn’t appreciate you prying into her past.”

Hotch focuses very hard on one word in the file, wondering if he might make it catch fire. “No, she didn’t.”

“Well,” Rossi sighs, looking out the window. “Serves you right.”

Hotch’s eyes snap up, glaring tiredly at his friend.

“What?” Rossi asks innocently. “It’s too soon. You should’ve known better.”

“You know just as well as anyone that in order for this team to work well together we need to have an established level of trust—”

“Save the pep talk,” Rossi waves him off. “I think you just can’t stand being left out of the loop. There’s a missing piece here and you can’t take it.”

Hotch doesn’t know if Rossi is still talking about you or not. “Richard said—”

“I heard what he said,” Rossi interrupts again and Hotch really wishes he’d stop doing that. “And if it was anything that concerns us, don’t you think it would’ve come up in her background check? That you, as Unit Chief, have to go over.”

Hotch can’t say that he disagrees there. He does go over the background checks, just a glance, really. Maybe his eyes lingered on yours a little longer, so what? Maybe he tried to focus on smaller details to puzzle you out, so what? That’s not a crime.

What is criminal is hiding things from the team, especially the Unit Chief. He hates to pull rank, he really does, but when one of the FBI’s Most Wanted sits in an interrogation room and says he recognizes your newest agent, isn’t that cause for concern? Especially when said agent refuses to elaborate?

Why would Richard Monroe of all people recognize you? Or a younger version of you, so he says, because you’re older now than he remembers. Did he see a picture of you? How and where and why and from who? 

Rossi is right. There’s a missing piece. And Hotch can’t stand it.

+++

Hotch gives you the following day off. You know damn well that isn’t standard, and that everyone else is still going into the office, but you don’t argue with him. He’s as surprised as you are about the fact.

Instead, you sleep in, you have a slow morning, you make brunch, and you do everything in your power to not think about your father.

It’s easier said than done most days. It’s hard not to think about him when there’s so much you don’t know — so much you’ll never know.

Because he’s dead. You know that for a fact. Got a phone call from the prison ward and everything.

Still, your mind wanders. You hold your coffee close, the mug practically burning your palms, but you’re too in your head to feel it.

Lila…everything about it was so similar to your situation. Kind of. Given that you still don’t know who kidnapped her, and you might never find out, it could be a freak coincidence. 

You roll your eyes at yourself. Coincidence. Yeah, right. You stopped entertaining the childish idea of those long ago. Everything happens for a reason, which is why you have such a gut feeling about Lila. You just need to get to the bottom of it.

But you have no clue how.

+++

When you return to the BAU the following day, well rested and somewhat less anxious, you head straight for Hotch’s office.

Not because you want to. God, no. Hotch summoned you via text while you were still on the freeway.

You make him wait, though. You need coffee first.

After a pit stop at the staff coffee pot, and then at Emily's desk to chat, you waltz into Hotch’s office without knocking — his blinds are open and you can clearly see he isn’t busy — earning you an exasperated look from your new boss. 

“Don’t give me that look,” you snap without thinking. “You’re the one who called me for a meeting when I wasn’t even halfway here yet. So what? What do you want?”

Hotch really wonders why he tries to be patient with you. “Sit down.”

“Gladly,” you smile, knowing it has to look as fake as it feels. You lower yourself into one of his stiff chairs across from his desk.

Hotch takes a moment, clearly pulling himself together, before he asks, “How are you?”

Your coffee freezes midway to your mouth. You drop the mug back down, resting it on your thigh, letting it burn you there. “Fine,” you give a little shrug. “Thanks for the day off, boss.”

“I thought you might need it,” he replies, like he’s caught you in something.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“I think you’re being an asshole on purpose,” you conclude. “I think I make you nervous, and you’re not used to that, so you take it out on me by being an ass.”

“Projecting, are we?”

“Proving my point, are we?” you grumble, ignoring how right he might be. You take a scorching sip of your coffee. “What did you actually want?”

Hotch stares at you for a moment, studying your face. You stare right back at him, unperturbed.

He’s going to learn that two can play at this game whether he likes it or not.

He’s the first to look away, down at the files on his desk. “The sketch artist spoke with Lila.”

“And?”

“She refused.”

You sit up straighter, nearly spilling your coffee. “What?”

Hotch’s eyes lift to yours. “She refused.”

You sit back again, propping your elbow on the arm of the chair to rub your forehead. “Okay. So what does this mean?”

Hotch threads his fingers together on his desk. “Her mom is going to talk to her, see if she can convince her to talk to the artist again.”

You nod slowly, looking out the window. “Okay. That’s good.” You’re not sure if she will. Or if it’ll get her in any trouble. She’s just a kid.

Hotch stays silent. Your coffee burns your thigh just enough finally that you move to rest it on the other arm of the chair.

You pause, looking over at him without moving your head. Your eyes narrow. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I thought you might like to know.”

You turn your head, smirking. “Missed me?”

He frowns.

You lift your coffee to your lips, waiting for Hotch to say something else, like you know he will.

He does. “I thought you might be able to shine some light on why she refused.”

You glare at him, but you finish your sip of coffee. “And no one else on the team was capable of shedding light?”

He stares you down. You return the favor.

You’re the first to cave this time. “What do you want from me, Hotch?”

“The truth would be a great start.”

All you can do is laugh, so you do, hanging your head. “Great meeting.” You stand and head for the door, raising your mug. “I’ll be at my desk if you need me.”

You hear Hotch push his chair back as he raises to his feet. “We’re not done.”

You pause, but you stay at the door. “You just don’t know how to leave well enough alone, huh?”

“I can write you up for insubordination.”

“Go ahead,” you shrug. “I could use another day off.”

On that note, and before he can hold you captive any longer, you yank his office door open and escape to your desk.

Hotch watches you through his open blinds. The way you settle into your desk chair, the way your hand shakes as you lift your mug to your lips. 

It’s not that he can’t understand why you won’t confide in him -- or, well, it’s less about confiding and more about just telling him the truth. He doesn’t need to be your confidant, or anything remotely friendly. God knows you wouldn’t want that. 

But this is serious. A serial killer recognizes his agent, shakes them up so bad they have what he can only assume was a panic attack in the parking lot, and he’s supposed to, what? Forget he saw anything? 

Forget like his life didn’t flash before his eyes when he saw you crouched down, fighting to take in a single breath of air? Forget like he didn’t pace his entire apartment last night, recalling everything he knows about you to try to ascertain why an FBI’s Most Wanted would recognize you as a child? Forget like he didn’t nearly make himself sick with the implications of that?

It’s uncharted territory for him. Members of his team have hidden things from him before, but they’ve let the truth out. They’ve let him help.

You don’t seem keen to do either of those. Again, it’s not like he doesn’t understand. The two of you aren’t exactly each other’s favorite person -- and won’t ever be. But the nature of the work you do…this isn’t something Hotch can just let go.

