#but i had a serious urge to write these two and i need to post it

[disinherited-dornishman]

In honour of @helaenasbestfriend 's insane tags on my post, which inspired this two part trash from my end.

Part 2

Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, fantasies of regicide. TW: offscreen marital SA in part 2, because that's what doing one's duty as Alicent Hightower pertains.

Part 1/2

"I'm going to bed, Aemma," said the king.

The name rang through the courtyard like a tolling bell. Eyes turn, the beginnings of whispers follow, but some part of Criston cannot believe it truly happened.

He turns his eyes to his Queen.

When he sees what had been concern for her husband frozen still upon her beautiful visage, like a doe's last moments as it was struck in the heart by a hunter's arrow, he knows. And he cannot stop the quickening of his heartbeat, the clench of his jaw, that burning in his mind - not wild and rapid with panic and fear as the fire that had killed the Knight of Kisses. No, this burn was cold, pure rage.

"Shall I see after Queen Alicent, Your Grace?" Ser Harrold asks, pointedly.

The King stops in his tired shuffling, as though he finally noticed his mistake. Criston prays for a mere apology. Even that admission of wrong is better than pretending he had said nothing at all, and perhaps that would be enough to banish these thoughts of bloody dishonour from Criston's mind.

"No, Ser Harrold..." He shuffles along.

Criston watches his Queen's face fall.

"You have the night's watch, Ser Criston," Ser Harrold says. A look of warning as he walks away.

Criston is glaring. He knows it, but he cannot bring himself to care - cannot stop his grip tightening about his sword's leather hilt. The faint creak is defeaning in his ears.

Aemma. After all these years, all the humiliations, the unerring performance of his Queen in her... duties. The suffering.

Aemma.

One stroke, the voice whispers, swift and clean. That is all that's needed. More than he deserves. A fall down the stairs with no one around to hear and help him. They might whisper afterwards, but so be it. Let them. At least she would not need suffer-

"Come, Ser Criston." Her voice brings him back to reality. The horror is only brief.

They leave the courtyard together, sent off by whispers and looks she's grown accustomed to suffering. She holds her head high but she cannot fool Criston, for he had seen the distance in her eyes.

"Something disturbs your peace of mind, Ser," she says later the Red Keep's sept. Her voice is distant, but her attention is upon him, even as she kneels before the Mother's altar.

"It is nothing, my queen."

"Then nothingness has you terribly occupied." She looks at him over her shoulder. "Your silence concerns me, I must confess."

"I do not wish to not disturb the hallowed peace, my queen, that is all."

She gives him a look that almost feels like a plea. She dislikes his avoidance. He averts his eyes to the ground.

"That was unworthy of his grace," he says, impotently.

"He is unwell, his mind muddled," she says, more graceful in the face of injustice than Criston. "Do not hold it against him."

An act.

He hates it. He hates that he cannot punish the king (what a thought for a Kingsguard to harbour.) He hates what she must endure, and that he must endure watching her endure it, as useful in his vigilance as a gargoyle on Dragonstone.

"May I be honest?"

"Always, Good Ser."

"My thoughts disturb me. They too are... unwell."

There is a silence. His confession makes the hairs on his body stand. His heart races at the thought that he might have overstepped. It is one thing to say too much of the Queen's enemies, but her husband the King?

"Will you pray with me then?" she says, unreadable. "That your anger might be abolished?"

Her generosity, her trust, stuns him. Suddenly he cannot help but admire how beautiful she is in her furtive sorrow, and wish that he could see her smile. Banish all her ills and worries away. How long has he watched her suffer them?

"You honour me, your grace..."

She shuffles aside and pats the pillowed floor with a warm smile.

He swallows his heart back down his throat, removes the scabbard from his waist, kneels at her side, and clasps his hands together.

They pray in the comforting silence and stillness of the sept, under the warmth of the sunlight that is coloured rainbow by stained glass. Beside him, her warmth is radiant, crossing the distance between their flesh. It cools the fire in his mind until he is afloat.

He finds himself wishing he could shuffle closer and truly feel her flesh against his, just an arm, that it might comfort her...

But it is unseemly. Inappropriate. Unworthy.

So instead, he prays harder. Not for his own peace of mind, but for the gods to free his queen of her burden as swiftly as possible.

[fireinmoonshot]

control | robert reynolds x fem!reader

THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR MARVEL'S THUNDERBOLTS*.

Pairing: Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x Fem!Reader Summary: Bob always waits for you to come back from missions, but when you don't come back one day, his powers start to get a little out of hand. Warnings: Mentions of fighting, concussions and injuries. Word Count: 1.8k A/N: This is one of the other fic ideas from the poll that I posted the other day! I really loved writing this one, it was so much fun so I hope that you'll all enjoy it as well. Thank you for all the love on my Bob fics so far. I'm loving writing for him! 💗

“You need to tell Bob that he doesn’t have to worry about me,” you tell Yelena from where you’re standing, one of Bucky’s arms wrapped around you to help you stay upright due to the pounding in your head and the pain in your ankle. “He’s going to panic when I don’t come back with you guys.”

They’re the first things you say to Yelena when the team decides that it’s important to take you to a hospital so you can get looked at. You’ve all sustained injuries before, but being hit in the head as hard as you had been made everyone concerned, and the fact that everything is spinning a bit definitely isn’t a good sign. 

No one is surprised that your first thought isn’t about yourself, but about the man waiting for you back at the Watch Tower. They’re not oblivious to whatever it is that’s been going on between the two of you, but none of them have found the need to know specifics.

“We will,” Yelena assures you before urging Bucky to get going.

He’d been very insistent on accompanying you to the hospital as soon as they’d discovered the extent of your injury.

Yelena is full of nerves by the time they get back to the Watch Tower. The elevator journey to the penthouse, where Bob is waiting for you all to get back, is the longest minute of her life. There is no way that Bob is going to react well to this news, and part of their job involves keeping Bob and his powers in control, which is much easier to do when he’s calm and not worried about someone he cares for.

The second that Bob hears the elevator ding, he stands up from where he’d been sitting with his book and starts to jog towards it, a small smile on his lips. Everyone going on missions without him always makes him miss them more. You, especially.

“How did it go?” He asks, the second he sees Yelena exit the elevator.

His eyes scan over the rest of them – Walker, Ava and Alexei. You’re missing, and Bucky is missing as well. His heart drops into his stomach and he clenches one of his fists at his side, trying to control his emotions. 

“Where is she?” 

Yelena is quick to jump to action. She’s by Bob’s side in a second, placing a hand on his shoulder to try and help ground him. “She’s okay. Bucky took her to hospital to get looked at by a doctor but it’s nothing serious. She told me to tell you not to worry.”

He almost laughs at that. The fact that you’d told Yelena to tell him not to worry when of course he was going to worry about you, even if you’d told him not to. He spends half of his time worrying about you, especially when you go out on missions. This is the first time that you haven’t come home. The first time you’ve been injured more than just a couple of scrapes and bruises.

It’s the first time that Bob isn’t going to be the one patching you up afterwards. 

“What happened?” Bob asks, eyes flickering up to Yelena’s.

She tightens her grip on his shoulder a little. “Why don’t we sit down?”

“No,” he shakes his head and pulls away from her grip, starting to pace back and forth. He can’t help it even though he knows it’s only going to make him feel worse. “No, I need you to tell me what happened. Everything.”

Walker, Ava and Alexei stand just inside the door of the room, watching him with furrowed eyebrows and worried expressions. You’d warned them that Bob was going to panic, but they hadn’t realised it’d be quite this serious.

“I don’t think you need to know specifics,” Walker suggests, taking a few steps further into the room. “Just trust us that she’s okay, all right, Bobby?”

Their concern is further elevated when Bob doesn’t even bother to respond to Walker. He continues his pacing back and forth, occasionally mumbling under his breath so quietly that they can’t hear what he’s saying. 

If he’d been there, Bob thinks, maybe he could’ve prevented this. He should be going on missions by this point, even though he can’t really control his powers completely, he’s sure he could be of some use. He should’ve been there. It’s his fault, really, that you even got hurt in the first place. If he’d been there as The Sentry, he could’ve stopped all of this from happening and you’d be right beside him, unharmed. But you’re not. You’re in a hospital somewhere, probably alone in a clean, white room waiting for someone to check you over. You could be bleeding, maybe badly. There could be broken bones, or something internal that they can’t see until it’s too late. It could be any number of things, all of which could’ve been avoided by him being able to control his powers.

Yelena flinches as the lights in the penthouse start to flicker. She looks over at the others who all have the same expressions on their face. Bob is losing control. He continues pacing and the room starts to shake a little. She can hear the glasses in the cabinets clinking together. The coffee table vibrates on the floor and the windows start to creak a little. 

“Bob’s doing this…” Ava says, taking a step towards him. “We need to stop him.”

“He’s going to cause some real damage if we don’t,” Walker agrees.

Yelena is quick to respond. “I’ll take him to see her. It’s the only thing that’ll work.”

“What the hell are you thinking? He could get even worse once he’s outside!” 

“We have no other options!” Yelena shouts back.

She wastes no more time in walking over to Bob and stopping right in front of him where he’s standing. She’s a little surprised when Bob actually stops pacing and looks up, meeting her eyes. But then she sees the glowing in them and her concern grows.

“I’ll take you to the hospital to see her,” Yelena tries. “We can leave right now.”

The glowing in Bob’s eyes dims and then slowly disappears. She lets out a breath of relief, knowing that he’s back in control of himself now. The lights have stopped flickering and the room has stopped shaking. 

“You will?” Bob asks, voice soft.

“I will,” Yelena confirms. She extends a hand for him to hold. “Right now.”

He’s reaching for Yelena’s hand when there’s another ding of the elevator and his head snaps towards it. Everyone else in the room follows his gaze as the doors of the elevator open and you and Bucky are revealed. 

None of them have ever seen Bob run as fast as he does to get to you.

One second, he’s standing in front of Yelena and the next, he’s at your side, cradling your head in his hands and tilting it from side to side to examine the bandage that’s been wrapped around it and make sure you’re not injured too badly.

Bucky looks around at everyone. “What are you all doing?” 

“She was right,” Ava says, motioning to you. “Bob panicked when she didn’t come back.” 

His eyebrows furrow. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Walker confirms. “But your timing couldn’t have been any better.”

Neither you or Bob are listening to the conversation going on around you. You’re too focused on the feeling of Bob’s hands on your face and the look of relief on his face to focus on much else. He looks a little startled, too. His eyes are a little bit too wide and his breathing a little too heavy for someone who shouldn’t have been worrying about you.

“I’m all right, Bob, I promise,” you say, resting one of your hands on his wrist and dragging your thumb gently back and forth over his skin. “The doctors cleared me to go home. I have a mild concussion and a sprained ankle. I just need to rest.”

Bob shakes his head. “That’s not all right. A concussion is not all right.”

“It’s really okay,” you insist. “I promise I’ll tell you if I feel worse all of a sudden.”

“No,” Bob mutters, his gaze dropping from yours. “I should’ve been there. I could’ve protected you. If I had been there, none of this would’ve happened to you and you wouldn’t have gotten hurt. I should be able to be The Sentry without the other guy by now… if I could, I would’ve been there to save you from all of this pain.” His hands fall away from your face and he takes a step away from you. 

You frown, hating the way that he’s blaming himself for this happening when you were the only one at fault. You hadn’t been paying attention in the fight, too distracted by what everyone else was doing, and that had been the reason the man you’d been fighting had gotten the better of you and slammed you into the wall. Bob had nothing to do with it, not even you being distracted.

“Bob, that’s not true,” you sigh, taking a step towards him and taking his face in your hands to force him to look at you. “None of this is your fault. How many times have you patched me up before? This is not the first time I’ve been injured on a mission. You’ve been there for me every time to patch me up afterwards. You always save me from my pain.”

His eyes meet yours again and you almost crumble at the sadness in them. He’d really been that worried about you that he’d turned to blaming himself for it… telling Yelena to tell him not to worry was clearly never going to work.

“This time, it was too much pain for me to patch you up from, though,” he murmurs.

“No, it wasn’t. I still need time to heal. And you’ll be there for me while I do, won’t you?”

Bob nods. “I’m not leaving your side.” 

You reach down and take his hands in yours, giving them a squeeze. “You don’t have to.”

He takes a long, deep breath and steps a little closer towards you before leaning down and resting his forehead on top of yours, careful to avoid the bandage that’s wrapped around it and careful not to apply too much pressure in case he hurts you. “When I can control my powers,” he begins, “I’m never letting you get hurt again.”

“That’s a big promise.”

“I’ll keep it,” Bob hums. He stands up for only a second to lean down and press his lips briefly to your forehead, just underneath where the bandage is placed. “I’m glad you came home.”

You smile at the kiss and give his hands another squeeze. “I always will, so long as I have you waiting for me when I do.”

[discordantwritings]

Creative Cures (Mihawk x Reader)

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, gn afab! Reader, sex pollen trope (but it’s a devil fruit power), the inherent dubcon of sex pollen but the con is as con as it can get under the circumstances, intercrural sex, PiV sex, creampie, mild cumplay, semi public sex

WC: 3.3k

Summary: As a relatively high ranking Marine doctor you were in charge of Dracule Mihawk’s post mission check ups. Normally you don’t have to do anything- until he shows up sick.

The only solution both you and him can agree on is a little… unconventional

Notes: I (lovingly) blame @fanaticsnail for this. All of her lovely sex pollen fics pushed me over the edge to write this one so go check hers out. Go.

Tagging: @keiva1000

Most Marines didn’t like it when Mihawk had to come check in and give his after mission report in person. But you barely considered yourself a Marine anyways, always thinking of yourself as a doctor first before anything. A doctor who just so happened to be in charge of doing all of Mihawk’s post mission check ups.

Of course it took him a while to actually agree to do any sort of post mission work, but despite his generally sour attitude inside the Marines base he was never mean to you. Dismissive? Sure. Non-compliant with any medical advice you’d give? Yes. But that’s what you dealt with on a day to day basis. He was one of the few people you could have intelligent conversation with- he would listen to you and you would cherish the snippets of traveling stories you would get out of him.

Your check ups were never more than a handful of minutes, you had never seen him get more than a scratch, but he always let you run down your required checklist. Despite this you always cleared out half your day, just in case. So today, a day he was set to check in at your base, you sat patiently in your office until he was done talking with your superiors.

And waited.

And waited some more.

Until, finally, there was a frantic knock on your door before a frazzled looking cadet burst in. You immediately stand up and get serious- mass injuries were unfortunately commonplace for you to deal with and he had the scared look of someone who just saw a ship roll in half destroyed.

“Doctor-“

“How bad.”

“It’s Mihawk.”

That caught you entirely off guard and your stomach drops. “How bad?”

“We don’t know. He was giving his report and then he looked flushed and that’s when he ran out. Apparently he’s locked himself in some spare office and won’t come out.” He explains and you slowly get more and more concerned.

You quickly grab your bag and sling in over your shoulder, practically pushing the cadet out the door with you as you order him to show you where Mihawk is. It’s a quick jog down hallways and stairs but eventually you get to a door with two cadets on either side. One of your captains is leaning on the wall across from the door looking exasperated.

“The only thing he’s telling us is to leave him alone.” The captain explains, gesturing to the door.

You sigh and walk up to the door, rapping on it with your knuckles. “Mihawk, you’ve got everyone worried out here.”

A few seconds pass before you hear Mihawk’s voice, muffled from behind the steel door. “Doctor?”

“Everyone said you looked sick.” You explain.

There’s a long pause and you’re about to speak again before you hear his voice. “You all need to get out of here.”

You see the captain throw up his hands in your peripheral and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. Turning your attention back to your fellow Marines you gesture down the hallway.

“Give me a few minutes alone with him.” You don’t need to tell them twice, and they eagerly take the relief.

You wait a few beats for them to clear out and then turn your attention back to the door. “Alright, it’s just us.”

“I thought I made it clear that all of you needed to leave me alone.” You can tell he’s close to the door, which you take as somewhat of a good sign.

“Look, if it’s something contagious I just need to know. If it’s something embarrassing I’m a doctor and I take confidentiality incredibly seriously.” There’s silence and you lean on the door. “Just let me help you.”

You hear him moving behind the door and then the heavy sound of the lock turning. You give him a few seconds before you enter, closing the door after yourself immediately.

All the lights are off, only the small amount of light through the high circular windows illuminating the space. It takes you a second to locate Mihawk but eventually you find him, shoulders hunched as he leans on an abandoned desk. It’s jarring to see his normally perfect posture gone and even in the low light you can see the intense flush over his face and exposed chest. You don’t need a thermometer to see that his temperature is dangerously high.

“What happened?” You don’t approach him, hoping the space gives him some comfort.

“It was-“ He breaks off as he pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Some Devil Fruit user. Don’t know what the power was but I inhaled some smoke and then-“

He trails off and you know you’re probably in a bit over your head. Devil Fruit powers could be quite literally anything. You shove all that down though and hope your nervousness doesn’t show. “What are your symptoms?”

Mihawk shakes his head. “This was a mistake I shouldn’t have let you in you need to-“

“Mihawk I need you to tell me.” You’re unsure where this confidence is coming from, there’s not a world in which you would ever be in a position to tell a warlord what to do. But to your surprise, it works.

“I’ll kill you if you tell anyone.” He practically growls.

“You have my word.”

“Fine.” You see him shift and it looks like he’s uncomfortable in his own skin. “I have a fever, I am experiencing some mental fog, and my senses seem to be heightened.”

It’s your years as a doctor that let you immediately know he’s holding something back. “And?”

His gaze darts up and he glares at you making your blood run ice cold. If looks could kill you would be a pile of viscera on the floor. Despite this, he does give you and answer.

“I am in an… unnatural state of arousal.”

Oh.

That would certainly explain a few things.

You let your doctor brain take over as you set your bag on the ground, opening it and looking through what you have. Medication wouldn’t help since the cause was a Devil Fruit power but…

“Okay. I have a few ideas.” You reach into your bag and pull out an ice pack, throwing it over to Mihawk who easily catches it and presses it to his forehead. “The first is what you are doing, which is isolate until the effect stops. I’m not sure this is the best idea since you seem to be incredibly uncomfortable.”

“What else.”

“I could sedate you and hopefully have it flushed out of your system by the time you wake up.” You offer, showing him the vial of clear liquid.

“Absolutely not. I refuse to be further incapacitated around you Marines.” He spits out the last word and you would be offended if you actually considered yourself a Marine.

“Alright. Those are my… sensible ideas.”

“Which implies there are insensible ones. Spit it out.”

You can’t blame him for being short but it didn’t make your next concepts any easier to say. “I could find you someone to… ride it out with.”

That idea hangs in the air and you watch Mihawk screw his eyes shut, clearly struggling. “I don’t- it’s insufferable enough to be vulnerable on a Marine base but you want to bring in some stranger-“

“You’re right, I’m sorry.”

A thought pops into your head as you scramble for more ideas as Mihawk’s composure slowly keeps slipping. It’s a stupid thought, one a doctor like you shouldn’t have even had. But in the moment, pressed for ideas, it tumbles out of your mouth before you can even think properly about it.

“I would help you.”

You realize what you’ve said a moment too late and wish that somehow the floor would swallow you whole. It’s not like you don’t want to- it’s clear that your stupid monkey brain has always held on an attraction to the incredibly handsome warlord- but offering yourself up like this?

Beyond wildly inappropriate.

“Don’t say things like that.” Mihawk says as he backs up a few steps and shame hits you like a brick wall.

“I’m so sorry- it was- you shouldn’t be with anyone when you’re compromised like this I’ll just-“ You fumble over your words and quickly turn to unlock the door and get out of there.

Before your hand can even reach the handle an arm comes out from behind you and slams on the door. Suddenly you feel the intense heat of Mihawk’s body behind you, heavy breath fanning over the back of your neck. He doesn’t press into your body but instead hovers and your mind can’t quite keep up with the sudden change in events.

“Don’t say things like that if you don’t mean it.” His voice is low and dripping with lust.

Your gaze is locked forward as you try to control your breathing. “I meant it.”

“Last chance.”

The professional part of your brain gets smashed to smithereens as he presses his body against yours. “If you’re sure you want this then-“

The air is knocked out of your lungs as he steps forward, pushing you harshly into the door. One hand knots in your hair while the other snakes around your waist and pulls you in impossibly closer. The grip on your hair forces your head to the side, giving Mihawk the space to attack your neck, teeth digging into your skin immediately. As he does so he grinds his hips up and you can feel just how painfully hard he is against your ass.

The hand on your waist pulls at your uniform pants and you quickly get the idea, using your free hands to shove them down. You’re only able to get them just over your ass with how your legs are pressed apart by Mihawk’s but that seems to be enough for him. His hands leave you for a second and you hear the clatter of his belt before both hands tightly grip your hips.

You feel his cock slide between your folds, not entering you but instead sliding between your lips. His shaft is almost scorching hot as it slides against your clit, slick dripping from you and easing his shallow and fast thrusts.

“I just- fuck I just have to take the edge of your so-“ The grip on your hips is bruising as he holds you still to use you.

“It’s alright just-“ You can practically feel every vein against your sensitive clit and you bring one of your hands up and back to dig into his hair.

The scratch of your nails in his scalp is all Mihawk needs to tip over the edge, grunting as he spills onto the door and your thighs. You feel his heavy breath on your neck as he collects himself but the hardness against you doesn’t fade. You hear frustration in a low growl against your back but despite this he places kisses over the deep bite marks he created on your neck.

Slowly Mihawk pries his body away from yours and you take the opportunity to quickly toe off your shoes and slip your pants all the way off. When you turn around you see Mihawk watching you from a large chair, slowly pumping his cock, soaking from you slick.

“Get the rest of that god awful uniform off doctor.” You quickly discard your jacket and pull your shirt over your head, earning an appreciative hum from Mihawk. “What a pity you have to hide all that.”

You flush under his compliment and piercing gold gaze. With his free hand he beckons you over and you obey without hesitation. The second you’re close enough he pulls you into his lap, your thighs pushed apart by his spread ones. Your hands grab his shoulders to stabilize yourself as his hands find your hips once more.

“Normally I would work you open darling but-“ He nuzzles into your neck, breathing in your scent. “You can take it, can’t you?”

He doesn’t wait for a reply before one incredibly strong hand pushes you down while the other lines himself up with your entrance. You don’t fight him as his tip presses into you, stretching you out. You curse as he pushes into you a bit faster than you can adjust, but probably significantly slower than he wants to fuck into you. The sting feels good mixed with the way Mihawk curses and praises you under his breath, words barely understandable as his fingers bruise your waist.

“Just like that- so fucking tight-“ He mouths at your collarbone as you sink down and your head falls back as he splits you open.

Soon enough your hips meet his and you moan and dig your nails into Mihawk’s shoulders. He can’t help but shallowly thrust up into you, hot breath fanning over your skin as his instincts seem to overwhelm him. Once you feel ready you work to move your hips in time with his, pulling yourself up and down further on his length.

“That’s it- you’ve been waiting for an excuse to fuck yourself on my cock huh? Proper little doctor- I’ve seen how you- fuck- how you look at me.” You flush with embarrassment and look down to see his golden eyes blown out by darkness.

