#if i was doing something wrong. well. you know how i feel right? call me out on it directly and ill try to understand why and stop.
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rafesangelita ¡ 2 days ago
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…SHERIFF!RAFE X FARMER’S!DAUGHTER!READER AU
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⋆𐙚₊˚🍺⊹♡
SHERIFF!RAFE X FARMER’S!DAUGHTER!READER who spend a lottt of time in the back seat of his cop car. they have an age gap that would raise all kinds of alarm if the people of the small town they resided in ever found out. sheriff!rafe is beefy, his muscles bulging through every shirt he wears. farmer’s!daughter!reader is too busy raising hell all around town in hopes that someone calls the police station so rafe can handcuff her and get her act cleaned up. “you can’t just go actin’ a fool whenever you feel like screwin’ i mean it!” he’s pulling her underwear up her thighs as she lays face down against his leather seats, completely fucked out. “whatever you say, dad.” rafe is groaning at her words as he uncuffs her. “yeah? i oughta’ take you home right now then and let him know about all the trouble you been gettin’ into.”
SHERIFF!RAFE X FARMER’S!DAUGHTER!READER who go on their dates in the next town over so they don’t run the risk of being caught by any locals. farmer’s!daughter!reader who teases rafe all the time, calling him an ‘old man’ and saying he’s a perv for entertaining her antics. “there’s a motel not too far from here.. just ‘sayin.” there’s a hint of a smile playing on her lips, the older man in front of her looking unamused. “you’re suggesting that i take you to a motel and you’re callin’ me a perv? get outta here.” despite his faux disinterest, they end up checking into the said motel for the night, his stomach slapping against her clit as he fucks her into oblivion on the dingy mattress of the cheap room. sheriff!rafe who actually knows farmer’s!daughter!reader’s father very well, both of them going all the way back to their high school days.
SHERIFF!RAFE X FARMER’S!DAUGHTER!READER who can’t stand each other sometimes. rafe is scolding her, telling her that she shouldn’t be wearing those ‘godforsaken’ shorts of hers since it draws a lot of the wrong attention. “you’re just mad because jj maybank is wondering what color panties i have on..” she’s leaning into the window of his cop car, his jaw clenching as he eyed the scruffy looking blonde who stood not too far away, shot gunning hot beers with his friends. “mad at the ‘maybank kid? please, darlin’ he’s a joke.” she’s laughing at his words, getting close to his ear before whispering; “i’m glad you think so, because i’m about to go over there and tell him i’m not wearing any..” that sets rafe off and it isn’t long before he’s slamming jj down against the hood of his car and arresting him for underaged drinking..
SHERIFF!RAFE X FARMER’S!DAUGHTER!READER who are such polar opposites, even they don’t understand how they work together. sheriff!rafe has a rough exterior, seemingly cold, closed off and never smiles, whereas farmer’s!daughter!reader is dancing on tables in bars she shouldn’t even be at, and being a little minx to see how many free drinks she can get out of the regulars. so much so, that rafe started patrolling around town at night so he could stop her from doing something stupid. and of course, without fail, he’s getting a radio call saying there’s been a report of a quote, unquote ‘young woman resisting arrest and assaulting an officer.’ and rafe is arriving onto the scene almost immediately, cursing under his breath when he see’s her being held down by at least four of his men in uniform.
SHERIFF!RAFE X FARMER’S!DAUGHTER!READER who eventually have to get serious with one another, both of them knowing that what they have is anything but casual. sheriff!rafe who doesn’t know how to go about it, so he decides it’s best to just be blunt. “so uhm— what do ‘ya say to moving out of your pop’s and living with me instead?” farmer’s!daughter!reader is staring at him from across the table at their favorite diner. “what?” she’s frozen, holding her knife over her plate of fluffy pancakes. “are you serious?” rafe is nodding as he takes a cigarette out of his pocket, placing it between his lips. “yeah, but this rowdy act of yours needs to stop. m’not gonna have you actin’ reckless if i’m the one taking care of you.” he doesn’t have to tell her twice before she’s nodding, throwing her arms around the grumpy sheriff before pressing kisses to his cheek.
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megalony ¡ 2 days ago
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He Can't Have You
This is a new Evan Buckley imagine requested by the lovely @darkfemme1 I hope you will all like it.
There is a follow up already complete for this, please let me know what you all think.
Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17
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Evan Buckley Masterlist
Summary: (Y/n) and Evan's baby is due any day now, therefore (Y/n) hangs around the station a lot so she isn't alone. But things take a bad turn when her ex finds her. And kidnaps her.
Enjoy.
(Merry Christmas!)
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"Hey stranger."
A smile flooded (Y/n)'s face when she looked to the right and saw Bobby aiming her way.
"Hi Bobby,"
Part of her felt bad for turning up unannounced, at least, she hadn't been invited to the station. This was a busy, hectic place and (Y/n) always felt like she needed an invite to turn up here. Evan changed her mind. He practically begged her to come down to the station whenever she wanted, he said having a visit from her boosted him up and made his day even better. Especially when he was doing long shifts and he started to miss and yearn for her.
Bobby always told the team that family could always stop by and he was often telling (Y/n) she wouldn't be a burden or be in the way if she had to come by and see Evan for any reason.
"Buck said you'd be stopping by, how are you?" He saw the surprise light up her eyes and she stepped closer while she glanced around. The station seemed rather mellow today.
"Tired… and I was sort of conscripted to come over." (Y/n) rolled her lips together into a thin smile and glanced her eyes down.
Her hands moved to cradle her bump that was getting in the way of almost everything lately.
With her due date being next week, Evan was starting to get on edge. He didn't want her going into labour without him or while he was out on a call, and he dreaded the thought of (Y/n) being alone when it happened or something going wrong. The the last two weeks, Evan had been telling (Y/n) to stop by the station whenever she wanted, whether it was to have lunch with the team or to stay with them if she didn't feel great.
She had practically become part of the furniture and all the team loved it when she stopped by.
Bobby had agreed that with (Y/n) being so close to her due date and Evan still working, (Y/n) could stop at the station while he was on shift so she wasn't home alone.
"Well we'll all be glad you're here. Come get a drink and we'll find Buck." Bobby beckoned (Y/n) over to him and she gladly followed him towards the stairs. Her hand curled around his arm and she let him lead her up the stairs towards the kitchen.
(Y/n) loved the smile she saw on her husband's face when she and Bobby reached the top of the stairs and found Evan stood in the kitchen with Chimney.
He was leaning back against the counter, hips pushed out, one hand behind him gripping the counter while his other hand brought a mug of coffee to his blushing red lips that were quirked up into a bright smile. He chuckled into his mug and barely managed a mouthful before his eyes set on his captain and noticed who was stood with him.
"Hey, there are my girls." Evan set down his cup and pushed off the counter with a bounce in his step and a quirk of his brow when he noticed the blush that crept up (Y/n)'s neck and onto her cheeks at his remark. It was about time she turned up to see them, Evan had been missing her already.
When he reached her, Evan wrapped his arms around (Y/n)'s waist and instantly reeled her into his chest. His palms spread out over the small of her back, allowing his fingers to skim up and down her dress and he couldn't dampen his smile, even when he leaned down to kiss her. Just seeing (Y/n) brightened Evan's mood and made him feel elated.
