#i need to work on letting my thoughts flow freely again.. instead of all these controlled thoughts about what i should do and how and when

[pl4n]

clouds

[zeroeightzeroone]

lover of mine - bang chan

genre: angst, hurt/comfort

pairings: idol!bang chan x female reader

warnings: none

notes: if this looks familiar, it was originally posted to my secondary blog @zerothreetwentyfive so i'm republishing everything here on my main blog.

wc ~3k|moodboard

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:

"i'll never give you away, 'cause i've already made that mistake,

if my name never fell off your lips again, i know it'd be such a shame.

when i take a look at my life, and all of my crimes, you're the only thing that I think I got right."

lover of mine - 5 seconds of summer

you always thought that the next time chan would be making you cry would be at your wedding ceremony.

initially, you would try to hold in your tears, just enough so that you weren't full-on sobbing and ruining your makeup. eventually failing as the tears flow freely listening to the man tell you the moment he fell in love with you, the moment he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you and the promises he vows to keep forever. chan's eyes would never leave yours as you exchanged vows; in that moment, only you and chan existed, the proclamation and celebration of your love were the only things that mattered.

instead, here you are crying over chan. sitting in the driver's seat of your car, sobbing over the man who once said he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, now not wanting to fight for that future anymore.

…

"you're doing it again."

the sound of your best friend's voice snaps you out of your thoughts, attention now on the girl sitting across from you, "huh?"

she reaches over and places her hand on yours with a sympathetic smile on her face. no words are needed from her to make you realize what you were doing whilst zoning out; fiddling around with your ring finger. a habit you picked up after chan proposed, and a habit that hadn't changed even without the band on your finger; your fingers instinctively moving to spin and twist a non-existent ring.

"right," you clear your throat awkwardly.

your hands slipping out from under hers, sliding them under your thighs hoping that maybe sitting on your hands would work against the habit.

"how are you?"

the word 'lost' feels like an understatement. the word couldn't encapsulate even a quarter of your feelings.

you felt directionless, overwhelmed by the constant switch between emotions: anger, frustration, sadness, and denial, it left you exhausted. day by day, you only grew more emotionally drained, the desire to feel nothing only intensifying.

the mere thought of the dimpled man gave you whiplash, your heart and your head conflicting with each other and your feelings pulling you from one end to the other. you couldn't pinpoint exactly how you felt about him.

god, you wished that you didn't even think about him.

you wished that you weren't plagued by the thought of him at every waking moment. everything reminded you of him, everything brought you back to the memory of how easy it was for him to let you, the person he proclaimed to want to spend the rest of his life with, to watch them walk out the door, to just give up without a fight.

why couldn't it have been easy for you too? why couldn't you just let him go the way he did you? forget him like he meant absolutely nothing?

as much as you wished it was, you knew it wouldn't be easy to move on from chan.

your early adulthood started with chan, moving in with him almost a year and a half after you started dating. he became a part of your routine and you became part of his; there was a time when your day didn't feel complete without hearing a goodnight from him or getting that goodnight kiss. your lives were intertwined, and your future plans were intertwined.

you believed chan was your future. he made you believe that you would write the next chapters of your lives together, that you two would be side by side on the road to forever. you envisioned your future with chan, without him you've hit a crossroads, struggling to navigate where to go from here. you were scared.

scared to learn what the future holds for you, scared to take a step towards a future without him.

on top of all that came public attention.

the news about your breakup hadn't been confirmed by chan or jyp entertainment. regardless that didn't stop the speculations and rumours that came with the lack of seeing you and chan in public together, seeing you without your ring, and other proofs fans would dig up. the algorithm also working against you as whenever you refreshed social media, the first couple of posts would be news articles, headlines and what have you, discussing the speculations.

'did stray kids' bang chan and his long term girlfriend call it quits?'

'fans of stray kids speculate bang chan and his partner have called off the engagement'

'netizens react to alleged proofs that bang chan and long term girlfriend have split up'

'breaking: did stray kids' bang chan and girlfriend split up? here's why fans are wondering about the status of the long-term couple'

your comments were flooded with questions regarding the rumours, mourning fans hoping that they were baseless and haters congratulating you on setting the man free. you wondered why the news hadn't been spoken about by chan or any official representatives but the speculations drove you to log out of social media. the realization that one day the articles and headlines will change from 'speculations' to 'confirmations' the anticipation and anxiety driving you insane.

you look back up to your friend, your lips pursed together in a small smile as you reply:

"i'm fine."

…

"chan hyung!"

the boy pulls the pillow up and over his head, trying to block out the noises from outside the door. hoping that the longer he ignored, the realization that he wanted to be alone would sink in and everyone would leave him be. that hope was short-lived as the door swung open.

"chan hyung!" changbin calls from his spot at the door, "you need to eat something."

from where he's standing, changbin watches chan groan out a response from under the pillow, making no effort to get up and go eat something. changbin's eyes drift to the older boy's bedside table, a picture frame is lying face down (probably a photo of you), and sitting on top of the frame is a gold band with a large diamond: your engagement ring. the sight of the band sitting on chan's bedside table and not on your finger has a small frown adorning changbin's lips.

"hyung, i know it's hard but please. you need to take care of yourself too," the younger boy sighs, "locking yourself in your room won't do anyone good."

of course, it wasn't easy for them to see chan in such a state.

chan had always been the one putting up a strong front, walking around with his head up no matter the circumstances as the leader. but these past couple of weeks, whenever chan was out of the public eye he'd walk with his head down, dragging his feet, no words leaving him. almost like he's being forced to be anywhere outside of his bedroom.

the members in the other dorm were curious about their leader, wondering how he'd been holding up but chan stopped replying to the group chat. it got to the point where the members made a chat without chan, using that to ask jisung, changbin and hyunjin how the older one was doing.

for as long as you were in chan's life, you were also in the member's lives. the news of the breakup came as a shock to them as well. they were all curious as to how you were doing too, but were hesitant to ask you directly for fear of making things harder for you. you met all of them through chan, and seeing their names pop up on your phone may just be another reminder of your ex.

changbin's eyes are on chan as the older boy takes the pillow off his head, slowly sitting up on the bed, feet hitting the floor but making no move to stand up. instead he's slouched over, head in his hands and sighing.

"do you, uh…" chan's voice barely above a whisper, "do you think i made a mistake?"

changbin shuts the door behind him hearing chan's question, realizing right now his friend needed someone to talk to before, maybe, going to eat something.

leaning against the door, he replies, "what do you mean?"

"w– was proposing… a mistake?"

"do you feel like it was a mistake?"

chan shakes his head, "no."

"did you mean everything you said when you proposed?"

"yes."

"then it wasn't a mistake."

chan lifts his head out of his hands, head turning to the younger boy leaning at the door. even in the dim purple lighting of chan's room, changbin can see how glossy his eyes are, how the bags under his eyes have gotten more prominent since yesterday.

"was… was letting her go," chan's voice shaky, "a mistake?"

changbin pushes himself off the door, making his way to sit next to his hyung on the bed. a comforting hand moving to chan's back.

"that's a question only you can answer," changbin's lips are pursed to one side, a sympathetic look in his eyes as he continues, "did it feel like a mistake at the time?"

"i- i thought i was doing the right… thing," chan's voice pitches higher at the end, questioning his own answer, "when i came home, an–and saw the dinner table, full of food she made for us. when she told me everything she was feeling, the look i-in her eyes."

chan loves your eyes, it's by far his favourite thing about you.

looking into your eyes had him falling in love with you before he even knew it. looking into them made it feel as if he was looking into your soul, almost like your eyes could tell him what your words couldn't. chan's day would immediately be flipped upside down just at the sight of your eyes, a shitty day becoming the best day when he caught a glimpse of those radiant, warm pools of life, your eyes sparkling with a zest and excitement for life that sent a wave of comfort over him. whenever he looked at you, that glimmer of hope in your eyes made him feel like everything would be okay.

but that night, the look in your eyes that night is seared into chan's memory. haunting him whenever he closes his eyes, whenever his eyes fall on your ring sitting on his bedside table.

that night when you told him just how lonely you'd been feeling, how you felt like he was treating you like the help and not as his fiancé; those words knocked some sense into chan. the harsh reality glaring him down: he had been falling short in your relationship. he had been so blind to that fact for who knows how long, listening to you had chan wallowing in guilt.

at one point chan felt like he was a third person watching everything go down, but it felt like he was watching you and a whole different person. he wondered why he wasn't saying anything, why he couldn't move, why he couldn't feel anything other than guilt eating him alive.

when he looked into your eyes, that's when everything came crashing down.

the eyes that once gleamed up at him, washing a wave of comfort and reassurance through his body were boring into his own. the contrast had his blood running cold. the sight of your hollow and dull orbs gazing up at him, even the sources of light around you did nothing to bring back that sparkle. the way your eyes looked incredibly sunken in, tired, swimming with distress as they searched his. he wondered how he hadn't seen the change before.

a change that happened because of him. the light in your eyes is gone all thanks to him. he wanted to be the one to preserve and make sure your eyes light up for the rest of your life, but instead he's the reason you look defeated. he couldn't handle the guilt eating him up at the sight.

"i-i broke her," chan whispers, "you could see it in her eyes how my shortcomings, the ones i was too blind and stupid to notice… that broke her. i broke her."

changbin doesn't say anything.

"i thought it would be better for me to let her go… get her away from me who was sucking the life out of her," chan's hands run through his hair, "she deserves so much more than me."

the older boy cries. his thoughts, feelings, everything just clouded with you.

"hyung," changbin's tone is soft, feeling out the atmosphere, "don't you think that it's sucking the life out of her even more, to be away from you?"

this time chan is the one who doesn't say anything.

"she wanted you to stay, she wanted you to convince her to stay."

"convince me to stay… please."

"i'm sorry."

"yes. from what you told us the day after you broke up, she does deserve better."

changbin's words send a dagger to chan's heart.

"but don't you want to be the one she deserves?"

chan's head turns to look at changbin.

"you need to work to be better, to be the one y/n deserves. that's what she wants, she wants you hyung."

"… m-me?"

"she wouldn't have said yes to marrying you if she didn't want you for the rest of her life."

…

your plan for the day was to wake up around noon, order some takeout or ransack your best friend's freezer for some food (and ice cream), chill on the couch and watch some netflix. instead you're jolted awake, at ten in the morning, by pounding at the front door.

rolling your eyes in annoyance, stretching your arm out, feeling around before grasping a pillow and clutching it over your head, trying your hardest to block out the noises and fall asleep. hoping the longer you hold out, it will give off the illusion that no one's home and come back later. a couple moments pass, a sigh of relief falls from your lips when the knocking stops, allowing you to loosen your grip on the pillow around your head.

maybe the neighbours got annoyed and kicked whoever that was out.

at the silence, you roll onto your side and shift your body around to get comfortable in the mattress. another long breath leaving your lips once that optimal position to fall asleep in is found, closing your eyes and getting ready to be lulled back into dreamland.

now you think someone is fucking with you.

the knocking starts up again, for a second you thought you'd fallen asleep and the knocking was continuing in your dreams but no. sadly, you weren't lulled back into dreamland like you hoped, the pounding in your head making it apparent that this was indeed, reality.

on top of all the things happening in your life lately, being woken up by a stranger relentlessly hammering the life out of their fist on your– actually, your best friend's– door is the kicker to a great day. a whine leaving your lips as you roll out of bed, pouting as you trudge to the door of the guest bedroom and continue your trek down the hall, towards the front door.

sure, you wouldn't have minded if your best friend, the person who lives in this unit, was actually home to answer the door. alas, she's at work whilst you're here; straightening out your pyjamas and plastering the fakest smile on your lips whilst you undo the locks, twisting the doorknob and swinging the door open.

"hello, mis—"

your jaw drops. posture immediately straightening due to the wave of tension that rushes through your veins, your mind comes up with two options: hide behind the door or run. your heart begins to race in your chest, tears threatening to spill at any moment but your feet are cemented to the ground. any urge you had to run away and hide quickly depleting at the sight of the man in front of you, a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

"chan… wh-what are you doing here?"

there he is: the man of the hour.

in front of you, in the flesh. standing a couple inches away from you clad in his usual all-black attire. you're avoiding his gaze but can't seem to pry your eyes off the bouquet in the man's hold.

a medley of red and white roses, baby's breath peeking throughout the arrangement.

"i- i needed to see you," chan's voice comes out husky.

shifting awkwardly on your feet, you sigh, "how did you know i was here?"

"multiple calls to your best friend and a long speech," he uses his free hand to scratch at the back of his neck, a nervous smile on his lips.

'she's getting a long speech from me too.'

"okay, well…" you clear your throat, "you saw me so bye."

you go to shut the door but chan stumbles forward, holding it open as he stands in the doorframe. the gush of air from his sudden movements gives you a whiff of his cologne. that along with the closer proximity has a lump forming in your throat.

"w-wait, i wanted to talk too."

"y-you spoke and so did i so, bye," you choke out, trying to close the door again but to no avail as his body blocks your way, "please chan, what more do you want from me? don't make this harder for me."

chan reaches forward at the sight of a tear falling, wanting to wipe it away but you flinch away from his touch. your reaction has chan recoiling, he shifts awkwardly on his feet. you go to turn away from him.

"i made a mistake," he states, his words coming out rushed.

you gulp, angling your body towards the man again. this time your arms crossed over your chest, your gaze still falling away from his face. chan's throat clears when he realizes that you're not going to speak.

"that night, i shouldn't have let you go," he continues, "i should've told you, said something, said anything to convince you to stay… but… fuck. i- i was scared."

your eyes glance up at his face, only to look away just as quickly.

"you're probably thinking, of what?" chan runs a hand through his hair, "but listening to everything you said, everything that i was stupid, ignorant enough not to notice, all those things that i did– or, uh didn't do… that hurt you. it scared me to tell you i wanted you to stay."

your eyebrows furrow in frustration, this time your gaze stays on his face, making no move to wipe the tears running down your cheeks.

"listening to you, hearing how much i hurt you. i- i thought it would've been selfish of me to tell you to stay," chan's voice cracks, tears falling from his eyes as well, "i thought i would hurt you more if you stayed… that you didn't deserve that, y-you deserved so much more than me."