Maybe you should have some shame, knowing you were seen through so easily, but when he looks up at you like that you can’t think of anything else. You quickly press your lips to his and he seems caught off guard for a second- only to quickly overtake the kiss. One strong hand grips the back of your neck and holds you in place as his tongue slips between your lips. You stay like this until your lungs scream at you and you push yourself back and gasp for air.

You’re about to lean in for another kiss when you notice Mihawk’s gaze quickly dart to the door. You’re confused for a second but soon a loud knocking bounces off the steel door.

“Doctor- status report?” One of the cadets yells through the door and you swear under your breath.

You stop your movements, hoping to catch your breath and sound somewhat put together but Mihawk has other ideas. The second you falter he grabs your hips and starts moving you up and down effortlessly and when you glare at him he only grins up at you.

Seems he still has the mental capacity to be an ass.

“We are-“ You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to stop a moan after a skillfully directed thrust. “We are quarantining until some of my tests are- are done processing.”

There’s a pause before the cadet responds. “Okay… are you alright? You’re not sick are you?”

When one of Mihawk’s hands leave your hips you know something is up and you’re able to bite down on your hand in time to stifle the moan that leaves your body when his skilled fingers find your clit. You’re so close to an orgasm but you fight it back just long enough to get this stupid cadet out of here.

“Quarantine this hallway until my further say- that’s an order!” You yell out and you hope and pray the cadet doesn’t hear the pleasure in your voice.

“Y-Yes!” The voice shouts back and you hope he’s running down the hall because you can’t take this anymore.

“What would your fellow Marines think?” Mihawk’s voice, cruel and playful, rings in your ears. “They’re precious doctor getting fucked stupid by a pirate- fuck you like that don’t you?”

You can only nod, overwhelmed by hick cock and fingers skillfully taking you apart.

“You’re squeezing me so tight- just- need you to cum all over my cock- you can do that can’t you? Cum for me-“ There’s a hint of desperation in his voice and his command breaks any last tethers you were using to hold off your orgasm snap.

Mihawk swears loudly as your walls convulse around him and it’s only seconds later he’s holding your hips down hard against his and spilling inside you. You lay your forehead on Mihawk’s shoulder as you ride out the waves of your orgasm. Even after you catch your breath he’s still hard inside you and you know you’re not done yet.

“I just want to see- hold on.” Is the only warning you get before Mihawk is standing up.

Your legs instinctively wrap around his hips but his strong hands on your ass are more than enough to keep you up. He moves a few feet to the desk, setting you down on it and tapping your thigh once you’re settled. You get the idea and unlatch your legs, letting him slip out and away from you.

“Let me see.” Mihawk says as he pushes your knees apart, eyes transfixed between them. “Fuck.”

He watches as his cum leaks out of you, his fingers quickly scooping it up and shoving it back inside of you. In any other headspace you might think that was disgusting but the way he watches you and is claiming you makes it incredibly arousing. Once he’s satisfied he brings his fingers up to your mouth and you automatically take them between your lips, tasting the mix of your fluids.

“I’m- fuck- you’re perfect.” He seems reluctant to take his fingers from your mouth but the second both his hands are free he’s easily flipping you around and pushing your chest into the desk.

There’s no warning before he’s plunging into you again, your hips roughly meeting the edge of the wooden desk. You don’t really feel the pain amongst the pleasure, oversensitive from your previous orgasm. You feel open mouth kisses pepper your spine as he thrusts into you from behind. While one of his hands stays on your hips- your skin practically indented in the shape of his fingers there now- one reaches down to your thigh, giving it a squeeze before he pushes your leg upwards. The new angle is heavenly as you just let yourself be used- sliding forwards and backwards on the desk with each powerful thrust.

“Need you to- fuck darling I just need you to cum on me again- please I need to feel it-“ Mihawk sounds so desperate, a whine to his voice that he no longer can hide. “Just a little bit more for me-“

Your body seems to crave following his commands and another orgasm is ripped from your sensitive body. Only a few moments later you feel him cum inside you again, and you’re confident at this point he’s dripping out of you onto the floor.

“So good for me- taking all my cum-“ He’s breathless as he pulls out of you again and you don’t need to turn around to know he’s staring at your fucked out hole.

When he actually give you space for a minute you turn your head, still using the table to support your weight. “You feel better?”

“Hm…” His hand skates up your back, soothing you. “Feeling just sated enough to get you back to the room I’m staying in.”

The prospect of going more rounds was overwhelming but you can’t deny that you wanted it more than anything. One problem.

“If anyone sees me I think they’ll figure out some of what happened.” From your messed up hair, the bruises forming on your neck, and the fact that there’s no way you’ll be able to walk normally- yeah it’ll be obvious you were just fucked within an inch of your life.

“Oh doctor.” He pulls you up off the desk and places a surprisingly tender kiss on your forehead. “If anyone else sees you like this I’ll kill them.”

[romanteacism]

Knight Aemond x Princess Reader Pretense

Synopsis: An afternoon of pretense that makes Ser Aemond question all that he believes and the possibility of him wanting more than what his station is fit for. Warnings: None (yet), Aemond and Reader becoming closer, infatuation, Jealousy, Aemond Discovering Emotions, Fluff, Fake-Marriage PREVIOUS PART / NEXT PART A/N: I was giggling and kicking my feet the entire time writing this

“Sister, you’re absolutely flushed! Was lord Arthur here?” Your brother asked with a teasing grin, making you scowl at him as he sat across from you. As always, you were in the gardens of the summer palace with your sworn protector watching over your day-to-day activities, minus a second knight, much to Aemond’s relief. “Oh, shut up!” You muttered, looking upon your lap and bringing your clammed, cold hands up to your cheeks, attesting how heated they indeed were. “I’ve never seen you like this,” Your brother grinned as he poured himself a cup of tea and refiled your own cup as well. You grumbled and rolled your eyes as you urged your face to be rid of the flush that spread throughout. 

Aemond gritted his jaw. Not only did he have to suffer watching as Lord Arthur tried to engage with you throughout the whole of the morning— and you utterly besotted by every little thing he did. Now, he had to hear the recollection of events as your brother had joined you in the gardens, offering no reprieve for your knight, who was already growing tired of the thought of Lord Arthur. “Do you think he will be the one you shall choose?” You choked on your tea, and Aemond’s gaze turned lethal at your brother’s question. 

“Gods, brother— I barely know him!” You exclaimed, trying to find your napkin, but it had fallen from your lap; luckily, your knight was quick to retrieve his handkerchief and offered it to you. “Thank you, Ser Aemond.” You say and dabbed your lips. “Seriously, brother, enough with such subjects.” You say, and Aemond silently agrees as he returns to his post behind you. “You must think of your betrothal soon— you are of age, sister. Father and I are drowning in a sea of parchment, and as much as I want you to stay in our home and care, I would very much like the countless scrolls addressed to me by the eligible bachelors of the realm cease! Just earlier, I was rudely woken before the first light with a scroll marked ‘urgent,’ but it was simply a proposal for your hand!” 

You shook your head. “Why are you pressuring me into a betrothal and marriage when you yourself are not burdened by such matters? Should you not be married first? You are, after all, older than me and are set to be the next king,” You raised a brow, and your brother failed to find a response to your query, simply changing the subject altogether. “So, are you ready for the end of the summer ball?” You bit your lip to hinder your laugh at your brother’s tactic to change the subject. 

“Not quite— Theodore had accidentally ruined my gown,” You pouted, wholly dismayed by your pet cat who had used your dress as his own scratching post. “I’ve sent a raven home to ask the maids to send another, but I do not think it would come in time,” You sighed, troubled as to what to wear for the ball that would take place in two days' time. “Then go to town and have another made,” Your brother shrugged as he finished his tea. You furrowed your brows, “You would let me leave the castle?” You questioned in surprise. “As long as you bring your guards and do not run off again to god knows where.” Your lips parted, uncertain if your brother was being serious. “Truly? Do you mean it?” You questioned as he stood. “Yes, we need you looking your best for Lord Arthur, lest he becomes uninterested and leaves you to be a spinster.” He teased and quickly placed a chaste kiss on your temple before running off before you could retaliate at his jest. 

“Your hood, princess,” Aemond said, tugging at the hem of your cover to conceal your face. “Do not fret so much, Ser Aemond. All of this disguise makes them more suspicious,” You say as you walk along the town with your knight by your side. Aemond disagreed, but he stayed silent; he turned behind the two of you to ensure the other knights were still in tow and the other guards he ordered to patrol throughout the town were by their post. 

“Flowers for the lady?” A florist called at Ser Aemond by the side of the alley, urging him to take one of her bouquets. Aemond ignored the call, but you were distracted by the pretty flowers. “Ooh…” You trailed, bemused by the colorful display, burying your nose into a bouquet of lilacs. Aemond waited tensely as you made conversation with the vendor, hoping you would not be recognized. “Princess—“ He whispered, tugging at your arm as he saw the woman starting to realize who you were. “Enough formalities… would not want them to grow suspicious, would you not, Aemond?” You whispered as you turned to your knight, addressing him without formal titles for the first time. Aemond licked his lips, an odd sensation spreading through his body as you addressed him solely by his name. 

“Such a pretty girl you are… it’s a shame your husband would not buy you flowers,” The vendor suddenly sighed, rendering Aemond still in his spot. He expected you to deny such claims, but you only laughed at the vendor’s tactic of trying to sell her flowers through guilt. “It truly is a pity… before, when we were courting, he would just send me flowers without me even asking for them!  He would send them so often and in such large quantities that it turned my father’s home into a garden; even bees began to swarm it! Now, not even nagging or arm pulling would urge him to pick up a simple wildflower off the street!” You laughed, along with the woman who readily brought your pretense. Aemond just stood there, his cheeks flushed, and he felt his erratic pulse at the tip of his ears. “What happened to you, husband? Has marriage with me truly changed you?” You asked with a smile, your eyes urging him to join in your deception. 

“Come now, wife, we must get going,” He said and handed the vendor a few coins along with the bouquet he observed you liked the most and hastily took your arm to drag you to the seamstress. You laughed and yelled a quick ‘thank you’ to the woman who seemed happy enough that her most pricey bouquet was bought by what she believed were husband and wife. “That was fun,” You laughed at your pretend husband, who was too rigid as he walked by your side. “You could have been discovered, princess! What were you thinking?” He said, exasperated. You sighed and shook your head, taking the bouquet from his hand, letting your fingers brush, and you felt how cold his touch was. “What would get me discovered is your persistence in calling me princess. Come now, Ser Aemond, address me by my name, or have you forgotten it already?” You teased, but Aemond did not find the matter amusing at all— if anything, this visit to the town had made his already tense manner more austere. 

“Fine, keep calling me princess and have them discover I’m here— create a commotion and arouse more dang—“ Aemond sighed and finally uttered your name, unchained by any title. You smiled triumphantly up at him, but only an uncomfortable expression could be seen on his face as his stomach was in a knot. “You’re starting to offend me now. Am I that disagreeable that you could not even pretend that I am your wife for the afternoon?” You asked as you linked your arm with his. Aemond swallowed thickly at the question you proposed, when he did not answer because he his nerves and emotions that he always tried to conceal were starting to get the best of him, you felt dread pool in your gut. 

You stayed silent until you reached the seamstress’ shop, finally letting go of your knight’s arm. You talked with the woman who ran the shop, who as well did not know your true identity. Aemond stood by the door as you began to be fitted for your gown. “Sir, you need not stand by the door. Come, sit and have a cup as you wait for your wife,” An elderly man approached, ushering Aemond onto a seat, and he began to question if you two truly did look like husband and wife because the smallfolk readily believed and assumed such notions. 

“How lucky you are that your husband joins you with such errands; I could not even get my husband to accompany me to a simple walk along the town square!” The seamstress laughed as she measured the length of your arm. You laughed, turning to Ser Aemond with a teasing glint in your eyes as they were completely oblivious to who you were, too distracted with what they assumed to be a couple completely enthralled and devoted to one another. “Hm… it truly is rare to find such a man,” You smiled and returned to face the mirror, Ser Aemond shifting uncomfortably in his seat as he felt his heart flutter further. “Here you are, lad,” the old man offered him tea and sat next to Aemond. 

“So, how long have you two been married?” He questioned casually, trying to converse with a man who never enjoyed such things. “A—a year,” He said stiffly, sipping the hot liquid, his eye going to you, who he knew listened to the conversation even if your gaze was focused upon the fabric selection you were presented with. “Quite new— how long did you two court?” Aemond was asked, and his hold on the cup tightened as he could not dismiss the prying old man, for you will surely scold him. “Five years,” He muttered and saw the shock on the stranger’s face for the long courtship. “Her… her father had disapproved of the match— it took time to convince him.” 

“And convinced he was,” you interjected, making the two men turn to you. The old man smiled, “Lucky lad you are, such a comely wife who’s ready to defy her father’s wants— you rarely see that now. Girls are too afraid to go against their father’s order and have themselves disowned.” The man sighed, and Aemond stilled as you approached. “Better to have love and be destitute than be miserable with a dowry,” You shrugged. “What color do you think, husband? The pink or the cream?” Aemond licked his lips as you and the man expectantly looked at him, waiting for his response. “The cream, wife,” He answered, urging himself not to stutter as he was finding it harder to breathe with each moment of your pretense. “Very well, if my husband says to pick the cream, then I shall wear a cream-colored gown,” You smiled further and returned to the seamstress, giving her the preferred fabric of Ser Aemond. 

When it was time to settle the payment, Aemond stood beside you by the counter. “Could it be finished by the morning after next? We could pay more,” You say, and the seamstress eagerly nodded. “Of course, and what name should we place when it is collected?” She questioned, making Ser Aemond nervous, for he himself could not think of a pretend name. “Seraphina,” You pretended, and Aemond hindered his confusion to show how effortlessly you thought of a name. 

When you exited the shop, Aemond could not restrain himself to ask the question in his mind. “Where did that name come from?” He questioned, confusing you for a moment. “Seraphina?” You asked as you two walked arm in arm to the outskirts of town where the royal wheelhouse waited. Ameond nodded, and you shrugged, “I’ve read it from a book before, and truthfully, that is the name I would want for my daughter if I ever have one,” You say, taking another whiff of the bouquet Ser Aemond bought for you. “Our daughter, you mean?” He asked, gathering the courage to join you in your pretense fully. Your eyes widened, and a laugh escaped your lips as you tore away your knight’s armor— a rare grin on his thin lips that made your heart beat faster. “Yes, of course,” You laughed, still keeping up with the charade that was wholly easy to do.

When the ball commenced, Aemond was no longer glued by your side but rather at his true place, which was by the distance— a mere knight guarding his princess. He stood by a pillar a few yards away from you, but he could still hear your voice, listening to your conversations. “Look, Lord Arthur is to approach— sister, your cheeks are already blushing!” Your brother laughed, making you roll your eyes and pinch his side. In truth, a blush no longer crept up to your cheeks, not even when Lord Arthur invited you to dance or when he placed a kiss on your knuckles. 

Aemond stood on his post with his jaw gritted tightly, and his hand clenched around the hilt of his sword. The lord pulled you flush to him, and the song began. He watched you dance around with the lord with the gown he had helped pick and with the flowers he bought for you, adoring your hair— his mind straying to the afternoon where you and he were husband and wife to sedate his mind and preoccupy him from the truth that a mere knight like him would never deserve a princess. 

Taglist: @anukulee @ladyriverasafespace @rebeccawinters @gayfiretruck @bellarkeselection @eraenaa

[my-great-big-book-of-fan-fiction]

Hi hi! I hope you're doing well, Lovely, your works are just... UGH‼️ I need them in my VEINS, IMMEDIATELY. You write L so well, I love your fics so much!!

Anywhooo...I've never requested anything before, and I could find a rules post from you about requests, so I don't know if I'm doing this right or anything. I'm so sorry if I do this wrong 😭😭

ANYWAY, Om to the request 😋, I was thinking, you know how when people get mad in fights and give the other person the silent treatment? Wellll, I was wondering how Yan!L would react to that, the reader refusing to acknowledge his presence.

Hope this was okay, and don't forget to eat and drink and all that good stuff!! We love you!! <3

Hii!! Tysm for the request, I should really put up some rules so it's easier for people to ask 😅 this one's short, but I hope you enjoy anyway!

it's been two weeks.

He thought this was a little tiff, nothing serious, but you haven't spoken to him in two weeks.

He really did hurt your feelings, didn't he?

He could make you sit with him, make you lay with him, make you eat with him, but he couldn't make you speak to him.

All because he said he didn't love you.

He doesn't know why he said it. He supposed...he didn't want you to get so comfortable. This method works for him, usually. He strings you along with a lack of affection, and then smothers you with it before you question your purpose with him in the first place.

This time, you had come up behind him when he was working, and hugged his shoulders. "You love me, don't you," you had asked.

he was feeling playful. Or...mean. Or maybe he was annoyed at the interruption. In any case, he had said, "love is a heavy word."

He only wanted to play semantics. He only wanted to pick on you.

You frowned, and stood upright. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Mn...To say I love you would be to say I cannot live without you."

you came around the side of the couch, and stood before him. "You...have to love me," you urged.

"I don't have to do anything."

"But you have to do this. You have to-" you were interrupted by the tears welling in your eyes, by the hiccuping in your throat.

He should have stopped when he saw your lip quiver, and your nose twitch. But you hardly ever argue with him...and he wanted to see how far you would go.

"And what would you do if didn't? What could you possibly say to me that would make me do something I don't want to do?"

You sniffled. "You have to love me. If you don't love me, it- it means that everything was for nothing-"

"Everything? Everything that I...provide for you?"

"No! Everything that you-"

That he did.

He could see the pain on your face. The pain of remembering. You turned, and stormed off to the bedroom.

He didn't chase you. He didn't call out to you.

I'm sorry.

I love you.

Forgive me.

He just kept working.

and so, here you were. Seated across from him, picking at a ham sandwich. Your eyes were puffy and red. Your nose was dripping. You looked tired, drained from crying.

"...did you do anything interesting today?"

No answer.

"I found a very compelling lead in my case."

Not a word.

"With any luck, I may be done by the end of the month."

It was like talking to himself.

You were making him lose his appetite, of all things. He thought continuing as usual would snap you out of this. That you would cave, give him an empty "that's nice, dear" and move on with your life. But you just swallowed another sob, and stood to throw out your food.

"...we could...take a trip to Greece." You've mentioned wanting to see the beaches.

you walked back into the bedroom.

He poked at his slice of cake. This wasn't fun at all. He liked to play games with you, but this...this was just sad.

He tossed his cake as well, and followed you. By the time he reached the bedroom, you were already curled on your side, back to the door.

He perched at the edge, and reached to pet your hair. You didn't move, not to shy away or lean into his touch.

"I'm...aware of how you feel."

you couldn't grace him with a look in his direction. He laid down beside you, pressed into your back, and sighed.

"Would you like to go to Greece?" His voice was small. Gentle.

You shiver, and he draws up the blanket. "We could go by the end of this week. I wouldn't mind flying out earlier than anticipated."

His hands slide around your waist, pulling you closer, but you're as inviting as a dead body. A ragdoll to toss around. He's broken you like this before, in cells for weeks at a time, but never with his words. Before, those were punishments for attempts at escape. This was a mistake on his part. He was cruel to you, for no reason.

"I realize I've made a mistake."

At your lack of response, he presses his nose to the nape of your neck. "Tell me how to fix this."

You shake your head. You didn't need to tell him.

He knows.

"...I do. And I'm...sorry. For insinuating I don't."

.

.

.

"Do what," you croak.

He closes his eyes.

"I do love you. So much so that I-" he takes a deep breath- "I cannot live without you."

You turn in his arms. He finds his face now pressed to your clavicle. "Take me to greece."

"Okay."

"Tell me you love me again."

"...I love you."

You close your eyes, too. It all made sense again. Everything...made sense again.

[lalal-99]

Sweet Thing {s.c.}

9 “ That feels good…” 14 “Spread your legs, sweet thing.” 33 “Please, just let me come!"

Changbin x afab!reader | trope: strangers to lovers, regular hookup turns serious | smut | wordcount: 1.8k

Synopsis: You know nothing about the hot guy you've been hooking up with for months. You're not even sure about his name. Obviously, you need to change that. In the middle of sex is probably not the right time, but so what?!

Warnings: explicit content | dni if your under 18

Smut Tags: Porn with Plot | Explicit Sexual Content | Making Out | Hook-up in Bathroom | Bathroom Sex | Fingering (reader rec.) | Oral (reader rec.) | Edging | Overstimulation | Teasing | Some Dirty Talk | Slight Praise Kink | Dom/Sub Undertones (Dom!Changbin) | Mirror Sex

Note: Well, I don't know what to say for myself. The prompt event happened in March/April 2022. And here I am, 2 years later. Some requested prompts are still in my inbox, and I do think I will write something for each eventually. For now, please enjoy this one :) Also, thanks @jl-micasea-fics for letting me use your prompts. I know it's been two years, but still, credit where its due ;)

Taglist: @skzho @bubblelixie @flakywig @itsallaboutkey @avyskai @mekuiikore @changbiddies0325 @knowleeknow @sensitiveandhungry @svintsandghosts @poutypoutybin @hyunjinswifeee @sunlitwilderness

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Please don't flag as mature or repost this story - Thank You!

“Spread your legs, sweet thing.”

Against every fibre in your body, you disobey and further the distance to the unbelievably attractive man instead. Much to his dismay.

“Hey,” he tilts your gaze towards himself by the touch of your jaw. A sweet gesture, seeing you were heavily making out seconds before. “What’s going on?”

Hidden away in the small bathroom of your favourite bar, you find yourself perched on the counter. Most definitely the product of the alcohol intoxicating your system.

“Sorry—” you excuse yourself, wiping your hands down the sides of face. “I’m good. Let’s keep going.”

Expecting him to continue where you had left of, you’re surprised to find him leaning against the wall. “Not until you tell me what’s going on in that stunning head of yours.”

A light blush spreads over your cheeks towards your ears and your lip wanders between your teeth. Because the reason for your distraction is so stupid.

“It’s just, we’ve been doing this for a while.” Hooking up at this very bar every weekend for the past few months. For the life of you, you can’t remember how it even started. Possibly with a conversation and his hand on your thigh. Probably with a few shots while celebrating your birthday. “And I don’t know anything about you.”

“Which hasn’t been a problem until now. So, where’s this coming from?”

The first few times were fun. Hooking up in the bathroom, words limited to the absolute necessary. If anything, it made it even hotter. Being with a stranger whose name you hardly remember. But then the comments started. You don’t know which of your friend was the first to say something. It might have been Seungmin, questioning how you could keep hooking up weekly without knowing the first thing about him.

And now you can’t shake the comment out of you if you try. The voice is a constant tenant of your metaphorical head-apartment. Living rent-free.

“My friends. They’ve been asking questions about you. None of which I can answer.” Which is stupid, because it shouldn’t matter. What matters is the incredibly handsome and muscular guy in front of you. Changbin— you think.