+++

The next week at the BAU passes similarly and without much fanfare. No new cases come in -- surprisingly -- but a few seminars come up, some mountains of paperwork, and a meeting with Strauss.

The latter comes as a shock. You think for sure that it is Hotch’s doing, and you’re entirely prepared for a fight. You’re either being fired, reprimanded for your behavior, or who knows what else.

What you don’t expect is for it to be lunch. Plain and simple.

“Thank you for joining me,” Strauss says, in an uncharacteristically good mood, guiding you over to her comfortable chairs. “Sorry for the formality. It’s the easiest way to schedule these things. Please, sit.”

You sit across from her, waving off the apology. “Not a problem. I was a little worried, so I’m glad it’s only lunch.”

“Why?” she asks. “Is everything alright in the BAU?”

“Oh, yes,” you laugh it off. Hotch just hates me, but not to worry, the feeling is mutual. “Just new job jitters, I suppose.”

“Ah, still adjusting?”

“You could say that,” you nod with another sheepish laugh.

“Well, you shouldn’t worry,” she says. “I hear your performance is exceptional, and you fit right in.”

You raise an eyebrow. Hotch told her that? “Oh,” you try not to show your shock. “Thank you, I’m…I’m glad to hear that.”

She smiles. “Aaron can be a little rough around the edges, but you’re doing fine. Don’t worry. Ah, there’s lunch.”

Sandwiches are brought in, leaving you no time to really process what she has just confirmed. 

And he is never going to live it down.

The rest of your lunch meeting passes by easily. To your surprise, Strauss steers the conversation away from the BAU and toward how you’re settling in here in general. 

“It was a big move, I heard,” she says. “I hope the area is treating you well?”

“It���s great,” you nod. “I do love it here.”

Of course, work topics come up, such as professionalism among the team and how those lines blur around some. She doesn’t linger here, though, so you think nothing of it. 

“A new case will likely come tomorrow,” she says. “You’ll hardly ever be without one this long. Consider yourself lucky.”

You laugh at that, mostly to hide your scoff. You wouldn’t consider yourself lucky to be without a case because it only means Hotch’s focus is on you instead of catching a killer -- which is a much better use of his time. Safer for him, too. Because with every passing day you come closer to spilling hot coffee down his suit.

Kidding. Kind of.

“Mm! I do have one thing to ask you,” Strauss says suddenly.

You swallow your nerves and look at her expectantly.

“Richard Monroe,” she starts, and you feel your blood run cold. “He’s still cooperating in their investigation, however,” she pauses, lacing her fingers together. “He’s asked to speak with you.”

You blink. “With me?”

She nods. “You clearly made some impression on him. He’s apparently been asking for you for a few days, though they only just notified me this morning.” She pauses to sigh. “Do you have any idea what he might be after?”

You shake your head, dusting crumbs off your leg. “No idea.”

“Alright,” she accepts your answer far too easily. “Well, if there’s time, and if he keeps asking, I might ask you to go speak to him. Just to…keep the peace, I suppose. We can call it research for the BAU.” She waves her hand. “But it’s not at the top of my list.”

“Of course,” you nod slowly. “Just let me know.”

She smiles. “I’ve taken up enough of your lunch time, so I’ll let you get back to work.” She stands and you do as well, a rare moment where you’re itching to get back to the bullpen. “You’re going to do just fine here. You’re already exceeding expectations, so well done. Keep it up.”

“Thank you,” you return the smile, your chest expanding from the praise. It’s nice knowing your boss’s boss thinks you’re doing well, no matter how Hotch acts when you’re in the same room. Checkmate.

+++

Hotch scowls at the paperwork before him as he listens to your laughter filter up to his office. You returned from your meeting with Strauss in a frustratingly good mood and have been joking around with Morgan for half an hour.

Fed up, Hotch shoves his chair back to shut his door. Maybe he slams it. It doesn’t matter.

He hears the conversation come to a halt. Good. Maybe now they’ll get some work done for once.

He signs off on what he needs to, closing the folder and moving on to the next. And the next. And the next.

Before he knows it, he’s the second to last in the office again. Rossi knocks once on Hotch’s office door before he opens it, one hand holding his coat over his shoulder.

“Working late?” Rossi asks, striding in and settling down across from Hotch.

“Yes,” Hotch says, not looking up from the paperwork. He still has a mountain to get through, and maybe it could wait until tomorrow, but he needs to focus. On something that isn’t you.

“Want to get a drink?”

“No.”

“Alright. Any particular reason you’re so grouchy today?”

Hotch sighs, looking up at his friend and hoping his eyes convey the best I’m not in the mood look that he can. 

He must succeed, because Rossi presses even more. “Doesn’t have anything to do with, say, a certain new agent who seemed to be in a great mood today for the first time in a week?” He pauses, musing. “Or maybe it’s the fact that said new agent didn’t say one word to you today?”

Hotch’s jaw tenses. It’s true. Neither of you spoke to the other today. Plenty of glares were shared, though, which is the same as words for you two.

Rossi leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Aaron. She’ll come to you if she needs help. If she wants help.”

No, she won’t, Aaron wants to say, but he can’t. Because what’s his reasoning? Something he doesn’t want to admit.

The facts are that Rossi doesn’t know you. Rossi wasn’t there when Hotch first met you on that case all those years ago. Rossi wasn’t there to watch you try to do everything yourself and nearly fistfight Hotch every time he tried to take one thing off your plate. Rossi wasn’t there to watch you nearly get yourself killed because you refused to ask for help. Rossi wasn’t there to see the panic that had crossed Hotch’s face when he saw your reckless behavior. 

Rossi doesn’t know you. Not the way Hotch does.

Which is why after Rossi leaves, Hotch gathers his things, and stops to see Penelope on his way out of the office.

[vunblr]

I own a cozy flower shop that Bucky visits frequently to buy bouquets for his many failed attempts at dating, and always chats with me about his progress -or lack thereof-. He also bought a succulent and asked how to care for it. Over time, it’s become his pride and joy, and he often brags about how well it’s thriving under his care and showing me pictures of its steady growth or if he thinks someting is wrong with it.

Every Wednesday, like clockwork, another customer comes in, a man who always flirts with me, despite my deflections. His advances make me uncomfortable, but he refuses to take the hint, dismissing my rejection as shyness or nerves, since he is a renowned politician.

Finally fed up, I decide to take a bold step. I ask Bucky if he could pretend to be my boyfriend for just one Wednesday, hoping that seeing me with someone else will finally get the message across.

He scratches the back of his neck, glancing at me with an expression I cannot entirely read. “Sure doll. What time do you need me here?” His tone is casual, but his body language is tense.

--

Wednesday comes, and Bucky is already behind the counter with me, leaning slightly against it as though he belongs there. He’s calm, almost too calm, but the occasional flick of his eyes toward the door tells me he’s on mission mode.

When the familiar chime of the bell rings and the persistent customer steps in, I shift closer to Bucky and murmur, “That’s him.”