"god, chan.…" a bitter smile on your lips, "you saying nothing, letting me leave… a-and not fighting for me, for us! fuck… that hurt more than anything."

the memories of that night have your heart aching. whimpering as the tears continue to fall, the sight has chan's gradually getting heavier in his chest. he wants nothing but to pull you into his arms and to never let go.

"i know… i know. baby, i'm so sorry," chan's cheeks are soaked with tears but he makes no effort to wipe them away, "i'm so fucking sorry. i thought i was doing what was best for you, but i fucked up, i fucked up big time."

your eyes lock with chan's. glossy, tear-filled orbs gazing into each other, at that moment the tears only build until the both of you are crying a river in the hallway.

chan quite literally launches himself at you. throwing his arms around your body and pulling you into his chest. instinctively, your arms wrap around his torso, nuzzling your head into his shirt. bodies trembling and shaking as the both of you cry in each other's arms.

chan soaks up every single thing about this moment; the warmth of your body radiating onto him, your face nuzzled into his chest, the smell of your hair, the way your hands grip the back of his shirt, the feeling of your body pressed up against his. he isn't even sure that you'll take him back. regardless, he knows he wants to work his hardest to ensure he'll have you in his arms every day for the rest of his life.

in his arms, he holds the person who has been with him every step of the way and supported him day in and day out. the biggest mistakes chan ever made took place on that day: not convincing you to stay, not telling you how he loves you with his entire heart, and holding your engagement ring in his hand while he watched you walk out.

chan wants you to be so much more than just his past and present, he wants you to be his future, his forever. he's always wanted that but he failed at showing you, instead hurting you in ways he was completely ignorant of.

"i love you," chan cries, you can hear his heart racing in his chest, "i love you so much. if you let me, i'll work every single moment of every day to show you that. when i told you i wanted you for the rest of my life, i meant it. i mean it with my whole heart. i fucked up–majorly, but i swear to you! i swear i'll show you that i'm the one you deserve, that i can give you that life you deserve."

chan looks down at you, enveloped in his arms as your gaze naturally lifts to meet his eyes.

chan's heart skips a beat.

there it is.

that sparkle.

main masterlist

[hopelesslys-world]

STOCKHOLM SYNDROME | CH. 5

WARNINGS: NON-CON, Age Gap ( Massimo is 34 reader is 20 ), sex, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, oral (both female and male), yandere themes, stalking, KIDNAPPING, violence, harsh language, murder...

Tell me if I missed something... ( As you can see most of those warnings will make their appearance in future chapters. )

I apologize for any grammar mistakes...

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𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏, 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 outside. You felt a slight depressed feeling approaching you, not to mention that you were starving like never before.

Right as your brain woke up, you felt someone’s hand lying heavy on your waist. Massimo was sleeping next to you, spooning you from behind leaving no space whatsoever, curled into a ball just like you with his arm around you securely.

Moments of yesterday's fight flashed before your eyes and disgust washed over you. What was he doing here? Being all cuddly and shit? If he won't apologise for his behaviour then you're in for a much terrible year.

You were afraid to move, to wake him, and you had to go to the bathroom. Slowly, you started to slip from under his arm, lifting it delicately. Massimo took a deep breath and turned over on his back. He was still asleep. You got up and headed to the bathroom tiptoeing.

After you were done with your business, you took your clothes off and went to the enormous shower. You turned the water on letting it soak you. Taking your loofah and using a generous amount of heavenly scented soap you began to scrub your body.

The door slammed open suddenly. It was the Man in Black. He was ogling me, not even trying to act cool.

A surprised scream left your mouth and hurried to cover up all your lady parts. "What the hell" you murmured to yourself

“Good morning, baby girl. May I join you?” he asked, rubbing the sleep off his eyes.

At first first all you wanted was to rush at him, pummel him with your fists for what would have been the thousandth time, and throw him out. But your experience of yesterday's fight told you that it would comedown to nothing and only elicit an abrupt, violent, and unpleasant reaction.

Instead, you replied, “You wouldn't leave even if I told you to. So be my guest.”

Massimo stopped rubbing his eyes, frowned, and froze, dumbfounded. He must have thought he had misheard you. You had thrown him off balance.

Time to finally put Plan C into action I guess. You thought mischievously.

You couldn’t change the fact that he had just gone in behind you and seen you naked, no other man had seen you like this before. It was for a brief moment, though. Your hands hugged your breasts protectively while you crossed your legs tightly preventing anyone from seeing your bare womanhood.

Slowly, Massimo approached the expansive shower, grabbed the shirt from the back of his neck and tore it off with one fluid motion. You backed up against the shower's wall, surely but hesitantly you removed one of your hands and began scrubbing again. Keeping your eyes glued to the floor tiles not daring to meet his burning gaze.

Massimo entered the enormous cubicle and turned on the second shower head. There were four of those in total, not counting the gigantic water jet panel that looked like a bathroom radiator.

“We’re leaving today,” the Man in Black said impassively. “We’re going to be away for a couple of days. Maybe weeks. I don’t know yet. We’ll drop by some galas and parties, so take this into account while packing your things. Domenico will take care of everything. You just tell him what you need.”

In the end, your curiosity won. You turned his way and saw Massimo standing with his arms propped on the wall, letting the water flow freely down his naked body. The first man you saw naked in real life and not movies.

The view was overwhelming— toned leg, shapely buttocks, muscled belly were all testament to the enormous work he had to do to keep his body in such perfect shape. Your eyes stopped wandering not wanting to push your luck and create sly comments from him.

The soap disappeared from your body, you turned off the water and moved forward to leave the shower. Without warning Massimo grabbed your arm and you slammed softly to his chest with a gasp. You could feel his erect cock touching your lower back.

"I wanted to say sorry for yesterday, you made me so furious I wasn't able to control myself." He kissed your shoulder. You didn't move. "I want to be gentle with you Y/N, but I don't know how...will you teach me how to be gentle?" His lips started to trail toward your neck and his large hands roamed your waist.

You nodded. Your body was rebelling against you, where did that even come from? He was so mean to you and now you wanted to fuck him?

What the hell!?

"I have to get ready." You said desperately wanting to get out of there.

He let you go with no complaints and you rushed out. You grabbed a bathrobe on your way and threw it over myself, running through the door.

You shut yourself in the ginormous closet until you heard him leave. You sat at a bench scolding your subconscious that wanted you to sleep with him. How did that thought even crossed your mind, it was sick! You didn't know what time it was or how long you stayed in there.

Suddenly, you heard someone knock on the room's door, unwillingly you gathered your wits and left the closet to go and answer the door.

It was no other than Domenico, "Hi." You greeted. You moved aside to let him in, he was holding two gigantic Louis Vuitton travel bags.

The young Italian smiled. “Hey, you are leaving in an hour, so I thought you could use some help, miss. Unless you don’t want me to…”

“Stop calling me miss. I can’t stand it. Besides, you can't be that older, so let’s skip the formalities.”

Domenico smiled and nodded, signaling his consent. “Can you tell me where we’re going?” you asked.

“To Napoli, Rome, and Venice,” he replied. “And then the Côte d’Azur.”

You opened your eyes wider, surprised. You had never been to all those places. You haven’t seen so many places in your whole life!

“Do you know what we’re to do in each of those places?” you asked. “I’d like to know what to take with me.”

Domenico walked over to the closet. “I do, in fact, but I was told not to spoil it for you. Don Massimo will make everything clear in time. I’ll help you pick the right outfits, don’t worry.” He winked at you. “Fashion is something of a hobby to me.”

“I’ll trust you fully if that’s the case. If we only have an hour to prepare, let’s get to it, shall we?”

Domenico nodded and disappeared in the cavernous closet.

"Domenico," you said. He quickly spun around to meet your face. "Could you by any chance bring me something to eat? I'm starving to death here..."

"Consider it done." He then speed dial someone on the phone and arranged you a meal in Italian.

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Fifty minutes later, you were standing in front of the mirror, packing your cosmetics into one of the leather bags. You'd tied your hair neatly with a hair clip, Domenico picked a red maxi skirt and a white top, along with white heels and jewellery that complemented the outfit perfectly.

“Your things are packed,” Domenico said, passing you your bag.

“I’d like to see Massimo now, please.”

“He hasn’t finished his meeting yet, but—”

“Well it's about time he does, ” you interrupted disdainfully, leaving the room.

The library was one of those rooms whose location you had committed to memory. You headed down the corridor, and the patter of your hills reverberated from the stone floor. As you reached the right door, you took a deep breath and pulled on the handle. You went inside and felt a shiver running down your spine. You hadn’t been here since your first conversation with the Man in Black, only a while after waking up from your deep sleep.

Massimo was sitting on the couch. He wore a light linen suit and an unbuttoned shirt. Next to him sat a man with graying hair—very handsome and a lot older than Massimo. A typical Italian, you thought. Longish hair combed back and a well-groomed goatee. Seeing you, both of them jumped to their feet.

The first look you got from Massimo was ice-cold. As if he wanted to scold you for interrupting his meeting. But as soon as his eyes swept your entire silhouette, his stare seemed to grow less severe. He said something to the other man, keeping his eyes on you, and started walking your way. He approached you and leaned over, kissing you on the cheek.

“You look lovely,” he whispered, planting the kiss. He took your hand in his and led you to his friend.

“Y/N, meet Mario—my right hand.” you walked over to the man to offer him a hand, but he swooped in, grabbed you by the shoulders, and kissed you on both cheeks. You still hadn’t grown used to that. Where you come from, you only kiss your closest friends and relatives.

“Consigliere,” you said with a smile.

“Just Mario is all right.” The older man returned your smile. “It is good to finally see you in the flesh. Alive.”

Those words rooted you to the spot. What did he mean, “alive”? Had he assumed you wouldn’t live to see him? Your face must have shown some of your emotions, as Mario quickly explained, “There are paintings of you all over the mansion. They’ve been there for years now, but nobody ever believed you were real. You must be as astounded as we are.”

You could only nod.

“I won’t lie: this whole situation is a bit surreal and daunting. But we all know I have no power over don Massimo, so I humbly accept each and every one of the three hundred and sixty-five days he has given me.” Irony was your new best friend now, you rolled your eyes.

Massimo burst out laughing. “Humbly…” he repeated, turning to his companion, who immediately joined in the merriment.

“I’m happy I could improve your mood. Now, I’ll wait in the car so you can enjoy my absence,” you hissed, sending them both an ironic smirk. As I turned you back on them and headed to the door, you heard Mario say, trying to hold back the laughter, “Indeed, Massimo, it’s just as if she was Italian.”

You ignored that and shut the door behind you. You stopped before you exited the house and went out to the driveway. The image of the dead man lying on the paving stones flashed before your eyes. You swallowed, took a furtive look around, and headed in the direction of the SUV parked outside. The driver opened the door for you and gave you a hand as you stepped inside.

Your iPhone was lying on the back seat, right next to your laptop. You squealed with glee, seeing both devices. You turned the phone on only to find out that your password was changed.

You tried and tried again until you were made to stop by the phone's security.

That fucking bastard!

In that moment, the car door opened, and Massimo deftly slipped inside. He took a look at your hand. The iPhone was still in it. "Why did you change my password?" You asked your vision going red. That also means that he scrolled through it as well!

“I don't trust you that much, just yet. You will only talk with your relatives under my supervision.” he replied casually. He pressed the button and then the black glass separated us from the driver.

“The last stop of our trip will be Warsaw. It won’t be as soon as you’d like, but calling your parents more often from now on should assuage her concerns and give us more time, so you can call them whenever you want- while I'm with you.”

That was good news. “Thanks I guess...” You turned your head away looking at the window.

Massimo kept his eyes on you for a moment longer. Then he lay his head on the headrest and sighed. “I’m not so bad. I don’t want to keep you here against your will. I don’t want to threaten you. But, tell me: would you stay of your own will?” He fixed you with a searching stare.

You turned away. Would you stay? Of course not. Without second thoughts.

The Man in Black was still waiting for a reply, but didn’t get one, so he turned to his iPhone, scrolling and reading something on the Internet.

The silence was unbearable. You needed someone to talk to. Maybe it was because of your longing for home. Still looking through the window, you asked, “Where are we going now?”

“The airport in Catania. If the traffic is light, we should be there in less than an hour.”

Another good thing, you enjoyed flying a lot.

Massimo reached into the glove compartment and took out a black paper bag. “I have something for you,” he said, handing me the package.

You frowned and sent him a questioning look.

The elegant gold lettering on its front formed the words “Patek Philippe.” youknew that name. There could only be one thing inside. You also knew how expensive those watches were. “Massimo… I…” your eyes wandered back to him. “I can’t accept that.”

He laughed out loud, sliding on his aviators. “Baby girl, this is one of the cheaper gifts I’m going to give you. Besides, don’t forget you don’t get to decide for another few hundred days. Open it.”

You knew this was going nowhere—arguing with him never did. It could only lead to misery for you, especially since there was nowhere to run now. You pulled a black box from the bag and opened it. The watch was marvelous—pink gold encrusted with little diamonds. Simply perfect.

“You have been pretty isolated today. I had to reward you. I know I’ve taken much from you, but you’ll start getting it all back now,” Massimo said, fastening the watch on your wrist.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[ series masterlist ]

TAGLIST: ( THANK YOU ❤️ (if you want to be added comment in the chapters or send a message:) ) @lucidlivi

DON'T BE AFRAID TO SPAM WITH LIKES AND COMMENTS. I WOULD ALSO APPRECIATE IT IF YOU COULD REBLOG THIS POST <3

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Flufftober Day 7 | Swinging together

Pairing | Husband!Tony Stark x Pregnant!Wife!Female!Reader

Word count | 1.8K

Summary | You have always dreamt of having a porch swing on your porch, and now that you and Tony are moving into your new house, this is the perfect opportunity. He will do everything he can to build it before your baby boy arrives and make your little family complete.

Warning(s) | None.

Prompt(s) | 7. Porch swing | @flufftober 2023

A/n | This one shot is written for day 7 of Flufftober 2023. I will add the missing days as I go with this challenge, but for now I hope you will enjoy this as much as I did when writing it! 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 🧡

Divider is made by @cafekitsune | GIF credit goes to the owner

Main Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist | Flufftober Masterlist

It has been almost a year since you and Tony both retired from being an Avenger, though Tony occasionally goes back to help plan long missions when necessary. It happened more initially, but the day you and Tony found out you were pregnant, he went less and less.