You’re surprised when he doesn’t laugh at or dismiss their concern. “Okay, then. Let’s do it.”

Cocking an eyebrow, you look down at his hands as they begin travelling up your thighs again. Leaving goosebumps as they burn into your skin.

“Do what?”

“Get to know each other. Might as well play 21 questions while we’re at it.”

His lips brush against your jaw before he urges them against your neck. Checking the quickening of your pulse as he licks at the veins.

“Come on. Hit me.”

But you can’t think. His touches are a true distraction, moans tumbling out of your mouth as you finally spread your legs for him. He slots between them, fitting like the last piece of a puzzle.

“You do know how 21 questions works, right?”

His hands grope at your flesh, pulling you closer until you can feel him against your most sensitive part. Why’d you have to speak up? He could have been inside you by now, but you had to open your stupid mouth.

“Yeah— Just— Can’t think.”

“Fine,” he gives in, pulling at your lip as he kisses you. You’re so hot, you wonder whether you’re nursing a fever. “I’ll tell you three things about me, then. Speed things up. ‘S that alright?”

“Please.” You’re begging now, nails digging into the skin of his bulky arms as he’s dragging his clothed crotch against you. “Feels so good.”

“First one.” Changbin pulls your top up over your breasts, freeing your bra. His thick fingers brush against your nipples, forcing a shudder through your body. “I go to the gym five times a week.”

“Obvious—ngh,” you agree turns into a throaty moan as he nibbles at your left breast. Your panties soaked already as you mumble into the night. “Deeper.”

“I’m not even inside you yet.” His chuckle vibrates through your torso. Then he grazes his teeth against your second nipple, and you might as well have lost your head.

“No. Tell me— fuck— tell something deeper. Something not— not everyone knows.”

You’re entering heaven when his hand wanders down your side and towards the hem of your skirt. It wiggles below the fabric, setting flames to your loins. You’re burning from the inside out as this stranger handles your body like he created it himself. Knows how to make you go absolutely insane. And that’s with his clothes still on.

“I call my mom every day.” That definitely fits the category of deep talk. Although, the thought of Changbin’s mother doesn’t exactly fit the moment. “Number three, I’d like to take you out one of these days.”

When the tip of his thumb reaches for your clit, you see the realisation hit his features in real time. You’ve ruined your panties and he can feel it. He has ruined you, and he can see it. From your rolled-back eyes to your tossed-back head. You’re in absolute ecstasy.

Changbin thumbs at your nub, drawing circles with your own wetness. Smirking with pride like a lunatic.

“Your turn, sweet thing. Three things about you, then you get to come.”

No words describe the hatred you feel for yourself when you realise he’s serious. The trajectory of earning your orgasm is as much arousing as it is frustrating. If only you hadn’t said a thing.

“I’m—” You tumble forward as his middle finger enters you. And him? He cocks his head at you, playing confused.

“Sorry? I don’t understand you. Can you speak up?”

Asshole.

“Music,” you mumble, breathless. “I like music. Listening. Making.”

“That’s one. You’re doing so good for me.” A kiss swallows the whine as he enters another finger. Your walls are clenching around him as his thumb practically attacks your clit. It feels so good, but it’s not enough and Changbin knows. “I tell you what. Give me a second, and I’ll give you a third. Sound good?”

You nod, frantic, needing—nay, craving—another one of his fingers.

“I’m good— good at— oh, God.” Hands are clawing at his shirt, the black and red fabric almost ripping from the strength he ignites in you. Your stomach is tensing tight, and he slows down. It’s an alarming promise, Changbin threatening to leave you high and dry if you don’t give him another one. A second fact about yourself. “Maths. I’m good at maths.”

You’re all but howling when he enters a third finger and curls them up against your spot. That’s when you loose the rest of control over your body. None of your movements are under your own command anymore, Changbin’s the sole reason you’re even still sitting upright.

“That’s two. I thought you were good at maths. You’re one short of earning my mouth, sweet thing.”

The promise alone almost makes you fall of the edge. His mouth on you. Coaxing you to your sweet, sweet release. It’s not far, but Changbin is the only one who can make you reach it. You don’t doubt he’ll leave you on the edge if you don’t give him a third fact.

It’s unfortunate that you can’t form coherent sentences anymore. Let alone think of a third fact about yourself. Absolutely pathetic.

“Please—” Swallowing the lump in your throat, you stare up at him, begging, pleading. “Please, just let me come.”

“Nuh-uh,” he teases with a smirk. A soft kiss hits your nose, then your lips. “That’s not a fact, sweet thing. Don’t you want to come on my tongue?”

Again, the thought alone has you clenching on his fingers. You’re so full, so close, and yet, can’t think of anything.

Maybe if you copy one of his facts, he won’t notice, right? But what was it he said? Oh, right. Gym, mom, date. But, you don’t go to the gym and you don’t talk to your mom daily.

“So, what is it?”

“Date!” you blurt out and he looks confused. “Take me out.” But that’s a prompt, not a fact, so you correct even further, teetering on the edge of heaven and hell. “I’d like it, I mean.”

Changbin debates for a second whether your words count as a fact. You can tell he wants to tease you some more, relishes in it. Thank God, he decides against it.

A sigh of relief escapes you when he finally leans down, pushes your skirt up and connects his lips to yours. And that’s all it takes.

One second his tongue prods against your clit, the next you’re coming on it.

And come, you do. You’re sure you’re squirting all over his face as he swallows up every bit of your release. Cleans you with his mouth until you’re glistening in spit and overstimulation. It doesn’t seem he wants to leave the space between your thighs and you have to drag him away when it becomes too much.

“Sweet, sweet thing,” he teases with a smile when he comes up, licking his lips. His hair is a mess, likely from your hands tugging at the strands and he looks like sex-on-legs. Cheeks dark pink, lips just as, and eyes blurry from arousal. He’s so, so hot, and you’re heating up again already as he’s kissing your lips with pure passion. “So, about that date…”

“Name a place and a time. I’ll be there.”

He chuckles, pulling you from the counter and turning you around. You will never tire from him, treating you like a doll. Bending and breaking you as he pleases. Those damn muscles flex as his arms wrap around your body and he pushes you up against the sink.

“We’ll get there. In fact…” he pulls your skirt over your asscheeks, giving them a delicious squeeze as he hums. Next thing you know, he frees his cock, reaching into his jeans to pull out a condom. And you wonder how Changbin is still so hot while wrapping himself in the latex. “How about you come three more times.”

You gulp at the thought, finding him in the mirror.

“One for a time and one for a place.”

That’s only two. You’re good at maths, or at least you think you are. Changbin might have fucked that brain right out of you.

“And the last one— one— fuck, you’re tight,” he praises as he enters you from behind.

Once he bottoms out, he collects himself, flicking your nipples as he watches you through the glass. And yet again, you’re a chaotic mess in his hands. With your head thrown back against his chest, you’re sent straight back to your own personal nirvana.

That’s when Changbin finishes his prior statement, a proud smirk glued to his face. “The last one’s simply for good measure.”

Masterlist Leave your thoughts!

[cherry-jamm]

Just not him

・❥・ Your situationship doesn’t like that you were seen with another man

・❥・word count: 1.2k

・❥・warnings: Homelander and The Deep (they’re their own warnings), fade to black smut, Homie is a little toxic, supe!reader

・❥・I don't write smut because I'm not good at it, but I'm not good at it because I don't write it, a viscous cycle.

Also sorry if this doesn't make much sense I was in and out of consciousness while writing 😝

"No. No way am I doing that."

"(Y/n), your sexuality is part of your brand. May I remind you your approval rates are going down by the minute." Madelyn sighs.

"Yeah, I get that, but you expect me to go out there and flirt with The Deep? I'd be making a fool of myself." Your cheeks are hot as you try to defend yourself.

"Ah, ah, you'd be making a spectacle, and that's exactly what we need right now. Drama, scandal, rumors."

"And it has to be him?" You deadpanned. "It can't be anyone else? What about Homelander?" You felt yourself becoming desperate.

“Homelander? And you?” A smile breaks out on her face, but she tries to hide it. “I don’t mean any offense, but you two aren’t an ideal pair up.” She talks to you like you’re a child. You fight the urge to tell her that you and Homelander are actually a very good pair. “Anyways, recently you and The Deep have been trending, as a couple.” You scoff.

Recently on a podcast with some man you’re sure is very popular in a different crowd, The Deep confessed that he found you to be the most attractive member of The Seven. Ever since then a burst of videos were posted of cute moments between the two of you, which turned into edits, which turned into fan art, which turned into fanfiction. You fought the urge to gag, who even makes that stuff? From a marketing perspective, it made for great business, a romance angle brought new eyes to the scene. To you, it was demeaning.

“Fine. But I’m not going to take this any further than a few flirtatious remarks at tomorrow’s gala.” You remind yourself it’s not good to anger someone like Madelyn, she’s scarier than she lets on. Madelyn nods and you walk out of her office, much more embarrassed than you were when you entered. As you stormed down the hallway to the safety of your own home, none other than The Deep greeted you.

Speak of the devil and he shall arrive.

“Hey! How are you doing today, cutie?” He starts. He practically salivates as he walks beside you. You feel like you’re gonna be sick.

“I’m not in the mood right now.”

“C’mon, why don’t you let me take you out for a drink or two? We’re supposed to be all over each other tom-“

“Not in the mood!” You cut him off. Your walking increases to practically sprinting until you reach your home. You slam the door shut behind you. You shrugged off your clothes and crawled into bed. No way in hell were you getting out of bed until the last possible minute.

You stood, still as a statue. You wore a deep purple outfit. The silks enveloped your body in a sexy, yet elegant way. You had never felt more bored in your life. The Deep had his hand positioned on your lower back, where it had been all night. You had already talked to everyone important, you made sure the photographers got enough shots of you coquettishly whispering in The Deep’s ear, or leaning on him while being in conversation. You had taken notice to the fact that Homelander had yet to arrive. The gala would be ending soon, and without an appearance from the leader of The Seven himself. His absence further ruined your mood.

You and Homelander were in a bit of a situationship. There was no official label for your relationship. He’d come to your house just to sleep with you one day, then act like you two were strangers the next. You had learned to accept that nothing serious would come from the relationship. But there was still a part of you that wished he had come tonight.

“(Y/n), big smiles.” The Deep reminded. “Why do you look so fucking depressed?” His voice was low enough that it would look like casual banter to any outsider. His hold on the small of your back grew tight.

“Back off and mind your own business.” You said through gritted teeth. You forced a coy smile and blush onto your face as if he had just said something really flustering to you.

“Hey you two!” You felt your brows furrow. Sometime between two minutes ago, when you last scanned the room, and now Homelander had entered, and without you noticing. Your fake smile melted into a real one.

“Homelander.” You greeted. The Deep pulled you in impossibly closer. He didn’t say anything, just nodded. You had a feeling he was scared of Homelander.

“Do you mind if I borrow them?” Homelander asked The Deep. All of you knew it wasn’t a question, just a thinly veiled demand. “You seem to have them chained down.” He laughed, referring to the vice grip currently on your back. After a second the hold was gone, The Deep had already walked off to get himself another drink.

It was just you and Homelander now. He moved close to you to whisper in your ear.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He asked with a plastic smile. You felt your stomach drop.

“My job.” You shot back with an equally fake smile. You watched as his cheeks turned red with anger.

“No.” He grabbed your wrist. “We’re leaving.” You planted your feet in the ground.

“Excuse you?”

“I said, we’re leaving.” He hissed.

“They’ll have my head if I’m seen leaving with you.”

“They can fucking suck it up. I’m The Homelander. I get who I want, when I want. We’re leaving.” He dragged you by the wrist to pull you out the back doors. You were acutely aware that all the photographers turned away their cameras after seeing the expression on Homelander’s face.

The cold night air curled around your exposed skin, but you had no time to even breathe it in before your head hit the wall behind you and Homelander’s lips were on yours. His hands gripped your waist as he pulled you closer to him. You push him away, sucking in deep breaths.

“What’s gotten into you? Why are you acting like this?” You ask breathlessly. You can’t say you don’t enjoy this possessiveness, but he’s never made such a scene for you before, especially in public. He doesn’t answer before pulling you back into another hungry kiss.

He pulls away, his breath hot against your neck. “You’re mine. All fucking mine. No one else can have you, especially not that fucker Deep.” He pants. His grip tightened in a way you’re sure would bruise if it wasn’t for your invulnerable skin. “Fucking say it. Say that you’re mine.” A tone of pathetic desperation creeps into his voice. You smile and curl your fingers in his hair.

You wish Madelyn could see you now. Not a good pair, as if.

“I’m yours, Homelander.” You assure him. He whines against your collarbone. You’re sure tomorrow he’ll go back to pretending none of this happened, but for now you revel in his attention. “Why don’t you show them that I belong to you?”

It’s so petty, just a cheap way to stick it in Madelyn’s face. Homelander grins as he tries to suck a hickey on your neck. Both of your smiles quickly faded at the realization that there’s no way to bruise invincible skin. “Shit.” You cursed under your breath. Homelander looked up at you with his big blue eyes. You run your fingers through his hair.

“I’m sure you could show them in a different way.” You smirked.

[writeforfandoms]

Take A Chance On Me

I had the itch to write post-canon Ezra. And I'd been thinking about dragons. Because we always need more dragons.

Warnings: Swearing, mystery, dragon hatching, metaphorical leap of faith, time skip.

Word count: 5.3k

You'd owned your bakery for a long time. Long enough that you knew all your regulars, knew the businesses around you. Knew who to talk to when someone came around trying to make trouble. Knew where to get the best ingredients to make soup when someone was feeling poorly. 

So of course you noticed when the bookshop opened. 

The new place opened on the corner - a good spot, lots of foot traffic, lots of opportunity. While hardly the center of the universe, this planet boasted plenty of tourism, with long golden days and easy nights. 

You'd be surprised nobody had opened a bookstore earlier, except for the fact that books came and went in popularity. 

You'd have to keep an eye on this place. See if it lasted. 

The nice thing about owning your own bakery was the stability. Your life never varied much. You got to the shop early every day, had the first pastries ready for the early crews. Kept putting out new items through the day, to keep the workers and tourists alike happy. You closed when things got quiet, or read at the counter for a couple hours, whatever felt better that day. 

But it did make for a rather lonely life. 

You didn't think much of it the first time a blonde teen came in and bought a few things. She didn't smile, but she did thank you. 

Life kept on, as it had for a long time, as it would for longer. 

At least, you assumed it would keep on the same way it had been. 

Except that two things happened. 

The first was a gift, from a long time regular. Stryker had been one of your first true regulars, always spared some time to chat with you, had taste tested every new item on your menu. 

His smile as he handed over the box to you was sad, bittersweet. Wrinkled hands captured yours once you had the box securely in your grip. 

“You take care of that, now,” he said, eyes as bright as the noon sky holding yours. “Promise me.”

“I'll take care of it,” you agreed, confused but willing to agree. “I promise.”

His grip relaxed and he nodded. “Good. Good. Always been a good one, you have.” He smiled again, swallowing once. “Take care of yourself, too, y'hear?”

“I will.” The sudden foreboding tightened your throat, and your hands gripped the box even tighter. “You too, okay?”

He just nodded at you, slow and solemn, and took a step back. He turned and walked away, hesitating for a moment on the threshold. You thought you saw his shoulders hitch. 

You never saw him again. 

The box contained a weird egg-shaped thing. The surface of it was rough under your fingers, not unlike exposed rock, and ranged from sandy to dirty. It was, however, clean, leaving no traces in the box or on your fingers. 

Honestly, you had no idea what to do with it. So you left it in the box in your bedroom. 

The second thing was another newcomer. He wouldn't have been all that interesting on his own, although he was quite good-looking. The little blonde streak in his hair especially caught your eye as it shone in the light coming in the window. 

“Cee told me she got pastries here the other day,” he started, gaze flicking greedily around the case. “I tried one, haven't tasted anything so good in years. As soon as I wrested the location from her, I knew I simply had to come for myself.” 

“Cee?” You couldn't help but smile at the sheer flow of words, a little charmed. 

“My ward. Blonde girl, too serious for her own good, quiet until you get to know her.” He darted a smile at you, looked back to the case, and then looked back to you. 

“Ah, I remember her. She shared with you?” You resisted the urge to grab a box, although he looked like a man who would get more than one pastry. 

“She did, with much persuading and wheedling.” He didn't look back at the pastries this time. 

“Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it enough to come in.” You smiled pleasantly, though you also didn't look back at the cases. There was something about his gaze, something magnetic. 

“Oh, if the rest of these are as good as the first I had, I suspect I shall be back as often as I can manage.” His smile kicked up a notch, from friendly to flirty, even as his gaze warmed. 

You warmed too, undeniably flattered but unwilling to make it so easy for him. “Well, then, what do you want to try today?”

He finally looked away from you, fingers of one hand drumming against his thigh as he debated. You finally noticed the pinned back sleeve on his other arm, and decided not to comment.

Plenty of jobs in the galaxy ended up being dangerous. 

“I fear you have too tempting a selection,” he said, looking back to you. “Perhaps you could choose for me? Four of your most popular.” 

You considered him for a moment, head tipping a little to one side. Then you nodded and unfolded a box. 

He wanted a surprise, huh? Half and half it would be.

You grabbed two sweet pastries and two savory for him. It was perhaps a gamble - most people were surprised by the savories the first time, but they were extremely popular around lunch time. 

“See how you like these.” You put the box on top of the case between you two, a little startled to find he was watching you, brown eyes assessing. 

“I'm sure I will enjoy every one of these.” He winked at you. “Now, how much do I owe you?” 

You told him, knocking off a couple credits just because you liked him. 

He paid and took his box, holding it carefully to avoid crushing any pastries inside. 

“Just in case chatter hasn't yet gotten here,” he started, pausing by the door to look back at you, “I own the bookshop down on the corner. Come by any time, don't be a stranger.” He tipped the box to you in salute before he left. 

You hummed softly, leaning one hip against the case. So. He was the owner of the bookshop. 

Intriguing. Perhaps you would have to go pay that place a visit. 

You turned off the lights for the night, locking up the shop. Even with the ovens off for the night, the shop kept warm. When the weather warmed again, you'd need to keep the door open so your customers wouldn't complain of the heat. 

You patted the strange egg thing on your way to bed. The bumps and scratches against your skin felt the same as always, and you thought nothing more of it. 

You didn't think anything more of it for days, really. You had other things on your mind. 

Like the bookshop, and the handsome man who owned it. 

You'd met many people in your time here. None of them quite as intriguing as Ezra. 

There was just something about him. Something almost magnetic. More than just the intrigue of a new face, and new shop owner. 

Maybe you'd close up early one day and go investigate. One day soon. 

It had been a while since you'd had new reading material just for fun. 

Any thoughts of pleasure reading vanished when you went up to bed that night. 

The egg shook under your hand. Just a little. Not enough that hatching seemed imminent, but you still paused. 

That… was unexpected. 

It trembled again, less energetically this time. Hopefully that didn't mean anything bad. 

Just in case, you brought the egg next to your bed, hoping you'd wake if anything happened. 

It took a long time to get to sleep, and staying asleep proved impossible. 

But the egg didn't crack open overnight. Neither did it seem to die, still warm when you touched it that morning. 

Just in case, you carried it with you to the shop. 

But it didn't move all day. Didn't stir. It didn't fade, either, still warm and rough under your fingers when you checked. 

You had absolutely no idea what to do. 

“You are a mystery,” you muttered to the egg, unsure what else to do. “I don't know what to do with you. Why did Stryker give you to me?” 

The egg didn't respond, which was good, because a response would have been much worse. 

You did finally think about where you could find out more about eggs. 

Books. Of course. 

Sometimes you were a fucking idiot.

Still paranoid that something would happen to the egg while you weren't watching, you found an old pack to carry with you, stuffing the egg inside with a sweater for some padding. 

And then you locked up and headed for the bookstore, still cursing yourself for an idiot. 

A bell over the door jingled softly as you let yourself in, and you paused for a moment to take in the space. The smell of books, paper and ink and age, filled the space, different from your own shop but still nice. Shelves filled the walls and took up a fair bit of the open space throughout the shop, creating little nooks and cubbies hidden away from the world.

Which you discovered a half dozen steps into the shop. Cee sat on a cozy recliner, afternoon sunlight streaming in the windows next to her, turning the entire space orange-gold. Her hair fell around her face, one knee up to help brace the spine of the book in her hands. You vaguely recognized the cover - some story popular with the younger crowd, part of a series, if you recalled correctly. You'd heard customers talking about the books before. 

You didn't disturb her, leaving her to her reading as you ventured further into the shop. The egg rustling against your back reminded you of your purpose, giving you a much-needed kick in the rear. 

No more distractions. You needed to find any books on husbandry and creatures you could. 

Naturally, you ran straight into Ezra, almost literally. 

He blinked, startled, and then smiled. “Well, I must admit I hadn't expected to see you so soon! What brings you in today? Anything I can help you find?” 

You smiled, a little nervous, a little awkward. “I'm just kinda looking,” you hedged, shifting your weight. For all that you liked Ezra, you didn't know if you trusted him yet. 

“For fun or for a purpose?” He didn't press any closer, simply waiting for you with a small smile on his lips, and curious eyes. 

“Trying to look up some stuff about animals.” There, that was safe enough. 

His eyebrows raised but he half turned, motioning you to follow. “Thinking of keeping a pet? I'll admit Cee has been asking after one for the shop, though I am not convinced.”

Your smile felt very awkward, especially when the egg wiggled against your back. “Yeah, the thought has crossed my mind,” you lied. “Figured I'd do some research.”

“A very sensible approach,” he agreed, turning down an aisle, bookcases obscuring your view of the rest of the shop. You couldn't even hear the outside now, the world muffled and far away in the confines of the shop. “Here we are. I admit it is not the biggest section, but there's not been much call for it as of yet.” 

“I'm sure it will be a good starting point,” you said, stepping closer to the shelves to start looking at the titles. “Thanks.” 

Ezra nodded, though he lingered for a few moments. Then he smiled. “Holler if you need anything,” he said, stepping back away from you. 

You nodded, watching him go until he turned a corner and vanished into the depths of the store. You turned back to the books, taking a deep breath to brace yourself. 

You ended up sitting on the floor, a small stack of books next to you, flipping through pages trying to find anything that matched the description of your egg. 

So far, nothing matched. Nothing even came close, between the size and the texture. 

You dropped your head with a soft groan, pushing back to your feet to put books back away. Nothing had helped you, and the egg still shook in your backpack, more vigorous now. 

That made you nervous. You did not want it to hatch. You really were not prepared. At all. 

“Are you finding anything useful?” 

You jumped, nearly dropping the couple books still in your hands. It took a few moments of fumbling to right everything, yourself included. 

“I apologize,” Ezra said, hand extended and hovering near your elbow in case you needed help. “I didn't realize you were so deep in your research.”

“It's fine,” you said, heart still hammering away in your chest. “I just didn't hear you coming.”

“Happens often here,” he said with a rather wry smile. “The number of times Cee has snuck up on me is, frankly, appalling.” 