He felt (Y/n)'s hands smooth up his arms and her fingers dug sweetly into his biceps. Evan rolled his lips together and nudged his nose against (Y/n)'s as he kept his forehead pressed against hers until (Y/n) leaned forward to bury her face in his shoulder.
"You okay?"
(Y/n) felt him whisper the words against the side of her head and she could feel his lips tickling her skin and his nose brushing against her hair.
"Yeah, we're doing fine." Her lips curved when she felt one of Evan's arms retract from her waist so his hand could cup the side of her stomach. The feeling of his thumb tracing across her bump over her dress made adrenaline pool in her stomach. And (Y/n) knew if they were at home and not here in front of friends, Evan would have lifted her dress to hold her bump properly.
"Good, that's what I wanna hear. Do you want a drink?" Turning to the side, Evan kept one arm around (Y/n)'s waist and moved towards the kitchen where Bobby was now pouring himself a drink. He felt (Y/n)'s arms circle around his middle rather tightly like she was trying to squeeze all the air out of him but it was strangely comforting.
(Y/n) nodded her head but when they reached the kitchen, her hands tightened in Evan's middle until her nails almost pierced through his shirt into his skin. She pushed her forehead into his chest and leaned her weight onto him when the baby started to move around.
"Babe?" Evan stopped walking and moved his hands to hold (Y/n)'s arms but she reached up and held his wrists with a deep breath and a smile.
"Just tense… God, your kid's heavy."
"Uh, the midwife said she's perfect, actually." Evan murmured the words against the top of her head with a smirk playing on his lips when (Y/n) rolled her eyes. They both knew he was taking that slightly out of context, the midwife had told them that their baby was the normal weight and size and that she was doing perfectly well. Of course, that was music to Evan's ears.
She changed direction and headed over to the table where Eddie and Hen were playing a round of cards. She felt better when she sat down and as expected, Evan followed her. His hand cupped her thigh as he crouched down beside her, staring up at her with that sugary sweet smile that always managed to melt (Y/n) in every possible way.
He shifted his other hand up to her stomach and a broad grin spread across his lips when he felt movement.
"She's happy today."
A burning sensation flooded through (Y/n)'s stomach and fluttered up her chest when Evan gently took her chin between his fingers and thumb and tilted her head down so she was level with him. She could see the love pooling in his eyes and the way his lips were dithering between a placid smile and a concerned look when he noticed the discomfort etched onto her face.
"I'm okay," She answered his silent question and reached down to hold his wrist as if making sure he wasn't about to move his hand away from her bump.
His lips formed back into the bright smile he wore earlier and he perched his chin down on (Y/n)'s thigh, squeezed her hip and carded his thumb across her stomach. Evan was always thrilled any time the baby moved and he was around to feel it. It was like he was witnessing a miracle and it always made (Y/n) smile to see that look in his eyes and have his hands roaming across her stomach with such wonder.
"Should we expect the new arrival soon?" A grin pulled on Eddie's lips as he looked over his hand of cards to glance across at the couple.
"Not today," (Y/n) shook her head and she smiled, murmuring her thanks when Bobby placed a drink down on the table next to her.
She was ready to have this baby, but it didn't feel like their girl would be making an appearance anytime soon. At least not today. She seemed settled and comfy, especially with Evan now muttering incoherent whispers to her that (Y/n) couldn't make out. She was always finding Evan whispering things to the baby now, ever since he read somewhere that babies could recognise voices while they were in the womb.
"Shame, I think someone's getting impatient." Hen smiled softly and pointed over towards Evan.
The team could all see that he was bouncing off the walls recently. Every phone call he got from (Y/n) made him jump and he seemed to hold his breath, waiting for her to tell him she was in labour, but it hadn't happened yet. They all knew Evan was anxious to have his baby girl in his arms by now.
"I-"
The smile on Evan's face dwindled and the words faded on his tongue when the alarm went off.
His smile turned into a grimace and he locked his jaw, shaking his head to himself. That noise was like a bad omen. When they were waiting around, bored, wishing for a call, all they got was nothing. And then they got days where they couldn't even get a drink before they were back out again.
It was like a twisted game and it was irritating. Evan didn't want to go yet, not when (Y/n) had only just got here, but it was out of his hands now. Knowing (Y/n) was going to be here when they got back made Evan feel a little better.
"You're staying here and waiting for us to get back, aren't you?" Evan pushed up to his feet but the look on his face and his hands on his hips told (Y/n) he wasn't really asking, he was telling.
He wanted her to stick around here so if she went into labour or she didn't feel well, someone would always be around. She was in the safest place by being here. And it meant Evan would see her for a bit longer if she stuck around until they came back from this call.
(Y/n) looked across at Bobby for confirmation that she was alright to hang around the station if the team went out. The smile on his face and the warm look in his eyes told (Y/n) she was more than welcome.
"You can stay here as long as you like, make yourself comfortable."
When the team all got up and made their way down the stairs to get ready, Evan stooped over and gently cupped (Y/n)'s chin in his hand so he could tilt her head up towards him. His grin was soft and his eyes were dilated and flooded with warmth.
"I'll be back soon."
He pressed a searing kiss to her lips while his thumb stroked her chin and across the side of her cheek. He felt (Y/n)'s fingers feather across his neck and she hummed against his lips, watching him finally tear away from her so he could go out on the call. But his mind would stick around here, he would constantly be thinking about his girls while he was out on this call; desperate to come back to them.
***
(Y/n) tilted her head back and slouched down a little on the sofa to try and ease the tension in her back. It felt like someone was jabbing a knife into each column of her spine; there was a horrid ache going down the centre of her back. It was probably due to how she had been sitting and sleeping recently, but there were very little positions in which (Y/n) could get comfy.
She moved her hands to run up and down her bump while she stared blankly at the tv. An old tv show was playing on repeat on one of the channels so (Y/n) had clicked on it because she wasn't watching, but she knew the rest of the 118 who were loitering about in the annex liked the background noise the same as (Y/n) did. And watching the news was always draining when every news reel was of some kind of accident or trauma these days.
The desire to take a nap was getting more and more infectious, but (Y/n) didn't want to sleep here. Not in front of or around people, especially when these were the people Evan worked with on a daily basis.
She hoped he would be back soon. She cast her eyes around the annex as if praying he would suddenly appear out of nowhere and sit next to her.
(Y/n) found herself getting lost in thought while she traced designs and scribblings against her bump with the pad of her finger. But she looked up to the left when a shadow cast over her and she noticed one of the team standing beside the sofa.
It was Alex. (Y/n) didn't know him very well, but she knew him enough and she knew Evan had gone out for a drink once or twice with him in the last few months. He had a kind grin on his face and he pressed his hand on the back of the sofa to prop himself up.
"Hey Buckley, is your car the blue ford?"
"Yeah, why?" (Y/n) sat up straighter as her smile faded into a confused frown. She had driven down to the station earlier, despite how uncomfortable it was getting to drive now she was nine months pregnant. But it was preferable than walking all the way here, and (Y/n) certainly wasn't going to get the bus.
"The alarm's going off, want me to go lock it for you?"
"Oh, no I'll do it, thanks."
The warm smile stayed on Alex's face and he nodded his head at her before he turned and headed over to the pool table.
That was strange.