Without missing a beat, he straightens and slides his hand to the small of my back, resting it there casually, but the way his thumb brushes against my side, feels anything but casual.

The man hesitates as his eyes land on us, and his smile falters for a fraction of a second when he notices the way Bucky stands close to me. Bucky doesn’t even look at him, his focus is entirely on me as he leans down slightly and murmurs, “You good, doll?” The question is soft or even innocent, but the tone leaves no room for misinterpretation, it’s a warning for anyone who dares to make me uncomfortable.

Undeterred, the man strides up to the counter and places a small velvet box on the counter with deliberate care. “I brought you a little something,” he brags, ignoring Bucky entirely as his eyes fix on mine.

Bucky’s fingers twitch at my waist. He finally turns his head toward the man with an unreadable expression. “Funny,” he comments. “I didn’t think she needed anything she didn’t already have."

“Oh, I don’t think she already has this,” the man retorts, casting a quick, dismissive glance at him. “Doubt you could afford it, pal.”

Bucky’s hand slightly tightens at my waist, as the faintest hint of a scoff escape his lips. He doesn’t rise to the bait, but his tongue presses against his cheek, the only sign that the man’s words have gotten under his skin.

He leans forward on the counter, closing the space between himself and the man, with a darkened gaze.

“She doesn’t need whatever you’ve got in that box,” he states without raising his tone, but his voice carries a certain edge on it. “And she sure as hell doesn’t need you hanging around. So if I were you, pal, I’d walk out now before I make you.”

The man’s confident grin doesn’t waver as he steps closer, clearly unfazed by Bucky’s protective stance. “Oh?” he taps his chin, his tone dripping with disdain. “And how exactly would you do that?” He mocks, certain his position gives him the upper hand.

Bucky's lips curves into a smile, but it don’t reach his eyes. He weaves his metal hand casually through his hair in an effortless but ominous movement, and narrows his gaze.

“Maybe I’ll cut your excuse of a dick off,” he comments in a low, almost bored tone. “Then I’ll stick it in that little box you brought her, so you can look at it every time you think you’re entitled to her attention.”

I feel a strange thrill hearing the threat, an unfamiliar but not unwelcomed warmth at his protectiveness, and I move slightly closer to him, letting his hand stay firm on my waist.

I glance at the man, watching his confident smirk falter. I don’t need to add anything. My silence, paired with Bucky's threat, is more than enough.

Bucky Barnes + fake dating + jealous and protective Bucky = What is the event and who is he jealous of/wanting to protect you from?

[furiousgoldfish]

Someone asked me privately 'How to break out of brainwashing', and I thought the response might be useful to anyone else abused and going trough this. It goes into personal experience and osdd, as well as having mentions of suicidal thoughts, so be ready for that if you're reading on.

"I'm unsure that I can tell you exactly how to break brainwashing, because I can only ever partially do it, and only because I also have a dissociative disorder, I think without this disorder I wouldn't be able to do it alone, even partially. I can explain what I did though, and how I think a person might be able to do it with some outside help if it's available.

So for example, when I was small I've been brainwashed to believe I was a demon, and would often be punished for that crime, and I was too little to have any way to suspect that my caretakers would have any reason of lying to me, and a lot of the stuff that was done to brainwash this message into me was done under circumstances of pain. That's how brainwashing usually goes, it's a repeated message that is given to you when you're specifically vulnerable, have no defenses or arguments against it, and often under circumstances of either physical or psychological pain (if you're badly berated, humiliated, treated with contempt, that also causes intense pain that would seal the brainwashing).

So because I have a dissociative disorder (I have osdd), I split into two parts, one who had all the memories, and beliefs from the brainwashing, and was convinced they were a demon, and a second part who had only minimal memories, was completely detached from all of the pain of the situation, but still also believed to not be human because there were no messages received that would lead to any other conclusion. So basically similar, only one part had complete brainwashing, and the other had some, but was detached from the pain situation, because that's how osdd works, it enables part of you to live as if you weren't traumatized. Because this second part did not have the memories of pain, they were able to break trough brainwashing just using logic. It was still painful, because you have to acknowledge awful things like, your caretakers lying to you, for an evil purpose, having to acknowledge that you weren't safe, that you've been exposed to some extreme cruelty, sometimes having to cut your bonds with people you love because you see them for who they are. Your worldview shatters and that can take months or years to make peace with.

But the thought process was just questioning and breaking trough the logic of the situation. I questioned why I feel constantly guilty and ashamed for even existing, and what caused it, and the reason for that was intense shaming, guilt tripping, accusations, character assassination, punishments. I was receiving messages that I deserved only pain and shouldn't exist. So I questioned why was that, and what did I do to deserve that, and it turned out basically nothing severe; I was acting as a normal kid and would get shamed for stuff like, needing to eat, needing resources or money, saying no, standing up for myself, accidentally annoying someone, being perceived as a nuisance when I was just being a kid. So then why the shaming and the violence and being called a demon and punished for it? Because people who raised me were insane and needed some excuses for torturing a normal child who just happened to live there. Studying the situation further revealed that their acts of punishments coincided with when they were in a bad mood or just annoyed at something else and needed to lash out, rather than anything I did or caused.

Now if I was still connected to the emotions and pain inflicted on me during this brainwashing, I would not be able to break trough it using logic and arguments because the pain would completely overcome my logical side of the brain and I wouldn't be able to argue it out with myself because the pain of just thinking about this would make me suicidal. That's why brainwashing is so difficult to break trough under non-dissociative circumstances, it's just too dangerous to be exposed to that level of pain, and non endurable. It's also why brainwashing is usually done under circumstances of severe pain, so that the person trying to break trough it would be stopped by pain from having access to any kind of logic and they would submit to any message being told to them, just to avoid further pain.

This is also why I haven't been able to un-brainwash the part that is still connected to that pain, they cannot under any circumstances accept that they were a kid who was tortured for no good reason because that's too devastating and there's a barrier in their mind stopping the from even thinking in that direction. They won't indulge with logical arguments.

I do think a person who doesn't have a dissociative disorder could break trough brainwashing with some outside help. Brainwashing relies on the person always receiving the same messages about themselves, and on being resistant to any opposite messages; they make you believe that anyone telling you otherwise is trying to hurt you, lie to you, trick you, etc, it makes any opposite messages difficult to accept or process.

But if there was an environment where the person was consistently receiving un-brainwashing messages that counteract what the brainwashing was, eventually their brain would adapt to the new message, even though it would still be very painful, and there would be a lot of inner conflict, going from one view to the other, being unable to see which messages are true, sometimes succumbing to the pain of trying to fight it because the pain is overwhelming. But for example, if someone is brainwashed to not believe themselves as human, but they're in an environment where it's consistently pointed out how they have a lot of things in common with humans, if their similarities are amplified, they're treated as human, and any abuse or ham of them are being depicted as wrong and evil, it would eventually cause the person to doubt the brainwashing. Not right away though, at first you'd just think 'all of these people are fooled and they're just not seeing the reality of what I am' (that was me for years). But after years of consistency their brain would have to consider that maybe they are human if there's overwhelming proof of it and that maybe something was off with the original messaging. They would still have to go back in memories to challenge it and they would need support in fighting those messages.