Now you're sitting sideways on the couch on a warm spring day, your feet lying in Tony's lap as he's giving your feet a well-deserved massage, if you say so yourself.

''I think I have an idea what I want to put on the porch of our new house,'' you tell him, and Tony looks at you expectantly while he keeps rubbing your feet.

''And what would that idea be, Gorgeous?'' Tony asks.

''I have always wanted a beautiful porch swing in front of my house to sit and watch life go on in front of us, and when our little boy is here, I would love to sit with him on the swing while I talk about us,'' you say, a dopey grin forming on your face at the thought.

Tony thinks about it for a bit, and after a few minutes, he gives you the biggest smile. ''We can do that for our Munchkin and his amazing Mom, too.''

But before he could get started, the three of you needed to move into the new house first, and all the Avengers had agreed to help the two of you out on moving day a few weeks later.

You can only do a little to help, but they don't mind. Everyone thinks taking care of yourself, and the baby is more important than putting unnecessary strain on either of you.

You've opted to wear a maternity dress that shows off your growing belly since it will be a warm spring day again. Your hair is pulled into a loose ponytail, and you're not wearing make-up, instead opting to accessorize with your glasses.

As soon as the Avengers arrive, they all flock to you, as they don't see you as often now. ''You're glowing!'' ''The baby is growing so fast,'' and ''I can't believe you're this far along already,'' are only a few comments they let loose on you.

''Could you leave my wife alone long enough to get some moving done? I want to be done by the end of the day, not the next week!'' Tony jokes dryly, and they immediately get to work by loading every piece of furniture and all boxes into the trucks they've brought, and before you know it, your entire house is packed into a few trucks.

''Can you come inside with me for just a minute?'' you ask Tony, the others waiting patiently until you're ready. It's already past dinner time, but they'd stay all night if it's what you need.

''O'course,'' he says, and you grab his hand, leading him inside, walking into the house through your front door for one last time.

''I just need a few more minutes with just the three of us together in our old house to say goodbye to all our wonderful memories,'' you say as tears form in the corners of your eyes.

Tony pulls you into a soft hug, careful not to press too hard against your stomach, and you can't help but let the tears flow freely as you think back to all the beautiful memories.

All the anniversaries you've shared, the happy moments, the sad ones, and everything in between, from coming home after an extended mission to coming home after a night of drinking and partying.

This house has seen it all, but now you're leaving it behind to start a life in your new home accommodating your growing family. ''I can't believe we're leaving it all behind,'' you sniffle against Tony's chest, and he's shedding some of his own.

''I love you, Gorgeous.'' ''I love you too, Tony.''

After your tearful goodbyes, you walked out the door before leaving the keys inside, officially never returning to where you called home. Now you're getting ready for the new chapter in your life, in your new house.

The entire group of Avengers enveloped you in a group hug, letting you both know how much they love you.

''Right, time to get moving!'' you say before the group lets go with a lot of laughter.

Before you know it, Tony is behind the wheel of your car (his fancy cars were already at the new house), and you're sleeping in the car's passenger seat.

The other Avengers are paired in equal numbers over the other trucks, so they can switch if needed, but everyone decides to drive in one straight line to the new house. And this entire time, Tony's hand has rarely left your thigh, stroking it gently while your hands are protecting your belly.

The fact that you're moving to an entirely different state doesn't bother anyone, as they're happy to be along for the ride, but at some point, Tony decides to make a stop. Even though you're asleep, he wants to make a restroom stop just for you and others when necessary.

''Gorgeous?'' he nudges you awake gently, and with a snort, you wake up, earning a soft laugh from your husband.

''We're stopping for a toilet break; we're just over halfway there now,'' he says, pointing to a 24-hour diner, all the other Avengers already waiting outside for the two of you.

''Thank you,'' you say, followed by a small yawn as Tony gets up and over to your side of the door, ready to help you get up since that's not as easy as it used to be.

When you're standing, all of you go inside, and you, Nat, and Wanda go to the toilet while the men sit down and order food because they're starving.

The girls were done pretty quickly, but even with a baby pushing on your bladder, it was still a little shy; you don't particularly like using the toilet in places you're not familiar with yet, but after a few minutes, it finally worked.

''Sorry for that, shy bladder,'' you said with a shrug before washing your hands, but they don't mind. When you all return, Bucky stands up so you can slide into the booth next to Tony.

After a small peck on the lips, you sit comfortably, your back resting against the padded leather behind you, your hands on your stomach again, which is where they usually are nowadays.

''I got you some pancakes with extra maple syrup,'' Tony says, and you happily thank him since that's precisely what you've been craving. It's almost as if he's read your mind.

After the food has arrived and it's all gone, everyone continues the journey, but this time, you're taking your place in the backseat of your car, where you can lie down relatively comfortably for the rest of the drive.

Once you're there, Steve and Bucky get the bed out of the trucks and set up in the bedroom, which is done effortlessly between them.

''Gorgeous? Are you ready to get up and sleep in an actual bed? Steve and Bucky put it together for you already, so you can continue sleeping there; you're going to need it,'' Tony asks, and you sleepily nod.

''G'night everyone,'' you say, followed by another yawn and a small wave.

''I kept some of your pajamas, underwear, and clean clothes in a separate bag so we don't have to overhaul everything right now,'' Tony says as he walks you upstairs, the rest of the Avengers loading stuff out of the trucks and putting them in their respective places.

That night, you sleep like a log while everyone works as fast as possible to ensure everything is perfect with the little one on his way, at which they succeeded perfectly.

Over the two and a half months following the move, Tony has been constantly working on a brand new porch swing, and it's finally done. You're watching him as he puts the finishing touches on it.

It's a cooler day today, so you're wearing a comfortable outfit, especially now that the baby can come anytime. And it is almost as if the baby knew the swing would be done because you're actually going into labor later that day.

''T-Tony? We need to go to the hospital,'' you say with a strained voice, and within an instant, he's by your side and ready to go to have your son. The hospital bag is packed and ready to go, so you're out the door quickly.

Once you arrive in the hospital, you're immediately taken to the delivery ward, where you'll spend the next 12 hours in labor; your son decided to take his time to come out. Once he is finally here, you can't help but cry happy tears, mainly because he's a carbon copy of his Dad.

''Shall we call everyone?'' you ask, and you decide to FaceTime Bucky since he usually picks up his phone right away. You're holding your beautiful son in your arms, and Tony sits beside you on the bed.

Your iPad is placed on a table that hovers over your legs. It doesn't take long for him to pick up, and a happy face greets you.

''Hi, doll! How is-'' is all he says before he sees your son, and he can't help but run to the others before saying anything else.

''Guys, guys! Look!'' he says, and one by one, you see everyone passing by and congratulating you on the birth of your beautiful baby boy.

''We're so happy for you; we can't wait to meet the little fella in real life,'' Bucky says as he grabs his phone again, turning it sideways so you can see everyone.

''Can we guys tell you his name? Because we're excited to share it after keeping it a secret for so long,'' you say, and everyone is instantly excited.

''His name,'' Tony starts, ''Is Edward Howard Stark. Named after both Dad and Granddad,'' he says; you can practically see everyone melting when they hear it.

After a few more congratulations and promises to see each other again soon, they hang up, and you're left to bask in the enjoyment that is the little bundle of joy in your arms.

''He's beautiful, just like you,'' you tell Tony, and he captures your lips in a soft, sweet kiss that makes you crave more of the same, just like each of his kisses has done all these years.

The next day, you're all allowed to go home, and the first thing you do when you're back is take your place on the porch swing with Edward and Tony.

''This will be the first of many more times we'll be swinging together, Munchkin,'' you say to Edward, and Tony wholeheartedly agrees. Life was already great, but now it is perfect.

[endwersed]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by the brilliant @dear-massacre 🥰

I haven't been able to work on my current WIP much this week, so here's a li'l something from the nanny AU I started a while ago instead!

-

“The novelty starts to wear off around the time they learn the word why,” his dad adds drily, a teasing eyebrow quirked. “You should have at least a year to enjoy before that, though.”

Stiles refuses to let his brain drift to thoughts of whether he’ll even be around in a year to see it. Not now, not when Derek’s smile is huge and warm and so full of unbridled love as he looks between his son and Stiles, not when Jake is babbling an impressively steady stream of dadadada, much to all of their delight.

In that moment, he simply decides – fuck it.

It’s absolutely true that none of this is real. But he’s going to enjoy every second of it that he can before it all blows up in his face.

The rest of his dad’s brief visit passes easily enough; Jake regaling them all with his new word while the rest of the conversation flows freely around it. Derek is polite, saying all the right things to make the Sheriff like him, regard him with a quiet sense of approval.

When it’s time for him to head off, his dad and Derek shake hands before he rubs an affectionate hand over the growing hair on Jake’s head. Stiles offers to walk with him to his car, and they chat amiably up until they reach his cruiser, at which point his dad cuts off with a frown, leaning against the closed door of the car and levelling Stiles with a look he hasn’t seen since he was a teenager.

“What?” Stiles asks, eyes wide and something like dread welling up inside him.

His dad doesn’t answer immediately. His gaze slides along the path they just travelled before pulling back to meet Stiles’ eyes. Stiles feels his heartbeat quicken as his dad narrows his eyes.

“You need to be careful here, Stiles,” he says.

Stiles does everything he can to not show a single visible sign of how those words affect him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replies, forcing nonchalance.

“He’s married,” his dad presses on, as always too goddamn switched on. “He won’t feel the same way you do. And that’s not even getting into the fact that he’s your boss.”

“I don’t,” Stiles starts to deny.

“You need to get over your feelings,” his dad cuts over him, “and if you can’t do that – you need to quit.”

Stiles swallows thickly. Unconsciously, his eyes dart over to the blanket where Derek and Jake sit, Derek still with an utterly astonished look on his face as Jake repeats those two incredible syllables again and again and again. His dad’s face is kind, sympathetic, when he looks back to him, and Stiles nods once, stiff and quick.

“It’s just a crush,” he lies. “I’ll get over it.”

After a long moment, his dad nods in return. He pushes away from the car and tugs Stiles into a hug, one hand at the back of his head as he presses his lips lightly against Stiles’ temple.

“I’m just a phone call away if you ever need me,” his dad says, pulling away to look him right in the eye. “And I mean ever. You got that?”

Stiles smiles wanly. “It’s just a crush, dad. It’ll be fine.”

It's just as much of a lie for his own, stupid heart.

-

No pressure tags! @crownofstardustandbone @raisesomehale @thotpuppy @renmackree

[cordiformpink]

something i'm trying out... vaguefic. I wrote this with my obscure favs in mind but have changed the names to A and B and made some details more vague, so it might be enjoyed by people apart from me!

all the context you need is that A and B have worked together for a while and have recently gotten into a relationship. A is the lonely sort, quite awkward, shy at times, and autistic. this fic is about B's discovery of how tickling is just the sort of sensory input A craves.

----

It's something he notices over time, A's dogged pursuit of sensory stimulation.

The first and most obvious thing B picks up on is the music. It's a surprise, once he notices, that he hasn't thought about it sooner; the music is a constant in A's life. But it's not until weeks into their relationship that B really thinks about it.

The first thing A does when he comes home is put his music on. He listens while he does the crossword, while he eats, while he drinks, and while he showers. He listens to think, and he listens to relax. It's like, B thinks one evening, as he watches A scrub dishes to the sound of his favourite singer's voice, A's life can't quite flow freely without the music. Like it gets stuck on jagged corners and snags on silence, tugging at A's thoughts in the most irritating way, set free only when the music is there to smooth its way.

Once he's noticed that, he begins to notice the rest of it. Because A can't have his music everywhere. He has alternatives, instead. B thinks initially that they're just replacements for the music, for when A can't play it, but he soon realises that they're more than that. A doesn't just use one at a time - he'll use two, three, sometimes, or he'll wander between them, surrounding himself with sensory input. There's the pen clicking, for one.

It's easily mistaken for an annoying habit -- and it still is an annoying habit, really, and one B complains about -- but it's more than that, too. Sometimes, when A sits with his crossword, clicking away with that stupid pen, B will glance over and see him holding the pen by his ear while he clicks it, gazing off into the distance, clearly lost in thought. Annoying the sound of the pen clicking may be, but A is clearly getting something out of it, if he's doing it so close to his ear.

Then there's the thing with the hair. B picks up on that one while he's sitting at his desk one day, A standing nearby, his gaze focused thoughtfully on the notice board. His pen must be in his pocket or on his desk or otherwise inaccessible, because when A's hand goes idly looking for something to fidget with, it's his own hair that he finds. It's ordinary enough at first, and B hardly gives it a second thought - just fingers brushing through a few stray curls at the back of A's head -but then the hand stays there. And B's eyes stay, too, lingering, as A tugs gently at his own hair. Then he runs his fingers through it again, then scratches lightly, then tugs it again. A strokes his own hair a few times, pressing his curls flat, then letting them spring back up.

And that's all he needs, apparently, because he turns, then, that look on his face, the one that means he's worked something out and intends to follow the thought immediately. B watches him go.

It all sort of settles into place, after that, in his head. It's sensation-seeking. A is going about his days craving stimulation, finding it in textures he can run his fingertips over and sounds he can listen to, and creating it where he can't, with that infernal pen clicking and the tugging at his own hair. He's constantly understimulated.

B can't unsee it, after that.

He sees it in A as he goes about his business, and in his interactions with him. He sees it in the way A kisses. A presses close when he kisses, tilts his head, searches B's body with his hands, cupping, stroking, caressing, like he just can't get enough of touching him -- and maybe he can't.

It's on his mind one morning, one rare morning they both have off work, before either of them have gotten up yet. A is still asleep, so of course he hasn't gotten up, but B has been awake a while, just watching. A looks inexplicably cute while he's asleep. It might be something to do with the way he snuffles, rubs his cheek against his pillow, or the way he sleeps mostly on his front or his side, one arm generally twisted behind or underneath him in a position that can't possibly be comfortable to anyone but A. He's a tangle of a person, and he's beautiful.

A always sleeps in a vest and pyjama bottoms, which has the side effect - fortunate or unfortunate, depending - of leaving his freckled shoulders exposed, and incredibly tempting to touch. So, B does. He reaches out and runs his fingertips lightly over those pretty freckles. A twitches in his sleep, snuffles, smiles slightly.