(Y/n)'s car wasn't tempermental, it wasn't the kind of car that would start beeping an alarm if someone walked past. Someone must have clipped her car when they left the car park or something had landed on it for the alarm to be going off. She highly doubted anyone would try and steal her car when it was parked at the back of the station in the car park reserved for the station team.
Moving her hands to the sofa, (Y/n) slowly pushed herself up to her feet and scoured her eyes around the station for her bag. Once she grabbed it, she made her way over to the stairs.
It was hard to try and move quickly when her body felt sluggish and weighed down, but she did her best to go fast once she was down the stairs. She turned to the left and headed past the locker room, down the corridor and out the side door into the car park.
Her eyes set on her car and she fished her keys out her pocket. Sure enough, it was (Y/n)'s car that was blaring out a deafening alarm (Y/n) was surprised she didn't hear up in the annex. Her car headlights were flashing in tandem with the horn and the noise made her grit her teeth.
God, she hoped no one had clipped her car; the last thing she needed was a dint or a scratch on her car or God forbid a mirror or her bumper hanging off. She would have to sweet talk Evan into fixing her car when he got back if anything was wrong.
When the alarm was turned off, (Y/n) stepped closer to inspect her car. Hopefully someone had just bumped into it on their way out and there was no lasting damage.
There didn't look like there was any marks, scratches or dents in her car and that made (Y/n) sigh.
But her relief was short-lived.
A hand clamped down around her mouth and an arm suddenly deadlocked around her waist. She could feel short nails scratching into her abdomen like they were trying to tear at her dress and her back crashed into a slender chest.
The keys in her hand clashed to the floor and her bag slid from her shoulder in panic as she waved her arms in desperation. Reaching her hands up, she tried to claw at the hand across her mouth and she let out whatever muffled scream she could manage. Her sense of balance became distorted when she was dragged backwards.
With another scream, (Y/n) closed her eyes in preparation and tried to thrust her head back as quickly as she could manage to headbutt whoever was trying to grab at her.
A violent yell errupted from the person behind her and the hand left her mouth in favour of cradling their nose which (Y/n) hoped she had broken.
She could see stars dancing in front of her eyes and her head swayed from left to right, causing her feet to stumble beneath her. She wasn't sure she would be able to keep herself upright, but the arm bound around her middle seemed to deadlock like a metal bar and before (Y/n) could try and stumble forwards, a cloth was forcefully rammed against her mouth.
She could taste the starched fabric and her teeth ached when the person's fingers pressed against her mouth so harshly that her upper lip cut against her tooth.
It was hard to remember what Evan had told her to do in panicked situations like this. (Y/n) tried to hold her breath, she knew she shouldn't- couldn't, breathe in whatever the cloth was soaked in, but she couldn't help it.
Her chest was aching, her lungs were desperate to circulate oxygen around her body and the baby was kicking and wriggling with bursts of adrenaline. Holding her breath wasn't an option (Y/n) had right now and she had no choice but to gasp and cough, breathing through the cloth that made her feel asthmatic with how little air she actually managed to breathe.
Both her hands reached up for the person's wrist and she dug her nails in until she could feel them pushing through a layer of skin, but it didn't help. (Y/n) was still dragged backwards, away from her car, away from the station door and she knew she was being pulled towards one of the cars parked up here.
"Don't play up!"
That sneering voice and the crude tone that was whispered in her ear made (Y/n) tense up.
Her shoulders pulled up towards her neck, her body began to shake and her legs felt like they were made out of clay that was starting to harden.
Tears burned in her eyes and she screamed as much as she could into the cloth and she writhed her body from left to right. Praying that the fire truck would roll into the station and someone would hear the commotion. Or that Evan would come out here and find her. She wanted Evan. She needed him.
He promised he would keep her safe and there was no other situation that (Y/n) needed him more than she did right now.
She knew who had hold of her.
Her heels scraped against the concrete and her head thrust back into his shoulder, but it didn't help. Her body was already starting to become sluggish and the sound of a car door opening didn't give (Y/n) enough adrenaline to fight whatever drugs she was forced to inhale.
Her body went limp when she was roughly forced into the passenger seat of a dark car and her head lolled against the driver's seat while her eyes rolled to the back of her head.
It was her ex-husband.
***
A horrible thumping like a repeating clunk of a hammer ignited in the back of (Y/n)'s head and caused a groan to tumble past her lips.
Her forehead felt cold. It was a struggle to open her eyes, so (Y/n) tried to focus on her other senses and see if she could get her body moving. Her temple was pressing against something smooth but frozen cold. Her hands were numb and bent at odd angles on her lap. Her chest felt tight. Her back was flooded with crippling nerves and sharp flickers of pain and there was a dull tightening feeling in her abdomen.
The only part of her body that didn't seem to be in agony was her legs. They weren't cramped her bent at strange angles and they weren't littered with bruises like the rest of her body seemed to feel.
When her eyes finally started to open and her vision cleared up, bolts of lightning struck her heart and sent waves of adrenaline sparking through her stomach.
She was leaning against a window. Scenery was passing by in a flash and (Y/n) realised the light vibration she could sense was the car heading down a seemingly deserted back road.
It took a lot of effort to push her head off the window and her temple was horribly numb; she must have been leaning on the window for a long time to make her forehead go cold like that. Her head lolled back against the headrest and she took a moment to take a few deep breaths, but it only ignited the tension that seemed to radiate in every crevace of her body.
She didn't want to look. Her head turned to the left, but (Y/n) really didn't want to look and prove her memory right. She didn't want to see who was driving the car she didn't recognise but when she looked, she felt an overwhelming urge to cry.
Caleb.
It was her ex-husband. The one she had sucessfully managed to avoid for over a year now.
This was the man (Y/n) had nightmares about, the one who frightened her, threatened her and physically hurt her when they had been together. This was the person she had to get a restraining order against. The man that had broken her wrist, three of her ribs and who made her need six stitches in her forearm when she fended him off and the knife he came at her with.
Compared to Evan, Caleb was like the devil reincarnated. (Y/n) felt like she had won the lottery when she got with Evan and marrying him had been the best part of her life. (Y/n) thought she was finished with this chapter of her life, with the torment, the abuse and fear Caleb inflicted.
He looked so stoic and calm right now.
Driving with one hand on the wheel, his left elbow resting on the door and his chin leaning on his hand. It made him look casual, as if they were old friends going on a road trip instead of ex-partners who shouldn't be within one hundred feet of one another.
"Caleb?" She wasn't sure what she wanted to say or what kind of conversation she was trying to strike up, but (Y/n) needed answers.
She needed to know what he thought he was doing and what his plan seemed to be. What good would kidnapping her do? It wasn't as if he could just take (Y/n) and hold her hostage. She wasn't an ornament or a pet or a piece of property, she was a person and she was never going to go along with this.
And Caleb couldn't kidnap her and think that (Y/n) would go along with him if he tried to make her play the happy wife again. She was re-married. She was pregnant with someone else's child. What was he planning to do by kidnapping her like this?
"About time you woke up." He spared a glance in her direction and the half-smile that quirked on his lips made (Y/n) shrink down in her seat.
When he looked back to the road, (Y/n) carefully moved her hands, trying to be slow so he wouldn't notice or see what she was doing. She cupped her stomach and tried to run her right hand along the side of her bump. Everything hurt, but (Y/n) didn't know how long she had been unconscious.