Sadly the current environment of capitalism doesn't offer many options of breaking such brainwashing because people often treat each other transactionally and as resources and indulge in some level of manipulation and devaluing others to get their way, so abusive messages might just get amplified instead. Which is awful for people who were brainwashed and can't fight that kind of subjugation due to painful triggers that stop resistance.

I'm also not completely out of brainwashing myself, it's still very difficult to conceptualize that I didn't deserve everything that happened to me, and that I was just a kid. When I think about it I have to distance from myself and re-affirm to myself that it was 'a child', I can't think about it as 'me', because I still hold some connotations of having deserved this, or it being correct that it happened to me instead of anyone else. It helped me to find out that similar things happened to other children because it's very easy to see that no other child deserves this, other people are truly human and never deserve anything like this, and I could start comparing myself to them to some extent and grasp the idea that I also don't deserve this, since nobody does. But I still find myself somewhat tainted by it and different on some fundamental level, in which all of this had to happen, even though I wish it didn't. I guess it's complicated! I don't think I am able to completely break out without outside help, but since I don't have any, this is how far I am able to go."

[respectthepetty]

Hi, I read your post about Joong/Est & Dunk beef and I wanted to give you more information as I felt like you were missing some-- and bc I got to know them just 2 months and followed them on twitter and the things have been really insane? wild? and I just need to share.

So after Joong posted the tweet about him & Dunk not being on good terms right now, New(!) posted a reply to it "Is this okay?" (I assume he means is it okay to post such a thing?"). And after that Joong's tweet, I saw many fans who were unaware things have been weird btn JD finding out the two weren't getting along well. I'm not against actors sharing their feelings, but it really felt like a bad PR to me that hurts their branding. I was honestly wondering why GMMTV does not give their artists PR training when Joong suddenly posted a selfie of him & Dunk smiling with moustache filter and Dunk also posted a pic with him & Joong & P'tha who is CEO of GMMTV. AND Joong also deleted his tweet about the beef.

Now my unconfirmed theory is that after Joong posted that tweet, things got a bit out of hand and reached the ears of P'Tha and he made them sort of make up or at least ordered them to act more like usual, and for Joong to delete the tweet. In the event they had the next day, they were doing some fanservice too. It was very jarring to see the whole thing unfold tbh, especially Joong's emotional subtweets and retweets of shady quotes that lasted for weeks made me a little worried if he is mentally okay. I'm not sure JD are even on good terms right now (I don't think they are) - I don't know about Joong but Dunk seems to be trying to reach out like wishing him safe flight... but I sure do hope they can keep their working friendship or recover from whatever they are going through right now bc it would be really sad to see it end.

For Est/Joong, there seems to no visible movement for that side as far as I know except for both of their fans fighting each other like twice a week. They got into fight again today bc Joong doesn't even acknowledge or promote ThamePo even though he guest starred in it. The fan communities have been so toxic and weird and I just honestly feel so bad for the actors.

Anon, I turned off reblogs to this post except for the people mentioned within it because I just learned I could (look at this old dog learning new tricks!) and I hope this encourages you to come back to my inbox, anonymously, and offer more discussion without it getting muddled with others' thoughts.

Because I have a question.

But first I want to solidify one key point - I am invested in whatever happened between Joong and Est and, by extension, Joong and everyone else including Dunk. I just want to make that clear, so you don't think I'm trying to claim some level of emotional superiority with my following question because I'm not. I'm interested in everything you wrote because I'm nosy for no good reason, so I want to know what happened and all the details simply because I want to, and I want to make that clear before I continue.

Now, my question:

Why do you perceive Joong's behavior for the past few months as mentally unstable?

It was very jarring to see the whole thing unfold tbh, especially Joong's emotional subtweets and retweets of shady quotes that lasted for weeks made me a little worried if he is mentally okay.

You are not the first to write this. I have seen this sentiment in various spaces raised here with @waitmyturtles and @simysaru43, and on Reddit, so based on your comment, why do you think his behavior equates to him not being mentally okay? Regardless if he is or isn't, I want to know why YOU think that? And please know that I am genuinely asking anyone who has expressed this thought because I truly want to know others' perspective since I think his behavior is a suitable response to what is happening, whatever it might be (which, once again, I want to know what *that* is because I am soooo very nosy).

Joong is no longer friends (friendly?) with Est, yet they work at the same company; therefore, they must be around each other in a professional capacity. He doesn't seem to be friends (friendly?) with Daou anymore either. Yet Dunk, his work partner, hung out with them outside of work, so why can't he be bothered by that? People have stated it seems immature that he would dictate someone else's behavior, but I think we are underestimating the demands of their jobs and the unstated obligations they must abide by within their working relationships. Joong is an actor in a genre that is known for its (toxic) fans, so I am also surprised that GMMTV doesn't have a stronger grasp on any of its actors' social media presences, but Joong is also human, so having emotions, even public ones, is part of that.

So is the worrisome part of his posts that they focus on his emotions? Does it worry you that his posts are rooted in him publicly revealing his feelings? I'm not in the practice of defending men or their behavior, but I don't like the implication that a man feeling is cause for concern. That's why I'm asking why you are worried about him because I don't want to assume this is where you are coming from. I'm not asking for you to defend yourself or your comments because this is not a battle. I'm kindly asking for your perspective because my background (Mexican, Black, American) tells me this is messy behavior from a man, but my ideologies (feminist, anarchist, lover) tell me to be proud that he is allowing himself to display his feelings on a public forum.

But I might be missing something, culturally, generationally, or a third item I haven't thought about. Which is why I'm asking why his behavior is unsettling to you? I truly hope you respond, and if you want, I won't share your response.

Either way, let's discuss this further.

[cxvii666]

"GIRLS"

college au! denki kaminari x reader

cw: recreational drug use, bad language, sexual tension, wet and messy public handjobs, men whimpering

wc: 2.5k

loosely inspired by the dare's album "what's wrong with new york?"

girls that's mean just for fun, i like girls who make love, but i like girls that like to fuck

THAT'S WHAT'S UP

"she doesn't like you, y'know."

denki gasped semi-sarcastically, like its obvious that you don't like him and anyone with eyes can see that but it still shocking to hear out of his best friend's mouth.

jirou turns to him with barely concealed mirth in her eyes and she looks up from her phone where she'd been texting momo, asking for her whereabouts.

they were at a party, a sleazy rich kid house party, one of momo's friend's sisters' or something like that. the kind that involved lots of expensive alcohol, shitty bass music, and sweaty hot rich kids that did too much coke and no survival instincts or a general sense of humiliation. one guy had already thrown up twice, two girls had passed out, someone's boyfriend had punched someone else and denki was absolutely fucking loving it.

he and jirou had smoked some good shit with hanta after pregaming and had enter the party at its pinnacle, completely crossfaded. the good kind that makes you feel like hot shit, like you're the baddest on the planet, and that you could fuck anyone you wanted if you tried hard enough.

that was about two, maybe three, hours ago.

he hits the vape he stole from jirou and scrunches his face at her.