B smiles too with fond amusement. He strokes A's spine, and his smile widens when A sighs and arches into his touch. Desperate for stimulation, even in his sleep. He moves his hand over A's warm back, smoothing the wrinkles in his vest down, until his fingers reach his side. Experimentally, B strokes him there, curling his fingers just slightly.

A twitches again, makes a noise, and smiles into his pillow.

B pauses. Might A be ticklish? He watches, worried he might've woken him, but the smile has stayed on A's face, and his eyes are still shut. He looks... well, he looks happy.

Well, then. The more B thinks about it, the more it makes sense. To a man so desperately understimulated as to sit there clicking a pen next to his own ear, what sort of bliss might it be for him to be touched in such a way?

B reaches his hand out again to stroke that spot, not quite tickling, though it's obvious that A is finding it ticklish anyway. He's squirming slightly, smile wider now, though his eyes haven't opened yet. It's not entirely clear whether he's awake. Well... B can soon straighten that out. He scratches lightly over that thin white vest, reaching around and letting his hand explore the whole of A's side, until he finds a spot that makes A jerk.

There he is.

B carries on with his gentle tickling until A is squirming properly, face buried in his pillow, giggling. "B," he manages, sleepy and confused. "What--?"

B goes in for a solid tickle then, attacking both of A's sides. A jerks again and laughter bursts free as he wriggles to evade B's hands. B reaches around him until he's got a good grip on A's waist, then slides him across the bed, pulling him close. Breathless, A lets out one more giggle, then relaxes a little into the cuddle. "Oh... good morning."

He's loving it. That smile, the one he can just about see from here, is the smile he so rarely gets to see. It's the smile A smiles when he thinks nobody's looking.

"Good morning," B replies, smoothing the palm of his hand over A's stomach. There's the slightest hitch to A's breathing, then. If B hadn't been listening for it, he might've missed it. He smiles into the back of A's shoulder.

Then, he wriggles his fingers into A's stomach. A yelps and twists immediately, only to now find himself trapped in the most tickly hug. No matter how he squirms or tries to shield himself, B's hands are everywhere, scratching at his stomach, squeezing his hips, poking into his ribs. A's giggles turn into shrieks and squeals as he wriggles desperately, but B's hands carry on and make their way up to scribble under his arms. A jerks again, head thrown back, laughter turned silent. That's when B delivers the final blow. He presses several quick, ticklish kisses down the side of A's neck, while his hands shoot back down to squeeze mercilessly at his sides.

A's laughter hits a new peak. B has never heard him laugh like that before. He's not even sure A has laughed like that before. He doesn't seem practiced in it - in smiling, laughing - and B vows to himself that he's going to try and make him smile like this at least once a day, from now on.

He's stopped, now, holding a breathless A in his arms, residual smiles on both their faces. Not at any point during any of that, B notes, did A ask for it to stop.

A turns in his arms, curling forward, tucking himself against B's chest. A minute passes, and B is just starting to wonder if A means to go back to sleep, when he hears him speak softly.

"Thank you."

[zealouscanonindeer]

Not meant to be

Synopsis: Being inevitable is not enough.

Category: Angst.

Part 2 of What could have been. Works as a stand alone too.

*********

For @choicesseptemberchallenge2023 and @midnightmelodiz .

DAY 20 : " Are you saying that there's hope? Maybe in the future-" "No."

*********

Ethan groaned, turning once again to his side, pushing the blanket off him as his bare chest heaved. Today she had been downright sinful and worst of all she was neither trying nor realising what she was doing.

Her black skirt, with the thigh high slit, the translucent cream work shirt, which gave a peek of the bralette underneath, half her hair pulled up while the rest cascaded down her slender shoulders like water fall.

Although he was not the only one who thought so, he eyed Dr Emerson check her out from the back as she stood in front of them in the elevator.

The whole day had him riled up and the moment he got into bed, he had wanked to the memory of their first time together.

Now he tried to push out the rest, mainly his stupidity at leaving, thinking it would work. Instead everyday in the Amazon all he could think was her. Then he had insisted on the reset. He had been breaking her heart every step of the way and yet she never stopped caring. Maybe she had had enough this time around. The mere thought made his blood run cold.

The next day he walked in at the usual time, opening the door to the diagnostics office, he saw the vixen herself, fidgeting with the papers on his desk, bunching them up in neat stacks over and over again. She usually did this when she was nervous or restless.

"Rookie? What happened? Are you okay? "

"Why wouldn't I be. No scratch that, I'm not okay, Ethan. " She looked up at him, the emotions swirling inside her.

"Let me help. " She chuckled sarcastically, her eyes turning sadder.

"No, Ethan. You've done enough. You've been an grade A asshole, first you sleep with me, tell me you care, that you want this, you save my career at the hearing last year. And the moment it feels like this, us it's getting real, you run away, you run away like a coward. This whole time I've been trying,for the both of us,but the problem is you can't even face your own feelings head on so you decide to just throw me out of your life as if it's just your decision, not even bothering to talk to me. I deserved an explanation, Ethan. Couldn't you atleast be man enough to end things the right way. "

She pauses, her breathing ragged, her eyes turning glossy but she refuses to let the tears fall in front of him. She continues.

"If that wasn't enough, you come back with this reset crap, which we both know is never going to work, but again you're too coward to accept it. And now, everytime you see me with someone else, you act like I owe you something. You make me feel so bad about myself that I should be apologizing when I'm doing what you want. When all you've made me out to be is some booty call to use when you're in need of a fuck and cast away when you're done. "

"Penny.. I didn't realize how you felt. " Ethan's voice quivered, unable to look at the hurt in her eyes that he had caused, he averted his eyes, slowly exhaling.

"Penny.. I'm so sorry, darling.. "

"Don't call me that" He winced, she was right, he had no right to call her that.

"I care, I do, so much, I want to only do right by you, and I know I messed up but this time around it's going to be different, I promise. You mean so much to me, you mean everything."

" Are you saying that there's hope? Maybe in the future-"

"No." Her eyes fluttered, tears now flowing down her face freely at the single word.

"I'm saying that I'm doing what I should have done long ago. "

She looked absolutely heartbroken, he felt the tears build up at his words, their implications hitting him slowly, but this was the last time he would hurt her. She seemed to agree, her eyes snapped up, this time with anger. She didn't say anything, moving past him to the door.

He chose to let go when he could hold on, fight for her, make it work because it meant something to him. She meant something, anything to him.

"Penny.. I. "

"Save it, Dr Ramsey. I know where we stand, thank you for clearing that up. "

With that, she walked out, she wasn't coming back this time... For the first time in years, he let the tears fall.

*********

@liaromancewriter @potionsprefect @jerzwriter @cariantha @peonierose @kyra75 @rookiemartin @queencarb @genevievemd @tveitertotwrites @coffeeheartaddict2 @choicesficwriterscreations

If anyone wants to join my tag list let me know☺

**********

[sasster]

Shame

[Doc]

“I’m sorry Ben.”

The apology catches the purple blood off guard, previously occupied by the tedious math problem displayed on the laptop he had propped up at the island that lived at the center of their kitchen, he straightens himself up to fix the brown blood with a puzzled look.

“Huh? What for?”

Zurven stands at the sink with his back to him, with a hanging head and tense shoulders.

“Zurv, you alright?”

He is silent for a moment longer before letting out a barely audible sniff and lifting a hand to wipe what Benjin can only guess is a stray tear. On his feet in a second and across the kitchen in even less time, he turns Zurven to face him so that he can pull the sniffling troll in close. And as though his legs were seconds away from giving out, Zurven collapses against his chest with very little struggle.

“I was embarrassed. But I should have told you.” Though his voice is muffled by his chest, Benjin can tell he is absolutely doing his best to fend off his tears. “There’s been so much going on. I didn’t want you guys to have to take care of me again.”

“Oh– Zurv. The daymares? I don’t hold that against you.” That was the truth, too, he was more upset with Mallum after all. The anger feels a little misplaced now, though.

“Someone’s had to take care of me my entire life.”

“That’s not true–”

“I thought that I could take care of myself for a change.”

He only tightens his arms around his sobbing partner as guilt starts to sting at the back of his throat. The small voice in the back of his head starts to remind him that this is all Harlan’s fault. What isn’t Harlan’s fault?

Now isn’t really the time to get all worked up about that brute.

“Then if Mallum wasn’t there I would have killed myself. If he was a heavier sleeper or if he was in the bathroom– I would have walked right into the sun.”

That one was more true than Benjin was comfortable with it being. If not for Mallum’s extended stay in their hive, they would likely be in many more sticky situations than he’d bear to admit.

Instead of responding, he loosens his arms from around Zurven and grabs hold of his hand. He leads him back to the living room where they can sit more comfortably. Behind him, he sniffs and shifts to wipe the now freely flowing tears from his eyes.

When they are situated on the couch Benjin once again pulls his mate into his arms, letting him fully lay on his chest, then he loses his hands in Zurvens hair.

“You don’t owe me an apology, Zurv. I just want you to feel safe again.”

Zurven shakes his head in response, the gentle petting already putting in the work and soothing him.

“I don’t think there are rules against letting people take care of you.”

“But my whole life –”

“That just means you’re worth it.”

The smaller troll sucks in a deep breath and deflates against him, successfully making himself small enough that Benjin can’t help but feel a little protective of him. He thinks that this is not what Zurven needs or wants at this moment, but he can’t help it.

He continues to pet his hair.

“Has it happened again?”

“This morning…”

He nods and Benjin feels his heart start to break.

“This morning?”

“I didn’t sleepwalk. I stayed in bed.” Zurvens voice gradually gets smaller the longer he speaks. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“I’ll wake you up next time.” He says with another sniff, grasping desperately at his shirt.

“Only if you want to. I only want you to feel safe.”

Zurven pauses for a moment before speaking again.

“I’m never safer than when I’m with you.”

[parcequecestnotreprojeeeet]

Hello! It’s Winter! I wanted a touching, heart breaking story. A break from my smut 😜

Precious Cargo

“Mr. President.”

Emmanuel looked up to see an advisor step cautiously into his office. This man was new to his staff, only having worked at the palace for a little over 2 months.

“What is it? I’m busy,” Emmanuel explained rudely, tapping on the screen of his iPhone for the 30th time.

“It’s your wife,” the man spoke softly, knowing what that sentence would do to the man behind the desk.

Emmanuel froze upon hearing the word “wife.” He knew Brigitte’s plane was expected back in 30 minutes, from a trip he wished she hadn’t gone on. He had a bad feeling the morning of her departure and couldn’t shake it, no matter how hard he tried to tell himself nothing would happen.

Now, he understood why his body signals were so strong.

Emmanuel managed to get his question out, “What happened?”

The advisor cleared his throat, “The… Madame’s plane was struck by lightning. And… we lost signal. The plane vanished, Sir.”

The whole world - Emmanuel's world - stopped.

He tried to catch his breath, but he couldn’t, it was impossible. His lungs had failed, and he desperately needed to lie down. No, this couldn’t be happening. He needed to see her, to touch her, to hold her and never let her go again. Why hadn’t she listened? Why did she insist on this ridiculous trip?

“I’m so sorry, Sir,” the man spoke, trying to fill the void of silence with comforting words. “I know how much you loved.…”

“No! Don’t say that! Stop talking! My wife is not gone! She’s not!!!” Emmanuel shouted, getting louder with each word. “Get out!!!”

The man quickly turned around and ran toward the hallway. He had been picked to deliver the bad news, and he hated every second of it. Everyone knew what Brigitte meant to Emmanuel. The messenger knew he was going into a warzone before he even stepped into that office.

Emmanuel couldn’t just sit behind his stupid desk. The presidency and all the shit that went with it suddenly meant nothing to him. He needed answers.

How does a plane suddenly vanish off the radar? Why was his wife flying in horrible conditions? Who was this idiot pilot? Didn’t he realize he had precious cargo onboard?

Emmanuel took a few steps toward the door but he had to stop. Running in the opposite direction toward his private bathroom, he emptied the contents of his stomach into the porcelain bowl. He didn’t have the strength to stand up, instead, he remained on the cold floor waiting for another round to come out of his body.

Sitting up against the wall, he buried his head in his hands, finally allowing the tears to flow freely.

“Emmanuel?”

He thought he had heard the sound of heels just a few moments ago, but he assumed he was dreaming. Garnering all the energy his body could manage, he rose from the floor and into her arms.

“Chéri! What’s wrong? Are you okay?” She asked, her voice shaking with fear after finding her husband in the fetal position.

He didn’t answer with words, because words weren’t enough, but with actions instead. After he was done kissing her face, his hands found the strap of her dress and pulled them down, revealing her red strapless bra.

“Honey! Stop! What are you doing?” Brigitte asked, stepping back. Ordinarily, she would never stop him but she could tell something was wrong. Besides, she could smell something unpleasant in the bathroom and she needed fresh air.

Emmanuel brought her to the couch and pulled her onto his lap, squeezing her so tight she thought she was going to burst.

“What has gotten into you? You couldn’t have missed me that much. I was only gone for 12 hours,” Brigitte laughed nervously, not having seen her husband behave like this since they first started dating.

“I was told your plane was struck by lightning and that they lost signal.” He stated, “I … I thought I lost you.”

She cradled his head against her chest, “Sweetheart, it wasn’t that bad. There was some lightning but the plane was never hit. We landed safely. See! I’m right here - all in one piece.”

“Brig - don’t ever joke about that!!” He shook his head realizing how aggressive his tone had been. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I am not myself right now.” She continued to hold him tightly, running her fingers through his wavy hair. “It’s okay, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes until she needed to get up and use the restroom. “Emmanuel … Emmanuel?” She tried to move his body but he wouldn’t budge. He had finally fallen asleep in her arms.

Helloo Winter! ❤️

I think someone is about to get fired 😅 Or i would probably even quit myself straight away, out of shame 😂

But poor Manu, his was really upside down for a few minutes there. I’m glad you didn’t keep the anguish for too long and Brigitte showed up quickly. But not so ready to smell Emmanuel’s vomit, even for some woohoo time 😂

Him falling asleep in her arms 🥰

Thank you so much, Winter! ❤️❤️❤️

[mylifeasaserver]

Yet Another Interview

Had you told me a few years ago that I’d be working in a retail job and would pick up a restaurant job on the side I’d have thought you were either straight-up fucking with or mocking me.