She had no idea if Caleb had hurt her by shoving her into the car or if he had intentionally or unintentionally hurt the baby when he took her. (Y/n) needed the baby to move, to kick or wriggle or just made some light movement so she knew her daughter was okay.
She tried to look around, but she had no idea what road they were on, what direction they were going in or where Caleb was trying to take her. Everything was uncertain.
She didn't have her phone. Her phone was in her bag, which she had dropped in the station car park. Maybe Caleb grabbed it and threw it somewhere in the car. Hopefully he left it. If it was still there on the floor, along with (Y/n)'s car keys, then Evan would undoubtedly find it. He would realise something bad had happened and he might be able to get to her or find her somehow.
"W-why're you doing this?"
Asking the question was almost as terrifying as hearing the answer. (Y/n) was used to not questioning him, she always tried to walk away, never argue, let him rant and rave if he wanted. And when he hurt her she tried to find a safe place, because fighting back didn't work.
But she had to ask now because she couldn't just sit and wait to find out what he was going to do and his reasons. If Caleb took her, he had to be prepared for some backlash, for (Y/n) to fight and question him and tell him how stupid and wrong he was being.
The way he glanced over at her made him look like a different person. His pupils were so small they looked like flecks of paint compared to the sage green of his eyes that looked more vile than ever. And the way Caleb snapped his head to the right to look at her made his hair fan across his temple and bounce in waves.
"You divorced me. You shacked up with that new guy, and now you're having his kid. You never wanted kids when we were together."
A twinge tore through (Y/n)'s stomach and she pressed her hands deeper into her bump while she dropped her head.
She never wanted kids with Caleb, there was a difference.
(Y/n) never said she didn't want children, not to anyone. They had always been part of her future, always something she wanted at some point in her life. And when she first got with Caleb, she thought they might have a family together. (Y/n) had a few doubts when she married him, but she went ahead with the wedding and told herself things would be okay.
When he lashed out at her, (Y/n) knew that was it. She knew she couldn't stay with him, that Caleb wasn't the right person to be with, and (Y/n) knew she could never have a child with him. That would tie her to him forever, it would bind them and she didn't want that. Someone as cruel and controlling as Caleb shouldn't have children.
But the moment (Y/n) got into a relationship with Evan, she knew it was okay. They both wanted kids and Evan was the ideal person to have a family with, he was sweet and funny and considerate and as loving as they got. And he adored kids. (Y/n) couldn't think of anyone else she would want to have a family with.
"I'm your husband-"
"No you're not. He is."
Somehow, it didn't feel safe to say Evan's name. She didn't want to hear her husband's name passing Caleb's lips, the thought was horrifying. Caleb was like an infection and (Y/n) needed to keep her husband as far away from him as possible, even the notion of him.
The way Caleb slammed his fist down on the steering wheel made the car jutter to the right and (Y/n) winced. She coiled in on herself, shrinking down in her seat as tears began to trace down the bridge of her nose. But the shock made the baby wriggle, and a small tendril of relief crept into (Y/n)'s aching system. At least the baby was moving; she was okay.
"Why would you fucking marry him? Why?" His tone made it seem like (Y/n) had gone and done something ludacris. As if she had married Evan after knowing him for only one day.
What right did Caleb have to judge or start asking those kind of questions? They were divorced, Caleb had eventually signed the agreement and finally severed himself from (Y/n). She was free to do whatever she liked with her life, to be with whoever she chose and that meant she could marry someone if she wanted. It had nothing to do with him.
"Why would I say no?" She countered with a shot of boldness in her veins and she glared over at him through narrowed eyes.
(Y/n) had been the happiest she had ever been in her life when Evan asked her to marry him. He was the best thing that had happened to her and there wasn't a single reason for (Y/n) to say no when he asked her. He was everything (Y/n) wanted; everything Caleb wasn't.
And (Y/n) had been four months pregnant when they got married. She had a tiny bump for the ceremony and Evan could barely keep his hands off her or her stomach the whole day.
"So that's it? You dump me, find the first guy you can and have his kid. How does that make any sense?"
"I love him." It didn't have to make sense to anyone else but her and Evan. They met, they fell in love and now they were having a baby together. That was the way it worked for most people, (Y/n) was no different simply because it didn't happen with the first person she married.
(Y/n) didn't like the way Caleb grunted and started to tap his fingers against the steering wheel in agitation. It made her feel like she was waiting for something, like she was expecting Caleb to fly off the handle at any moment. She wanted to reach out and hold onto the door handle in case he suddenly veered off the road and tried to crash or in case he sped up to see how far he could go before he either got caught or (Y/n) tried to intervene.
Her hands continued to trace her stomach that was more uncomfortable than ever while and she took to glancing out the window again. Maybe if she could spot a sign she could work out where they were or remember some kind of landmark or one of the junctions they might come up to. Just in case she managed to get away from Caleb at any point.
She had to. (Y/n) had to do whatever she could to get away from him. She had to keep her daughter safe. She wouldn't let him hurt her.
"Maybe that's not enough. I loved you, but you left me, so why should he get to have you?"
Those words were enough to spark a fire in (Y/n)'s stomach and her head snapped back to glare up at Caleb with wide eyes and parted lips. What was that supposed to mean? What was he going to do? How could his brain work in that twisted capacity and think that Evan couldn't love or be with (Y/n) just because she left Caleb a few years ago?
"Where are we going?" Her tone was more defined than earlier but she still sounded timid and afraid.
"You know we could have made things work, if you didn't get yourself pregnant-"
"Caleb I want his baby, I'm sorry you can't accept that. Where are you trying to take me?" She pushed up in her seat, despite the ache it caused in her back, and twisted to face him.
(Y/n)'s mind started to scream, coming up with millions of scenarios on how this would play out and where exactly he was trying to take her. She had no idea what he wanted. For all (Y/n) knew, Caleb could be doing this to wind up and frighten Evan, he could have kept her phone and was intending to call Evan and tell him who (Y/n) was with and that she was in danger.
He could intend to take (Y/n) somewhere and hold her hostage in some sick, twisted way of trying to get back into a relationship with her.
Or he could be planning to hurt her.
"Who said I'm taking you anywhere? You know, I watched you for a while, trying to find the best time to talk to you. But when I saw that," The way he pointed at her bump with a look of disgust made (Y/n)'s skin crawl. "I changed my mind. Since you abandoned me, I think it's time you did the same to him, so he knows what it feels like."
Panic was the only thing (Y/n) could feel and comprehend.
He had been watching her. Caleb had found her before today, he had been following her around and the notion made bile rise in the back of her throat. If she weren't pregnant (Y/n) got the impression he would of tried to make her stay with him, to delude her into another relationship with him. It seemed both a relief and a condemnation that she was pregnant.
At least Caleb wouldn't try and force her to be with him again, but being pregnant only cemented the fact that she was moving on from him, and he clearly wasn't going to let her do that. He might not have tried to hurt her- at least not badly- if she weren't pregnant. Now he wanted to hurt her, he wanted her to feel the betrayal he had no reasoning to feel and he wanted to hurt Evan for being with (Y/n).
If he had been watching them then Caleb would of seen that (Y/n) was everything to Evan. Her being hurt in any way would crush him and (Y/n) didn't dare think what Evan would do or how he would feel if something happened to their baby girl.