"where even is momo?"

he's chosen to dodge the topic. the topic of you.

he only knows you as one of momo's ex talking stages. you run in the same social circles mostly and somehow, you're still amicable, friendly infact, its some weird sapphic thing that denki doesn't get. how you're friends with jirou, denki really doesn't get. like how can jirou be friends with her girlfriend's ex-situation?

well that's what he thought.

until he met you.

and wow.

you're across the kitchen from him now, chatting it up with some guy you just met, and he's laughing at something you said because you have this effortless wit and charm about you that everyone in your vicinity can sense. it rolls off you in waves, your aura is so attraction, so is your hair, and your eyes, and your smile, and the dress you're wearing-

and now you're looking at him, or maybe at jirou, yeah never mind, you're looking at jirou, and before he knows it his best friend is whacking the back of his neck.

"you're staring," she teases in a singsong voice, fucking annoying habit that she stole from him and just for that he snatches her drink from her and downs it in one gulp. "hey, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

denki fake gags slightly before smiling all teeth "you never answered my question, when's your girlfriend getting here?" jirou rolls her eyes at his obvious diversion from the topic "i want her to make me that weird drink she makes with the tequila.... and i'm pretty sure i left my lighter in her car."

"momo won't care y'know." she looks at him with full seriousness and nods in your direction. "you should be more worried about how you're gonna talk to her."

denki says nothing in reply, only sighs and send jirou an affirmative hum so that she knows he's not being pissy and ignoring her.

his eyes cut to you again, the guy you were talking to has gone back to the friends he came with and you're pouring yourself a drink.

and jirou was right, by the way. at first you didn't like him, he laughs too loud at his own jokes, bums cigs off of everyone and everytime you've seen him in passing, at parties like this or nights at the club when jirou's band plays, he's always chatting someone up.

girls of all kinds, tall girls, small girls, girls that do drugs, girls with dicks, blondes, brunettes, gingers, white girls, black girls, brown girls.

you wondered about him. there's gotta be something that he's doing right, because from what you've heard from momo his cool guy persona is simply that, a persona, and he's actually a massive loser who spends most of his time playing pokemon go or holed up in his room watching anime. so how he can pull so many baddies, most of whom speak of him fondly, is a mystery to you.

but damn, he is cuteeee.

like cracked, horny, stoner, twink that would probably beg for it cute.

and you're obsessed.

that's the real reason why you've been throwing shade at him all night, making sly biting comments, getting into dumb senseless arguments, you're playing with him, working him up slowly, and he's enjoying it.

but contrary to popular belief, denki is not the sleazebag everyone thinks he is. sure he's had a few flings with a few friends, drunken nights never spoken of again, and there was that one time where a girl he slept with lied to him about having a boyfriend. but like, aside from that, he's not like horrible.

and momo is his friend, and idk, isn't flirting with her ex kinda weird, and won't you think its weird that he's flirting with you, and omg, what if you think its weird??, and you actually don't want anything to do with him, and this highly charged game made of mean banter and heated stares, is actually just a game and he's been reading all the signals wrong, and you actually don't want him, and he's gonna have to jerk off so hard tomorrow morning to forget about you because the look you gave him after you called him a senseless idiot for spilling vodka on the counter early was sooo hot and he-

"you're spiralling."

jirou rolls her shoulder and starts riffling through her jacket pockets, probably looking for the vape denki has concealed in his right hand. she pauses and looks at the blonde before sighing. "momo's here. she's got your light." she gets up off the counter and pauses. "and maybe drink something before you smoke, you look like you're about to vom all over the floor or somethin'."

"you dirty bitch, i am not nervous, i swear you're so-" jirou leaves him in the kitchen with a resounding cackle and goes out into the main house to find her girlfriend.

the sound of jirous laughter calls your attention over to denki, who's attention you already had, he'd been counting the piercings on your right ear, and a smirk creeps onto your face, as you pick up your cup and make your way over to him.

"do you have a staring problem?" straight to the point, your voice so close to his ear it makes him jump. "huh, oh, what?" he splutters "staring? me?? why would i be staring at you, of all people?"

the red on his cheeks makes you snort and you regard his fake non-chalant lean against the kitchen counter.

"well that's what i'm trying to work out," you say as you inch closer practically caging him in, still keeping direct eye contact.

his breath hitches slightly as his eyes lock onto your own, determined to win whatever game it is your playing, despite the twitch in his jeans.

you're so close you practically taste his breath, he smells like bud, expensive foreign perfume and bubblegum, your hands splayed either side of his hips creep closer to him.

denki can hear the gulp he takes when your hands finally make contact with his body, your thumbs just slightly grazing his outer thighs, he thinks he might actually have a fucking heart attack or something. he keeps his eyes on yours, but trying to centre himself in your gaze seems to have been the wrong decision to make because the way you tilt your head and smile so innocently, like you don't know what you're doing, is sending him to space. and it's your smile that makes him blink and drop his eyes entirely to the curve of your lips, just for a second.

you notice immediately and let out an obnoxious 'ha!' before reaching up and plucking the joint that he had tucked behind his ear, and yeah it was part of the fit, the pink rolling paper matched his shoes, before taking a step back from the blonde.

he responds to your laugh with a scoff and a roll of his eyes which makes your smile grow even wider. you hide this as best you can by taking a sip of your drink effectively finishing it. he looks at you, amber eyes regarding you curiously, like he's awaiting instruction.

"you wanna go out back?" you smile cheekily brandishing your prize, "go smoke this baby before jirou gets back?"

he sniffs and stands at his full height, stuffing his hands in his back pockets before nodding to the exit. and you lead the way to the garden with a giggle.

"it's not my fault. you're the poser walking around with a joint and no lighter." as you finally stamp out then end of the joint. you'd just had to beg some snotty marlboro gold smoking guy for the use of his lighter. "honestly it was more of an accessory than a zoot, you didn't even roll it well."

"you're so mean to me," denki flushes, honest to god his voice sounding more like a whimper then anything else.

you scoff at him. you're not mean, this guys just an idiot, generally easy to make fun of, and has the most adorable reactions whenever you take the piss out of him. you can't help yourself. he's so easy practically throwing himself at you, demanding all of your attention all night and then whining like a kicked puppy and retreating back to hide behind jirou when you don't give him the response he's looking for.