Either would be appropriate really, but here we are. 

I show up the traditional 5 minutes early, and am directed to a table.

This place has an all-new management staff, which suits me just fine. The new GM comes out and introduces herself. She tells me she likes to make things as efficient as possible. This pleases me. 

With that in mind, she begins by telling me she pulled my file, and I had been labeled a “difficult” employee. What guarantee does she have that I won’t be difficult now?

I love this question, I really do. It sounds a bit aggressive, but in reality it gives me a chance to explain WHY I was “difficult.” I put that in quotes knowing full good and well that I was frustrating as hell for the previous managers who let bullshit flow freely.

My answer: I was difficult because things that needed addressed weren’t. Example: when I show up at 4PM and the tea expired at 10AM, but was inexplicably left for me to deal with. Now instead of taking care of my customers I’m scrubbing sugar from a tea urn, which is made a bigger problem because I’m the only server on, and it takes roughly 15 minutes to make more sweet tea because it brews slow as shit.

Whether she liked this answer or not remains to be seen. There was a little more boring back-and-forth.

Then she asked about availability. It felt weird telling her that I was available only when the pharmacy didn’t need me.

Fridays, due to massive short-staffing, are apparently mandatory now. We have a dealbreaker. I haven’t had a Friday unscheduled since I started at the new pharmacy. I let her know I’m only looking for 2, maybe 3 days a week. Just whatever my off days are. That might include the odd Friday, but also might not.

I let her know this, because it does no good to say I can work hours I can’t. 

“I’m not sure this will work out” she says, as though I’m desperate for a second job. I just want cash.

“That’s ok. Hey thanks for your time. Maybe it’ll work better in the future.”

And so we parted, and I figured that was the end of it.

Two days later, while not working, I get a phone call. They’re willing to back off their Friday requirement. But they’d like to know my schedule more than 2 weeks in advance. Fair enough. They’re letting me skip orientation.

Now you have to read about restaurant adventures again. Apologies to all 4 of you still reading this. -J

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

At the cafe library by the riverside

To beat the winter slump, I find that a change of scenery is super helpful, especially in an unfamiliar place. Spending the week at Lilypad Brook with Daisy Jane, Spencer, Sapphire, Steven, and Arabella has been chill, which was exactly what we needed.

Along with wandering around the shops I often found myself drawn to the river, mesmerized by the movement of the water and the cold breeze blowing against my face. Something about being there just makes me feel more awake, like a constant reminder that I’m right here, right at this moment not drifting off somewhere else. As someone who tends to be stuck in my own head, I feel like I need some sort of anchor to keep me grounded or else I might end up veering too far somewhere I’m probably not supposed to be.

Instead of feeling trapped or chained down, this kind of anchor is reassuring, like a safety net. While it does prevent me from drifting away, I still can move freely without fear of losing my way. This anchor is a guide, a helpful tool instead of something that restricts me, and I could use more of that in life.

When it gets too cold to be outside, I often found myself at Espresso Lane, a popular cafe library that has become our meet up spot. There, I’ve been doing art journal stuff or knitting my latest sweater while enjoying the food and coffee.

Art block has struck me again so I’ve been kinda slacking off on the art journaling aspect so my spreads have been feeling a bit uninspired. At least I can still fill the pages with my thoughts, though I’ll admit I’ve been having a bit of trouble with that too. Sometimes the words come easily and I’m going off on tangents, other times I have thoughts but struggle with getting them on paper. This journal entry started off on the former, but it looks like I’ve found my flow now so let’s hope this sticks.

See, this is part of the reason why I can’t be like Daisy Jane and Cheyenne in terms of being productive as a creative, I’m too fucking inconsistent. On one hand it’s a me thing, as in I don’t always like sticking to the same thing for too long and prefer to jump from one thing to another depending on when inspiration strikes. Like for now I’ve been more focused on knitting and cooking while journaling and drawing has kinda been on the side. But it’s also frustrating when I kinda have an idea of what I want to do but my brain refuses to focus so I have a bunch of ideas but they’re just sitting there because I don’t have the energy to think things through. I mean, I’ve found ways to work around it but I still can’t help but feel frustrated sometimes, but at least I’m no longer super hard on myself about it, so that’s an improvement.

So I’ve been focusing on drawing in my journal and knitting a new sweater, which is turning out good. I’m trying to be a bit more experimental with my journal spreads so while some of my drawings don’t turn out as good as I expected, at least I’m trying. Also, it just feels good to experiment and try something different, because even if it doesn’t work out, at least you gain something out of it. Like with drawing, even though it doesn’t feel like it, I find that I do have a style and I have preferences and that’s what makes my art unique. I may not stand out or have a trademark style but it’s the little things that makes my art mine, like how I do my line art or what colors I tend to gravitate towards. Art is self expression after all.

As for my sweater, I’m trying out this mock cable pullover in this lovely moonbeam color yarn I got on sale for a great deal. Raglan sweaters have become my new favorite thing so I definitely want to get more into expanding my me made closet some more. Cables aren’t something I gravitate towards because they seem like a lot of work so a faux cable sounds more appealing since no extra tools are necessary. Basically it gives the look of a cabled sweater without the extra effort and I’m all for that. As soon as I saw the pattern I knew I had to make it and now I’m almost done with the yoke.

Speaking of knitting, I should really invest in getting more DPNs because magic loop ain’t doing it for me anymore. While I’ve gotten used to the technique, it still puts a strain on my wrist and I just don’t like that. I’ve already invested in interchangeable needles so why not do the same for DPNs, for my wrist’s sake? Also, I’m pretty sure I’d get the sleeves done a lot faster and avoid second sleeve syndrome while I’m at it. Yeah, if I’m gonna keep making sweaters I’d better start looking into that.

So everyone’s been doing their own thing while meeting up at the cafe to hang out. Daisy Jane’s on a well deserved break after a busy holiday season. She, Almie, and I had to pack so many orders that we had to set aside a couple days specifically just for that. While it is overwhelming, it is a good thing that her shop is doing that well. Not only people are buying her stuff but it also means that Daisy Jane can afford to take a month or two off so she won’t get burnt out and I’m happy that she can do that. It took a lot of trial and error but Daisy Jane has achieved a balance between art and work that allows her to do what she loves without being burnt out. She deserves a nice long break without feeling guilty.

Steven, Spencer, and Sapphire, the time warp trio, have been doing well. Steven’s still with Eats & Treats and while desserts remain his forte, he has branched out to other videos too. He’s been focusing on music too and finally had the courage to post some of his songs online. While he has always been confident as a musician, he admits that he was a bit self conscious putting himself out there as a lot of his songs are super personal. So he was pleasantly surprised that his original compositions were not only well received but the fact that people have said they relate to his lyrics. Music has always been an outlet of self expression for him, something he found can be a good and bad thing for him.

Despite being a generally positive person, Steven admits to easily falling into negativity, which is understandable as I tend to do the same. A lot of it has to do with the fact that he’s lived through some difficult times and that has affected his relationship with music, something that has always been a big part of his life. After his father died, he pretty much lost interest in everything, which was why he abruptly left home, basically running away from life because it was just too much for him to deal with.

For me, the standout song Steven composed was Taking Back What’s Mine, which he says is one of the hardest for him to write. Basically it’s about his complicated feelings about the past and how he’s slowly healing from it, taking back his life by not letting the past cloud his future. Everything about the song - the lyrics, the music, and the way he sings it - I can’t help but replay the song several times because it really struck a chord with me. For him running away kinda helped him and set him back at the same time, so with this song, it kinda forces him to go back and confront his past problems, this time with the new experience and perspectives he gained and that allows him to finally close that chapter and fully move on with his life.

Sapphire and Spencer took his words to heart and finally confronted some unresolved issues from their past they’ve been putting off for a long time. At least with Sapphire she had an excuse with her time travel powers not working, which meant she couldn’t go back to her time safely. While she has regained some of her powers, it’s still not safe for her to travel alone so she needs someone to accompany her or else she might get stuck again.

It wasn’t easy for her, but Sapphire knew that sooner or later she had to go back to her time, she just didn’t expect it to take years before she was finally able to do so. She’s built a life for herself here with Steven and Spencer and she’s happy with it, so that added to her hesitation. After her best friend died, she pretty much had no reason to go back to her time where she wasn’t as happy. Funny thing was that when she was trapped here, things weren’t as good either as she and Spencer ended up running off, which was how they reunited with Steven.

Now that she can go back and communicate with her family, Sapphire promised them to keep in touch often. Her parents weren’t too happy to find out how much they missed out on her life but they’re glad she’s doing all right. It must’ve been disorienting for them to see their daughter go from a teenager to a young adult in a short amount of time (to them) but then again time travel shenanigans are weird.

She also visited Lizzie’s family and promised to keep in touch with them too but she admits that she’s not sure if she can keep up with her end of the bargain. Lizzie was her best friend and seeing her family kinda reopened the wound for her, especially since they just found out she’s never coming back, something Sapphire had to live with for years. While I hope Sapphire keeps her promise to keep in touch with them, I get why that’s hard for her.

Spencer has been busy with Written in Ink, his thrift shop. In fact, he’s here with Arabella on business while taking it easy at the same time. He also said that he’s been hanging out with his sister more, even invited her to spend the holidays with the gang. From what I know, Spencer always had a complicated relationship with Dylan for understandable reasons. Their father cheated on Dylan’s mother, which resulted in Spencer, and for whatever reason Spencer’s mother kept coming back to him. Spencer speculates maybe they blackmailed each other or something - not that it matters anymore since his mom’s dead and he’s not on speaking terms with his father.

Like Sapphire, Spencer’s also confronting his past, specifically his parents and how they screwed him over. His mother was the renowned time travel scientist Lynda Sage, the kind of person who looked good professionally but their personal life was in shambles. Spencer was close to her and looking back he said that maybe she relied on him as a crutch a little too much while putting work above him at the same time. I guess in other words that meant outside of work she had nothing else aside from her son, so that complicates things a lot. After losing his mother suddenly while stuck in an unfamiliar time with family who somewhat resented him for existing, it’s no wonder he wanted out. After Dylan, who he was starting to get along with, decided to live with her grandparents, Spencer and Sapphire had no reason to stick around so they packed their bags and hopped on a bus to get as far away as possible.

According to Sapphire, Dylan has been easy to get along with now that she’s no longer under her father’s influence. She said that Dylan had been hostile to her since she was a complete stranger who suddenly became part of the household - which is not an excuse but she can kinda see where she’s coming from - but over time they’ve been getting along. I mean if things were rough on Spencer and Dylan, imagine being Sapphire, who was basically the outsider. Well, at least she was able to live with them as she had absolutely nowhere to go, but that didn’t meant she wasn’t alienated by the others for basically being an extra burden to them. Again, it was a shitty situation all around so it’s no wonder why she was totally on board with taking off when things predictably didn’t work out. Why stay in a place where you’re clearly not wanted?

So Spencer and Dylan have been catching up as well as finally dealing with their own problems, most which stem from their father and Spencer’s mother. They’ve accepted that the past is in the past and they shouldn’t let other people’s mistakes and shortcomings dictate their relationship. I think that’s something a lot of people need to hear so I’m glad that they’re able to move past their parental issues. Hopefully one day I’ll finally get to meet Dylan and maybe hear about her side of the story if she’s willing.

As for Steven and Spencer’s time traveling abilities, they don’t use them often. Steven’s busy enough as it is so time travel isn’t a part of his life unless he’s accompanying Sapphire or maybe he needs some inspo for recipes or songwriting, which he says is basically all he does with his powers. Spencer is the same in terms of using time travel only to get a change in scenery, though he sometimes takes on jobs, but very rarely, He says he has a bit of a complicated relationship with time travel since it’s his mother’s thing and she kinda relied on her work too much. On one hand he wants to be like her and use his time travel powers to help people but at the same time it’s a bit hard for him to do that as it also reminds him too much of the past. At least, he says, the feeling of wanting to use his powers for good is stronger than the negative feelings attached to that so I hope he finds some peace with that someday.

Hanging out at the cafe knitting and/or journaling my thoughts away has been good for me. I don’t know what it is about this time of year that makes me feel uninspired and stuck so I’m glad to be able to get some creative inspiration back. Like the others, I too will keep moving forward and learn not to be too hard on myself when things don’t work out.

[violenthunted]

"actually, you do not need to leave your room. remain sitting at your table & listen. do not even listen, simply wait, be quiet", he murmurs, leaning slighly forward, his eyes gleaming with amusement as the words roll off his tongue like poetry, "still & solitary. the world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked, it has not choice, it will roll in ecstasy at your feet." his smile is an unsure thing, but it clings to his lips nonetheless. this is why he likes juno : she'll reach into his world without fear, pulling out threads upon threads of stories that have yet to unfold, pieces of stories he read a million years ago. other agents, as kind and mature as they are, always seem a bit unsure around spencer's genius, if only because it makes him operate on a different level as the rest of them. his thoughts, meticulous & disorganized, are ten times faster than theirs. his words are spoken with a level of certainty that few actually possess : the inner certitude that whatever is said is actually what is meant rather than a poor reflection of a wordless desire to express. whenever spencer desires to speak, it is no mistake. yet most run away from the flow of vowels and consonants that rush behind his teeth and roll of his tongue. not juno suarez, though. it is not that she always knows what he is talking about, nor is she always interested. but she always waits for him to make his point. there is tenderness in that waiting time.

this is most certainly why, upon her question, he does not freeze & frown. instead, he listens to her words very carefully, the question kept in the darkness of his mind for moments longer than what is usually polite. at least, it is evident he is thinking of his answer, rather than giving platitudes that will fulfill no one. "are you asking me as a colleague?" he finally wonders, his voice a little bit colder than it was seconds prior. there, the issue at the bau : it is terribly difficult to connect with one another without worrying about becoming a case study for their friends. he knows better than to try & avoid it from gideon or hotch. he knows derek and penelope are by far the best at separating, joining & mixing work and real-life feelings. but juno… he does not know. what he knows, on the other hand, is that if this conversation is on record he cannot afford to say the truth.