You managed a little laugh, putting the last couple books away before anything else could happen to them. “I'm not surprised. Easy to get distracted in here.” 

“It is indeed.” He eyed your empty hands, his own falling back to his side. “Haven't found what you need yet?” 

“No.” You sighed. “Not yet.” 

“I could help you search?” He watched you as he offered, curious and hopeful.

You paused, uncertain if you should take him up on his offer, not sure if you could trust him. 

The egg made the decision for you. It rocked violently, the crack audible even through the sweater packed around it. 

You both paused, and you swallowed. 

“Are you sure I cannot help you with something?” He shifted closer, watching you carefully now. 

“I suppose that depends.” You carefully removed your backpack, shifting it around to your front. 

“On?” 

“If I can trust you to keep a secret.” 

He considered you for a moment, apparently thinking through something. Then he nodded. “I find myself enjoying life here, and unwilling to risk it. I will keep your secrets.” 

You opened your backpack, the egg inside cracked straight down the middle, both sides moving as the thing inside tried to break free. The constrained space inside the backpack made it harder, the cracks slowly spreading.

Ezra hissed out a breath, chancing a quick glance around. “Close that,” he said, quiet but urgent. “We need to go somewhere more private for this.”

“Do you know what it is?” You closed the backpack again, following Ezra as he wound through the stacks and to the back. He held open the door for you, ushering you further into the room, cramped with stacks of extra books and a small table. 

“I have a suspicion,” Ezra admitted, clearing a few papers off the table with quick motions. “But I cannot say for certain until we've seen what exactly emerges from this shell.” 

You set your backpack on the table and carefully pulled the egg out, still packaged snugly in your sweater. No sooner had you put the whole little nest down on the table than the egg split, half of it falling away. 

Big garnet-red eyes blinked up at you, the skin colored the same as the egg. It uncurled slowly, stretching out stubby legs. It chirruped at you, soft and cute even though it was still damp from hatching. 

And you had no idea what it was. 

“Kevva,” Ezra muttered next to you, awed and cursing both. 

“You know what this is?” You half-turned to look at him. 

“I've never seen one,” he said, gaze still fixed on the thing. “Heard stories though, from other prospectors, other travelers.”

“And?” You frowned at him. You wouldn't have guessed he was a prospector, but it did make sense. That could be a very dangerous job, from what you understood. 

“It’s a dragon.”

“What?” This time, the word was breathed, soft and disbelieving. 

“It must be,” he continued, his hand slowly moving towards the hatchling, though he paused when it made a less than happy sound. “I've heard tell that people can hatch ‘em, if you're lucky. Where did you get the egg?” He shot you a look, half curious, half assessing. 

“It was a gift.” You spoke through numb lips, cold with shock, even as the dragon wobbled closer to you. Clearly, coordination was not a skill baby dragons had just yet. 

“A very generous gift,” he observed, still watching you. “Not the kind of gift I'd expect of just a friend.”

You shook your head slowly. “He was a regular,” you said slowly, lifting one hand. Unlike when Ezra tried, the hatchling trilled at you and nosed into your palm. “I haven't seen him since.” 

Ezra hummed soft acknowledgement of that, watching you and the hatchling. “It’ll need food,” he said, changing the subject. “I do believe I have some suitable fare in my kitchen, if you can wait.” 

You blinked, thrown by the change in subject, but nodded. He slipped out quietly, the door clicking shut after him. 

“Where did you even come from?” You asked the hatchling, not expecting an answer. 

The hatchling chirruped and cuddled closer to you. You wrapped your now-ruined sweater around it, trying to keep it warm. 

Ezra reappeared with a bowl of sliced meat, setting it down next to you and the hatchling. “Watch your fingers,” he advised. “Most things have sharp teeth. Even babies.” 

You nodded your thanks to him, feeding bits carefully to the baby, who ate ravenously. 

“Thank you for all your help,” you told him in between feeding the hatchling. “I don't know what I would have done on my own.” 

He shot you a quick smile. “I am happy to help, although I do wonder at your willingness to trust someone you hardly know.” 

You snorted softly. “Well, for one, the timing was awful. Didn't leave me a lot of choice,” you grumbled, albeit half-heartedly. This went deeper than just the timing, and you had a feeling he knew it too. Especially since he stayed quiet, waiting you out. “I just… had a feeling. About you.” Your cautious glance at him revealed only that he was still watching you. 

He let the silence linger another beat, two. Then he spoke softly. “I would say that trusting your gut, while often a good start, is not the only course of action you should take. However, in this particular case, it has not led you astray. I told you earlier that I enjoy this life, and I didn't lie. I've no wish to ruin things for myself, or for Cee. Your secrets are safe with me.” 

“Thank you.” You smiled at him, warmed by his honesty. You did startle a little when the hatchling pushed into your midsection, apparently not content with the nest. It didn't stop nudging you until you picked it up and held it close, and then it finally relaxed with a happy little meep. 

The two of you stood quietly for a few moments, both looking at the dragon. You had no idea what to do next, too overwhelmed to think properly. Ezra… you couldn't guess at what he thought. 

“I need to close up the shop,” he said finally, shifting his weight. “Give me a few minutes, if you will, and I'll happily escort both you and your little companion home.” 

“You don't have to,” you demurred, though the offer pleased you. 

“Always happy to help a friend.” He winked at you and slipped out of the room again. 

Friend. You liked the sound of that. 

It took a bit of doing to get the dragon back in your backpack, carefully hidden away. She chirruped but settled down again, hopefully to take a nap. You hoped she would at least stay quiet. 

“Cee is upstairs for the moment,” Ezra told you as he opened the door for you. “The route is clear for us to avoid any pesky questions.” 

“Are you calling Cee pesky?” You smiled though to reassure him you were only teasing. 

“Oh she is much more than pesky,” he replied cheerfully, expertly herding you out the front door. “She is smart, perceptive. Good memory. Not much for talking, though, unless you happen to engage her about one of her stories. She is absolutely a menace.” 

You laughed at not only the joy but pride in his voice. “You care for her a great deal.” 

“We have been through a lot together, her and I. That is the kind of bond that does not easily dissipate.” He shrugged with one shoulder, half-smiling. “Never would have thought of myself as the settling type, yet here I am.”

“Life has a way of changing things,” you agreed. “Hopefully for the better, overall.” 

Ezra nodded his agreement. “You sound as if you speak from experience.” 

Your smile turned wry, a little sad. “I didn't always run the bakery on my own. It's better this way.”

Ezra didn't press, simply nodded. Clearly he understood enough. 

You unlocked the door behind the bakery, which led up to your apartment. You paused for a moment, considering, before focusing on him. “Want to come up? I could use the help getting this one settled and figuring out… everything.” 

He huffed a soft laugh. “I'm glad to help,” he agreed, stepping in behind you. 

The climb up the stairs was silent save for your footsteps, and you unlocked the door to your apartment. 

You hadn't been expecting a guest, but you weren't bothered. You usually kept things fairly clear. Fortunately for you. 

“So, what do you think I'll need?” You carefully took the backpack off again, opening it to check on the hatchling. Fast asleep, body lax in sleep. 

“Someplace for it to sleep,” Ezra suggested. “It won't take long to outgrow that backpack. At least, I assume so. I'm uncertain how big exactly that little one will get.” 

“Lovely.” You sighed and set the backpack down in a chair for the moment, already thinking of what you could do. “It liked the meat, so I guess I'll need that on hand all the time.”

“Only if you don't want it finding ways to feed itself,” he said, only half-joking. 

“What else?” You planted your hands on your hips, masking how worried you were. 

“Well.” Ezra looked around your apartment, doing a slow circle to take it in. “You'll learn as it grows, I'm sure. I've heard that dragons enjoy keeping hoards, although I am uncertain what it will hoard. It may not. Haven't heard of anyone keeping a dragon in a long time. You may well be the first in this system.”

“Lovely,” you muttered under your breath, less than thrilled with the prospect. You didn't want exceptional. You liked your boring life. 

Although a sneaky part of you still whispered that someone to share your boring life with would be welcome. 

“Well, thanks. I suppose we'll see how this goes.” 

Ezra nodded, clearly taking those words as dismissal and turning for the door. 

“If you're not busy, you could stay for dinner?” You surprised yourself with the offer, but you didn't rescind it. So far, he had proven to be good company. And he had called you a friend. Even if there was nothing else there between the two of you, even if your low-simmering attraction to him amounted to nothing more, it would still be nice to have company sometimes. 

His smile warmed you through, nervous flutters taking up residence in your stomach. “That is a very fine offer,” he started, and your stomach sank. He held out his hand though, wordlessly asking you to wait. “But if I may make a counteroffer. Allow me to take you out to dinner.” 

You blinked. That. That was a step up. And it could still be a friendly overture, but maybe… “I'd like that,” you agreed. “I'd really like that.” 

He smiled, stepping closer to you. “Good, because I find I would very much like to treat you. As often as you'd let me.” 

“Let's see how this one goes first,” you said with a smile, taking a chance and holding out one hand to him. 

He took your hand, using it to tug you closer. “I have a vested interest in making sure it goes well, and I can be quite persuasive when I have a mind to.” 

You smiled. “Well, then. Sounds promising. For both of us.” 

“For both of us, huh? I like that.” He grinned. “How about we figure it out more over dinner? You can show me your favorite place.” 

“Sounds like a promising start.” You smiled in agreement, turning towards the door. The hatchling would be fine for a little while. 

This was worth taking the time.

–

You sighed, short and sharp, upon seeing the state of the back room, having just closed up the front of the bakery. A damning trail of fruit bits went from their proper storage bag, now chewed through, to Hunter's favored perching spot up atop the big stand mixer. You could even see a couple bits in the bowl of the stand mixer, which you'd have to clear out before making anything in the morning. 

Hunter herself perched on the top, tail whipping back and forth, deep green scales glinting in the light. She'd grown, but not overmuch, still able to perch across your shoulders. But you'd seen for yourself that she was a ruthless hunter, defending her territory from any intruders. 

“Hunter,” you growled, planting your hands on your hips. 

At your tone, Hunter fled, spreading her wings and jumping from the stand mixer to flap across the room to the stores of flour and sugar. She knew that she wasn't supposed to get into the fruit. 

“Don't you fly away from me,” you scolded, stomping across the room after her. She squeaked and flapped away again, this time diving past you towards the front of the shop. “Hunter!” 

She flew through the open doorway, claws clattering against the top of the display cases. You groaned, long and loud, head tipping back to glare at the ceiling. 

“Overgrown lizard,” you swore to yourself. “I could make a fair few credits selling you, you know. Or leave you to Ezra. You wouldn't like that.” 

The yearling hissed, just a little. Despite the year that had passed between her hatching and now, and the fact that she saw Ezra almost every day, she still didn't really like the former prospector. 

Which was a problem, as he had become your lover, too. 

You shook your head, frustrated but unwilling to chase Hunter around. 

“Fine, sulk in there,” you called, turning your back to the shop. “I need to clean up your mess.” 

Sure enough, you'd only been cleaning for a few minutes when Hunter flapped back into the back room, perching on your work table. 

You spared her a glance and reached over, scratching above her eye. She tipped her head into your hand with a purr, eyes sliding closed in clear pleasure. 

“You're lucky you're cute,” you said half-heartedly, ire having cooled. Now, you were simply tired. 

She chirruped and, when you paused petting her, scrambled carefully up your arm to perch on your shoulder. You snorted softly but didn't object. 

“You just get bored, huh?” You reached up one hand to pat her head. “I know. Poor thing. Maybe I'll take you over to play with Cee tonight, hmm?” 

Hunter chirruped in clear approval of that idea, claws flexing against your top. 

As soon as you had finished cleaning, you pulled out the backpack. Not the original one, but a new one you'd purchased some months ago. This one had reinforced bottom and sides to help it keep its shape. 

You'd learned quickly that Hunter didn't like to be in a soft backpack after your first one died a violent death. 

Hunter hopped into the backpack obediently, settling in as you zipped it most of the way closed, leaving only a little open at the top for her to sniff. You shouldered the backpack and locked up behind you, taking a moment to breathe in the cooler evening air. 

There was still time before Ezra would close up shop, so you detoured briefly to pick up dinner for the three of you. Carry out, from a place you'd discovered with Cee. The young woman had ended up more adventurous than you would have guessed, and had no troubles dragging you along to try every new place that opened within walking distance. 

So you knew dinner would be well received when you let yourself into the bookstore. 

Cee, ravenous youngster that she was, appeared from the aisles of books first. She liberated one of the bags of food from you with a swift kiss to your cheek and ran off for the stairs heading up to their apartment. 

Ezra was slower to appear, more leisurely. His kiss as he greeted you was more leisurely, too. 

“Only have one person left,” he murmured, his hand settling at your hip. “I shall give them another five minutes before I close up. Go on upstairs, I'll be along as soon as everything here is sorted for the night.” 

“I'll try to make sure Cee doesn't eat it all,” you agreed, smiling. “Don't be long.” You pressed one more kiss to his lips before you followed Cee.

The upstairs apartment was plenty big for the two of them, comfortable and warm now. It had taken some time for personality to pop up, but now you could see the two of them mingling in the decor. Posters and younger books favored by Cee, vistas of far away places per Ezra. It was an interesting mix, but a cozy one. 

“You're the best,” Cee told you with feeling, having already unpacked the food and hoarded away her favorite dish. “Ezra was going to make us eat the leftovers from three nights ago.”

“How awful,” you drawled, amused despite yourself. “The horrors.” 

“You know he's not the best cook,” Cee complained, sticking her fork in her food. 

“Well, you won't have to worry about it tonight.” You opened the backpack, and Hunter let herself out with a cheep, promptly scampering around the floor before hopping up on the couch, and from there to the windowsill. 

“She still getting into trouble?” Cee asked around a mouthful of food. 

“Often,” you agreed with a sigh. “She got into the dried fruits earlier. I'm hoping this is just a youngster phase, and she'll grow out of it.” 

Cee giggled, trying futilely to smother it. Your lips twitched in response and you looked down at your food. 

Hunter announced Ezra by hissing at him, back arching and wings flaring to make herself look bigger. 

“Lizard,” Ezra drawled, as he always did. 

“You're not earning yourself any points with her that way,” you pointed out, smiling. 

“Perhaps I am less concerned with earning her favor, and more concerned with keeping yours.” Ezra stooped to kiss your forehead, taking his place at your side and balancing his food expertly so he could eat one-handed. 

“Hmm. Can't tell you if that's a good choice.” You winked at him, pressing briefly into his side before you continued eating. 

Cee cleaned up after dinner without prompting, and then promptly vanished into her room. Hunter slithered in after her just before the door shut. 

“Alone at last,” Ezra joked, pulling you closer until the two of you stood pressed together. 

“For the moment,” you agreed, raising your arms to wind around his neck. “We're probably free of the kids for the evening.” 

“Stay the night?” He pressed his hand to your lower back, keeping you right where he wanted you. 

“I'll have to be up to leave early,” you warned him, not a no but just a reminder. “Very early.”

“I can return to sleep after you leave,” he said, unbothered. “I'd much rather have the extra time with you tonight.” 

You smiled at him, curling your fingers through the ends of his hair. “Then I'll stay.” Your lips pressed to his, sealing the promise. 

Just one more night of many. And many to come. 

[purplethespian]

Urgent Call to Action: Call Your Senators ASAP! (Monday June 30th, 3:30 PM Eastern Time)

The Senate is conducting its final vote on the “Big Beautiful Bill” as I type this, and we need to do what we can to let our lawmakers know that we are not okay with this bill!

The email I received from Indivisible on Thursday explains it best:

Senate Republicans want to vote on their Medicaid-slashing, billionaire-enriching reconciliation bill [today]...and that means “vote-a-rama” -- when senators can propose endless changes that their colleagues then need to vote on.

If all Republicans stick together, Democrats simply don’t have the numbers to stop the bill from passing; that’s why the GOP is using reconciliation in the first place. But that doesn’t mean Senate Democrats are powerless.

Your Democratic senators can make voting on this bill slower, more divisive, and more politically damaging than any vote these Republicans have ever taken. In fact, that’s what this moment demands of them and what we expect.

As a reminder, this bill will:

Make huge cuts to Medicaid and create new work requirements that affect who can qualify

Triple the budget for ICE

Block states’ abilities to regulate AI

Give trillions of dollars in tax cuts to the wealthy

Increase the Pentagon’s budget by $150 billion

And much, much more

So, what can you do?

First: Call or Write Your Senator

Here are two links to 5 Calls, a website that provides easy-to-follow scripts for calling your lawmakers.

Script Specifically About Cuts to Medicare and Medicaid

Script for General Opposition to the "Big Beautiful Bill"

If you are not comfortable calling your Senators, use this tool to send them an email.

If your Senator is a Republican, please please please call them and let them know how unhappy you are that your elected representative is not serving in the best interests of you and your fellow constituents. If your Senator is a Democrat, please urge them to do everything they possibly can to slow the voting process.

Second: Suggest Amendments to the Bill

Part of the "vote-a-rama" is that Senators can propose whatever amendments they want, from actual serious legislation, to random suggestions made simply for the sake of forcing proceedings to take longer. Use this tool from Indivisible to suggest amendments to Senate Democrats. My suggestion was that I think it would be fun if Senators had to wear wigs like the British parliament does. Will this actually get brought up as an amendment? I have no idea! But it gave me something to giggle about.

Third: Spread the Word!

It is vital that as many people as possible communicate with their Senators about this. We cannot let this bill get passed as-is. We cannot lie down and let the Republicans and Trump get this victory without a fight. So please: reblog this post! Share these tools with your friends and family, and encourage them to contact their Senators as soon as they can!

According to Politico, the "vote-a-rama" is expected to last into Tuesday morning. So, we still have some time to make this happen, but we need to move quickly. Please do what you can!

[so-long-soldier-writes]

The Light in My Darkness

damon salvatore x gn!reader | requested

summary: after your boyfriend's death, you fell back into old habits. now that he's back, you're having trouble kicking them again.

tags: angst, hurt / comfort, depression, s3lf h4rm, kisses

word count: 1.7k

a/n: i typically don't write for damon, however i feel comfortable writing this subject matter and i'm getting better with understanding his character. honestly, too, i rewatched s7 and i'm starting to love him even more. (i just love the traumatized characters.)

also, i'm not good at titles. my first title had the word 'put' in it, but i stared at it so long, it didn't look like a word anymore and i had to change it. i think i like this one better. i stg, titles are half the reason i take so long to post. whew, anyway... enjoy ❤️

“Stefan needs help at Whitmore,” Damon says hurriedly. He puts his phone in his back pocket and sighs. “Another Enzo situation.”

“Do you want me to come?”

“No, you stay here. I don’t want him anywhere near you, given he’s in one of his moods and would hurt you for no reason.” He gives you a quick kiss. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.”

He speeds out the door a moment later, leaving you alone in the large, empty house. You sigh. Your life is so full of supernatural drama, it’s hard to keep up. Honestly, you’re not even sure what the situation is with Enzo, or why he and Stefan hate each other so much, or how Damon knows what to do to de-escalate their arguments. Of course, Caroline debriefed you on it sometime ago, but with all the craziness happening lately, it pretty much went over your head. 

It’s been hard these last few months. Only recently had Damon returned to you from four months after being considered dead, alongside Bonnie, as the other side collapsed with him in it. Those months had been the hardest of your life, and you doubted your ability to make it through them. Losing your best friend and your boyfriend was something you never thought you’d have to endure, yet it happened. Losing them almost killed you, too. 

For three years, you were clean. You hadn’t touched a single blade since you and Damon got serious. He gave you a reason to stop without even knowing it, and with a lot of patience with yourself, you managed to kick the addiction. After he died, though, when you couldn’t bear to live without him, you picked it back up. Part of you is pissed for falling back into your old ways, but the other part has convinced yourself it’s what you need to do to survive. 

When he came back unexpectedly, you were filled with just as much panic as you were joy. You had him back, but had relapsed majorly, and now have to recount your old steps into being sober again. It hasn’t been easy. 

It’s been a couple days since your last time, and while your skin’s no longer bright and swollen, it seems to beg for your attention. You have to plan it carefully, making sure Damon will be gone long enough that he won’t sense the fresh blood. When he grabs your wrists to kiss your face, you don’t want to flinch in slight pain, or let him pick up a chance in your heartbeat. 

It’s such a complicated addiction to have when dating a vampire, yet fighting the urges are so hard, sometimes you can’t help but give into them. 

The blades in the bathroom are ready for you when you enter. A brand new pack sits in the drawer. The boys won’t miss one or two. The one time Stefan did notice, you blabbered a quick lie about needing one to scrape a bit of food dried to the stovetop. He was in such a rush that day, he didn’t catch any lie, and you were able to smile and flee the scene a moment later. Since then, you make sure to hold onto the one you have until there’s enough to not see one missing. 

With everyone seemingly involved in the Enzo situation, you don’t bother to shut the door completely before dragging the blade across your skin. The boarding house is empty, and this bathroom in particular is tucked away nicely behind the stairs. You make a few scattered cuts and watch the blood seep from them. It always seems to calm you in the most grotesque way, and, quite ironically, gives you the perfect dopamine rush that raises your spirits despite the pain. It’s a terrible addiction but with a high reward… until you have to hide the evidence. 

That little reminder makes you sigh. Too many scars are hard to hide, and with Damon back, you have to be careful. It would break him to see you this way; that thought alone makes you put down the blade. For a moment longer, you stare at the tricking blood, committing the sight to memory to maybe fend off the next urge. To imagine the blood on your skin may convince yourself it’s there, and maybe you won’t cut the next time you’re so desperate. Maybe. 

You reach for a piece of toilet paper to dab the wounds. The bleeding needs to stop before you crave another scare. It’s so tempting, but-

“Hey,” Damon appears suddenly, peeking through the door. His eyes are narrowed, as if sensing something’s wrong. “What are you doing?”

You turn to face him and hold your hands around your back quickly. “Nothing.”

“Are you sure?” He opens the door a little wider, seeing the reflection of your hidden hands in the mirror. “Let me see your arms.”

“I’m okay.” Nervously, you pull down your sleeves to hide your wounds as much as possible. Your eyes meet the floor, unable to lie if you look into his blues.

“No, you’re not.” He argues, anxious to see your face; to not let you shy away and avoid his gaze. His approach makes your heart race, confirming his worst fears. “Let me see.”

“I thought you were leaving. I thought Stefan needed you.”

“He does, but he can wait.”

“But-”

“You’re my first priority. I can tell something’s up. Please,” he brushes a hair away from your face, “let me in.”

“Damon, I’m fine.”

“You’re hurting, and I can smell the blood, and I’m really trying hard not to freak out right now.”

You huff at the realization that he could smell it. You should’ve waited for him to be gone longer before breaking your skin. “Promise me you won’t be mad.”

“Why would I be mad?”

“Just promise me.” Tears well in your eyes, but you let them fall, unwilling to take your hands off your sleeves. 

“Y/N, I promise. I could never be mad. Just let me see it.”