"oh, i'm sorry," you ask soflty and the change in attitude gives him whiplash. "are you alright, denki?" he's growing crossed eyed as he watches your lips getting closer to his.

his knees buckle "yeah, just uh, my iron deficiency."

you pull away to raise your eyebrow about to make a sarcastic remark when he surges forward and captures your lips in his. your hands travel up the back of his neck, and the way you thread your fingers through his hair makes him groan into your mouth. you push against him effectively pining him against the cold stone wall, and he just takes it, lets you control the momentum of the kiss, like he's in the middle of a storm just being thrown around and carried by the waves, and he's fucking loving every second of it.

you swear once you break for air, your lips plump, and wet, and juicy, and soft, and he's already diving back in, he needs more of you. more of your taste, fuck, you taste so good, your lips are so soft and syrupy against his, he feels like he's melting into to your hands.

"careful," you murmur directly into his ear and he keens as you grip his hair tight and tilt his head back to give provide acces to his bare neck.

"please, please, please, please, fuck."

you tug harshly on his blonde locs, his eyes fluttering open at the feeling as you hold his gaze. "what do you want denki? use your words."

he can't think of how to reply, not with your right hand itching at his scalp and your left hand drawing circles on the skin above his waistband. "oh god, i don't- i don't even know- i- fuck."

your left hand has dropped, finger only slightly grazing the front of his jeans but it's enough for him to whine so prettily in your ear and cant his hips upwards into your palm.

"fuck, please-"

you cut him off by mashing your lips into his, he accepts gratefully pouring every inch of his desire into your mouth.

"you're so desperate."

he's nodding, he wants you so bad, your hand feels so good even through the layers of fabric covering his most sensitive parts, but its like his skin is on fire, and the only thing that can put it out is your touch. his hands run along your torso, his finger only just brushing over your nipples, enough to make you gasp into him, as he wraps his arms around your body to deepen the kiss.

as good as this feels, the sounds he's making, the whimpers leaving his lips as he grinds into your hand, are increasing in volume and your entirely conscious of the fact that you are outside, out the open, for anyone to hear or see.

you hiss out his name, but just hearing your voice turns him on more and you have to grip his face with you fingers for him to stop moving and pay attention.

"if you want me to keep going," punctuated by a squeeze to his jaw, "then- look at me when i'm talking to you, then you're gonna have to shut up." your gaze is so intense he's nodding before he's even fully comprehended the words you've said.

his pretty amber eyes roll back into his head as your hand finally slips underneath his boxers and you grasp his hot, sticky, dick with your cold soft hands. "oh wow," you snicker, "you're so messy."

your words make denki whine, silenced by a stern look before he pouts. "what so you can talk but i can't even-, oh fuck-" you squeeze him, the weight heavy in your hands.

"yeah, because you're leaking all over my hand."

he holds in his whine this time cussing under his breath and looking at you. his pretty face obscured by strands of hair all wild and messy sticking up at odd angles. his lips are pink and swollen, drool threatening to spill out of his mouth, cheeks flushed.

"that's not fair," he hisses at you but you remain largely unbothered by his attitude as you thumb his tip. "you're teasing."

"i'm not doing anything, you're the one that can't keep it together."

"i-" he starts but you pick up speed and cover his mouth with your free hand so he's free to buck and whine all he wants.

"look at you, are you gonna finish like this? i've barely even touched you."

its like your words are directly fuelling the grind of his hips, he humps against you furiously, drool spilling all down his face, soiling that hand as well. like he can't help but make a mess in all directions.

you can tell he's close when his eyes start fluttering and his body starts twitching crazily.

your hand drops from his face, quickly wiping the drool onto his tshirt before snaking your way back up and applying light pressure to the base of his neck.

that does it for him as he comes with a whine of your name, followed by jagged breath and the crazy stutter in his hips.

you give him a second to catch his breath before you start tearing into him about the mess he's made and about how he better not have gotten any cum on your dress.

"always complaining about something, i swear," he rolls his eyes and before you can bite back he slips your cum soiled fingers into his mouth and runs his tongue along each individual finger before giving a hard suck. you watch him mouth slightly agape, and the pulsing heat in between your thighs makes itself apparent to you.

"you are such a slut." he grins mouth full and you press down on his tongue. "you wanna get outta here?"

heyyyyyy guys sorry ik i said i'd do part 3 of dealer reader WHICH WILL COME but this was a random burst of inspiration i got last nigjt when i was omw back from the last sesh of the season before all my friends fuck off out of london but and one of my mates is super obsessed with the dare and made us listen to the whole album while we were out on the field ANYWAYS IK U DONT CARE but this was so yummy and juicy to write so i hope u enjoyed 😝😝😝😝😝

[graceisinthelibrary]

For @royalbesties

From the "Send me a prompt, get a drabble" challenge. She asked for no 8, "How long were you planning on hiding this`"

I hope you will like it. It's set after episode 6 of Series 5.

It's not the first time I play with this idea, but it doesn't seem to leave me....

“How long were you planning on hiding this?” The question left him mortified. There was still enough elderberry wine in his system to make his head pound, but he wasn’t as drunk as before. Somehow he had made it up the stairs into his room for a nap. Now he was hangover and she had offered to look after the cuts all over his arms, face, and shoulder. He didn’t mind the little indulgence, but he had completely forgotten that her offer to treat his minor wounds meant he had to take off his shirt - well, what was left of it after the hike he and Tris had made through the Dales.  

After a decade of sharing his home with a woman like Audrey Hall, he should have known that nothing, truly nothing, escaped her notice. How she did it was a mystery to him, but his mother used to say that women were more perceptive than men and maybe that was the key. It didn’t matter now, because his housekeeper had found out his secret within less than a week’s time and it was no one else’s fault but his own. 

“Seriously, Mr Farnon…” She seemed a little embarrassed, at any rate flustered. She put down the small bottle with her witch’s ointment and disposed of the pad she used to apply it. 

“Just promise not to tell anyone,” he begged. “It’s personal!” 

“A grown man your age…” She sounded aghast and he felt how the pounding in his head intensified. Then there was the heat in his cheeks that had nothing to do with the elderberry wine. 

The comment about his age didn’t bode well with him. What was she implying? Not too long ago she had told him he had still plenty of him and now she was calling him old? 

“This has nothing to do with age,” he countered, hoping she didn’t think he was going through some sort of midlife crisis. He quickly pulled his shredded shirt over his shoulder and gulped down the coffee she had prepared for him. 

“When did you even get it?” She wondered. 

“Last week.” 

“I see…” 

He touched his right shoulder and flinched. It still hurt a little. “Oh bugger!” Sensing her eyes on him he looked up - most reluctantly - and awaited her withering assessment. If he feared anyone’s judgement it was hers. God himself could knock at his front door and tell him, he was about to go to hell and he wouldn’t mind. But she was something else. Her good opinion meant everything to him. 