Short, panicked breaths tumbled past (Y/n)'s lips as she turned her head to look out the window. She didn't want to give Caleb the satisfaction of seeing her go into a panic attack.
It felt like stones were piling up in her lungs that weren't inflating anymore, they were just useless, heavy ornaments clogging up until (Y/n) was practically gasping for air. She wanted to go home. She wanted to go back to the station and be safe and happy surrounded by friends and people who wouldn't hurt her. People the opposite of Caleb.
She wanted to be back with Evan. Tears trickled down her face at the thought of her husband and she began to circle her wedding ring around her finger, seeing if focusing on the symbolic ring would calm her down in the slightest. It didn't work. All it did was make her think of Evan and how panicked this situation was going to make him once he found out. And (Y/n) wanted him, she wanted him to help her, to save her, protect her. To make everything okay.
Her vision blurred with the amount of tears she was shedding, but (Y/n) suddenly pressed her hand into her abdomen and held her breath when it felt like the tightening sensation in her stomach suddenly changed. It felt like a coil within her had snapped.
The sensation made her shoulders hunch and had her creasing forward, trying her best not to move and draw Caleb's attention to her.
When her eyes darted down, she could feel more tears running down her face and she held her breath to stop herself from screaming.
Her water broke.
The whole reason she had been at the station in the first place; so she wouldn't be on her own when she was so close to her due date. If she had stayed inside, if she let Alex turn the alarm off on her car, this wouldn't of happened. If she just stayed inside where she was safe.
Her water probably wouldn't have broken today if Caleb hadn't of snatched her and fought with her like he did. If he didn't frighten her and manhandle her into the car and panic her like this then (Y/n) wouldn't be in this situation.
Evan was supposed to be with her when her waters broke. He was supposed to be with her from the beginning and coach her through this experience. (Y/n) didn't want to be doing this alone. She didn't want to go through this without Evan. She needed him.
Clenching her legs together, (Y/n) moved the hem of her dress a bit further down her knees before she pressed her hand against her mouth to stop herself from crying. While her other hand stayed on her stomach like she was warning the baby not to squirm or give her any pains just yet.
She didn't want Caleb to notice. If he knew she was in labour he might do something rash. He might try and change his mind again and make (Y/n) stay with him. He could use this against Evan, he could torment Evan with this and hurt (Y/n). She wouldn't be able to get away from him once labour was in full swing and it would give Caleb much more opportunity to try and hurt her and the baby.
A bolt of panic surged through (Y/n)'s heart when Caleb suddenly took a sharp left turn. She hadn't noticed any signs. She had been too preoccupied in her thoughts to look for signs or landmarks.
She could feel herself beginning to shake when he drove down a small, rather bumpy road. But the way he leaned forward into the wheel and glanced around made (Y/n)'s fear multiply.
He didn't know where they were.
He hadn't driven with a set goal in mind, he had just been driving to get (Y/n) as far away from home, from Evan, as possible. He was trying to find somewhere deserted and from the looks of it, he had found just the right spot. Somewhere in the middle of nowhere.
(Y/n) moved her hand to press against the door to steady herself when Caleb drove down a narrow road filled with pot holes and broken concrete and gravel. He was slowing down. She debated whether it was worth trying to open the door, but throwing herself out of a moving car, even one going as slow as this, was going to have repercussions.
She could injure herself and not be fit enough to run away. Caleb could reverse and hit her. He could get out and throw her in the trunk or attack her out here in the open. Waiting for his next move was going to be her best bet.
When he pulled up and turned off the engine, (Y/n) slowly moved her right hand to reach for the door handle while she leaned forward and kept her eyes on Caleb. He grabbed the keys and tucked them into his pocket, presumably so (Y/n) couldn't take them in a desperate attempt to flee.
She wondered what he was looking for when he rummaged around in his door pocket, but when he turned to face her, brandishing a kitchen knife, her blood ran cold.
He looked crazed, like a man possessed and he pointed the knife so close to her that the end was practically touching her chest.
"Get out, no sudden moves."
(Y/n) found herself nodding even though she didn't need to. She wasn't making a break for it in her state and there wasn't anywhere she could go. Part of her wished Caleb would have gotten out the car first. She could have turned on the indoor locks and stayed safe in the car with him on the outside if he got out first.
She opened the door and slowly climbed out, noticing Caleb getting out at the same time to make sure she didn't run off. And she was relieved he hadn't noticed her waters had broken. She couldn't let him find that out.
She leaned her weight against the bonnet of the car, her wide eyes following Caleb as he moved to stand in front of her.
He was still sneering down at her stomach like he thought the baby was some kind of burden, like they had ruined everything. The distaste in his eyes made (Y/n) wrap an arm protectively around her bump and she leaned back but it didn't do her any good.
Caleb's free hand suddenly knitted into her hair and he yanked her closer causing a yelp to fly past her lips.
She struggled, pulling back until the knife was pressed beneath her chin causing her to tip her head back to relieve the pressure and prevent the knife from plunging into her throat.
"Don't like that, huh?" He sneered, leaning close enough that (Y/n) could feel his breath fanning against her cheek. "Let's make that new hubby of yours feel the way I did when you left me. He can lose both of you."
A sob bubbled past (Y/n)'s lips and she tried again to lean away from him, but he simply knitted his hands tighter into her hair and pulled. The action caused the jagged edge of the knife to scrape against her throat. A flesh wound, barely enough to draw blood, but enough to bring back memories and make (Y/n) flinch and scream.
He'd come at her with a knife once before. When (Y/n) told him she was leaving and packed her bags. She had to pin her arms in front of her face in defence and he slashed the knife down her forearm enough to need stitches.
She didn't want anymore scars from him.
"No! You d-don't get to do this." (Y/n) raised her arms in defence and tried to bend his wrist back to get the knife away from her. She couldn't get any injuries; she couldn't risk her baby getting hurt.
When the knife aimed dangerously close to her stomach and Caleb yanked her hair to pull her head back, (Y/n) thrust her elbow up towards his face. She wanted to hit his nose, she had managed to catch his nose earlier and it would make his eyes water and momentarily phase him. But she clocked his chin instead. It was still a good movement, his head snapped back and he audibly choked and spluttered.
It gave (Y/n) the momentum she needed to bash her arm into his elbow and pull away from him. He yanked on her hair, but not enough to pull her back and she broke away from him, using the time to pelt away across the broken gravelly road as fast as she could.
The twinges in her abdomen were distant and dull compared to the pounding of her heart and the panic fuelling her whole body. She knew this wasn't going to do her or the baby any good, but she had to move as fast as possible and get away from him. She had to get somewhere safe.
"You can't outrun me, (Y/n)! Not in that state." His words were sinister and followed her like a shadow.
Her breaths started to become deep and panting as she willed her numb legs to go faster.
"He can't have you!"
She had to get away. That was the only thought playing on (Y/n)'s mind, that she had to keep her daughter safe by any means necessary. But when a horrible pain that she guessed was a contraction tore through her abdomen, (Y/n)'s steps faltered. She stopped herself from collapsing to her knees by creasing forward and pressing one hand to her stomach as she tried to keep moving.