Slowly, you release your sleeves, but leave the task of rolling them up to him. You can’t bear to do it yourself. Damon takes one hand gently and pulls the sleeve back. Upon seeing the numerous cuts, he pulls the other back with a little more vigor, but is still careful not to hurt you. He stares, unable to speak or move, as his heart breaks with every passing second. 

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper. His eyes meet yours and you finally break down into tears. 

Without a moment of hesitation, he pulls you into a hug, wrapping his arms protectively around your body. You feel safe in his arms, you always do. Damon has a way about him that always makes you feel safe, no matter what anyone else thinks of him. He’s loyal and understanding, and that is part of the reason you feel so horrible for not telling him this. 

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, now sobbing into his chest. 

Your heart beats and reminds him that you are alive. The cuts made into your skin weren’t deep enough to take you. The pain you have been feeling hasn’t swallowed you whole. He concentrates on your breathing, and your crying, and uses it to anchor himself before asking the thousands of questions flooding his mind. 

He pulls away, finally, and wipes your tears with his thumbs. His hands grip your shoulders with a gentle desperation, as if he’s afraid you could dissipate at any moment. 

“Y/N…”

“I didn’t mean for you to find out this way.”

“Did you mean for me to find out at all?”

Your heart feels heavy as you reply, “honestly, no.”

“Why not tell me, Y/N? You know I love you. If you’re hurting, I want to be there for you.”

“I know… I guess I just didn’t want to disappoint you? Some part of me was embarrassed about it, and I didn’t want you to see me differently because of it. I don’t know.” 

“Baby, there’s nothing you could do that’d ever make me love you less. Nothing that would ever make me feel a different way, or see you in another light.”

“I know. I know my feelings are totally irrational, I just… they’re fears.”

“I understand.” He kisses your forehead, then releases your shoulders to hold your hands and kiss them, too. “Hey, can you promise me something?”

“I can try.”

“Come to me the next time you’re feeling like you want to hurt yourself, okay? Let me help you through it.”

“But-”

“It doesn’t matter what’s going on, or who’s texting, I will drop anything and put you first. But you gotta let me in when you need it. Okay?”

“Okay.” You take a deep breath. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Now,” he pauses, biting into his arm and holding it out for you to drink. His other hand meets the back of your head, stabilizing your neck to keep you comfortable. 

To his dismay, you refuse. You try to pull away, but his other hand prevents that, so you look down instead. “I can’t.”

“Y/N…”

“The scars are a reminder that I bleed. As soon as they fade away, the urge returns, but if they’re there for a little while, the urge is less strong. They’re kind of a comfort, I think. A reminder.”

“So you don’t want me to heal them?”

“I’d rather not. They don’t bother me too much. Do they bother you?”

You can see the hesitation in his eyes. He fights with himself, knowing the sight is a reminder of your pain, but understands their existence helps you heal. After a moment, he shakes his head. “No, baby, I only care that you’re safe.” He kisses them one more time. “Have you eaten much today?”

“Not really.”

“Well… do you mind if I make you something, even if it’s just something small, and then we can sit together on the couch? We’ll take today slow.”

“Okay. Wait, but what about Stefan?”

“Caroline can handle it. Then he’ll be in her debt and she’ll be happy about it,” he jokes.

You smile, appreciating his humor despite the somber mood hanging above both your heads. He’s the light in dark times, the much needed laugh that breaks the awkward silence. It’s part of the reason you fell for him so quickly. 

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Okay. And thank you.”

He pulls you in to kiss your forehead, then reaches for your hand. “Of course.”

[therabbitthatpostthings]

This AU is a combination of the Book and Movie. Spoilers!

This is what happens when you let the hyper fixation win. You write an entire fanfic with SEVERAL WIPS still not even thought about. If any of this OOC, don't worry Pookie. Im literally just vining- not thoughts.

(Masterpost)

⦾･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ⦾ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ⦾

Cesari’s was packed as usual. The inside was just as noisy as the outside, even in the back storage where (Y/N) sat on the boxes. A familiar bright pink hoop skirt came running into the room.

“(Y/N)!” Lettie’s voice snapped them out of their daze. “Are you alright? Someone said they saw you fly in on the balcony?”

“Oh, so that wasn’t a dream...” (Y/N) replied feeling a deep pit in their chest. (Y/N) recounted the last 2 hours of their day. The shadowy figure and the mysterious man. Lettie listened intently, the worry showing on her face. She held a stern look but her fist grasped onto her dress, balling the fabric up.

“Don’t worry Lettie, I’ll go straight home after the post office.” (Y/N) reassured her.

“(Y/N), what if that was the Wizard Gojo! They say he steals hearts.” Lettie urged.

(Y/N) patted their worried sister’s head, “Don’t be silly. What would he want with my heart?”

“(Y/N) I’m serious! The Wizard of the Waste is back too! It’s dangerous out there.”

“I'll be fine, I don’t go out at night. And Fanny is there most of the time.”

Lettie’s face scrunched up at the mention of Fanny. The two never hated each other but Lettie had become somewhat angry at her after Mr.Hatter died. They had a big argument only a week into her apprenticeship at Cesari’s and then never spoke again. Neither would mention what was said. (Y/N) wouldn’t ask.

“I should get going.” (Y/N) said reaching for their hat.

“Wait!” Lettie called out. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

The way Lettie grabbed onto their skirt was unbecoming of her. Worried is one thing but, scared? Lettie Hatter scared? Impossible, (Y/N) thought.

“I am not Lettie. I’m Martha.”

⦾･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ⦾ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ⦾

On the crate opposite to them, (Y/N) finally noticed the way this girl moved was not like Lettie. (Y/N) knew Lettie’s tells all too well, her and Martha were quite similar in that aspect. Lettie was very confident in her movements, she didn’t sway when she stood or clasped her hands in front of her. This girl looked exactly like Lettie. Except her hair had a certain curl to it that Lettie’s didn’t. Lettie took after their mother, beautiful blonde hair, bright blue eyes and fair skin. This girl’s blonde hair was somewhat duller, her eyes greener and face rounder- only a little though. Only to the degree that an older sibling like (Y/N) would notice the difference.

(Y/N) could now hear the softness in her voice that was Martha’s. The shyness she carried, the way her nails dug into her hands, the way she tilted her head down. This was Martha.

“It was my idea but Lettie wanted it too! I promise!” Martha urged. “Lettie wants to learn magic, she wants to be a Sorceress. I like Market Chipping, I don’t want to work in the Capital.”

“But, you’re so good at magic Martha.”

“So is Lettie! But Mother just doesn’t believe in her! I saw it in Lettie and so did Mrs.Fairfax or she would have sent Lettie home by now.” said Martha.

“How did you become… like this?” (Y/N) guestured.

“A spell I learned. It was hard at first but we’ve managed. Soon I’ll look like myself again and Lettie will too. It’ll be far too late to send us back.” Even with her head turned away from (Y/N), they could see her confident smile.

(Y/N) sat exasperated. “Martha, there surely was a less extreme way to do this.”

Martha scoffed. “Mother would never listen. She’s too busy galavanting around town.”

“Martha that’s your mothe-”

“Oh please, she only wants to get rid of us! She wants Lettie married off, she wants me in the capital and you to keep bringing in money to spend.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yes it is. And you can pretend you don’t see it (Y/N) but we all do.”

“It was Father’s shop.”

“And now it’s Fanny’s. But she doesn’t make any hats does she? You do.”

Before (Y/N) could say anything else a shopkeep came around with a load of boxes, calling for ‘Lettie’. Martha urged (Y/N) to be home before dark and (Y/N) agreed. “I won’t say a thing to Fanny, I promise.”

“(Y/N), do something with your life. It’s yours.”

Back onto the bustling streets, (Y/N) maneuvered to the not-as-busy post office. The front desk attendant barely looked at them before shoving a box of silks and ribbons their way. As quickly as they entered, (Y/N) left back towards the hat shop.

A line of fancily dressed people waited.

Fanny rushed outside, still in her finest dress, bonnets in hand. “Oh (Y/N)! There you are, hurry now!”

The eager patrons of the hat shop knew as well as Martha that (Y/N) made the best hats. After Fanny had married Mr.Hatter, she only managed to sell 12 hats a month. After just one month of (Y/N) taking over, the hat shop was full. Young aristocrats bustling in and out of Market Chipping just for a chance to get a Hatter’s Original hat. Fanny was more of a marketing woman, bringing in many of her rich associates to the store, spinning them pleasantries and talking them into a nice hat- or four.

“Yes.” (Y/N) thought to themselves. “Fanny is just as helpful as I am.”

Fanny waved the last of the guest goodbye. She turned back to (Y/N). “Oh (Y/N), what would we do without you?”

“It’s no trouble Fanny,” (Y/N) hummed. “I saw Lettie today.”

“That’s nice dear,” Fanny mused, checking her makeup in the mirror. “She’s already 19, it’s time for her to start thinking of a partner. A young woman her age...”

“Fanny. I’m marrying age…”

Fanny paused before letting out a short but loud guffaw. “(Y/N), you know you don’t like other people.”

“Right…” (Y/N) responded barely above a whisper. It didn’t reach Fanny’s ears as she was one foot out the door.

“And do try to get some rest tonight. Busy day tomorrow.” And Fanny was gone.

(Y/N) hadn’t the time to think about that conversation before the sound of wheels against the bricks reached them. In walked a tall man with long black hair. His top hat looked finer than any fabric (Y/N) had on hand. Though he came in alone, (Y/N) could see the shape of two figures outside the door.

The man let out a hushed scoff and straightened himself again. “I hear your hats are marvelous. Show me.”

This man dressed in fineries, finer than anything this little hat shop had to offer. (Y/N) didn’t trust themselves to say anything, their current mood was unbecoming of someone of his higher class. (Y/N) simply nodded and brought out the men’s hats.

The man went down the row of hats, from top hats to boaters to fedoras. He rejected them all with a snide remark on each of their lackings. “Don’t you have anything else?”

And again (Y/N) brought out more modest hats, clearly below this condescending man’s taste. If he ever had one.

“Oh.” He said flatly. One of the people standing outside the door snicked.

Another voice from outside spoke. “These hats are tacky.”

(Y/N) huffed, “Well pardon me for not being up to your standards, we are but a little shop after all.”

“I was expecting more, Hatter. Given how everyone talks about your shop I was hoping for a magic touch.” The rude man sneered.

“You come into my shop 20 minutes before closing, in the midst of the spring festival! I don’t know what magic you were expecting but it clearly isn’t here.”

“Clearly.” He stated. “I hate people who waste my time, Hatter. But I hate insignificant magicless rats even more.”

The shop suddenly felt cramped and the man’s form took on an imposing aura. As if the entire room was being swallowed in his presence. “Most importantly, it’s been many years since someone has dared to insult the Wizard of the Waste.”

(Y/N) felt light headed as their face paled. Struggling to not trip backwards on shaking knees. The Wizard took terrifyingly slow steps towards (Y/N), each with a distinct, deafening tap against the wooden floor.

(Y/N) tried to squeak out an apology but was silenced by the man’s towering frame. They braced themselves as he reached his arm out. “There, much better.”

(Y/N) slowly opened their eyes to see the man wearing a straw hat with a light blue ribbon wrapped around it. He admired himself in the mirror before turning back towards the door. “You won’t be able to tell anyone about that spell. Send Satoru my regards.”

The door clicked shut. The footsteps faded. He was gone and (Y/N) was alone again.

Spell? What spell? Why would the Wizard of the Waste, waste a spell on them. Fanny always warned (Y/N) about their temper but surely that couldn’t be grounds to be cursed.

(Y/N) wanted to look outside the shop. To know if this was some misunderstanding or maybe could an apology fix it. Then they saw it. Staring back at them in the mirror was an old person. They reached up to touch the wrinkled leathery skin. Boney hands grazed against sunken eye bags.

“Ah, a dream. A dream- yes. Oh, I’m so sleepy.” (Y/N) rushed over to lock the door. Leaving the hat shop in disarray, they rushed upstairs and quickly went to bed.

Surely, this would all make sense in the morning.

[balkanradfem]

Okay so I know I just hit you all with the controversial chestnut poll, but I have some new development in life that I want to complain about, and in order for me to complain about it, I need to give you the context.

I don't particularly want to give you the context. You're going to diagnose me with female socialization, and some of you will feel the urge to click the anonymous ask button and tell me off. Today I need you to fight that urge! I am feeling insecure, I am feeling lost, I'm not certain in my choices, I've acted without thinking, and got myself into a situation I can't control. So please don't be mean to me. I deserve to complain on the internet and not be called out, alright?

So this is the story of how I accidentally became a live-in caretaker for an injured, elderly woman. It's temporary! She'll get better, hopefully.

I worked for her occasionally, and she's always been kind to me. She would give me a little jar of jam sometimes, and I love little jars of jam, it's a way to win my heart. A few days ago, she called me in a panic, telling me she fell, and she needs my help. I came over, and found out she broke her arm in two places, and one of her rib is broken. She fell unconscious, after being dizzy all day, and fell on a big metal lantern, breaking it. She was now in so much pain she couldn't get up by herself, dress herself, or do any kind of household tasks. She went to the ER, got her arm wrapped up, and was trying to get a pain injection. I helped her get trough the day, and promised to come early next morning, to help her up from the bed.

Next day I found her in tears in her bed, unable to get up, desperate to go to the bathroom. It became clear she needed 24/7 assistance, and she asked me if I would move in until she got better. I said yes without thinking, because I was at this point, severely concerned, and wanted to do anything to help her out.

So this is all not so bad, right, I'm being normal, it's normal to offer help to an injured elderly woman who is nice, but there's a catch. She doesn't live alone. She lives with her older husband. Who is also disabled and can't help her at all. So in order to help her out.. I had to move into a place where a male lives. That is the worst part of this.

I'm still in the first few days of living like this, and my own life had to fall to the background. I can't go foraging for chestnuts every day, I can't go to my garden as much, I'm still going to work, just from her place. I'm overwhelmed and struggling to get used to the new situation. I'm not used to being around people at all, and now I'm forced to socialize almost all day. Caring for someone comes fairly natural! I'm already so in sync with her, she can just look in the certain direction and I know what she wants me to do. I've figured out where everything is in her kitchen, closet, and basement. She's pleased that I know how to do basic household tasks, and am willing to do it in her way. And she's nice, she's telling me things like 'thank you' and 'what would I do without you', which feels good. But I am very exhausted and sleep deprived, she wakes me up at 1am, and then 5am again, and I'm unable to fall back asleep in a room I lack familiarity with. I miss my room.

She and her husband said they were going to pay me, and in my natural ways, I said something like 'no you don't need to' which I feel like everyone will get mad at me for, but they did insist they would pay me anyway. I as usual lack the sense to care about money – someone's arm is broken, that's way more serious issue to me!

Alright so now to the part of the post I wanted to write, a fun poll where you guess, what has her awful husband done by this point :) go ahead and guess!

You have one day to guess! Which one of these scenarios happened in the first few days of his wife breaking three bones in her body. I'll tell you the correct option tomorrow!

[pinkroseblooms]

It's Better Than Regretting

Kikaku Hanbee/f!Reader, post break up, mentions of sex and some light dirty talk (once again, minors dni) probably a little OOC but I tried. This fandom needs more content and this crazed witch like man has a place in my heart. The title is lyrics from "Crashed the Wedding" by Busted which was what inspired me to write this. Summary: Post breakup, Kikaku finds out you've agreed to a marriage of convenience. word count: 4.1k

Kikaku feels the wedding invite burning a hole in his pocket; he takes a long drink of beer, wondering for the tenth time if this is a mistake. The two of you broke up; he and you wanted different things out of life. So what if his parents were friendly with your old man? No one expected the two of you to end up together. In fact, Kikaku had been made all too aware of your father’s disapproval of him. When you got your first piercing, when you got drunk for the first time and missed an exam, when you started staying out all hours of the night frequenting different music venues, the blame was placed squarely on Kikaku’s shoulders for being a bad influence on his perfect princess.

It was always like that; your father would say he was only looking out for you, but Kikaku called it how it actually was; all he was doing was forcing his own expectations onto his only daughter. You had come to him many times, complaining about the feeling of suffocation, wondering how you were supposed to call the man “family” when you couldn’t even talk to him half the time without walking on eggshells. Kikaku didn’t have any answers, aside from telling you “Fuck that shit” and take you out for a good time. 

Eventually, inevitably, the two of you transitioned from friends to friends with benefits; sitting and nursing his beer, Kikaku tries to shove the memory out of his head to no avail. How could he forget? His band had played one of their first shows and barely anyone had showed up, and the people that did hated them. 

You had been the only friendly face at the bar, toasting to him at the end of their set with a sympathetic smile. None of his other girls were answering his texts; you were there and the two of you had a little too much to drink at his place. When the other members left and it was just you and him, Kikaku let you hug him; according to you, he looked like he really needed one, but that wasn’t all he needed. Your body was soft and your breath smelled sweet and sharp from the plum wine. Before Kikaku could communicate to his brain that his dick was acting up around you and it would be a bad idea to act out on this sudden urge, you had kissed the top of his head and squeezed him to your chest. Kikaku can’t remember too much of what happened afterward, only flashes and sensations and waking up in the morning with a raging migraine and you laying nude on the futon next to him. 

It was a good thing the two of you had for a long time until the day you had come back to his apartment and refused a make out session with a serious expression. Kikaku could have guessed the problem; it was always the problem with his main girls. They got too close, too attached, even though Kikaku really didn’t make much of a secret that he wasn’t into the whole exclusive thing. Frankly, he didn’t think what the two of you had was special. You just had the benefit of knowing him the longest and being his friend first. 

That being said, you never showed signs of jealousy or feeling hurt by Kikaku’s other lovers, so he really hadn’t expected that to be the reason you decided to end things officially and not just the sex, but everything. No more shows or take out or movie nights. No more being friends; you called it being amiable. When you crossed paths, you would say hello and engage in a little small talk. Nothing more, nothing less. Kikaku accepted without making a fuss; he was in a shitty mood for a while but hey, getting dumped is never fun.

“Is that why you ended things?” Kikaku cut right to the chase as soon as you took the stool next to him; he slid the card over to your coaster, like it was some distasteful object. “You wanted to make things serious with this guy?”

“Hello to you too. How did you get this? Oh no, just water please.” You told the bartender, who had just come over to take your order. “Kikaku, my father sent this to your parents; how did you get it?”

“Wow, you weren’t even planning to invite an old friend to such a grand occasion?” Kikaku grumbles. “Cold. I thought you said no hard feelings.”

“I heard you were busy with work; besides, since when do you enjoy going to formal parties?” You give him a wry half smile. “Unless there’s an open bar.”

“Is there?”

“Yes. Father spared no expense.” You hold your glass of water but don’t take a drink. “He set up the whole thing. I didn’t even have to worry about picking out a dress. It’s all been decided.”

“What, did he pick out the groom too?”

Kikaku snorts but your smile is nowhere to be seen; you take the invitation and push it over to him. 

“I know it’s short notice, but I’d like your parents to come if they can. They’ve always been good to me; they’ve treated me more like a daughter than he ever did.” You tell him softly. “I must look pretty lame to you, huh? Letting my father marry me off and domesticate me. Is that why you called? Did you want a good laugh?”

“What the hell are you talking about?!” Kikaku turns so quickly in his seat, he nearly knocks over his now empty glass. “I was joking: did your old man really pick the guy out? What, did he send out a resume or something?”

“He works at the same company; we’ve met a few times. His name’s Kenji Hazawa. He needs a wife and my father needs me to settle down. A match made in heaven.”

“So? What is wrong with you?” Kikaku’s eyes scan your face, hardly believing the words coming out of your mouth so casually. “You’re gonna let your dad marry you off to some asshole you don’t even like?”

“Stop. I do not need you, of all the people in the fucking world judging my decisions.” You fix him with a cold stare. “I gave it to you for free. You know what I get with Kenji? A comfortable life and my father finally off my back. I get freedom.”

“How?! How the hell is selling yourself to the highest bidder-?”

“I knew you wouldn’t understand. It’s why I never told you. That's why I stopped talking to you.” You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. “You just don’t get it, Kikaku. I’m a single woman nearly past her expiration date, father’s words not mine, and no one is letting me hear the end of it. I’m done fighting against it all by myself.”

“You don’t have to do this. He can’t force you.”

“It’s already decided. I just have to walk down the aisle and say ‘I do’ and I never have to worry about money or being looked down on again. Sweet deal, isn’t it? Sorry. I guess I’m not the cool badass bitch I thought I was.” You roll your eyes and suck in a breath of air. “I tried doing it my way and what did I get? My father is ready to disown me, everyone in my life is treating me like a joke, minus your folks.”

“I never-”

“No, no, I wasn’t a joke to you. I was a good time.” You correct yourself. “Well, now I’m tired. I’m fucking exhausted and weak, alright? There, I admit it. I’ve been on my own in this and I’m sick and tired of it all. Is it really that different than you giving up music professionally for your merchandising job?”

“My job doesn’t fuck me.” 

The sentence slipped out before Kikaku could filter himself; but it’s true, isn’t it? Won’t your husband expect you to perform your wifely duties? Kikaku’s nails dig into his palms; he can’t get the image out of his head, a faceless man, on top of you, taking you as though you’re his. You might get pregnant. 

“How is this happening? She’s mine…she was mine.”

“It sounds like your job fucks you plenty.” You take a sip of water. “So, is that your issue? You won’t have the chance to get in my pants again if I’m spoken for?”

“Stop changing the subject, this isn’t about me.”

“It’s always about you.” 

Kikaku glares at you, but somehow can’t bring himself to truly be angry; you’re being so despondent and resigned. The person sitting next to him might as well be a stranger. The fire is gone from your eyes and the sly quirk of your lips is nowhere to be seen. But then, maybe that was just the face you showed him. Kikaku can’t even defend himself and say you hadn’t made him aware of what you were going through. You had, multiple times, for years. He just wasn’t taking it to heart. At some point, you apparently decided to pull back entirely. 

“Look, I don’t want to fight. I don’t hate you, Kikaku. This isn’t your business and I never meant for you to even know about the damn wedding. I’m going to get married next week and it’ll be okay. Kenji is a good man; we get along enough. We both know it’s a marriage of convenience.” You smile but it doesn’t reach your dull eyes. “Who knows? Maybe somewhere down the line we could fall in love. Either way, we’ll be content. It’s more than most people get to have.” 

“This is fucking crazy. You’re crazy.” Kikaku is hunched over the bar counter; his voice is shaking. He can’t look at you; all he can do is stare blankly at the wood panel. “You can’t be happy with this. I don’t believe that for a second.”

“I guess it’s a good thing I’m not asking for your blessing.” You put a few bills on the table. “Here, I still owe you for the last time we got drinks. You might not believe it, but I’m doing what’s best for me. I’m living my life for me. It’s my choice to do this, to make it all a little easier.”

“Is that the logic you’re using? Give up something to gain something you want more?” Kikaku leaves the bills on the counter, untouched. “Is it really worth it? Is this really what you want?”

“That’s also none of your business.” Despite your words, your tone is almost kind; with a faint smile, you stand up and push in the stool. “Have a goodnight, Kikaku.”