“Can I… can I see it again?” She asked with a fierce blush spreading over her cheeks. To say he was surprised was an understatement. He was flabbergasted and secretly pleased. “Alright…” 

He turned his back on her and slowly pulled down the remainders of his shirt. For almost a minute she didn’t speak and he wondered if she was still there, but then he felt her fingertips on his shoulder blade and he gasped. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered. “I have to give you that.” She paused and then she added in a low voice, “Is it… did you… were it her idea?”

Her? He blew his cheeks. Did she mean Miss Grantley? Well, since she couldn’t talk about Helen, this had to be about Miss Grantley. Miss Grantley. The thought of his clumsy attempts to get her attention to prove himself - and the world - that he still got it, made him squirm. He had truly blown that one and he was definitely not eager to repeat the experience. 

“No,” he answered truthfully. “Not in the least.” 

Then again he felt her fingertips on his skin. They were tracing the outline of the horse that had been inked on his shoulder blade. A shiver flushed down his spine.   

“It’s Vonolel…not the rat, my horse from Ypres.” 

“Handsome creature.” He couldn’t get enough of her fingers on his bare skin, but the sensation was over too quickly when she removed her hand and told him to get decent again. 

“You won’t tell anyone, will you?” He asked as he buttoned his shirt, a pretty useless action that at least gave his fingers something to do. “Not after I read the riot act to Tristan for inking a camel on his arse.” 

“Your secret’s safe with me,” she assured him with a chuckle. “How about a sandwich. I happen to have some jam…” 

[staryscorner]

Monster

Paring: In-ho x reader

You and In-ho have had a steady relationship. You both met at a bar and since that day he has shown you almost every side there is to him. He trusts you with every little secret of his, even how he is the “Frontman” of some sort of game. Although you don't know what type of game it is you just thought it was nothing to worry about. He's your finance. So one day he said that he was going on a work trip which he would take every once in a while. You never went to any of them since you knew it was work, but for some reason you felt like you needed to go this time.

“Hey honey, would you mind if I tag along to your work trip?”

“Um well i'm not sure dear you might get bored and want to go home” He said chuckling nervously. 

Now you definitely had to go! He never acted this weird about his work.

“Come on sweetheart it’s just a week right you always come back looking so happy I want to see what brings you so much joy.” you said pushing him to take 

“And since it’s work I can be there to cheer you on if you ever feel down you know? So that’s why you should bring me” feeling like this would make him bring you.

He did hesitate for a bit but he said you could come 

.

.

.

After packing and heading on a boat you were surprised that it was just you and him.

“Where’s everyone else?” 

“There already at the destination so no need to worry” He said grinning at you 

“But I do need to tell you something … Once we get on this island you might see me in a whole other way and I hope that you feel no different than you do now about me” In-ho said in a worried tone

You were confused but what could make you change the way you feel about him

After finally reaching the island he went to the back of the ship and took out an all black leather outfit and a black mask 

“What's with the outfit?”

He didn't say a word, he just continued to put it all on and he handed you a similar mask and outfit.

“Just follow me and don't speak to anyone once we get off”

He was almost like another person this couldn't be your In-ho he was never this cold to you, but you didn't ask since your head was spinning with questions

You entered from a pit in the mountains and had to do a lot of climbing but once you saw made it to the top it was dark lit room which looked luxurious but one he walked you to the main room your heart sank… there were people put in track suits with panicked expressions 

“In-ho WHAT IS GOING ON!” you yelled at him

“Calm down you haven't even seen what my job is” 

He got up and told the guards dressed in pink to escort the players to the first game. You just keep on thinking is this what he meant when he said game

Once everyone was escorted to what seemed to be a dry land with a robot girl, that's when the true horrors began. You saw the robot turn around and say “green light” maybe this might be nothing to worry about, it's just a kids game. Maybe his job was to entertain people. Then the robot said red light and once she turned around the people who were moving were shot and blood flew everywhere.

Now this was something that you could not unsee. You looked up to now see the man you had trusted he was smiling he looked like he could laugh any second 

“I'm leaving, I'm sorry but I can't be with you anymore after this. I know I said I wasn't going to see you differently but this was something I was expecting.

“NO WAIT YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME” He grabbed your arm aggressively and would let you go

“You know too much and I can't have you reporting this to the police just stay here and nothing will happen to you I swear” 

You were trembling “Im sorry but I just can't I swear I wont tell the police but please just let me leave” 

.

.

. 

He let go of your arm and you just ran leaving the same way you entered Once you made it out you felt a sharp and hot feeling coming from your chest as you looked down you saw blood which made you fall you turned around and saw him the man you once loved the one you thought you knew everything about … your future husband

He had tears in his eyes he tried not to look pathetic but he really was he loved you with all his heart and he had to now kill you just for a selfish reason of him not getting found out and he knew that you wouldn't say anything but he still had to do it 

“I will always love you” Those were your final words before you collapsed and had stopped breathing. He just came near you holding your cold body in his arms

Now he was truly a monster

A/n: OHH YEAAA ANOTHER ONE DONE ISTG LEE BYUNG HUN is just so FINEEEE LIKEEE!!!

I hope y'all enjoy this!!

[aishangotome]

[Nokto] Love's Cleaning Time - Part 2

Part 1

Emma: Could it be that the sender of this book is... Nokto?

Nokto: Nope. It's not me.

Emma: Oh, is that so...

Even though I expected it, Nokto's overly casual reply left me speechless, still holding the book.

(But I do have my own reasons for thinking it might be Nokto.)

(Anyway, let's keep talking.)

Emma: I was thinking...

Emma: Since they're always books I like, I think the sender must be someone who knows me well.

Nokto: There are other people who know your tastes well, aren't there? Like Rio.

Emma: I think he does know them well, but if it were Rio, he would give them to me directly...

Emma: And when I tell you a book has arrived, Nokto, you always look happy, don't you?

Nokto: When you're happy, I'm happy. I think that's natural, isn't it?

Emma: Mm... That's certainly true, but...

Emma: But you always ask me if I like the content of the book every time one arrives, don't you? Even though you usually don't care that much.

Nokto: It's only natural for me to want to know more about you as your lover.

Nokto: Were you that suspicious?

Emma: Ah, I wasn't suspicious... Of course I was happy to be asked for my impressions!

Even though I hurriedly denied it, Nokto smiled mischievously, making me feel like I was being toyed with in the palm of his hand.

(I have a feeling it's definitely Nokto... Hmm, how can I get him to tell me?)

(Let's try a little harder...)

Emma: Ah...!

Suddenly, the books I was holding were snatched away.

Nokto: You're being cold, thinking only about books.

Nokto: So, this conversation is over.

Nokto: Pay attention to your lover in front of you, not the sender of the books.

Nokto: Or are you deliberately trying to make me jealous and melt into a puddle?

Emma: Eh?

Nokto: Ah, I knew it. Sorry I didn't notice.

Emma: No, that's not it at a—Wa, hey, Nokto!?

The books were placed on the side table, and in no time I was pushed down onto the bed.

He sensually stroked my stomach over my skirt, and my body instantly heated up.