The feeling of a blade slashing against her dress made (Y/n) scream and bow her head. She wasn't sure whether the knife managed to scratch through her dress and into her upper back, but she knew it had cut through the thin material of her dress right between her shoulder blades.
She wasn't sure what threat Caleb tried to shout at her, but she felt the knife stab into the back of her left forearm just above her elbow. The adrenaline coursing through (Y/n)'s veins made it impossible to tell whether the wound was deep or superficial, but (Y/n) knew she could feel blood trickling down her arm that she coiled into her chest as she cried out.
The wound was enough to slow down her already faltering pace and when Caleb's hand knitted in her hair, he used it as leverage to pull her back towards him. His chest pressed down into her back and their combined weight tumbled forward as both their legs bent and surged them down to the floor.
A loud, piercing scream left (Y/n)'s lips as she tried to fall on her side rather than her front, but it was hard to twist when Caleb was falling with her.
She crashed onto her left side, pinning her arm between her and the floor which sent spasms jolting through her injured arm, all the way down to her chest.
"No!" She wasn't sure what she was protesting or trying to splutter, but (Y/n) caged her arms over her stomach to protect the baby as Caleb moved.
The fall didn't seem to phase him at all for he pushed up onto his knees with horrible, grunting breaths and a heaving chest that made him look like he was about to transform into the Hulk right before her eyes. She did her best to sit up but the wind had been knocked out of her and left her gasping for breath and moving made her head spin and loll backwards.
She had to force her arms to stop trembling and stay deadlocked around her waist to try and help herself. She wasn't sure if that fall would have done something to hurt the baby. If the baby wasn't okay or something went wrong, (Y/n) wasn't in a very good situation for this. She was in the middle of nowhere with her crazed ex and no way of escaping or finding help. And being in labour made this situation a whole lot worse.
"He's not having you." Each word was panted and grunted as Caleb wiped his sleeve across his jaw that he clicked into place. And he seemed to delight in the way (Y/n) shivered when he pointed the knife at her stomach. "Either of you."
Caleb moved fast. He moved so fast that (Y/n) feared blinking and seeing him vanish before her eyes. He pushed forward and jolted down towards her and it was clear by the manic look in his eyes that were focused on her stomach that he wanted to hurt the baby.
Moving her arms and legs at the same time was a hard task but (Y/n) didn't know what else to do. She couldn't shuffle back, she couldn't find anything to hand to counter his attack and hit him with. All she could do was keep her arms in front of her bump and reel her knees up.
Being stabbed in the legs or arms was much more preferable than the stomach.
The knife sliced horizontally across her right knee and there was enough pain there for (Y/n) to know that it was more than just superficial. The pain blistered like she had knelt on hot coals but it was hard to focus on that pain when the tightening contractions in her stomach were worse.
A slurr of curse words rambled past Caleb's lips as (Y/n) lifted her leg and rammed her foot into his crotch fast and harsh enough to make her toes curl and her foot go numb with shock.
(Y/n) pushed forward and screamed, forcing her arms out in front of her to thrust Caleb away from her. She couldn't sit and let him slice her to pieces and hack away at her. She had to move.
But as Caleb surged forward and (Y/n) smacked her arms out at him again, their gazes interlocked and both of them seemed to gasp in horror. Panic reflected on both their faces, their expressions mirrored and stricken but it was Caleb's jaw that went slack while (Y/n)'s lips wobbled and tears began to trickle down her face again.
Her body started to shake as she shuffled backwards on her bum, scraping her shoes into the floor to get away from Caleb.
The only place (Y/n) could look was down at Caleb's hands that were shakily pinning against his stomach.
She didn't mean to.
It was an accident. It was either her or him, and she couldn't let him hurt her baby.
Tears continued to stream down (Y/n)'s face and she went to press her hand to her mouth but stopped when her eyes caught on the specks of blood coating her palm. She had thrust her hands at Caleb and accidentally thrust the knife into his stomach.
But wasn't that exactly what Caleb had been trying to do to her? If she didn't hurt and subdue him first, it would be the knife in her own stomach and her daughter's life lost. He wouldn't stop until he killed them both and (Y/n) had to do something. She didn't have a choice; Caleb made sure of that.
Gasps and strangled sounds left Caleb's lips as he hunched over until his chest was creased towards his knees like he was praying to any God that would listen to his pathetic pleas.
Spit bubbled past his lips and his face started to turn an ungodly shade of red as the veins in his neck started to pop out and become prominent. He didn't dare move his hands away from his stomach where he was cradling the knife that was imbedded into his skin up to the handle. They both knew if he tried to remove it he would bleed out. He was cradling it so (Y/n) didn't try and take it out.
She wanted to. She wanted to crawl over there and yank that knife out as slowly as possible and watch him bleed out like a spilled pitcher of milk. But (Y/n) couldn't do that. It wasn't in her nature to be cruel, not in the way it was in Caleb's own nature, and she would undoubtedly get reprimanded for that.
When Caleb looked up at her, all (Y/n) could see was pure evil pooling in those dark eyes that were blown wide like he was having a stroke.
(Y/n) wasn't sure where the courage came from, but she started to crawl towards him. He was subdued, he wasn't going to lunge at her when he could barely lean up on his thighs and Caleb wasn't going to remove the knife to weaponize it again when he knew he would bleed out.
It was safe to approach. And it was clear in Caleb's tortured, twisted expression that he didn't know her intentions. He had no idea why she was getting closer to him or what she was going to do.
(Y/n) couldn't stop the silent sobs from wracking her chest and her body shook as she knelt in front of Caleb.
One bloodied hand reached out and clamped down on her upper arm and (Y/n) winced, coiling in on herself as she tried to ignore the touch. It wouldn't be there for long. Her eyes stayed on Caleb, keeping his attention on her face and she leaned closer like she was about to sneer something horrid in his face.
He didn't see her right hand slither out beside them to grab a loose slab of concrete from the gravel road they had been running on.
He didn't see it when (Y/n) thrust the lump of concrete down on his head so hard and fast that the noise sounded like a bullet whipping through the air.
A tremendous amount of blood pooled beneath Caleb's hair and trickled down the side of his head, slithering down his neck like a tap had been turned on full. His body slumped to the left and he hit the gravel with a thud, his head bent back oddly and his arms bent inwards with his hands loosely cradling his stomach.
The concrete dropped from (Y/n)'s hand and clashed against Caleb's thigh and a horrible trembling set in (Y/n)'s bones until she was sobbing and rattling back and forth.
He couldn't follow her now. He couldn't get her if she left now and left him behind in the dirt. But she couldn't drive. (Y/n) didn't know where his keys were, she was sure he had tossed them somewhere and she couldn't drive while she was in labour and undoubtedly lost.
Her trembling hands traced over Caleb's thighs and she grimaced as she dug her hand into his back pocket and fished out his phone.
She had to call for help.
Once the phone was in her hand, (Y/n) took a second to stare down at him. He finally looked peaceful. He finally looked calm and serene, even with blood pouring down the side of his face and turning his white shirt into a blood bath of crimson.
"I hate you." The words sneered past her lips along with a bubbling cry. "I hope you die."
As if fearing he would suddenly rise up and lunge, (Y/n) inched backwards as soon as the words left her lips.
Caleb had no right to do what he did to her, at any point in their past relationship or right now. He didn't have the right to try and hurt her, to protest when she left him and try to harm her into getting back together with him. He didn't have a right to stalk her and watch her and then decide he was going to kidnap her out of spite because (Y/n) had moved on with her life.