No. You can’t leave now, not like this. That smile is as fake as they come. Kikaku knows what your fake smiles look like; he’s always been able to tell how you’re feeling. He might not have been much of a comfort on your bad days, but he knew when you were having them, and he would try to make it a little better. 

When did that stop? It wasn’t his intention to make you feel uncared for. Kikaku might have played around, but it didn’t make his feelings for you any less. He was just caught up in other things. He had no idea you were having that hard of a time. 

You walk away and Kikaku doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t yell or leap from his chair to drag you from the door. He can’t feel his legs. You’re getting married. You’re going to be someone’s wife. He’ll never be able to make up with you. It’s over. You’re not going to give him the second chance Kikaku hadn’t even realized he had been hoping for. 

“She’s really gone. It’s really over. She’s getting married.” Kikaku mutters to himself. “She’s getting married and I…I can’t do anything to stop it.”

“Hey don’t worry so much. Most marriages end in divorce.” The bartender comes over to collect the empty glasses. “I got married twice and we were actually in love. Besides, if it’s a marriage of convenience, maybe you can be her side piece.”

“Huh?” Kikaku glowered up at the man smiling placidly down at him. “Who the fuck asked you?!”

“Just trying to offer some comfort. I thought you guys weren’t serious anyway. How drunk are you? Don’t you recognize me?” 

“Uh…”

“Nekota? This is my bar; it has been a while, but you came here a few times with a couple of my buddies.” 

“Oh right. Usao-kun and Kumao-kun’s old friend.” Kikaku recalls. “My bad, I was…I’m kinda out of it today.” 

“I could tell. That seemed rough. Want something stronger? On me, but just this once; still gotta make those child support payments after all, haha.” Nekota laughs good naturedly as he pulls down a bottle of tequila from the middle shelf. “Hey, that’s something to drink to; you’re a young bachelor, you’ve got plenty of time to settle down if you want to.”

Settle down? Kikaku never wanted to settle down; that was why things didn’t work between him and you in the first place. He has no right to feel so deflated. 

Was there some secret part of him that hoped you would eventually come back? Well, contrary to Nekota’s assurances, Kikaku doesn’t have time. You’re going to be married in a week. You’ll be someone else’s. He won’t have a place in your world, not any more, not when you’re going to be somebody's beautiful, blushing bride. 

“She doesn’t even love him. How can she do this?”

“Come on, Kikaku, right? Here, have a drink and relax.” Nekota beckons with his hand and sets down the shot of tequila. “The little lady said so herself, it’s not your problem.”

“No. I guess it’s not.”

Nekota is right and Kikaku doesn't need a two time divorcee to lecture him on matters of the heart. You had every right to go and marry another person, for whatever reason. Kikaku isn't even your friend anymore and he's certainly not your boyfriend. You don't owe him a thing and it's not his place to step in and try to convince you to not go through with a sham marriage. You've chosen your path and he's chosen his. All he can do now is toast to your nuptial and hope for the best. He can do that much for you.

"To the bride and groom." 

"Here, here!" Nekota clinks his own shot glass with Kikaku's. "Good man, you're gonna be just fine."

"Cheers." Kikaku slurs and downs his shot in one large swallow. "Here's to the whole thing goes off without a hitch."

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

“Do you take this woman, to have and to hold, to-”

“I OBJECT! NO ONE SAY ANOTHER DAMN WORD, I OBJECT!!!”

It took Kikaku two hours to get up that morning; he had been drinking into the late hours of the night in a last ditch effort to make sure he wasn't able to be mobile today off all days. Even now, dressed sloppily in an old suit, hair hastily tied back and eyes sunken in with sleep deprivation, he feels like he’s running in a dream. The venue is quaint but tastefully decorated in pastels. There’s not many guests; he supposes your father wanted to get the wedding done with little fanfare. The objective was to tie you down, not throw a celebration. 

“Son of a bitch.” Your father is the first one to rise; he addresses you angrily. “Did you invite him?”

“N-no!” 

You look aghast, glancing rapidly between Kikaku as he comes barreling down the aisle and your soon to be husband. Kenji looks twice as confused and a little scared, which is fair, considering how haggard and demented Kikaku looks, like a twitchy spider rushing to catch its prey. You hadn’t heard a peep from Kikaku since that night and his parents had politely turned down your invite, as they had a previous engagement they were committed to attend. It was a good thing they couldn’t, because you’re certain both Kikaku’s mother and father would keel over and die from the spectacle their son is currently making of himself. 

“I said, I object!” 

"Heavens above." The priest frowns. “Not another one.”

“WILL YOU SHUT UP?” It’s a wonder Kikaku can yell so loudly when he’s barely breathing; there’ sweat stains at his collar and the underarms of his blazer. “You can’t marry these two-they shouldn’t be married!”

“Who the heck are you?” Kenji’s brows furrow and he looks at you questioningly. “Do you know this guy?”

“Yes.” You sigh. “Kikaku, you’ve been drinking, haven’t you? I could smell you from the doors. Didn’t I tell you this wasn’t any of your business?”

“I don’t care! Dammit, I’m sorry, alright? I’m sorry it took me so long to get my head out of my ass, but this isn’t about me.” Kikaku finally manages to speak without gasping. “I get it. You’re tired of dealing with your father’s bullshit and you think this is the only way out, but it’s not.”

“I’m calling the police!” Your father’s face is red and he looks ready to run up to the podium and deck Kikaku in the face. “How dare you? Haven’t you done enough? You weren’t good enough for her then and you sure as hell aren’t now.”

“Dad, you don’t need to call the police,” You look at him pleadingly. “Kikaku will leave on his own. He knows this is what I want.”

“No it’s not.” 

“Dammit, will you leave already!?” You’re the one raising your voice now; hot tears prick the corners of your eyes. “Why, Kikaku? Why are you doing this to me? Are you just upset because I won’t be available anymore? Well, too bad. Go play with one of your girlfriends and stop making a scene.”

“I’m sorry. I'll say it as many times as I have to.” Kikaku steps forward until he’s standing in front of you. “I’m sorry for not listening. I’m sorry it took me this long to get it, but you don’t have to get married.”

“What? Is this your idea of a proposal or something?”

“I don’t deserve you either. I should have been there more. I can be.” Kikaku looks at you, exhausted, desperate. “Don’t do this. Let me be there for you like I should have been all this time. You don’t have to fight on your own, not anymore. I’ll never leave you alone again.”

You blink and tears drip down your cheeks. “Kikaku,”

“I sent out messages to all the girls I was seeing last night. Look at my contact list.” Kikaku takes his phone out of his pocket and shows you the screen; his contact list only has a handful of names, people you recognize as family and work colleagues and friends. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, just…don’t marry this guy.”

“Kikaku, you’re being absolutely-!”

“Hey,” Kenji begins tentatively. “I think he makes a few good points.”

“What?” You turn to stare at your fiance. “But, I agreed to this.”

“It’s not like we’re in love.” Kenji cracks a begrudging smile. “It could’ve been nice but something tells me that’s not going to cut it.”

“I’m…I couldn’t just-”

“Also, your friend’s kinda freaking everyone out and I’m a little scared he’s going to put a curse on me.” Kenji glances at Kikaku. “You couldn’t have showered before coming to take the bride away?”

“You-!” Kikaku grabs your hand. “Just for that, you’re cursed! Everyone’s cursed! I hope the open bar is worth it assholes!” his eyes soften as he looks at your stricken face. “Can we talk somewhere more private? I think your old man is gonna kill me before the cops show up.”

You look at his hand; his palm is sweaty. 

“Please.” Kikaku’s voice is hoarse. “I won’t leave without you. I never want to go anywhere without you.”

“Damn you.” You’re really crying now. “You asshole.”

“Yeah.” Kikaku offers a weak smile; he glances down at your dress. “Oh. Wow.”

“Don’t say it.” You shake your head and wipe your eyes aggressively. “I know, it wasn't my choice.”

“You’re beautiful.”

Kikaku exhales and his grip on your hand tightens; he’s only just taking in the sight of you, dressed head to toe in a flowing white gown, dolled up and looking like an angel descended from heaven. 

Maybe he was full of shit because right now all Kikaku wants to do is take you away for himself. He brings a hand up to wipe the tears off your cheek; why do you look so sad? Is he really not wanted here? Is giving himself to you not enough?

“I’ve been a fucking mess all week.” Kikaku admits, eyes searching your face for any sign you don’t despise him. “I couldn’t sleep or eat or focus at work. I’m being shameless, you don’t have to tell me that. Maybe it’s too late for us, but I can still fix this. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Just tell me what I have to do.”

You’re blushing now under his intense stare. “...take me with you.”

“What?” Kikaku leans in to catch every word. “What do you want?”

“You. I want you, Kikaku. I want you to take me out of here.” You confess, trying not to whimper as his thumb rubs your hot cheek. “I can’t do this without you.”

“Say no more.”

You hike up your skirt and kick off your heels; Kikaku leads the way, the two of you ignore the shouts and gasps and threats being hurled your way by your father. Your eyes stay glued on the hand still clutching onto yours and you run, run, run until the car is in sight, decked out in flowers and a “Just Married” sign on the back. Kikaku opens the passenger side door and guides you into the backseat, even lifting the hem of your skirt so the door doesn’t close on it. The driver, rightfully skeptical and a bit horrified, practically throws the keys at Kikaku when he screeches for them. 

“I think everyone assumes you’re some sort of demon here to kidnap me.” You watch as the driver races up the steps of the venue, probably to explain why he’s left his post. “We’re going to have to return the car.”

“For now we drive,” Kikaku turns the keys, backs out of the parking space, and slams his foot on the gas. 

“This is fun for you, isn’t it?”

“A little.” Kikaku laughs, suddenly quite cheerful. “I’m relieved. I thought I was going to lose you…again. I won’t make that mistake again.”

“I’m still on the fence about that.” You tell him warily, taking off your veil. “Did you really mean all that?”

“I might have lied a tiny bit about not wanting to steal you away. I want you for myself. I know it’s not fair to you, but that’s how I feel. I was going crazy.” Kikaku looks at you from the corner of his eye. “You look really good right now.”

“Thanks.” You adjust your seat belt. “Eyes on the road.”

“I want to fuck you in the dress.” Kikaku blurts out. “Let’s get a hotel and pretend we’re married to get a free bottle of champagne.”

“Aren’t you still hungover?”

“Hair of dog. Besides, this calls for a celebration.” Kikaku smirks a little. “I know it’s scary the first time, but I’ll be gentle with my pretty little bride.”

“Kikaku, was this all so you could play out some weird little fantasy?” You grumble. “I’m gonna jump out of this car and run back and see if Kenji will reconsider.”

“No! I was half joking…I just want you so bad.”

“Kikaku,” You cross your arms. “I mean it, I’m not in the mood for any teasing.”

“I meant it all. I’m yours, if you’ll have me.” One of Kikaku’s hands leaves the steering wheel; his playful smile is gone. “Do you not want me anymore? I don’t expect you to believe in me, after everything…but do you want to try again?”

For a tense moment, Kikaku thinks his chest will explode; he might actually die if you say no, even if you have every right to reject him. But then you take his hand and interlock your fingers. You smile, a little exasperated, but it’s a real, genuine smile. It practically blinds him; Kikaku has half a mind to beg you to marry him then and there. There’s still time and Kikaku plans to use it making you fall in love with him so you never regret today.

“Yes.” You kiss the back of his hand and smile brighter than he’s ever seen. “I do.” 

[laughing-reindeerjwj]

Hello everyone, this is the most ordinary post and...

...

INSPIRATION? INSPIRATION!!!! The urge to write a fic at 2 am is killing ME

I noticed that many people started writing fics based on drawings... Supposedly "inspired" But I also got inspiration from one artist..

(Cr to @sheeps-triangle )

In repairing the bot

*｡˚⋆｡˚✩*｡˚⋆｡˚✩*｡˚⋆｡˚✩*｡˚⋆｡˚✩**｡˚⋆｡˚✩*｡˚⋆｡˚✩*

Here it is again, another day in Sprunki-land. Nothing seems to foreshadow trouble. Everyone is having fun, shouting, running and jumping. But for Garnold and Clukr, it was a special day. The two of them sat in their own private room, which was clearly intended for creating bots. And of course, both of them were now busy creating Mister Fun Computer. They attached every detail, removed unnecessary details, added, corrected and all sorts of things like that. And every time it failed, Clukr would just freak out, and Garnold would calm him down, and they would both try new tools and methods. And here, Mister Fun Computer is ready! All that remains is to test... *EXPLOSION* And again there is a burning smell. Clukr throws the screwdriver on the floor and starts banging his head against the wall, slowly saying:

—We will never create it... We will never create it...

Garnold only grabbed Clukr by the shoulders in concern and spoke in a nervous voice:

—Well, Clukr, well, take care of your nerves! We can fix Mister Fun Computer anytime! We haven't even visited Fun Bot yet!

Clukr decided to raise an eyebrow in surprise and spoke in a knowing voice, as if blaming himself for this:

—GREAT! Simply EXCELLENT! We forgot to visit the Fun Bot, and this computer hasn't even been created! Okay, we'll finish this tomorrow... Before we visit Fun Bot, we need to wash up, otherwise you never know... "MY FATHERS ARE DIRTY!!! THEY DRANK MY GASOLINE!!!"

Garnold just laughed and nudged Clukr with his elbow. Clukr just chuckled and both went to wash their dirty faces and hands.

...

Clukr and Garnold climb a seemingly endless staircase. Both are talking about something and actively discussing something. They finally reached this floor. The floor that had Fun Bot's room. Garnold approaches and begins knocking on the door, but there is no answer. Clukr looks at Garnold as if he were a fool, and he only gasped in remembrance and opened the door. Both look into the room and see the following picture: There was a Fun Bot standing in front of them. It seemed like nothing had happened. But Fun Bot stood with his head down. Garnold and Clukr looked at each other as if playing a staring contest. Garnold sighed rather sadly. He walked up to the Fun Bot and began to examine it.

—CLUKR, YOUR LEFT, BRING SOME WET NAPKINS!

Suddenly Garnold cried out in fear. Clukr looked and saw that Garnold had his hands all covered in Fun Bot fuel. Clukr immediately ran away. After 5 seconds he came to Garnold and started wiping his hands. When he had wiped it off, he spoke:

—Don't tell me Fun Bot is leaking...

—I won't say, I'm glad you understand this, but you don't want to hear it.

—...

—I'm serious, Clukrasik, don't look for sarcasm.

—I ASKED YOU NOT TO CALL ME LIKE THAT

Clukr approached the Fun Bot and noticed that the Fun Bot was in "offline" mode. Clukr took out his tools and started doing something behind Fun Bot. When Clukr was convinced of something, he looked at Garnold with a serious look. Yellow realized what this look meant and swallowed hard at the consequences.

—God no...

—Cry some more, baby. We'll have to repair Fun Bot into a different material.

—...Why do I have to suffer all this-

...

Several hours passed. Garnold barely managed to get up to Clukr, who was finishing repairs to the Fun Bot. Garnold was all tired, because he had to throw away all the old and heavy parts. Clukr just waved his hand and finally attached the Fun Bot's head to the body.

—OH, SEE WHAT I CAN DO!? And you said, "You can't do it without me!!"

—I was joking then, snitch.

—Who are you calling a snitch!? Although okay, call it whatever you want... I finally finished the Fun Bot and it's good as new! All that remains is to test the material for strength.... What if it falls apart and who will be to blame?

—I think his first steps will be to blame...

Clukr just rolled his eyes and began to lightly feel Fun Bot's body. There is no sign of trouble right now. Garnold just watches with curiosity next to Clukr, but suddenly... *A hit from the genre of "epic break music"* Clukr and Garnold stop in confusion. Both switch their attention to each other.

—...Are these your doings? Why did he make such a strange sound?

—I know? He suddenly made such a sound, I didn’t expect it myself! And no, I certainly couldn’t program something like that, I prefer the classics.

—This is suspiciously strange, Fun Bot has never responded to touch like this before...

Garnold also decides to touch the Fun Bot. Once again, a few hits from the genre "epic break music". After these sounds, Fun Bot have an exclamation mark appear on the entire screen. Clukr starts touching Fun Bot along with Garnold in confusion.

—Garnold, are you sure Fun Bot is okay?

—I'm sure yes. I don't understand what that exclamation mark on the screen is though...

Both of them thought for a long time, clouded their heads and became tense. This went on for about a minute before Garnold realized. He gasped in surprise and spoke.

—Wait... I think I have an idea.. Clukr! Do with Fun Bot exactly what I'm doing with myself now!

Clukr's attention turned to Garnold, who was running his hands over his body. Clukr looked at Garnold like "Dude, are you serious?". But then he repeated these actions in Fun Bot. "Epic break music" suddenly played for a few seconds. When it was over, the "blushed" face of Fun Bot appeared on the screen. Garnold realized that his thoughts were correct. He smirked and looked at Clukr. Clukr just looked at Garnold with the Scala's gaze.

—Oh no, Clukr, I'm afraid this will seem strange and stupid...

—What? Do you understand why Fun Bot plays epic break music?

—Yes, I got it! Well, I'll base it on my theory... For many bots, any kind of break music means laughter! And actually, when we touch Fun Bot, it laughs!

—God, no... Just don't tell me that-

—Yes, you think correctly! But I think that could be turned into a sneaky idea!

—Wait... GASP Oh, I get it...

Garnold and Clukr have the most sinister grins on their faces. And just the sight of that sly smile made stomach churn. Fun Bot saw smirks on their faces, causing the exclamation mark to appear on the screen again. Clukr and Garnold immediately ran up to Fun Bot and started tickling Fun Bot, not even missing a single spot, while he played aggressive break music. The two of them just laughed with delight and malice, realizing the sillies of the situation. Every cheerful note of laughter and aggressive note of break music was heard throughout the room, filling the room with some kind of vibe. The atmosphere seemed to become comfortable, cheerful and playful. Of course, Clukr and Garnold hadn't had this much fun in a long time. Garnold accidentally hits one of Fun Bot's antennae, causing it to subsequently make a robotic snort and the break music sound again. Clukr's eyes immediately lit up with a spark of mischief, and Garnold only gasped and grinned maliciously.

Oh no.

That was the last straw.

Clukr and Garnold immediately start aiming at the Fun Bot's Antennas, while he slightly trembles, play break music and even robotically giggle, begging for mercy. Clukr just laughed at the Fun Bot himself. Here the Fun Bot has already decided to take action. He immediately tackles Clukr and Garnold to the floor as they both look at him in shock. Fun Bot grinned maliciously. Clukr and Garnold immediately realized that this was the end. They both looked at each other and sighed.

—And I will blame you for this...

—It's your own fault that you agreed to this!

—You shouldn't have even mentioned this! Who loosened your tongue anyway!?

—Will you talk for a long time? Otherwise my hands are already blissful about revenge.

They both swallowed and smiled nervously. Fun Bot just grinned and several hands appeared from its back. Garnold and Clukr looked at themselves as if it was the last time. Right then, Fun Bot starts tickling the two of them. The tickling is smooth, fast, gentle and soft, as if not causing harm. But so strong that in the very first second both of them started laughing out loud. Some of them were like a horse, others like a pig or a mosquito. They hoped that someone would come and save them from the "tickle monster." Fun Bot just enjoyed this moment. He also remembered that he had not heard this sincere laughter from the lips of Garnold and Clukr for a long time. And since today was a busy day for them, Fun Bot decided to make a "gift" from himself. Here Garnold and Clukr are just laughing and already trying to cover their bodies. This continues for a few more seconds. Fun Bot thinks that we can end this right now. Here the Fun Bot stops. More precisely, he slows down, stops and removes his hands. Clukr and Garnold start breathing quickly. They inhale every drop of air. Fun Bot falls next to them and also tries to pretend to breathe. The three of them looked at each other and giggled slightly. Tired Clukr, happy Fun Bot and giggling Garnold. They sat down in a row and Clukr spoke:

—shuriki-mousiriki... It was so... funny... I thought this day would be much worse.

—and i can't argue with that, Clukr, but now we'll have to strengthen Fun Bot's material much more.

—Oh yeah, regarding my material! It's only 95% complete! To make sure that it is properly reinforced, you need to strengthen it starting from the neck area and ending with the chest area! Within our capabilities, or tomorrow?

—I think we'll do it tomorrow.. Today I'm tired...

—I agree... It was funny... Oh, it's so late now! Okay, Fun Bot, go to bed... We'll come to you tomorrow!

—Okay, my favorites! Always glad to see you! *Sleep mode. Reboot. Shutdown. 1% sleep.*

Clukr just looked softly at Fun Bot and chuckled weakly. Garnold yawned weakly, stood up and picked up Clukr. Clukr just playfully rolled his eyes and yawned. They both started going down to their room to fall asleep and wake up in a good mood tomorrow. They knew that tomorrow would be very good. Well, maybe they didn't know, but they hoped. And from that day on, the house of Clukr and Garnold became a happy house. You'll never get bored in it now.

Yes...

Maybe that day will never be so terrible again.

*｡˚⋆｡˚✩*｡˚⋆｡˚✩*｡˚⋆｡˚✩*｡˚⋆｡˚✩**｡˚⋆｡˚✩*｡˚✩*｡*

Note:GUYS I AM SO TIRED WRITING THIS THAT I HAVE DISRUPT MY SLEEP ROUTINE again. I don't know why I was so inspired... I didn't expect to spend an hour and a half on this fic... But I think it's written well! At least I tried not to make mistakes, like I did last time...

[calm-shy-social]

Clinic Fic

Notes: So this fic is very long. It ended up being 30 pages when I wrote it up. I did use some of the video game dialogue; however I did cut out certain conversations since it would have been too much to write. I did add a few extra scenes lol. I hope you enjoy. I wanted to really get a little more in my character's psyche in this one. As well as getting more in her emotions. This was a fun writing exercise for me. I stopped writing fiction a long time ago, but just got back into it. So, forgive me if I'm a bit rusty still. I appreciate any comments, reblogs, likes, etc. This will also be posted on my AO3 account under ShyQueen if you wish to read it there instead.

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Breaking into Dr. Kelly’s clinic was all too easy for Julia Scarlet. Her high school days of sneaking through a bedroom window had prepared her for this very moment. Once inside, she rubbed her hands on her jeans, gazing around at the dusty space above. She could practically feel the seal calling to her, the silent pull urging her onward inside the home.

“Now…where are you…?” Julia muttered as she navigated her way through the hallway before pausing directly at a dark, open door. It was almost as if it were inviting her inside. The overwhelming sensation gnawed within her. This had to be it. She reached one hand through in hopes of searching for a light switch. Upon feeling it, she flicked it on.

Reese squinted his eyes as he suddenly became bathed in luminous lighting. He placed a hand to shield himself from the intense brightness. He turned his head in annoyance, expecting his mother to be entering the morgue, disrupting his peace. Instead, it was the girl he had been crushing on for the past few days.

He suddenly jolted upright. “Julia? W-what are you doing in the morgue?”

“H-Hi!” Julia stammered as a pink blossomed on her cheeks. She really didn’t know what to say to him at that moment.