"if it's about my ability to do my job, then nothing is going on. i am fine." he believes it too, in a very matter-of-fact way, if only because he has to. if spencer reid does not have this job then he has nothing. the idea of stepping away fills him with so much dread he'd prefer to never talk to juno again than to tell the truth & risk losing his job. he knows that it means his priorities are all wrong - and with the still throbbing pain of needle wounds in his right forearm, well, let's simply say he knew he wouldn't be very logical anyway. the fact that his conclusion makes him disgusted with himself does not matter. instead, he simply looks at juno, waiting, impatiently, fingers holding his own knee under the plane's small table, in hopes of keeping it from bouncing.

    𝐡𝐞’𝐬   𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬   𝐨𝐟   𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬   𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲,   maybe   even   on   another   planet.   not   unreachable   though   because   he   could’ve   avoided   her   altogether,   perhaps   even   snapped   at   her   like   he   had   at   emily   and   she   wasn’t   sure   what   she’d   do   then.   juno   isn’t   really   great   at   this   whole   ‘   talking   ’   thing,   not   like   jj   or   penelope,   but   she’s   got   a   few   things   up   her   sleeves.   kafka   on   her   mind,   two   can   play   at   that   game   ❴   or   what   morgan   liked   to   call:   a   nerd   off   ❵.   

    “   i   want   to   change   my   place   in   the   world   entirely,   which   actually   means   that   i   want   to   go   to   another   planet,   ”   she   slips   her   book   out   of   sight,   clucking   her   tongue   and   waving   a   finger   at   him.   “   now,   doctor,   i’m   certain   kafka   wrote   that   with   you   in   mind.   ”   he   can’t   escape   her   eyes   so   easily,   she’s   been   taken   by   him   from   the   start.   a   twenty   two   year   old   bau   agent   with   more   than   one   doctorate,   who   wouldn’t   be?   what   had   started   like   a   scientific   sort   of   awe   had   transformed   into   an   on   again,   off   again   comradery.   she   hadn’t   had   many   of   those   in   her   life   and   who   had   she   become?   so   fearful   of   losing   even   the   slightest   gesture   of   friendliness   between   them.   juno   didn’t   need   gideon   insisting   in   her   ear   to   talk   to   him,   make   him   feel   included   because,   spencer   was   nice   to   talk   to.   she   always   left   their   conversations   feeling   …   well,   what   would   you   call   it?   

❴ what kind of emotion was this? her limbs had froze and she couldn’t move her fingers, couldn’t open her mouth and she just stared at jj in disbelief. ‘ what do you mean he has him? ’ and derek was better at hiding his shock, his anger. it wasn’t jj’s fault but how the fuck was spencer going to fend himself? he had just been cleared to carry a weapon. this isn’t happening. this isn’t happening. she watches him through a small, static screen and feels every nerve in her body awaken. this was the same spencer she’d met on her first day, with anna karenina in his hands, being beaten and prodded. gideon, do something. this wasn’t what she had signed up for. morgan, do something. ❵ she’d never had friends like these before and it was beginning to dawn on her the many ways she could lose them. not because of her ugly secrets or her tortured psyche, but by forces outside of her control.

    “   so,   ”   juno   begins,   gentle   yet   a   little   hesitant   because   she   didn’t   want   to   make   him   feel   like   a   child   like   the   others   did.   no,   she   was   concerned   for   him   and   wanted   to   know   where   he   was   if   not   at   sea.   “   what’s   going   on?   and   don’t   say   you’re   tired   because   …   it’s   more   than   that.   ”   careful,   careful,   she   tells   herself.   how   can   she   be   reassuring   without   that   interrogating   tone   of   an   agent?

[twistedmusings]

Wake Up From Your Dream

A/N: I don't even know what I can SAY to this one except...I think I was so angry at not writing that I wrote smut outta SPITE? Can I be so angry with myself that I write Malleus smut to just get something out there? I guess I can. Anyways this ask certainly let my imagination fly q wq

Warnings: Non-con making its way into dub-con, manipulation, impregnating sex and Malleus realizing that family is really important.

You needed to find your way back to Night Raven College.

It has been so long since you’ve been back there, laughing and walking around as if there was no trouble in the world. Nevermind that you weren’t anywhere close to home and nevermind that your family was seeking you out.

As long as there was a possibility of you finding your way home, you had pretended that everything was going to be alright.

You were still a stranger to this world, you had no ties to this world and there would be no reason for you to stay once Crowley found your way back home. It was wonderful making friends with such a variety of people and watching them all grow in their own way. The way you knew you would grow from this experience as well.

Watching Ace and Deuce really come into themselves and their Unique Magic, watching the dorm leaders step into their positions of power and truly start to make a name for themselves that would help them out in their own version of the ‘real’ world. Riddle had gotten a wonderful position befitting of his family name, Leona was actually graduating, Azul was said to open a Monstro Lounge in the Coral Sea while Kalim had started investing time in his father’s trade without having Jamil help him. Even Idia was starting to take strides in his own field!

And you were proudest of Malleus. One simple conversation outside of Ramshackle had turned into a friendship you thought you would never forget. It was so wonderful to see him interact more with students, shyly following after you as you pushed him to talk more to others despite his position. That was what college was for, right? To experience new things and find your future--

You just didn’t think that Malleus would take it that far.

Was it because he was spoiled? No, even though he was born in a monarchy he still did his best to remain kind to others, especially his subjects. You were sure he was going to make a kind king in the future, even if you never got to see with your own two eyes.

You pull the hood over your head as you enter a bath house, the fae receiving you with a curious look and a smile as you hand her 2000 madols.

“Will you be booking a room tonight as well?”

“Just a simple shower and bath, that is all.”

If you were to make a guess, you were in the borders of the Valley of Thorns, a more rural area compared to the now rather modernized capital. You had stolen enough money to get you by for a few trips and you knew that places like these were the best at getting you directions. It had been a bit of a grueling trip, testing your knowledge of the fae language as well as avoiding questions about who you were and why you so desperately needed to make your way back to such a prestigious college. In a sense, you kept it minimal.

You needed to get back home.

“It’s fine. You’re fine. It’s fine. You’re fine.”

The mantra you kept repeating to yourself was whispered under your breath as you removed your articles of clothing slowly, still looking around to see if anybody had followed you in. But this is what was raising all of the hairs on your body, wasn’t it? This constant vigilance that didn’t let you sleep at night. You needed to relax, no one else would come this far.

You feel the fatigue melt as several days of walking are washed right off your body, a smile slowly creeping up on your face as you wash the dirt and oil from your hair.

It would be fine.

You would make it to Night Raven College and sneak into the Hall of Mirrors before wishing yourself back home. Crowley had said that they had pinned down the world you lived in and only after you make your wish would the connection be broken. This most likely meant that the connection was still intact since you didn’t even get a chance to to look at the mirror before you were whisked away.

Everything was going to work itself out, that’s the most you could promise yourself.

The bath is heavenly, the temperate water cooling you down from the hot shower as you look around.

There were no other patrons.

“Good.”

You lean back and press your head against a soft pillow of towels, enjoying the silence as you feel your worries soften while thinking back to what you would do when you were back home. It had been so long since you’ve seen some of your friends, your family was probably worried sick and you still had your own plans you wanted to get through.

If you had time, you could maybe drop by to see how your first year friends were doing?

Or were they in their third year now?

Wouldn’t that be a sight to see?

Your eyes close as you let yourself relax entirely, almost succumbing to sleep.

Only for a hand to grab your throat, the other covering your eyes as you hear a familiar chuckle that tenses your body up and breaks your heart.

“I am afraid we will have to postpone this shower.”

Tears well up in the corner of your eyes as you hear the sound of footsteps into the area, most likely the royal guard.

“Lilia--”

“You’d do well to stay put lest they chase after you.”

The hands covering your eyes pull back as you see a teasing smile looking down pitifully at your fresh set of tears.

“It has taken far too long to find you, Your Majesty.”

-----

“HUMAN!”

“[Y/N]-san!”

Lilia smiles as he leads you by the hand, the royal guard following close behind as Sebek and Silver join him.

“He might have already woken up, Father.”

“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? DO YOU KNOW WHAT MY YOUNG MASTER HAS GONE THROUGH?”

“Sebek.” Lilia looks at his charge, “Quiet. Malleus might still be sleeping.”

Silver takes one peek at you, trying to meet your gaze but pulling away when he sees that the veil Lilia had put on you is blocking anybody’s stares from seeing your face. In fact, the second in command had put you in one of the traditional outfits for fae royalty, complete with a light veil that flowed down from the silver circlet placed on your head.

“Excellent.”

Lilia turns his attention to you and laughs.

“He has been absolutely miserable since you left. It was quite a surprise to all of us when you managed to leave the palace walls. None of us thought that you had really done it, especially him, and it really was a hassle to search the palace up and down to see just where our little human had run off to.”

His voice drops to a whisper as he brings your hand up to his lips.

“I’ll make sure to punish you for that later.”

The older fae leads you along as you finally reach your destination, smiling as he knocks on large wooden doors while pushing you slightly to stand in front of everybody.

An answer he was going to get by the end of the night.

“Malleus.”

No answer. He tests the doors and nods when he sees they are unlocked, opening them as he leads you to step inside so that you both could see the figure drenched in moonlight, looking out the window as if awaiting for an answer.

Lilia waits for his other charge to say anything but shrugs as he looks at you with a smile and a bow.

“We are glad to have you back, Your Majesty.”

The door closes with a loud click as you turn your eyes to look up at the imposing figure, your nails digging into your fingertips enough to draw blood as you try to hold back from screaming and shouting at him to stop acting like such a child. Yet you do not wish to anger him, at least to save yourself from any sort of harsher punishment.

So instead you make your way over to the bed--

Only for the fae to turn around, grab your wrist and slam your back into the rough stone wall. Bright green eyes glare down at you as you wince in pain, still looking away from him but letting out a yelp when Malleus’s fingers grab your chin and force you to look at him in the eye.

“Why did you run?”

He really had no idea, did he?

“Because I don’t belong here--”

Malleus tightens his hold on your wrist.

“We’ve discussed this before, child of man, you belong here just like anybody else, you are my Queen--”

“Malleus wake UP!”

You push against his hold but the fae’s hold gets tighter, most likely leaving a mark. But that wouldn’t deter you, not anymore, you were going to tell him.

“I’m not from this world! Coming to Twisted Wonderland was just an accident! A stupid, stupid accident that no one bothered to fix! And just when we were close to making it right you---you--!”

Shit, you’re crying again.

“I have people waiting for me. Just like you had a family waiting for you. I came to the Valley of Thorns thinking that I was supporting you during your coronation but you just--made a decision entirely by yourself and announced me as yours! Why did you lie to me? To them?!”

Malleus’s hold softens as you finally let your tears flow freely, wishing to wipe them away only due to how weak they were making you look.

“...did you not say you loved me?”

“I did! I did but--Malleus after what you did I can’t--”

He lets go of your wrist only to cup your face as he leans down to press his lips on your cheek, his tongue licking up the warm tears as you grab hold of his wrists to try and push him away.

“Do you miss your family?”

You nod as he moves to kiss the corner of your eyes.

“More than anything…”

The dragon fae hums, letting his lips stay where they were a few seconds longer before chuckling as he pulls you close.

“I see--I really have been cruel to you, haven’t I?”

Your heart nearly leaps out of your throat at his words, hands clutching at his robes as you quickly nod. Maybe this was it, maybe it had taken you breaking down to let him see reason?

Please. Please!

“...A family.”

Malleus’s words are like dripped honey as a thought formed in his head, the thought taking shape and form as his hands clutched you tighter.

“Then we’ll just need to make a family of our own…”

-----

Hands clutch at his sheets as Malleus takes in the shape under him.

How beautiful could you be? How complex? To him it was as if not a day had passed since you first met. What had been mere curiosity had delved into deep affection and blossomed into a love that Malleus would only read about in fairytales. The sort of books that led him to believe in soulmates, in happily ever after’s and the possibility of spending the rest of your life with the one you loved.

And yes, you weren’t a fae, but the power of his magic was grand enough to keep you tied to him for the rest of eternity.

His lips can’t help but seek out yours as he thinks about how he is the one who will decide when you die.

This love hadn’t started out like this. What he felt for you had been a bit more relaxed, a lot softer and dreamier. You had confessed to him after his Overblot incident and he had gladly accepted your feelings. He was still keen on finding you a way home and promised himself to not let any moment be wasted in thinking how you soon would be far away from him.

Every day was spent happily with you, the rest of the school year flying by as you both enjoyed the time you still had together.

But Malleus was still a dragon at heart, a fae that yearned and longed to take and take.

So when thoughts about you leaving started to make their way to the forefront of his mind, not even your constant love and affection could keep him from his instincts.

You would leave him to go back to your world. Go back to the normal and the familiar. As you walked your path, you would eventually find someone that enchanted you the way he had, all ending with you walking down a beautiful aisle to your now beloved.

A person that wasn’t...him.

As the days of his third year started to run to a close, his hold on you had become a lot tighter, his kisses a lot more possessive and in the end he had invited you to watch his coronation as he entered his fourth and final year.

With his announcement of making you his Queen.

“Malleus! Please I can’t--I’m not ready--!”

He let Lilia make up some story about you not returning to Night Raven, fooling Crowley into believing that you had found your future in the Valley of Thorns with him. The announcement of you taking up the role of Queen had been surprising but Malleus had woven the story in such a way that there had been talks of having it printed for others to read.

It was a wonderful ending to your love story, you ending up in his arms. But something was missing…

Malleus was glad that you had given him the answer.

Both of your knees were on either side of his waist, your hands clutching at whatever they could as his cock buried itself deep into your cunt. The veil was long forgotten as his robes and your own are thrown carelessly around the room while you wail and scream at being broken into by such a thick length. The small sight of blood on his cock made Malleus smile as he pushed in further, the tightness that was pushing him back slowly opening up for him as he watched you do your best to fit him inside.

It would be fine, you would be fine.

With a growl he finally bottoms out, two hands holding your hips and forcing you down to take all of him as the tip of his cock pressed right under your womb--

He shivers as you tighten up again, leaning down to lick up the trail of tears on your cheek before eating up your tiny whimpers with a hungry kiss.

“Here...right here is where our family will start.”

A large hand takes yours as Malleus puts it right over the small bulge on your stomach, your eyes growing wide as you realize just how deep inside he is. He kisses you again, not daring to break away as he lets a trail of saliva dangle from his lips to yours, the clear liquid disappearing into your mouth as your body relaxed and your eyes grew hazy.