(Y/n) had no idea if his wound was fatal or how long he would last out here, unconscious, with a knife in his stomach. And she didn't know whether anyone still used this discreet road or if anyone would find him today. No one might come down here. They might not find him until days later if (Y/n) didn't alert anyone that her tormenter was laid here unconscious.
She hoped he wouldn't wake up. He could stay here and bleed out until help eventually came to find him. He didn't deserve a speedy rescue.
One hand pressed down into the gravel to push herself up and the other cradled her stomach that was feeling heavier by the minute. Every part of her body ached when she limped away from Caleb's unconscious body. She tried to aim in the opposite direction to the car, she had to try and get as far away from Caleb as possible and back track down this road to find help.
She needed somewhere safe to be until she could get someone to help her, to find her. Being here in the middle of nowhere on the road wasn't likely to help (Y/n) much, especially not if Caleb woke up soon.
Blood was still trickling down her left arm. Her right knee was aching and pulsing with each step she took and she had to stop to gasp for breath when a horrid contraction felt like her stomach was set on fire. God, she hoped the baby was okay. She hoped Evan would be able to get to her soon. She prayed everything would turn out okay.
Once she deemed herself far enough away from Caleb, (Y/n) slumped down to her knees on the side of the road. She doubled forward, curving her right arm around her waist to cradle her aching stomach while she tried to look through Caleb's phone.
She didn't bother trying to remember or guess his password, she clicked on the emergency button and dialled the only safe number she could in this situation.
"911, what's your emergency?"
"I- I need Maddie Buckley, please." The air of desperation in (Y/n)'s voice and the sob at the end of her words must have made the dispatcher feel sorry for her because she heard the woman gasp and agree instantly.
(Y/n) needed her sister in law. She had to have someone she knew and trusted on the other end of the line. Someone who could and instantly would contact Evan once (Y/n) explained what was going on.
"Hello, this is Maddie?" There was apprehension in her voice. It wasn't often that people rang the help line and asked to speak to a specific dispatcher, much less to speak to Maddie herself. She couldn't think of a time when someone had asked for her or refused to speak to anyone except her.
"Maddie! P… please, help me."
"(Y/n)? What's wrong, where are you honey?"
Where was she? Looking around didn't give (Y/n) much indication, there were no road signs or street names. No houses with names or numbers on them. No passing cars or the distant sound of a motorway nearby. There was nothing except the crackling 911 line (Y/n) was dialling out to.
"I d- I don't know." Her voice came out in a broken wail and she could feel her heartbeat increasing, pulsing blood throughout her system in panic. She had no idea where she was.
"What's happened?"
Maddie was her only link to the rest of the world. The thought made her sob harder and she bound her arm around her waist, creasing forward until her bump was pressing down into her thighs. Her eyes snapped closed but all she could think and see behind her eyes was Evan.
Why wasn't he here? Why did she go out the station and into the car park? Why couldn't someone have heard her scream or noticed the struggle and stopped Caleb before he took her? Why was she all alone?
"I'm in labour… t-the baby's coming."
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thepitlanepress ¡ 3 days ago
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I DON'T LIKE IT –
↳ lando norris + bestfriend!reader
⌗ :: masterlist
⌗ :: a/n: im actually in a lando phase (maybe its bc i f1 is gone for months) but its effecting me so much so im blessing you all with JEALOUS/POSSESSIVE LANDOOOO AHHEHE. merry christmas my lovelies <33 (also if this is bad im sorry i was extremely tired when i wrote this lol)
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usually you don't like going out with lando. the clubs, partying, drinking it wasn't exactly your scene.
so when he insists you come out with him to celebrate the constructors championship, you can't exactly say no. hence, the short fitting black dress, and nicely done, hair and makeup that you've put on. when you go out, you go out, it just doesn't happen very often.
"are you nearly done?" lando's voice calls out from the living room as he waits for you.
"yeah, i'm coming now," you call back, walking down the stairs and mentally preparing yourself to talk and interact with people.
you grab the car keys off the small table in the hallway and make your way into the living room your footsteps announcing your presence to lando, he turns around and slightly falters in his movements when he sees you.
"uh, wow, okay," he says looking you up and down slowly, his eyes raking over your body.
"what?" your brows bunch and you look down at your outfit. "i thought it looked good, is there something wrong?"
"uh... no, no, you look amazing, i just wasn't expecting you to look so nic-"
"you weren't expecting me to look nice?" you raise your voice playfully.
"no, no, no i- uh- no- look... shit," lando mutters looking down and shaking his head. "you look amazing, seriously. i just forgot how well you can pull off a black dress."
you smile, and chuck the keys towards him, "i can pull off anything lando norris, even you. and that's not something everybody can do." you wink and walk back out through the hallway to the car.
"you can pull off me?"
"yeah, not every girl can have lando norris on her arm and still be the centre of attention. there are perks to being your best friend you know."
"and there are perks to being yours," lando says unlocking the car and sliding into the drivers seat. you feel the safest when he's driving, always trusting him when he's behind the wheel.
"oh really?" you ask looking over at him. "like what?"
"you," he murmurs backing out of the driveway. you don't hear him though, too distracted by a text you received from your sister.
–––
he didn't like it, you could tell. was it the murderous looks he was sending in the direction of the guy's - who's name you've already forgotten - or was it the looks he was sending you, heated and something else? both probably.
he wasn't even focused on the crowd around him dancing and drinking their nights away.
when the guy started getting too handsy that is when you felt lando's hand wrap around your waist and causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach - which you promptly ignored.
"leave her alone, mate. she's mine," lando's voice comes out harsh his anger directed towards the man who steps back apologising - typical of him to only step back when another man steps in.
"oh sorry, i didn't know," he slurs and walks off, most likely to go puke in some poor person's handbag.
you're about to spin around in lando's arms and thank him for rescuing you but you stop short at the expression on his face. "what?" you look down at your outfit. "is it the same thing from earlier? what's wrong?"
"i don't like it."
"don't like what?" you ask furrowing your brows.
"when other people touch you," he responds quietly his voice low and tempting. thats new.
"oh," you reply slightly dumbfounded. in all your years of knowing lando norris you've always had hidden feelings for him, sure there were points when said feelings were buried deep deep down, but they were always there.
and you always thought they were never reciprocated but they way lando is looking at you right now is... something new. something you like... a lot.
"i don't like people thinking they can just touch you. they can't. because you're mine not theirs. you're my best friend. you're my person. you're not theirs to touch or hold or flirt with, because you're mine."
his arms tighten around your waist as if he's expecting you to run away at any moment.
"oh my," you breathe. "i don't know what to say."
"tell me you feel the same way, tell me that i can be yours, because you're mine, and i'm not letting you go anytime soon."
"possessive are we?" you chuckle trying to diffuse the tension because he's probably drunk, he's going to wake up in the morning and apologise about this insisting he doesn't know what he was talking about and how sorry he was.
its happened so many times before.
your heart gets crushed every time. so you don't go out with him to avoid it.
but tonight this feels different.
"i haven't had a sip of alcohol tonight, this is the most clearheaded i've ever been in a long time... please talk to me."