Nokto: See, you were hoping for it. The look on your face right now, you're already starting to melt thinking about what's coming next.

Emma: That's not true... Ah!

Nokto: You're stubborn, aren't you? I love that you haven't changed at all in that way.

(Honestly... Nokto is the stubborn one.)

Emma: Ah...

At the same time that he pushed my legs up with his knee, then he stole my lips.

My mind immediately melted with the deep, intense kiss...

Nokto: Resume talking about books, or let me make love to you right now.

Nokto: Which would you prefer?

(That's not fair... There's only one answer.)

With trembling hands, I grabbed Nokto's shirt.

Emma: ...I want Nokto.

Nokto: Good girl. Well done.

Nokto: As you wish, I'll love you until you lose consciousness.

In the end, the talk about the sender of the books was pushed out of my mind.

*flashback over*

-

A few days after that, I was visiting a bookstore in town.

This bookstore, a favorite of mine since I was a child, gives me a sense of security and nostalgia just by entering it.

*flashback*

(Rio told me that he saw Nokto come to this bookstore, didn't he?)

(If I knew that he chose those books here, it would be certain that Nokto was the sender, but...)

Bookstore owner: I don't know anything.

Emma: But Rio said that Nokto came here.

Bookstore owner: Maybe he mistook him for someone else. More importantly, I have a book I want to recommend to you, Miss Emma.

(It's hard to imagine Rio mistaking Nokto for someone else. And the shopkeeper's attitude... Could it be...?)

Emma: Um, did you talk to Nokto about something?

Bookstore owner: Not at all.

Emma: Or maybe he was told not to tell anyone...

Bookstore owner: I-I have no idea what you're talking about...

(This is going nowhere! Is there a better way to ask...?)

Determined not to end up like I did when I asked Nokto, I desperately rack my brain.

(How about trying some leading questions? No, that's too advanced for me right now...)

(Ahhh, if only I had learned more negotiation skills from Nokto, I could have extracted information from the shopkeeper!)

Bookstore owner: ...Miss Emma, you look happy.

Emma: ? Yes, I'm very happy.

I feel a little embarrassed by the words that slipped out so easily.

Bookstore owner: When I heard the rumor that you had caught the eye of a royal, I was worried about what would happen, but seeing your face today has put my mind at ease.

Bookstore owner: I've known you since you were a little girl, so I was worried.

Clearing his throat gently, the shopkeeper seems to think for a moment.

Bookstore owner: ... Lately, I've had many opportunities to get my hands on some delicious alcohol.

Emma: Alcohol, is it?

(Why bring that up all of a sudden...?)

Bookstore owner: A man comes by with alcohol as a gift. And he chooses a few books.

Bookstore owner: The man always picks up romance novels, and they're all the kind that Miss Emma would like.

Emma: !

Bookstore owner: Watching him like that has been one of my recent pleasures.

("In exchange for alcohol, don't tell anyone I'm coming to the bookstore.")

(Nokto must have said that.)

(That's why the shopkeeper gave me this roundabout hint.)

However, there's still no definitive proof that the man is Nokto.

(It's no use mentioning his name directly. Then...)

An idea comes to mind.

Emma: Could that man be––

.

.

.

Part 3

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[drewsbuzzcut]

https://www.tumblr.com/drewsbuzzcut/771910257659248640/i-dont-think-i-ever-talked-about-mat-and-model?source=share

I would love a little blurb about them finding out, or maybe Mat going all out for their baby boy

Not edited so sorry about that! Here’s Mat and model finding out that Nolan is a boy!

“Would you like to find out the gender?” The sonographer asks.

The question catches you off guard. At the moment you’re still relishing in the sound of your baby’s heartbeat and the tears it brings to Mat’s eyes. You didn’t even realize that you’d be able to know the gender. You don’t know if you want to know, or if Mat wants to know.

You turn your face towards his, eyes finding his immediately and it’s all the assurance you need.

You both nod and say a nervous, “yes.”

After a pause that seemed to last forever, you hear the words, “it’s a boy.”

Everything seems to fall away except for Mat whose large hand is wrapped around yours, squeezing tightly.

“I knew it!” Your boyfriend is the first to speak, shock and elation laced in his voice.

“A boy?” You whisper more to yourself than anyone else.

“Yeah, baby. A baby boy,” he says with a giggle.

Mat leans closer to you, pushing some of your hair back and taking the time to gauge your reaction. Tears gather in yours eyes and you let your bottom lip free from the confines of your teeth. A soft sob mixed with a laugh bubbles from your chest, and you quickly bring Mat into a hug.

“Oh my god! We’re having a boy! Barzy, you were right all along,” you gasp, tightening your hold around his back.

“What can I say? Dad’s intuition,” he teased cockily and you can clearly picture his smirk.

Later in the day Mat decided to go out for some things for baby boy. Your cheeks hurt from all the smiling and you feel as if your heart could burst from all the excitement. Your pregnancy just became a lot more real now that you know what you’re having.

A text is sent to you from Mat to open the door because his hands will be full. You’re not even sure what he was supposed to be buying.

You open the door in a haste, excitedly jumping in place, ready to see your man.

“Car seat and paint secured,” he grins as he walks through the door with a big box in one arm and two pails of paint in the other.

“The blue paint we picked out?” You ask excitedly and grin so happily once you see that the paint and car seat are both exactly what you wanted.

“I also got the darker blue in case you wanted to go through with the stripes,” he hums nonchalantly.

“Ugh you’re so sexy right now,” you sigh, falling against the doorframe as you gawk at Mat.

Mat cocks an eyebrow at you, but then shoots you an even sexier smirk.

“I was thinking maybe we could do a hockey theme. Is that too predictable for us? I just really think it’d be cute. Plus we could put the hockey puck jelly cat in there,” Mat suggests in a ramble that makes you blush. He’s too cute.

“I think a hockey theme is fun. A little on brand, but we can make it super cute. I love that you’re so involved,” you whisper, tucking your hands underneath his shirt to feel his skin.

“Why wouldn’t I be involved?” He places his face in the crook of your neck, pecking you until you’re giggling.

“It’s just been a little hard with the roadies, but I appreciate that you’re still very present even when you’re working hard off the ice. I love you so much,” you say against his cheek, trailing your lips over to his.

“I love you and baby boy, so much.” You smile blissfully, but quickly resume your kiss.

A fiery need sparks within you as Mat’s tongue explores your mouth and his hands grasp at your hips and ass.

“I’m going to make his nursery everything you’ve ever wanted,” the hockey player states.

You swoon, knees like jello as you let him spin you around.

“I’m going to need you to do that quickly, because I desperately need you in our bed, in me,” you hum in his ear, long nails scratching his seemingly sensitive abdomen.

“Yes, ma’am,” he nods.

You nod back and with a soft slap to his chest, you walk away.

“Let’s get moving, hotshot,” you shout.

His footsteps follow immediately.