“Do you love me, child of man?”

It was a simple question, but your brain seemed muddled from his kiss. Dragons tended to excrete a certain liquid as they got ready to mate, the experience painful even within his own species but being eased with the help of saliva, sweat or cum.

And with the way he was pressed against you, his sweat matted on your skin as he let more of his spit drip down his tongue and onto yours...surely the answer would come the more you two worked to start your family.

Malleus hardly gave you any time to recover as he started to move, his eyes entranced with the way he disappeared into you with each thrust. Your mind was still muddled but your body was already eagerly accepting him, your legs wrapping around him slowly before locking him in place as he repeated the question.

“Do you love me, child of man?”

You open your mouth but the only word that comes out is a plea for him to go faster.

Which Malleus gladly listens to.

It didn’t take long for him to start pounding into you at a brutal pace, every thrust having the tip of his cock slamming against your womb as your toes curled from the pleasure of taking him so deep. His cock disappeared inside your tiny cunt, shaft now coated not just with blood but with your arousal as well. The bed creaked in protest while the sounds of the bed frame hitting the wall helped him keep time, Malleus leaning back down to kiss you again as your lips this time part eagerly and sucked on his tongue while your hands clutched his shoulders and horns.

Cries turned into happy moans, your sad and abandoned look now one of pure ecstasy as your pussy flutters and tightens around him, pushing him to go harder and harder so he could---!

“[Y/N]--!”

Your legs close tighter around him as you bury your face on the crook of his neck, your orgasm being ripped from you unexpectedly as Malleus halted his movements with a stiff body. He drops his head on your shoulder as your legs keep him in place.

“Malleus...ah--!”

He groans as he paints the inside of your walls white, the warmth of his cum filling your womb to the point that what you hadn’t taken merely dripped out onto the now stained sheets. Malleus lifts his head to look down at you, smiling as he sees your eyes staring up at him eagerly despite how much you had protested before.

“A family…”

You smile as Malleus nods, your hands going all the way to your stomach as you feel the warmth start to twist your brain even more.

“A family with you…how wonderful…”

Arms wrap around him as Malleus kisses a trail from your shoulder to your lips. He just needed to ask you one last time.

“Do you love me, child of man?”

With a hum, your answer is whispered into his ear as Malleus closes his eyes as he realizes that this is where his happily ever after would finally start.

“I love you Malleus, more than anything else.”

[r0und3bitch]

Twin Flames ❤️‍🔥 Blurb: Sunday Scaries

Series Masterlist

Warnings: swearing, underage drinking

Notes: The first ever Twin Flames blurb! Super excited to share it with all of you. This takes place during Part 2, within the first few weeks that Y/N is in the Outer Banks. Welcome and appreciate any and all thoughts you guys have!! ….Peep the little shout out/call out at the end to one of the best series ever fucking made, The Internship 😉🤠 @lurkymurker couldn’t help myself on this one when I thought of the idea, love you till the end of time bestie.

One of the first things Rafe noticed about you was that you often had a camera in your hand. Whether it was your super high tech looking lens that likely cost more than his whole bike or just your phone, you could usually be found snapping pictures of the events unfolding around you, always able to capture the best candids.

Today was no different.

It was a particularly scorching summer Sunday. You’d all been nursing one of the notorious weekend hangovers throughout the morning and collectively decided the only way to power on was a little hair of the dog and sunshine on the Cameron’s boat, My Druthers.

You can’t get a hangover if you don’t stop drinking… right?

As the music blared throughout the open air, Rafe watched as you aimed the camera up at Sarah and the youngest Cameron sibling. You'd all met up at Tanneyhill that morning, sporting matching headaches and swim suits. When Wheezie had asked if she could come along, you’d been entirely too quick to reply with a “Hell yes!” before Sarah could respond with the inevitable “no way” that was bound to follow. Wheezie was thrilled.

Rafe was broken from his thoughts as you sat back down next to him, showing him the picture you’d just taken. Wheezie had her tongue out, sassy as ever. The image made Rafe beam back up at her.

“She’s too good at being in front of the camera.” As you showed him another picture. “I bet she takes after you in that way, huh?”

Rafe spluttered as he took a sip of his beer, “What?!”

“Oh c’mon, you’re joking right?” He just continued to stare at you, shaking his head slightly.

“Hmmmm…. Let’s see. I’d peg you at about 6’3…. Blonde hair, baby blue eyes, boyishly handsome face…” you waved your hands towards his figure as his heart started to race.

“You have model material written all over you.” You replied with a slight eye roll, cracking open the beer Noah had just handed you.

You stole a look over at Rafe again, knowing full well you were making him blush, grinning a knowing smile as you eyed him up and down.

“Boy Wonder… I totally get it now… it’s actually pretty fitting.” You wink at him as you casually take a sip of your beer, clocked live time by Noah who can’t help but bite back a laugh at you two idiots.  

Rafes unable to form words at your insinuation, choosing instead to change the subject.

“Thought you were going to show me how to work that thing, not tell me I’m destined to be in front of it…”

You smile and with another eye roll move closer to him as you hand him the camera. He listens intently to your every word, showing him the various settings and what not. Truth be told though, he’s having a hard time staying focused as you inch closer to him.

He’s been drooling over you in this fucking bikini since the moment you walked into Tanneyhill.

Hours, and dozens of beers and White Claws later, all of you (except Wheezie) were royally smashed.

Rafe and Noah had been doing back flips off the boat, jumping into the water for the last several minutes and needed to take a break before their alcohol made a reappearance…..

Just as Rafe climbs the last step of the ladder, his eyes land on you and he freezes.

You’re wearing his button up he’d worn over his swim shorts, the front completely (and beyond temptingly) undone, the material flowing freely around the dangerously seductive fabric hugging your body that he’d already had a hard enough time ripping his eyes from all day.

He groans internally at the sight as Noah turns to him, eyebrow raised.

Fuck, or was that out loud?

You’re seated on the bench next to Kelce, perched on your knees. As if you can sense him, you throw your head back over your shoulder and lock eyes, positively beaming.

She’s wearing my fucking shirt.

He feels like a goddamn King but tries to play it cool as he approaches the group.

“Holy shit, so you guys have lived in how many different places?” Kelce asked as Sarah did another cannon ball off the boat into the water, almost falling on her ass in the process.

Noah sighs deeply, his words a tiny bit slurred. “Shiiiit, too many t’count!”

You’d already started rattling off locations at light speed.

“California, Arizona, Nevada. Shit, Utah for half a year, you remember how fuckin whack that was?” You ask, smacking Noah’s arm as you stand up to grab another beer, allowing Rafe to get an even more perfect view of you in his shirt.

How the material comes down to your mid thighs…. How the collar on the one side is drooping down, exposing your bare shoulder. Fuck….

“Colorado, Miami…The Outer fucking Banks…”

“Hey now…” Kelce threatens, jokingly raising a finger at you.

He goes to pinch your side and you squeal loudly, alcohol in full effect as Sarah climbs back into the boat.

“Hands off, you man handler!”

“More of a woman handler, ya know what I’m saying?”

“Bro, ya gotta stop!!” Topper groans next to him as you fake gagging sounds, stopping altogether when you register the song.

“Oh my god, this song!”

The next moment is a blur of girls and giggles as Rafe watches you, Sarah and Wheezie jump up and start dancing in sync.

“Holy shit, we were just playing this song the other day!” Wheezie’s already pulling her phone out, no doubt opening up her favorite app.

Did Wheezie swear? Is she dancing?!

“This song came out before you were born…” Rafe hears Kelce say to Wheezie. “Shit, this song came out before I was born! How do you know this song?”

Rafe glances at Noah, understanding now after a few weeks that both girls knowing this song was without a doubt your doing.

Rafe watches as Wheezie turns the camera on selfie mode, aiming it back at you and her as the chorus hits, obviously filming a video. You and her belt out the words into the camera and at the last moment you wrap your arm around Wheezies neck, pulling her flush against you as she giggles, drunkenly planting a kiss right on her cheek as she continues recording. The laugh he hears from his littlest sister makes the hairs on his arm stand up, even in this humid, sticky weather.

His heart flutters at the sight, at how easy Wheezie is letting her guard down in front of you, at the fact that you were both making each other so clearly happy, at the fact that you were wearing his fucking shirt.

The song changes again and there’s a sea of groans and complaints as a country song starts playing, all eyes pointed to Topper, it being his phone playing the music.

“Topper!” You drunkenly shout out as you lean onto Sarah for support, which is a poor choice on your part as Sarah is somehow more drunk than you. The result is both of you stumbling hard into the table in the middle of the deck, knocking over a sea of drinks. Thankfully, everyone is too drunk to care.

“Dude, c’mon you gotta turn this shit off!” Kelce yells.

You magically stumble over to Topper, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him to dance.

“I always knew you were a country boy!”

“Noooooo, Y/N not you! Don’t break my heart like that by saying you like country music!” Kelces face is in disbelief.

Topper looks way too thrilled as he gladly takes your hand to attempt to spin you around, fully aware he’s off beat but the alcohol doing little to slow him down as you laugh wildly.

“Oh yeah!” Noah jokes as he does a little dance move himself. “She went through a whole ass country phase for a year or so, it was awful!”  

“Cut me some slack! I was 16… and that is a great fucking song!” You yell back as a near scream leaves your mouth as Topper full on picks you up, both of you belting out the words as loud as you can.

“They have lost their goddamn minds!” Kelce groans. “Where is this motherfuckers phone?!”

“Oh hell no! Don’t you dare fucking change it!” You yell back at Kelce.

He’s already spotted it but Wheezie’s closer and is already making a mad dash, small hands easily pulling it into her grasp as she smiles mischievously at Kelce, her loyalties obviously drawn.

“Wheezie, Baby!”

Topper is left in the dust as you sprint to Wheezie (if what you could call whatever that was in your drunken state a sprint) pulling her into another sloppy hug that she happily returns.

“You’re the fucking best!”

She flashes that signature, near the point of cocky, Wheezie smile that Rafe knows all too well as Sarah huffs.

“Ugh, you guys are so annoying!”

“No, this fucking music is annoying!” Kelce quips back.

“Oh shut up, manhandler!” You whip around to Kelce entirely too fast and lose your balance.

As if on cue, Rafes strong arms reach out to catch you, your weight fully supported by his own in your drunken state.

“Whooooops!” His arms stay around you as you turn your head back to meet his gaze. The sight of him and his gorgeous face making you want to do stupid things.

Holy shit, I need to chill out.

Rafe doesn’t let go yet either and instead just looks down on you for a moment before speaking.

“Nice shirt…”

“Thanks, I got it from some model…he’s super hot.”

“That’s it…” Rafe rolls his eyes playfully.

“The world renowned self titled Kook Prince… The Prince that was Promised if you will….”

He doesn’t miss the Game of Thrones reference… (you had to do little to no begging to get Rafe to start watching the entire series with you starting at season one after discovering he had never watched it..)

He whistles low, leveling you with a “you better run while you can” look before throwing you over his shoulder in an instant.

“You’re going in the water!”

“No!! No no no no I’ll ruin your shirt!” But he’s already walking over to the edge.

“I don’t give a shit about the shirt, sweetheart.”

Somewhere deep within you, even through all of the adrenaline pumping through your veins, you feel his words ignite a flame.

He throws you around in his arms like it’s the easiest thing in the world, making your mind go to places you’d really rather it wouldn’t, his next words not helping in the slightest.

“Looks way better on you anyways…” turning you slightly so he can see your face now but you’re still captured in his grasp. For a moment, he falters, willing himself to pull back and not throw you in the water after all…. Until your next words.

“Oh, I don’t know about that….” As your eyes flirt with him up and down.

“…Boy Wonder.” You bite down on your lip and Rafe nearly loses his mind, an audible huff leaving his lips as he struggles for a moment. The look you're giving him, daring him to throw you in… almost like you want it.

When he doesn’t respond quick enough, you grasp tighter onto him, nearly begging.

“Do it…” you whisper.

He only locks eyes with you for a split second before using all his muscle and strength to throw you over the side of the boat, launching you into the water as the most beautiful laugh Rafe has ever heard spills out into the air.

The feeling of your entire body being thrown into the water like that by Rafes strong arms is the most indescribable feeling.

Everyone laughs as you swim back up to the boat. Rafe has an idea as he clicks open his phone, watching you near the back of the boat, untangling yourself from his soaking wet shirt before making your way back up the ladder.

Rafe points his phone down at the absolute perfect moment, snapping a picture of you as you look away from the camera. He quickly puts it behind his back as you turn towards him, the inevitable grin he seems to always plaster on your face in full effect, as he reaches a hand down to help you up.

“Let me help ya up, country girl.”

“Ohhhhh, country girl, that’s a new one!” As you hand him back his now soaking wet shirt.

“Nah, You can keep it.” He winks, not moving to take it out of your hands.

What on earth would you do with his shirt?

“Thinking about getting you a cowboy hat though, for sure!” He sets his large hand over the top of your head in a dome shape. “Think it’s a pretty good look on you, what’d ya think?”

“Oh, totally!”

Rafes is not sure why he’s not surprised, of course you're playing along with this.

“But only if it’s pink….”

“Pink…?”

“Mhm!” You smile brightly. “And fuzzy!”

“A fuzzy, pink cowboy hat?”

“Ugh…” you playfully scoff, fully intent on just being annoying now. “C’mon Rafe, it’s the 21st century, we can call them cowgirl hats now…”

“I swear to god, your ass is about to go back into the water!”

Your laugh pierces the air again as you two play the cat and mouse game further.

Noah and Sarah on the other hand catch each other’s glances across the table and share a knowing smirk at their two siblings, watching your swaying figures before Noah throws her a wink.

No further words are needed as you all carry on your Sunday of complete debauchery, knowing full well you’re all going to pay for it come morning.

But when morning comes, pounding headache present and sunglasses banishing the harsh light from his eyes, Rafe only then remembers the photo he took. Before he can overthink he takes out his phone and hits the “edit” button….

Rafes Instagram Story:

Soundtrack:

Track 1 - The Song Wheezie, Sarah and Y/N dance to on the boat.

“This song came out before you were born.”

Track 2 - The country song that ends up playing from Toppers phone, irritating everyone but Y/N.