“H-hey…” Reese swung his legs off the table and strode over to her with hands stuffed in his jean pockets, “Sorry, this must look weird. I promise, I’m not secretly dead already or something. Sometimes I just come down here to…practice. Rehearse.”

Julia took a step toward him as a playful smirk spread across her face, “You know, if you were a living corpse, that wouldn’t be a dealbreaker.” 

“That’s good to know. I’m still not.” Reese chuckled as he began to shift his feet nervously. “But I’m glad I haven’t managed to scare you off; it’s not often I get to meet new people. Especially new people, I, um…would like to get to know them better.”

“Well, that makes—” Julia’s response was cut short as the intense sensation burned within her once again. She suddenly turned away from the artist, placing both of her palms against the wall. She needed to get inside. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Reese reached out, shaking her shoulder gently. 

The pull had loosened its grip on her as she turned to face Reese once more, “Huh?”

“Are you good? You looked kind of possessed there for a second.” He asked, a bit concerned. 

“There’s another one of those stone carvings behind that wall. I need to get inside.” Julia ran a hand through her blonde hair. “Is there anything that you have that can…tear down this wall or something?” 

Reese hesitantly glanced at the wall before landing his eyes on Julia again. “You’re serious, aren’t you? Umm, this is probably a bad idea… But if you really need to get in there, I’m pretty sure there’s an emergency axe somewhere upstairs. I’d just need to get the doc out of our hair. It should only take two seconds.”

Julia nodded eagerly at the sound of the idea, “By all means. Do what you need to do!”

“Sweet. Be right back.” Reese smiled before heading up the stairs to speak to his mother.

Julia tapped her wedged heel impatiently, crossing her arms across her body. Suddenly, Reese called down to her from the top of the stairs, “It worked! Come on up; we don’t have much time until she’s back.”

“Finally,” she said under her breath before ascending up the stairs, “I’m glad your little trick worked.”

“Thanks…. It’s usually foolproof.” Reese glanced down timidly as they made their way into the living room. “So, it’s one of those emergency axes that we can use for the wall; however it’s locked up in a cabinet. Let’s head into the doctor’s office first. Maybe we can find the keys for it there.”

“Sounds good, lead the way.” Julia nodded as she followed Reese down the hallway. 

The two headed inside the office, and they began to scour for any signs of keys. Julia’s eye, however, directly caught a stack of files that were labeled with the name ‘Scarlet’. They just were laid out on the desk, almost inviting her to read the contents inside. She snatched the files and began to skim through them.

“Find something?” Reese asked curiously as he peered over her shoulder.

“It’s death certificates of the Scarlet family…this is certainly interesting.” Julia muttered as she flipped through the pages. The death certificates of her relatives provided a trove full of information that could be useful in this entire mystery; however the most intriguing piece of discovery was that of Tabitha’s middle name.

“Tabitha’s middle name is Chrystatheum? I wonder who cursed her with that mouthful.” Reese raised one eyebrow as he read over the file.

“Ha! I’m definitely going to make fun of her for that later…” Julia placed the files back down on the desk. “Though, my own mother decided to name me Julia Sage. But I’d take Sage over Chrysanthemum any day.”

“Julia Sage Scarlet?” Reese chuckled a bit, amused by it. “I like it. I think… it’s pretty…”

“Thanks, I used to hate it. But it’s kind of grown on me over the years.” Julia gave a soft smile. “How about yours?” “Oh, it’s—” Reese paused as his eyes flicked to the doorway after hearing the sound of the door handle being turned. 

He placed his hand on Julia’s shoulder and pushed her out of view. “Shit! I’m not supposed to be here. We have to hide. I don’t want the doc finding you, too.” 

The two hurried to the nearby closet door as Reese motioned for Julia to go inside first. The space was already crammed with a bunch of boxes and other miscellaneous items, leaving barely any room to breathe.

 Reese slid into the closet just before Dr. Kelly stormed into the room. The two kept a watchful eye through the crack of the door as the doctor placed down a plastic bag on the counter before making her quick exit.

“We better wait a second, just in case…” Reese whispered to her.

Julia silently nodded as her eyes drifted to Reese. She could feel her own heart racing with pure excitement as their bodies were so close to each other. It also wasn’t her first experience of hiding in closets with parents lurking around. 

She shut her eyes briefly, savoring the moment between them. She inhaled the aroma of his clothing. He smelled nice…Though, there was almost something else that felt unnatural about it—something Julia couldn’t quite place. Within a second, her eyes fluttered open only to find Reese staring down at her, his hand trembling on the doorknob.

“Sorry,” he said timidly as he looked away from her, “I didn’t mean to put us in such tight quarters.” 

Julia smirked and placed her hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay… I don’t mind at all. There’s no one I’d rather be stuck in an enclosed space with.”

Reese trembled nervously,  his eyes wide in surprise. “Y-you mean that?” He wasn’t used to this sort of thing happening to him at all.

“I like you and not platonically.” Julia flashed a smile at him. “Sorry, was that too forward? I can be a bit direct sometimes.”

“N-no, I….feel the same way…” Reese stammered as his face continued to turn a bright shade of red. 

Julia’s gaze darted toward the opening of the closet door before looking up into his blue eyes. “Do you want to play seven minutes in heaven?” 

“Ummm, I—I haven’t played before…” Reese stuttered as he pressed his back against the closet wall.  His heart felt like it was about to burst from his chest as Julia’s body pressed against his. The warmth of her skin felt so nice that it sent a shiver down his spine. He could feel the sweat forming on his forehead as his knees threatened to give out at any moment. 

“That’s okay, I can teach you how to play,” Julia whispered in his ear, cupping the sides of his face before leaning up toward his lips.

Reese’s pupils widened, and he reluctantly leaned down. However, out of his peripheral view, he noticed a small can of disinfectant spray beginning to wobble off the shelf. If it fell, their cover would be completely blown.

 Swiftly, Reese shot his arm out to catch it as he instinctively pulled Julia with the other against him. The right side of her face pressed against his bony chest as his shaky hand rested against the back of her head. The can met his palm before it could hit the ground. Reese stood frozen, gulping as the sound of Dr. Kelly’s footsteps grew louder once more.

Julia’s face grew red as she heard his frantic heartbeat race faster than a rabbit’s pace. She eyed Dr. Kelly through the crack in the door. The doctor seemingly returned to grab something before venturing back down the hallway.

As Dr. Kelly’s footsteps dwindled, Reese gently placed the item back on the shelf and loosened Julia from his grasp, “S-sorry, I think we’re in the clear. But we should head out before she comes back around.” 

Julia nodded as she pushed her bangs out of her eyes. She slid out of the closet after Reese, who began to rummage through the cabinets for the keys, “Awww, but I was having fun in there…” she teased, “We didn’t even get to play the game.”

Reese’s cheeks burned as he paused his search. “We can…spend more time together later on. As long as the doc hasn’t kicked you out yet.”

Julia glanced around as Reese continued to hunt for the keys. Her eyebrows furrowed as she spotted the castor beans displayed out on the table in the middle of the room. “Uh, why the hell does your mom have castor beans?”

“Yes! I found the keys!” Reese exclaimed triumphantly while shaking the jingling keys in one hand, “Wait, what’s this about beans? Oh, those weird little fruit things…” 

He glanced at them briefly before unlocking the cabinet to retrieve the axe and handing it over to Julia. “Here’s your axe. And I don’t know; I haven’t seen them before. I’m not allowed in the supply room. It’s probably some medicinal plant, right? She took out a chemistry set, too. Though…come to think of it…. she’s not supposed to make medicine. She’s not a pharmacist; this room is just storage for orders she gets from a pharmacist over in Brevard. Why would she bring something like that here?”

“Uh, that is not a medicinal plant by any means. It makes ricin, which is one of the deadliest known poisons to man…” Julia’s expression grew concerned.

“But…she can’t be using it for that. Right? Why would she give people poison?” Reese asked in utter disbelief.

“Oh my God, I was right. She has been poisoning you!” Julia exclaimed as the revelation came to light.

“Woah, woah…that can’t be it…” Reese looked bewildered at the thought. “L-Let’s not…” However, he thought back and realized that Dr. Kelly never explicitly told him what his medication was. 

“Hold on, maybe she has something lying around here about it… I have the keys…” He walked over to a drawer, unlocking it before retrieving a small notebook. 

Reese quickly flipped through the pages before the horror sank in. “This…is about me.” 

Julia peered over his shoulder as he continued to read the text about her documentation of Reese aloud. “Oh my god… Reese, I think we should take this notebook with us. This is evidence! Here, I can slip it inside my jacket.”

“I can’t believe this. That’s the poison she’s been using to make my medicine. Those castor beans…” Reese’s breath felt hitched in his throat from the utter shock. “I just…can’t believe it…H-here…” He shut the notebook before handing it over to her.

Reese’s head swiveled as he heard a noise come from the living room. “Shit. That was the door from the house. We’ve got to run.” He placed a hand on Julia’s shoulder, directing her out of the supply room toward the basement stairs, “I’ll meet you down in a few seconds. I’ll distract her.”

Julia descended down the stairs, gripping the axe tightly between her hands as she followed the pull of the seal. Once she reached the morgue, the sounds of Reese’s and the doctor’s voices carried down. 

Julia inhaled sharply as she stared up at the ceiling. “Just breathe, Julia… it’ll be okay…” She tried to soothe herself but felt the increasing anxiety rise in her chest after their shocking discovery.

After a few minutes, Reese soon joined her in the fluorescent room. “Hey,” he said softly.

“Are we ready to do this?” Julia asked, her hands twitching around the axe’s handle.

“I’d like to do the honors, if you don’t mind. I’ve got some confused and angry feelings I’d like to express…”

“Oh yeah, go for it.” Julia passed over the axe to him, almost hesitating, “Just be careful…”

Upon taking the axe, Reese headed toward the wall across from Julia. He swung the axe multiple times, striking the wall so effortlessly. His rage seemed to bubble beneath the surface as he continued. The drywall splintered under his relentless blows until the final one led to a massive hole in the wall.

"Wow…what the hell…” She walked over to his side to examine the new entrance.

 “Holy shit….” Reese pulled out his phone to shine his flashlight into the darkness. “There’s a whole hallway back here…”

“I guess the clinic has been harboring some secrets…” Julia peeked her head inside and wrinkled up her nose from the smell of it. She cautiously stepped forward, as Reese was close behind her.

“This is wild. I had no idea any of this was here. An entire hospital wing, rotting away for decades behind some flimsy drywall…” Reese looked around in awe, shining the bright flashlight in every corner of the hallway.

Reese’s voice began to drown out as Julia continued toward the seal. Her eyes grew intense as her feet moved as if they were on autopilot.

“Woah, are you okay?” Reese called out from behind her.

Julia could no longer hear the artist call her name. She tore into the wall with her bare hands, revealing the ancient stone seal before her. Upon seeing it, Julia’s eyes rolled back in the back of her head, and her body soon made contact with the floor.

 “Hey!” Reese rushed over and knelt down beside her. “Julia, can you hear me?” He shone the flashlight on her face as her body twitched for what felt like hours. He had heard from Stella that this had happened once before, so she should be okay, right?

Once he finally determined Julia was stable enough, Reese tucked his phone into his back pocket. He gently placed one of his arms under her legs and the other under her back. Slowly, he rose up with Julia in his arms.

 Cautiously, Reese made his way through the dark hallway before reentering the morgue. He squinted again at the bright light once more. He looked down to make sure she was still breathing and held her a bit tighter against him. Reese paused for a moment before exiting the room, listening for the sound of his mother’s footsteps nearby. Thankfully, the coast was clear.

Reese carried Julia into his room and delicately laid her down on his bed. He pushed her curtain bangs out of her eyes and draped a blanket on top of her so she wouldn’t get cold, “I hope you wake up soon…”

“Reese! Can you come up here!?” Dr. Kelly’s voice carried down the basement stairs, startling Reese.

“Shit…” Reese muttered irritably as he climbed up the stairs and headed into the kitchen area, “What is it, Doc?”

“You need to take your evening dose.” Dr. Kelly stated as she held the pill bottle up to him, “It’s almost eight o’clock. I didn’t want you to forget.”

“No,” Reese’s jaw clenched, “I’m not taking it.”

Dr. Kelly was completely taken aback by his sudden refusal.“What!? Reese, you need to take these! There’s no excuse—” 

“I’m not taking it! I told you no.” Reese snapped at her. “I’m going back to my room.” He turned his back on the doctor before quickly storming out.

Dr. Kelly’s eyes flashed with sudden fear as she hurried after him, “Reese!”

 However, Reese had already reached the basement before she got there in time. She approached the door and grabbed the handle, attempting to push it open. However, something seemed to be blocking it. 

The doctor laid her forehead against the wooden door. “Reese, please open the door!” Her tone was clearly exasperated by the situation. “No! Leave me alone!” Reese shouted at her furiously, “I’m NOT taking my medicine right now!”

Dr. Kelly’s expression shifted from frustration to utter fear. However, she didn’t want to trigger his anger even more and temporarily admitted defeat, “Fine. I’ll leave you alone for now. But we will talk about this later tonight.” She said before turning on her heel to walk away from the door.

Reese exhaled as he ran his slender fingers through his dark hair. He felt a strange sensation coursing through his body. It was as if the poison originally inhibited his true self. He felt more alive than anything. He needed to get out of this situation as soon as possible. His thoughts were soon disrupted after a soft groan from behind caught his attention; he turned to see Julia stirring awake. 

Reese felt relieved. “Hey! I was worried you might have slipped into a coma or something. You tore into that like a wild animal…then had some sort of seizure. Are you okay?”

Julia grunted as she slowly sat up, realizing that she was in Reese’s bed and not in the dilapidated hallway they had been in earlier. Rubbing her temples, she tried to reorient herself. “What ... how did I get here?”

“I carried you.” Reese stated.

“Wait, you carried me?” Julia looked very puzzled at the thought. She knew Reese had a fragile frame; it didn’t make sense for him to be able to have the strength to carry her all the way to his room.

“Yeah…it wasn’t super far or anything. I just picked you up and carried you. I may be sick a lot, but I’m not made of paper…” He rubbed the back of his head nervously.

“Well, I believe you.” Julia gave a flirtatious smirk as she leaned against the pillow. “I wish I had just been awake when you did that.”

Reese blinked, his cheeks flushing. “I could always put on a repeat performance for you…if that’s the sort of thing that you like.”

“Hmm, I’ll have to take you up on the offer. Anyway, does your mom know that I'm here?” Julia asked curiously.

“No. I snuck you back into the house while she was busy in the medical storage room. Figured you wouldn’t want to wake up in the morgue.” He sighed before glancing at Julia. “We might be stuck down here for a little bit. The doc is on a warpath up there. I refused to take my ‘medicine,’ and she’s not happy about it.” He pulled out the castor bean and rolled it between his fingers.

“I just don’t get why your mom has been poisoning you. I suspected it from that dinner we had, and she got really defensive when I called her out on it. Like, what does she really gain from this? Sympathy from others?” Julia questioned the doctor’s true motivations. 

“I don’t know. The thing is, I can’t figure out if she’s been trying to kill me slowly or if she just likes keeping me sick enough to be dependent on her.” Reese began to pace around the room. His movements were becoming very jittery as he kept running his hands through his hair.

Julia crossed her legs on the bed as she watched him move around. “What I don’t understand is how you’re still alive. Ricin is incredibly deadly.” 

“Again, I…don’t know. Maybe it’s low enough doses. Or maybe I developed a tolerance…” He responded, though his tone was rather doubtful. “But I think the fact that I feel more and more alive by the minute is enough proof that she was keeping me sick.”

Julia nodded at him, “Well, first, you and I need to get out of this basement. We also have evidence to go to the police about this. But definitely not these cops because they’re obviously incompetent.”

“You’re right… I do have the castor beans, and you have the notebook. But where would we go? Kaneeka is the only one with a car, and she’s not answering her phone. I don’t know anyone else.” Reese shoved his hands into his pockets, looking lost. “I don’t have any other family to go to. I never even finished high school. When I get out of this house, I don’t know how I can make sure I don’t wind up right back down here.”

Julia frowned as she felt truly sorry for him. He had been robbed of so much, and his situation was extremely unfair. “You can stay with me if you’d like,” she offered to him, “It’s just a rundown studio apartment in Boston. My only roommate is my beloved cat—Truck. It might take him a while to warm up, but I think he’ll like you.”

“Wow, that sounds amazing to be leaving this place and having the company of someone like you.’ Reese timidly looked down as a smile curled on his face. “Thanks, Julia. You have no idea how much this offer means to me. But I guess for now, we still need to pass some time before we can get out of here.”

Julia tapped her chin as she pondered what they could do in the basement for the next few hours. The first thought that came to her mind was far from innocent. Still, she didn’t mind teasing Reese, “We could always have sex.”

Reese almost choked at her suggestion, "W-what?” His pale face turned crimson red, his heart nearly leaping out of his chest.

Julia covered her mouth with her hand as she giggled. “The look on your face was priceless! I’m sorry, I just had to tease you a bit. I don’t think this is the best time or place to do something like that anyway. How about, instead, I be your model for a drawing?”

“O-oh yeah! I can totally do that. If you’re okay with sitting for a portrait. I’d love to draw you. I’ll get a chair!” Reese practically jumped up. He rushed out of the room to grab his sketchpad and a wooden chair. He returned moments later excitedly, as he gestured for her to sit down.

Reese settled across from Julia with a pencil in hand and the sketchpad resting on his lap. “Umm, may I touch your face?”

“Sure…” Julia smirked and nodded. She felt the gentle touch of his hand on her jaw, tilting her head slightly to the side. The warmth of his fingertips left an everlasting impression after he withdrew his hand.

“Perfect.” He smiled before locking his eyes with hers. 

Julia gently took his hand into hers. "Maybe you can study my face more closely…” She leaned towards him, keeping her other hand against his knee, grounding them in the moment. The tension between them had been simmering for a while.

Reese stood still as Julia leaned towards him. He felt his cheeks turning red, and his body began to tremble again. He had anticipated this for a while, even though this all felt like a dream. He reached back up, resting his trembling fingers against her cheek once more before leaning in.

Their lips were just inches apart from each other until a loud knock on the window shattered the moment. They both snapped their heads towards the sound, only to see a very familiar figure at the window—Wayne.

 Julia’s eyes flared in irritation at the sight of him. “Wayne, what the hell! Leave me alone!”

“Julia, don’t get closer to that thing. It’s time to go home.” Wayne’s eerie voice was calm.

“That voice… I—I know that voice!” Reese exclaimed as he gritted his teeth, looking up at Wayne before turning to Julia, “Is that who's been following you around!?”

“Yeah…that’s Wayne; he’s constantly been on my ass ever since I got here…” Julia grumbled.

Wayne proceeded to slam his heavy boot against the glass of the window, attempting to break into the basement, “I’m going to get you out.”

“Good luck, freak! That glass is shatterproof!” Reese shouted at him before looking back at Julia, “Enemies upstairs, enemies outside…we’re surrounded. Even if I get out of this house, I won’t be safe; you won’t be safe.” Reese’s hands landed on both of her shoulders, his blue irises glistening intensely.

“W-what do you mean?” Julia’s voice wavered, “Reese, Wayne is annoying, but he hasn’t hurt anyone. He’s not going to hurt you.”

“Yes, he will. He’s furious with me. Can’t you hear it?!” Reese erratically exclaimed, “But I’m not weak anymore. I can fight back. I don’t have to cower in fear from the people who want to hurt me. I can protect both of us, Julia.” He released his grip, stumbling away from her, both hands covering his face.

Within moments, the glass shattered as the shards rained on the basement floor. Julia jumped, her eyes beginning to widen. “Reese…”

Reese began to tear off the blue sweater with ease as his art came to life, peeling itself off the canvases and the walls. His body began to change—a tail protruding from his lower back, his nails extending into claws, and his canines growing in length.

Wayne extended his hand through the broken window. “Grab my hand; I’ll pull you out,” he ordered.

Julia’s breathing quickened as she gazed at Wayne, almost tempted to accept the offer for a moment. 

“Leave us alone!!” Reese growled as his transformation neared completion. Soon, the window became sealed to ward Wayne off from them.

“Oh my God….” Julia's body began to tremble from the shock as she took a step backward.

“We aren’t safe. But… I feel strong now. I think I can save us.” Reese placed his hand on her cheek, caressing it, “Stay here; I’ll be right back. I just have to deal with the doc.” He then stormed up the stairs.

With trembling hands, Julia took her cellphone out, dialing her cousin’s number, “Fuck! Pick up, pick up…” She bit down on her fingernail as she waited for Tabitha to answer.

“Hey, where are you?” Tabitha’s concerned voice answered, “I’ve been waiting for you so we can have ice cream—”

“What do you know about Reese?” Julia’s voice was laced with panic.

“That dying emo kid? Just that he’s been dying for like, a decade. And he smells weird…why do you ask?” Tabitha suddenly gasped at the realization, utterly appalled, “Oh, ew, are you hanging out with him!? I’m generally of the mind that you can see whoever you want, but I have to draw the line somewhere. You of all people should have better standards than Reese. I’m coming to pick you up!”

Julia rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Okay, but did you know that he can transform into some kind of a monster? Because he can.”

“Noted.” Tabitha hung up the call.

Julia shoved her phone back into her back pocket and bolted up the stairs to try to find the doctor. She scanned the hallways, searching around for any sign of them. “Dr. Kelly!?” 

Suddenly, Doctor Kelly emerged from the shadows of the hallway, pointing a firearm in Julia’s direction. “Duck!” she shouted.

“Don’t shoot!” Julia held her hands up and looked away. The dart whizzed past her ear before striking Reese in the chest.

Reese was pressed against the wall as he yanked the dart out effortlessly. “You’ll have to try harder than that, you b-” His words cut off at the sight of Wayne, dropping the dart from his fingers. “No ... how did you ...?”

Wayne slowly descended down the stairs before gazing at Reese, “As if you could stop me, you pathetic waste of flesh.” But before he could reach the bottom, his descent was halted by Reese’s smears holding him in place.

Dr. Kelly seized her chance to sprint back down the hallway as Reese darted away to the side to escape from Wayne.

Julia quickly followed behind the doctor as she dodged the smears grasping at her feet, “Oh my God… Dr. Kelly!? Where are you!?”

“Hey.” Dr. Kelly’s voice crackled over the intercom, “You. Julia. I’m stuck in the safe room. I can’t help you from here, but you can help both of us.”

Julia exhaled loudly, “What the hell is going on!?”

“I think you can put that together yourself. I need you to get to the medical storage room. I’ll give you instructions when you’re there.”

“Ugh! Fine!” Julia turned around, heading toward the room per the doctor’s instructions. Once she entered, she made her presence known to Dr. Kelly.

“Great. Now, listen to me. I need you to use the black taped key to get into the cabinet and grab the elephant tranquilizers.”

“Oh my god, what in the world is your plan here!?” Julia questioned the doctor, “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Julia, I need you to listen to me and not question everything.” Dr. Kelly snapped at her.