“I always knew you were a country boy.”

….

Taglist: @lurkymurker @mackenzielovee @mor-bs @totallynotkaibiased @aaleksmorozova @onlygetaway @itsalexwin @tsnelf7

[unohanadaydreams]

Polyandrous, sexy, hot relationship between fem reader and Shinji, Rose and Kensei😈😈😈🔥🔥🔥 (sorry, I had a typo in the previous ask😓🤭🙃😄)

Oh my god. Like, imagine being the filling between three captains….real hot girl shit.

Features: Smut, a lil angst, and me bending my back to make these three bang reader and each other.

this is fantasy not a how-to guide on poly relationships thanks.

largely unedited bc its thirst post tower content, and pretty much all consent is implied instead of strictly stated. i checked with all 4 of them though and they told ME it’s consensual. Except Kensei. He told me to fuck off ):

Triple Threat Team-up

(Shinji Hirako x Rose Otoribashi x Kensei Muguruma x F!Reader):

How it seeded:

The relationship started with Rose. He wooed you with his flowery words and romantic fashion, paired well with his cool demeanor. Although some of his ideas on love are dated, he’s not one you could call traditional.

As a group, the vizards have endured much and gained little unless they gave to each other. When Shinji walks in on you and Rose naked, using his shunpo to grab a CD before leaving, you find it odd. Rose does not.

He admits that most of the vizards have been some form of...thing at some time in the past. “You can’t be too shocked,” he says. “It’s hard to stay warm in a warehouse.” The phrasing is odd, letting you know there’s something more he means than winter temperatures.

How it took root:

Shinji is odd too. Casual, yet guarded in a way that becomes awkward should he be forced to relax. There is always a joke or gross face or biting word that keeps him at a distance.

The trick is alcohol, like it is for most people. Rose displays you, a bloom with glistening petals and fragrant scent at every private party he arranges. And eventually, Shinji stops finding reasons to flee, his fingers skimming your petal-soft skin as he kisses Rose.

The two of you lure Shinji in, kissing him softly, feeding him well, and paying him attention when he knocks on the window. Who doesn’t love a stray coaxed into domestication?

Rose speaks like he’s telling a story, his eyes most often on yours, his calloused fingers feeling their way down your body until you have to break the eye contact. You never feel like he’s playing you--using you like one does an instrument--, not at all. If anything, you feel as though he’s teaching you a dance, his steady instruction bringing you to revelation each lesson.

Shinji’s eyes are always, always moving to drink in your body as he moves with you, his mouth just as restless. He can never settle on the perfect position, always toying with having more of his body on yours versus more of your body on display. Each time is a revolving puzzle of moments that end well and make him want to test again.

Together, they are easily overwhelming, even when their focus is on each other. Rose’s proclivity for words gets Shinji’s skin flushed as much as yours. Shinji’s restless approach to sex keeps your eyes excited, the play of their bodies combining with the rise and fall of their voices to make for a thrilling, climactic show.

How it sprouted:

If anyone has taken the repositioning to the Seireitei like a bullet, it’s Kensei. He’s not one for shows of sentimentality, leaving the vizards in the human world be, half to keep from missing them and half to stay sane away from them. And the separation feels cruel, a sloppy sever somewhere inside of him that he refuses to see.

The news of Rose and Shinji sharing you wrinkles his nose at first. Really? Is it some kind of middle finger to the “Man”? Seems ostentatious, how open they are about it, like shoving their tongues down your throat in his personal quarters is acceptable. Sure, he’s cooking with his full, undivided attention on the kitchen, but Kensei still has ears. No way would he purposefully hone in on the wet sounds and mewling of you being pressed in between their bodies in the other room as his sauce breaks.

After a sound lecture, Rose and Shinji seem to get the message. Sort of. The couple nights a week that they insist are Kensei’s turn to cook, a nostalgic bit that squeezes his heart enough to agree to, still happen. But it’s just you and Kensei.

And eventually, Kensei can’t help but ask the questions he wants to know, albeit fueled by visible frustration. It’s aggressive and a bit mocking, how he asks, but you answer freely. Which doesn’t help. Just like waking up wet in the pants and sweaty night after night at the thought of picking you up and fucking you in front of Shinji and Rose to teach them a lesson on home etiquette doesn’t help.

The need and want and well of shitty fucking loneliness comes to a head when Rose and Shinji invite themselves back to dinner one night, Shinji’s hand toying with your thigh as Rose whispers something that glazes your eyes.

One of the pots over boils when Shinji palms between your legs with one hand, his other coaxing a saucer of sake past your lips. Rose is between you and Shinji, his fingers kneading your waists.

That’s it, really. The food getting fucked over by his own inattention. The way your thighs are shaking as your kimono is un-tucked. The far too comfortable looks on Shinij and Rose’s degenerate fucking faces.

He makes what he’s been dreaming about for months into a reality, your squeaking morphing into low moans as he pounds into you, picking you up and away from the other two vizards each time they reach for you. They even beg a little and Kensei ignores their panting, their playing with one another, and pretends he’s teaching them a lesson.

How it blossomed:

Alcohol, food, and sex can’t soothe every tear, but they patch up enough to keep the wheels of your relationship greased. The sober statement that you are all in a relationship with each other does hit one of you with a splitting force at times. It’s not uncommon for someone to pull away, unsure how much their needed, wanted, or meant for such a thing.

But there are always enough hands to come around them, reassuring them back.

Kensei doesn’t lose his prickly sensibilities, almost never letting more than one of you touch him at once. He favors positions where he’s able to stand or kneel above one or two people, close enough be inside someone, but far enough to get away should be too much for him. Kensei is most uncomfortable fucking Rose; the dirty words constantly dripping from Rose’s lips and his eyes so focused on Kensei’s over stimulating. Kensei usually presses a hand over his face, muffling his look and words in one swift move.

He likes everyone having their place, approaching sex with three other people like a scene he’s seen before. Kensei loves attention, too. Rarely, he’ll let that show. Dropping his need to be in charge, he’ll let all three of you treat him to the full weight of your bodies and all that comes with it, usually three hands tugging cum to spill over his stomach as all of your mouths leave dark marks over the span of his body. Usually, he wants someone to drive into or a head to force deeper on his cock.

Rose loves those times the most, where everyone is stripped bare of their baggage, just bodies reaching for one another. Like those concerts where everyone is squished together, all feeling the music separately but together. His enjoyment of having some control is less about the power and more about the flow--it’s easier to make the ending come at just the right time when there isn’t a meaty hand squishing his face into the mattress. Anything that leaves his mouth free pleases him, especially if he’s able to drape himself over or in between bodies, guiding them closer to orgasm with verbal and physical encouragement.

Shinji doesn’t care about the positions or pace or anything outside of him being involved. He’s there and that’s vulnerability in itself. Saying that, the playing that thrills him most is the kind that makes him feel like he’s spilling over from contact alone. His body pressed under yours, his cock sliding at your back as you’re fucked above him. Or someone being hugged to him as he lays on his side, both he and them being fucked closer. His mouth is always happy to be at work, the flat of his tongue flicking his piercing over hot, puffy flesh.

Over all, your sex life probably has a color coated calendar--courtesy of Kensei--and you’re often doing overtime if you’re counting orgasms as work.

[messy-nonbinary]

Little Girl in Training

Chapter 2: Break the Rules, Get a Punishment

TW: Dark!Natasha, forced age regression, forced feeding, waterboarding/drowning, md/lg dynamics, kidnapping, lemme know if more is needed

Paring: Dark!Natasha x fem!reader

Chapter Summary: Natasha shows you what happens to little girls who act like brats.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

*GIF not mine

It was hard for you to fall asleep, the eeriness of your situation keeping you awake. But eventually, you did. But it seemed as though you got absolutely no sleep because you were still exhausted when you woke up.

Natasha had awoken you but you had no idea what time it was. “Come on, Lovebug. You have to take a bath before breakfast.” She said, unlocking the cuffs and, surprisingly, picking you up with ease.

She adjusted you onto her hip, like a mother would her child, as she walked you out of the room and to what you assumed was the bathroom.

“Natasha what are-” Before you could finish, Natasha slapped you face. “I know you just started, but it’s Mommy. Okay?” She said, placing you onto the toilet seat. “Na- Mommy..” You inwardly cringed at the word. “Why did you kidnap me?”

Natasha just hummed as she ignored your question and bent over and filled up the tub, adding soap for bubbles. While the tub filled, she turned her attention towards you, reaching over to lift your shirt. You stopped her, tugging the shirt downwards so that she couldn’t lift up. “No! Stop!” You yelled trying to unleash your shirt from her deathly grasp.

“Don’t you want to be clean? You’re still in the same clothes as yesterday.” She said, letting go of your shirt. “Just let me take it off. I’m sure a bath will make you feel so much better.” She said, placing a hand on your shoulder reassuringly. But you were pretty sure it was a threat.

You nodded and began to take your own shirt off but Natasha stopped you. “No, Lovebug. I’ve got to take it off.” She grabbed your wrist and shoved your arm through your sleeve, doing the same with the other wrist. Once she took the shirt off, she pulled down your pants, throwing them in a hamper, along with the shirt. Then the moment you dreaded: your undergarments.

She was quick to unhook your bra and take it off, throwing it in the hamper. You covered your bare chest with your arms as she pulled down your panties.

After throwing them in the hamper, she stopped the flow of the water and looked into a cabinet under the sink. She pulled out a few bath toys and placed them in the bath, allowing them to float around freely.

While she was occupied with the bathtub, you looked at the bathroom door. It was left open and you thought about making a break for it. But you were naked. But at least you’d be out?

Or so you thought.

Because you ran. Looking for every exit you could find. There weren’t many, seeing as though it was a small, but modern, house. The only problem was all the windows were locked and the doors had some type of fingerprint keypad to unlock them.

And breaking the windows with items you found in the house definitely didn’t work.

You managed to grab a chair and, with all the strength you could muster, hit the window. But not even a scratch was left. You were screaming and crying for help when Natasha grabbed you.

“Stop acting like a brat!” She yelled, dragging you from the kitchen, where you ended up, and back into the bathroom. “Let me go you bitch!” You yelled, still trying to get out of her grasp. “So that’s how you treat your Mommy?! By swearing at her. Fine then, bitch, how about I show you what happens to bratty little babies then?” She grabbed a handful of your hair and forced your head above the tub. Your eyes widened as you realized what was about to happen. “No no no no! I’m sorry! Please!”

“Oh now you’re sorry. Well baby consider this lesson one: Don’t piss Mommy off.” She said, giving you no time to react before shoving your head into the warm, soapy water. The soap caused a burning sensation in your eyes and a gross taste on your tongue. She held your head under for what felt like forever as you flailed against her grip.

You felt like you were about to pass out when she finally pulled your head out. “Are you ready to behave, little girl?” She asked and you nodded to the best of your abilities. “I’m not convinced.” She said, dunking you back under. She held you for longer this time before lifting you back up. “Yes- please- I’ll be good!” You said through choked sobs and coughs and Natasha clicked her tongue. “I dunno. Doesn’t seem genuine.” She mocked, once again shoving you under water.

You were underwater for even longer, knowing that if she kept this up you’d surely be dead. “So? Ready to be Mommy’s good little girl?” She asked, lifting you out of the water. “Yes! I’ll be- I’ll be good for you!”

“Say it. Say you’ll be Mommy’s good girl.” She demanded. “I’ll be Mommy’s good girl! Just- please!” Natasha smiled, seeming content as she let go of your hair. A wave of relief washed over you.

“Now, time to finish your bath.” Before you could process what she said, she had picked you up, bridal style, and placed you into the tub. You were too weak to fight back and you both knew it.

It was quiet as she bathed you, the only sounds being your heavy breathing, the water sloshing, and Natasha’s humming. She sat at the edge of the tub, taking a loofah and scrubbing your back and front. “We’ve got a long day, today. After you eat, I’m gonna teach you the rules and show you around, okay?” She said, taking a cup of warm water to rinse off the soap. You nodded. “Alright, stand up.” She said and you did, but your legs were shaky and you instinctively grabbed the nearest solid for support. Which just so happened to be Natasha. “Aww does my baby need help?” Natasha grabbed a towel and wrapped it around you before picking you up, once again placing you on her hip.

She walked to a bedroom, different from the one you were in a first. She placed you on what looked like… A changing table? Natasha grabbed something from a cabinet and your eyes widened when you realized what it was: a pull-up. You tried to scoot yourself away but Natasha grabbed your leg and pulled you closer to her. “You said you would be a good girl, remember? Were you lying? Because Mommy would have to punish you if you were.” You shook your head and stopped squirming.

You allowed Natasha to put the pull-up on, despite the fact that it was utterly embarrassing. While she was doing this, however, you took the time to survey your surroundings. You noticed how it was vibrant, just like the room before. But there were less toys. There was also a lack of a bed. And instead, an adult sized crib.

You realized Natasha was done with the pull-up when she started to walk away, pulling out a clothing item from one of the dressers. You noticed it to be a onesie. You inwardly cringed, though at this point, what more did you expect?

Once she had you dressed, with little to no protest from you, seeing as though it wouldn’t do any good, she carried you back into the kitchen. The chair you had thrown still on the ground. She placed you in what you could only assume was an adult sized highchair.

Snapping the table piece in place, Natasha turned her attention towards the cabinet. Now that you weren’t trying to escape, you were able to get a good look at the kitchen. There were locks on certain drawers and cabinets, and the counters looked new. Other than that, nothing really stood out about the room. “Alright, Lovebug, time to eat.” She said, holding a spoonful of mush in front of you. “What the hell is that?” You asked, earning you a slap on the cheek. “Babies aren’t allowed to say bad words and they aren’t allowed to eat other foods.” She said, tapping the spoon on your bottom lip. “Now open.” She demanded. You shook your head. Natasha sighed. “I thought you were going to be good..”

“I don’t-” Natasha had taken the opportunity to shove the spoon into your mouth. When she pulled the spoon out, she clamped her hand over your mouth and nose. “Swallow or I won’t let go.” You took her threat seriously and swallowed the gross substance. “Good girl.” She said, removing her hand. The cycle continued until the bowl was empty. She picked up the bowl and replaced it with a sippy cup full of what looked like juice. “Drink.” She demanded, taking a seat across from you.

“Now, time to learn the rules, Little One.”