Reese appeared in the doorway before Julia could respond back, “Oh, an intercom system, huh, doc? Good, you should hear this. Julia, you don’t have to do anything she says. I’m not going to hurt anybody else. Just her.” He curled his claws against the wall.

Julia shook her head at him, “No…I know you’re angry, but I’m not going to let you kill somebody, Reese. This isn’t right.” She didn’t know if she could reason with him in this form, but she was willing to try.

“Why not? It wasn’t right what she did to me. Poisoning me my whole life…she wasn’t afraid that I might die.” A low growl rumbled in his throat.

Dr. Kelly interrupted over the intercom system, “Reese, that isn’t true. I’ve always been careful with your medication. I want you to live. I love you—”

“Tell yourself whatever lies you have to, ‘Mom.’” Reese spat furiously, “If you wanted a good relationship, you had your chance, and you decided to convince me that I was dying instead of just letting me exist.”

“Reese—” Julia began to speak but was cut off.

“Enough!” Wayne intervened, striking Reese’s shoulder. The monster screeched in pain before staggering down the hall.

“I’ll handle this, Julia. Try to get somewhere safe until then.” Wayne ordered before going after Reese.

“Quick! Grab the tranquilizers and meet me in the safe room!” Dr. Kelly said, clearly exasperated. 

Julia exhaled again before rummaging for the key and finding it with ease. She unlocked the cabinet and grabbed the tranquilizers. She bolted out of the room and down the hallway.

The safe room loomed ahead, its door still covered by the painted smears. Dr. Kelly heaved the door open, ushering Julia inside, “Hurry!”

Julia lunged through the door as Dr. Kelly slammed it shut. A stray smear had managed to slip in but met its fate by the doctor’s boot.

“It sounds like Reese and your friend are still fighting. We have a few minutes before he gets here,” the doctor muttered, leaning against the wall before shooting Julia a piercing look. “I warned you to stay away from Reese on more than one occasion. But did you listen? No.”

“I don’t think you’re in any position to talk, considering you’ve been poisoning him his entire life. But forgive me for actually liking your son and caring about him.” She placed her hands on her hips, glaring the doctor down, “I know you think I’m some sort of fucking whore. I heard all about the rumors Pearlanne spread about me. But in case you’re wondering, I haven’t done anything with him, even though all the opportunities were there.”

Dr. Kelly rubbed the bridge of her nose as she groaned, “You barely know Reese. I was just worried that having you around would make things worse, as you can clearly see. I could tell he likes you, and you are completely relentless as it is…Like I said before, you are a lot like your mother.”

“Oh, so did you hate her, too?” Julia scoffed as she crossed her arms.

“No, Vivian and I were friends…” The doctor’s face softened as she began to reminisce on the good times. “She was nice, and I can see you’ve inherited her sarcasm. But, yes, you remind me of her a lot. It makes me miss her.”

“Wow…I never would have thought…Wait, why are you so mean to me, then!?” Julia huffed. “Julia, I’ve stated before I don’t want you meddling in with my son.” The doctor rolled her eyes.

“Well, kind of too late for that. We both really like each other, and I think you’re going to have to accept I might be Mrs. Kelly in the future. I know Vivian would be happy to see her daughter marry her friend’s son.” Julia smirked as she teased her. She just wanted to make light of their current situation.

Dr. Kelly’s eye twitched, “You barely know him. Especially to be thinking about marriage of all things when he’s coming in here trying to kill me.”

It’s okay, Dr. Kelly. I know you’ll come around to me being your future daughter-in-law eventually,” Julia gave a sly smile, “But anyway, enough about me. I have some questions about Reese that you really should answer.”

The doctor gave a long sigh. “Oh my goodness….you are….nevermind. Fine, I have nothing to hide, and since we’re in this situation, you can ask away.” 

Julia proceeded to ask her questions about Reese, to which the doctor provided answers for each of them. She began to understand a bit about the doctor’s thought process and how Reese really came to be, despite the mystery component surrounding his alleged father. However, the strangest part was the person who recommended the ricin. Julia swore Dr. Kelly mentioned the name, but it seemed like her brain had blocked it out. Perhaps it was a defense mechanism as a result of the persistent trauma she had endured.

After their conversation ended, Julia sat against the stark white wall with her arms wrapped around her knees as she stared at the ceiling. The doctor fidgeted with the tranquilizer gun, preparing for the confrontation happening soon. Julia exhaled sharply through her nose, trying to steady her racing heart. She had witnessed a whirlwind of horrors in the past few days and didn’t know how much more she could take. 

“So you plan to lock up Reese in here?” Julia finally asked, “Like, what do you plan to do with him?” 

“It’s my best option,” the doctor responded bluntly. “I can’t risk him being out there, especially when he has the capacity to kill someone. This room will contain him until I can get him to reason with me.” 

“Wow, I see no flaws in that plan.” Julia stated sarcastically, rolling her eyes. She stood up and walked over to Dr. Kelly’s side. “This is wrong, and you know it. Let me talk to him.”

“You already tried that, and he didn’t listen, did he!? You wouldn’t understand unless you were in my position. I’ve already told you everything I’ve gone through,” Dr. Kelly’s irritation was evident in her tone. “Do you have the tranquilizers ready?”

“Yeah yeah…” Julia let out a low grumble and kept them inside the pocket of her leather jacket. She felt torn at that moment. She didn’t want Reese to kill his mother, but locking him up in this prison cell felt equally as cruel.

As they waited, a low guttural growl echoed around the corridor that was followed by the heavy thud of Reese’s footsteps nearing them. Panic clawed inside Julia’s chest as her breathing began to speed up again.

In response, Dr. Kelly swung the door open and aimed the tranquilizer gun at her son. “Hand me the tranquilizers now! This is our shot!”

Julia inhaled and exhaled in short breaths as her eyes widened in fear at the sight of Reese in front of them. Her heart pounded violently in her chest at the life-changing decision she was about to make. She had witnessed Duke’s death, Rosalina’s accident, the vengeful ghost of Charles Shaw Jr., and now, potentially, the death of the town’s doctor. She shut her eyes for a split second in an attempt to drown out the chaos around her.

Upon opening them, Julia realized she was no longer in the safe room. The sounds of beeping machinery rang in her ears as she was surrounded by bare walls. “Dr. Kelly…?” She looked around confused.

 Ahead of her was a white curtain with the silhouette of a bed behind it. She realized that she was in a hospital room. Slowly, her feet moved toward the curtain, and with a shaky hand, she grabbed the edge of the fabric. Julia yanked it back to reveal the person behind it.

A sickly Vivian looked back at her from her hospital bed. The light in her eyes was starting to dim.  Her breathing slowed down as she mumbled incoherently. She reached out and gripped Julia’s hand weakly. It was that night that she had taken her last breath.

“Mom?” Julia’s voice wavered. She didn’t want to be reliving this moment again.

Vivian didn’t respond as her brown eyes bore into hers. 

“Mom….” Julia repeated her name once more as she felt her chest grow heavier by the second.

A dead silence filled in the air between them before the monitor emitted a screeching sound. 

 “Mom!” she screamed, tears falling down her face as she shook Vivian’s frail shoulders, “Wake up, please don’t leave me! I don’t want to be alone!” 

“Did you hear me!?” Dr. Kelly’s voice yanked Julia back into the present. Julia gawked at the doctor and pulled out the darts clenched in her hand. 

“Give me the darts, NOW!” Dr. Kelly gritted her teeth.

A tear streamed down Julia’s cheek as Reese approached closer to them. She had made her choice at that moment.

“No.” Julia shook her head in response to Dr. Kelly, shoving past her. 

“Do you have a death wish!? Get back here!” Dr. Kelly shouted as she reached out to try to grab her.

Julia ignored Dr. Kelly’s pleas as she walked up in front of the monster. She felt her chest constrict as she tried to slow down her breathing. This was a dangerous idea, but she had to trust that Reese wouldn’t hurt her.

Reese halted his rampage and tilted his head in confusion as his glowing eyes locked in on her tear-streaked face. “Julia…?”

Julia’s lip quivered as she tried to contain her emotions. She slowly shook her head at him, “No…no…” She repeated as tears continued to fall.

“What…are you doing?” He asked solemnly. 

Julia tried to keep her voice steady. “You can’t do this…. I—I can’t let you kill her. I know you’re angry, and you have every right to be.” She bit her quivering lip, trying to contain her emotions, “But this will be a permanent decision you’ll regret. You’ve been through enough already; I don’t want you to carry this pain too.” However, the sobs finally wracked her body as she broke down in front of him.

Reese’s expression twisted in sadness at the sight of her. He glanced over at his mother for a brief moment, who stood frozen in shock. He slowly extended a clawed hand to comfort her. 

“I’m—” Reese was soon interrupted as a bullet cascaded into the side of his face.

Blood sprayed across a stunned Julia as Reese slumped against the damaged wall. Trembling, she lifted a hand to her cheek and looked back at the crimson droplets on her fingers. 

Tabitha rushed in with Pearlanne’s shotgun in hand, getting ready to fire several more rounds into the poor monster. “Julia, get the hell away from that thing!”

Julia’s hazel eyes widened in terror as Reese whimpered in excruciating agony. No, she was not going to lose him, too. She threw herself between the monster and the barrel of the gun.

“Oh my God… Oh my God…” Julia knelt down as she gently pressed her palm against his regenerating wound. “Reese…”

“Julia, move out of the way! What the hell are you doing?!” Tabitha barked at her, waving the shotgun.

Julia’s eyes blazed in fury. She snapped up to confront her cousin. “Don’t you dare fucking touch him!”

Tabitha recoiled at Julia’s response. She had never seen her act this hostile towards her before. “What has gotten into you!? He’s—”

“My fucking boyfriend!” Julia cut her off.

“He’s your WHAT!?” Tabitha exclaimed as her face twisted in horror. Even Dr. Kelly looked perplexed at the very comment.

“Back off, Tabitha, this is none of your business. Let me handle this.” Dr. Kelly called out to her.

“Oh sure, because you were doing such a good job. That thing was about to eat my cousin!” Tabitha retorted.

As the two of them went back and forth, Julia knelt back down beside Reese. “I’m still here. It’ll be okay.”

“Julia, quick, he’s fixing himself! I don’t care if you’re a nurse; you don’t know what you’re doing! Get out of the way, or I’ll make you—” Tabitha motioned with the shotgun again at her.

However, Reese jumped to his feet and shoved past Tabitha. He held the side of his face as he navigated his way back down the hallway.

“What in the ever-loving hell…” Tabitha bellowed.

Reese reached the end of the hallway, pausing before staring longingly at Julia and suddenly vanishing into the shadows.

Julia took a couple of steps forward with her hand reaching out for him, “Reese! Wait….” 

“Shit!” Dr. Kelly rushed over to their side. “Come on, we can’t lose him!” The three rushed after him down the hallway. However, they arrived in the living room; they were greeted by the wide-open front door—Reese was long gone.

“Great job, Julia. I hope keeping your ‘boyfriend’ safe was worth setting a monster free on the unsuspecting populace.” Tabitha huffed as she crossed her arms.

“If you had just given me the tranquilizers, this would have been over by now.” Dr. Kelly sighed at her.

“And you would have locked him away forever.” Julia retorted, “I don’t regret what I did. I saved you, remember?”

“I would have been able to reason with him eventually.” Dr. Kelly grumbled at her but knew she was right. “Maybe this is for the best. I will try to figure things out tomorrow. It’s best that the two of you leave now.”

“Come on, Julia, let’s go.” Tabitha said, as the two made their way toward the exit.

“Also, not a word of this to anyone, or there will be hell to pay!” Dr. Kelly threatened.

Julia and Tabitha silently nodded before making their way into the empty night. The leaves crunched under their feet, and the crickets chirped around them as they proceeded to Tabitha’s car.

Julia kept her hands shoved into the pockets of her jacket. She stopped in her tracks before turning around to look at Tabitha, staring at her silently.

“Are…you okay?” Tabitha raised a concerned eyebrow.

Julia walked over and wrapped Tabitha in a tight embrace.

Tabitha jolted in surprise by the sudden hug. “What are you—”

Julia proceeded to sob into Tabitha’s shoulder, “I’m sorry, I’ve been messing up so badly. It seems like everything bad has been happening since I’ve got here. I’m sorry, Tabitha. I can understand if you hate me because of it.”

Tabitha didn’t know how to react; it wasn’t something she was used to. She gently patted her back. “It’s okay…. I mean, you keep putting yourself in these situations…But it’s not always your fault, you know…and I don’t hate you.”

“Really?” Julia sniffed as she released her from the hug.

“If I hated you, I would have never rescued your ass on multiple occasions.” She placed her hands on her hips. “Plus…you did get rid of the ghost in the library and saved Dr. Kelly. I guess you saved that thing you call a boyfriend, too. So, you’ve done some good.” 

“Thanks…but Reese is not a thing.” Julia rolled her eyes at Tabitha. “Give him a chance. You rarely interacted with the poor guy. Plus, he might end up being family in the future.”

“What—family!? I will not consider him as family.” Tabitha scoffed in disbelief, “Now, don’t tell me you’re going to elope after the funeral!” Julia snickered as she wiped a tear from her eye. “I’m just pulling your leg, Tabby. But you can be a bridesmaid in the future if that’s what you’re asking.”

Tabitha rolled her eyes, “It’s a good thing you’re growing on me, you know.”

“Well, I can say the same,” Julia smiled at her before her expression turned solemn again, “Though it’s been an emotionally exhausting day….and we still have to find Stella.”

Tabitha rubbed her chin as she pondered, “I think I might know where she is. Let’s get going.”

Julia nodded as she followed Tabitha into the car to go search for their friend. Once inside, she rested her head against the car window before gazing at her reflection in the rearview mirror. She hoped Reese was okay and enjoying his new freedom.

[justanamesstuff]

To be with you, that's all I want - M.H

Matty Healy x reader!DHassistant A/N: and one day she returned posting. For how long? Who knows! Lol...I hope you guys enjoy it! It's something i've started to write ages ago and thought for this 'returning I'll edit one of the drafts i have'. I promise soon I'll post the 'All I Need'!! <33 Let me know what you think! this has a second part 🤭

Warnings: angst, hurt feelings, typos.

Word count: 1.7 K

Blog MASTERLIST

January 

Matty couldn’t help himself, he wanted to keep kissing her until the lack of air broke them apart. Kissing Y/n become an obsession he just wanted to enjoy and not think it was ethically right or wrong. ‘I’ll think about it later”, Matty repeated inside his head, meanwhile his hands roamed around her naked back. The pleasure of having her inside his bed, in his house. 

On the other hand, the kiss didn’t intoxicate Y/n’s mind as much as his when the constant thought she had been having for weeks pushed to be at the front of her mind. Y/n softly placed a hand on the centre of his chest. Matty retreat his face centimetres away from Y/n’s.

She spoke first, “We shouldn’t, Matty.” the sorrow tinting her voice didn’t reach him. 

“What we shouldn’t, baby?” he asked, totally enamorated by her. 

“We need to stop.”

That phrase hit him fully. Matty leaned back –although still touching her–, giving Y/n enough freedom to move away and out of the bed. 

“What are you talking about, Y/n?” Matty spat hurt.

She didn’t even look at him. Too nervous about what she would found in them. Y/n didn’t felt the urge Matty was feeling inside his heart, which pumped hard and fast. 

“I’m not judging you or anything, but you’re just messing around, and I-” Y/n tried explaining her thoughts. Although, the words she had been thinking on for weeks, the speeches she had been rehearsing were nowhere to be found inside her head. 

After giving Y/n the space to keep talking, but annoyed about her position, Matty urged to keep going, “You?”

“I want something serious, Matty. You don’t want that.” Y/n directly told him, resuming her worries. 

“Maybe I’d want it with you?” the singer knew what he wanted, even though he wasn’t sure about her, making his mouth and mind twist the words. 

His position confirmed Y/n’s fears.

“But you don’t want it now, Matty.” she said, pulling her jumper down. “I know myself. If we keep this going, I’ll catch feelings…and it would mess everything between us, I don’t want that.”

“So, you just decided for the both of us?” the anger building in Matty’s stomach.

“Matty, come on.” for the first time since she exited the comfort of his bed, Y/n looked into his brown eyes. 

“What?” he was obviously pissed.

“Please, understand.” she begged.

“I want you.”

She didn’t believe him. “Yeah, now…but be sincere, with you, with me…you don’t want a relationship right now, and it’s okay.”

Matty couldn’t stop the words falling from his lips. “I don’t know. Maybe-” 

The singer was in a complicated position. He wanted her, but Matty didn’t want to push Y/n to do something she was so clearly against to. And above all for the sake of his ego he wasn’t going to beg. 

“Maybe it’s not enough, Matty.”

“Y/n…”

“I think- I better go.”

“No, don’t leave, angel.”

“I’ll see you later, Matty.”

“Y/n!”

Matty fell back, hearing the front door closed with a big sound. 

—----------------------------------------------

March

Y/n searched between all the documents placed in front of her. Jaime had asked for some of them because those had to be signed by Monday. As the perfect assistant she was, Y/n would never leave those for the last minute. 

Also, on Monday, she wanted to stay in the safety of her little office. The guys would be back home by Monday for a brief time until they had to return to the USA. 

For the last two months, Y/n had been away from the band and specially from Matty. During the first week, he tried to contact her countless times, but Y/n decided to stay strong on her decision. It was for the better.

****

Once Y/n spotted the documents Jaime requested and her computer was off, since handed the papers were the last task for the day, she walked the short way from her office to Jaime’s. 

While she was walking, Y/n thought about the multiple outfit options for her plans that night. She wasn’t overly excited about them, but her friends and therapist insisted on starting to go out and meet new people. 

****

At the same time, Y/n knocked and opened the big door. 

“Jamie?”

“Come in.” the manager said out of habit. 

“Um, here are the docu-” Y/n’s eyes moved from the documents on her hand to the desk occupying the room. Jaime wasn’t alone. “Hey.” Y/n greeted him. 

“Hi.” Matty spoke, making her heart burst. 

Y/n didn’t know what to add, so her attention returned to Jamie. “Yeah- Um, here are the document you-”

Jaime cut her short, “What are you doing still here, Y/n?” his tone was warm but stern. 

“I was finishing this.” Y/n could feel Matty’s eyes on her, although she kept hers on Jaime, since she was a bit bewildered about his question.

“It wasn’t urgent.”

“I know, but I wanted to finish it.”

“Okay, thank you…go home, Y/n. Enjoy your weekend!” he urged her with a smile.

Y/n obeyed, without saying more than a quick, “Thanks.” 

****

Her heart was moving fast and her skin tingling when Y/n started arranging her office, so she could leave as soon as possible.

Y/n didn’t close the door after she entered her office, so the sound startled her. Matty was inside, staring directly at her. 

“Are you in a rush?” he folded his arms in front of his chest. 

Matty looked the same as she remembered, and at the same time a stranger. Two months can change you from head to toe. 

“Yes…kinda. I’ve somewhere to be-”

“You were ignoring me. I’ve trying to reach out to you since I landed home.”

Y/n looked inside the bag she was meant to close, noticing her phone showing a good amount of notifications. She had been ignoring the phone, keeping the world and specially her friends constantly talking about the date. 

“I’ve been busy, like you, I guess.” Y/n spat. 

“Why are you angry?”

“I’m not.”

“Sure, Y/n. You’re really happy to see my face after two long months…”

She checked –again– if the computer was off and her belongings inside her bag before looking at Matty. 

“I need to go now.”

“Running away again…you mean.” Y/n felt her cheeks warmer than before because he was right, she was trying to scape his presence. 

“I’m not-”

“Where are you going?” Matty asked her without embarrassment.

Y/n answered cryptic, “I have…plans.”

“You never have plans on Fridays.” Matty accusing her of lying pissed her.

“You haven’t been around for the past two months. You don’t know what’s going on with my-”

The singer interrupted her, “Then tell me.”

“I don’t want to. I don’t have to, Matty.” Y/n said, rounding her desk, reaching for the door. Matty didn’t move a single muscle of his body, blocking her way out. “Matty, move.” Y/n asked, trying to keep her composure. 

“No.”

Matty knew how to drive her insane. “You can be so childish!”

“Let me take you home.” he offered, with a tone that showed second intentions. 

“I’m not going home.”

Y/n couldn’t help to avoid feeling pulled towards him. Having Matty so close after so long did big damage to her senses. 

“Where then?”

She wasn’t telling him.

“Please, move.”

“Y/n…”

“I have a date, okay? Are you happy now? Move!”

“With whom?”

Y/n looked up to his eyes, starting with a, “Not your-”

Although he cut her short, “Oh, yes, it’s my fucking business!”

“You’re such a hypocrite.” she fought back. 

Matty knew what she was referring, even though chose keeping insisting. “Tell me his name, Y/n.”

“Matty, I’m begging you…let me go.”

“No.”

“Don’t do this to me.”

“Name.”

“Fuck- Sam.” 

Sam was a friend of the guys, he was closer with Ross than with the rest, and someone Matty knew fancied Y/n for the longest. 

“No…he didn’t dare-”

“Happy? Move.”

“Fuck no, Y/n. You’re not going.” Matty spoke like he was some authority over her, or her boyfriend or someone close. Someone he had never been to her or wanted to.

Y/n didn’t hesitate to scream, “Who the fuck do you think you are, Matty?”

“Since when?” Matty wanted to know how long the bastard waited for asking her on a date.

“Since…it’s not your business, Healy.”

“It is if the jackass is trying to steal you from-“

“Steal me from you? Am I an object now? ‘Course I am…what else would I be to you?” the dry laugh burned her from the inside out. 

“Y/n, I didn’t mean it like-“

“Like what then, ha? Please, Matty!” Y/n scoffed, pushing him to the side. 

“Please, don’t go.” the singer tried stopping her while pushing the door close. He was scared of touching her. 

“I can’t believe you’re doing this, here…right now.” she said, with her eyes closed. Maybe it was a nightmare. 

“What do you mean?”

“May I remind you of her? Have you lost your mind?”

Matty has been on every single magazine, portal, news website and so on for the last two months. Stuff she had to go through every single day for the last two months since one of her tasks at work was keeping updated on the public opinion about the band. He perfectly knew that. 

The reason behind it was his relationship with a worldwide known celebrity. A girl that was everything she would never be. They had been cut it short after a heated romance –or that reported the different sites and fan accounts all over the internet.

“She’s not- We’re not…you know.” Matty tried. 

“Yes, I know you chose her. You chose to be with her, after telling me you might want to be… remotely be with me-“

“And you rejected me!”

His world made her open her eyes once more. “Oh! So I pushed you to be with her?! That’s what you mean? Perfect.”

“No, no. You are twisting my words.” Matty accused her. She couldn’t believe the man. 

“I can’t do this right now, and I don’t want to do it later. I couldn’t care less.” Y/n wasn’t sure if her words were directed to Matty, her, or both. 

“Stay, please. We can fix this.” he begged. 

“Healy, there were never a ‘we’.” Y/n stated, cold. “Good luck with her or whatever.” 

In a quick move, Y/n walked fast, moving far from him. Matty stood in the middle of the hallway, looker her leave him behind…again. 

To be continued...