"lando," you whisper. your heart is teetering on the edge of being shattered to pieces and finally telling the truth. you're walking a thin line between the two hoping to fall on the right side. "i don't want this to be like those other times when you wake up in the morning apologising for what you say."
"i never meant those apologies. i remember all those nights, i lied," he breathes swaying with you to the music. "i freaked out in the morning because you would always want to talk about what happened, and your face was always so distrusting so i shut it down pretending i didn't know what happened."
"really?" you're tilting on the line, swaying from side to side waiting for the words that are going to make or break you.
"really. i've been in love with you ever since the day you stopped to pick a flower that reminded you of me."
"lando," you give him a look. "that was like the second time we met."
"and i've been yours ever since." he smiles at you, his eyes filled with clear adoration, which quickly turns to a pissed off look when someone steps up behind you and asks for a dance. "piss off mate, we're clearly talking."
you smile and don't even bother to look back at the man, everything you've ever wanted is standing in front of you and offering himself on a platter for you. and you're tired, so tired of staying on the ledge between friends and more,
so you take the leap.
pulling him imperceptibly closer you wrap your arms around his neck and hug him tightly whispering in his ear, "i'm yours too."
you can physically feel his body relax and mold around yours - a perfect fit of course.
if you fall, it will hurt for sure, but this moment, right now; flying with him, together, will be worth it if you do.
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2024 Š thepitlanepress | please do not steal, use, translate or repost any of my works
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muniimyg ¡ 3 days ago
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⋆꙳•❅ knj: wit it this christmas ❆•꙳
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in which your boyfriend absolute sucks at wrapping gifts, leaving you to do all the work since… well, you don't suck. at least, not at gift wrapping!
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series m.list // taglist
note: hoe hoe hoe ,, let's begin the series <3
warning: kissing, tit fucking, nam joon slaps oc, blowjob, headpusher!joon, dirty talk (calls her cockslut, bitch, etc), face cum shot
//
the floor is a mess. 
it’s a chaotic spread of wrapping paper scraps, accidentally ripped bows, and ribbons cut the wrong length—not to mention the missing roll of tape…you’re sitting in the middle of it all, cross-legged and nearly about to lose your mind. 
meanwhile, namjoon sits beside you, scissors in hand and an expression somewhere between focused and defeated.
“namjoon, this is—this is not even remotely straight. what happened?”
“okay, first of all,” he starts, setting the scissors down exaggeratedly, “you gave me the world’s dullest scissors. second, who needs straight edges? it’s going to get ripped off in like, two seconds.”
“it’s the principle,” you reply, deadpan, as you take the scissors from him and start cutting yourself. “why would we give out poorly wrapped presents? this is our 2nd christmas together—”
he sighs dramatically, leaning back on his hands. “okay, okay…”
“you’re on tape duty,” you say, tossing the roll at him. he catches it clumsily, letting out a small “oof” as it hits his chest. 
“wow, demoted again,” he mutters, peeling off a piece of tape and sticking it to his forehead. “what’s next? moral support?”
“don’t tempt me.”
the playful banter carries on as you work, but it’s not long before the god of destruction himself strikes again. 
why didn’t you see this coming? 
namjoon somehow manages to get the tape stuck to itself, creating an unusable, crumpled mess. you groan, taking the mangled roll from him.
“oh my god. do you suck this bad? fuck, that’s it. you’re officially off tape duty,” you declare, pointing towards the door. “go buy more wrapping paper. now.”
he stares at you, lips twitching into a smirk. 
“wow, so controlling. is this how it’s going to be when we’re married? barking orders at me every two seconds?”
“maybe if you actually followed instructions, i wouldn’t have to bark orders.”
his smirk grows into a grin, and there’s a glint in his eye now, playful but challenging. 
“you know, you’re kind of scary when you’re in charge.”
“good.”
"hot too."
"shut up."
the tension shifts, thickening the air between you. his grin fades into something softer, and when he leans closer, the warmth of his breath brushes your cheek. your heart skips as his hand finds your wrist, halting your movements.
“you’re so bossy,” he murmurs, his voice low, teasing. 
as much as you want to get these presents wrapped and out of the way, there’s something about his voice that pulls you back. something that makes your pulse race. even so, you fight through the urge. 
“and you suck,” you counter, but your words come out quieter, softer than you intend. "useless."
he chuckles, the sound deep and warm, before he closes the distance between you entirely.
“useless, huh?” he says, tilting his head, his nose brushing yours. there’s a lazy smirk tugging at his lips now. “you don’t sound too convincing, you know.”
your breath hitches. 
“well, you’ve got me surrounded by evidence, namjoon. want me to list all the ways you’ve been no help tonight? you fucking suck.”
his fingers tighten slightly around your wrist, grounding you, his thumb brushing idly against your skin. 
“maybe i just needed the right kind of motivation.”
you narrow your eyes at him, but your pulse betrays you, hammering wildly in your chest.
“and what kind of motivation would that be?”
he doesn’t answer right away, just looks at you, his gaze slow and deliberate, like he’s memorizing every detail. when his free hand reaches up, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, you feel your breath catch again.
“maybe if you stopped looking so pretty,” he murmurs, his voice dipping lower, “i’d be able to focus.”
your cheeks burn, but you scoff, trying to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach. 
“pretty sure being able to cut paper straight has nothing to do with how i look.”
“that’s where you’re wrong,” he says softly, his lips dangerously close to yours now. “because the whole time i’ve been thinking about kissing you instead of—”
you don’t let him finish.
it’s instinctive, the way you close the distance, your lips pressing to his in a kiss that’s more impatient than soft. but he doesn’t seem to mind. his hand slips to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, while his other drops your wrist to settle on your waist.
the kiss deepens, slow and steady at first, before it grows more heated, all the playful tension from earlier unraveling between you. you can feel the faint press of his grin against your lips, making you smile too, even as your fingers tangle in his hair.
“so,” he murmurs against your lips when you finally break apart, his voice breathless, “am i still useless?”
“you’re getting there,” you reply, and before he can respond, you’re pulling him back in.
mid kiss, he pulls away and breathes; “you know how you’ve been yapping about how much i fucking suck at wrapping presents?” 
you nod. 
“let’s see how much you suck, boss.” 
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nam joon has you placed in between his thighs. 
your mouth wraps around the tip of his cock. kissing it lightly, you open your mouth wider to suck him in slowly. you only take the top half though, trying to warm him up. 
he’s leaning back against the couch and watching you with needy eyes. his eyebrows furrow as you take him deeper, letting a muffed moan out every now and then. for a moment, he squeezes his thighs together, trapping you. you almost choke from the lack of air, but it’s only enough for your eyes to get teary. when he lets go, you gasp for air. he smirks, liking the way you lost your breath. then, you get back into it.
as you drag your tongue along his length, he hisses; “yeah? that’s it, baby. lick my fucking cock. see how hard it is?”
“mhm? really fucking hard, baby.”
“take your tits out,” he instructs you, shifting so can have the space to take your shirt off. 
you do so. 
“like this?”
“yes,” nam joon murmurs as he helps you undress. nam joon reaches over to unclasp your bra. tossing it to the side, he grabs a handful of your breasts and bites his lip. “so fucking pretty, baby. tits so fucking juicy. so perfect. god, so fucking perfect…”
you tilt your head and shake your body, getting your tits to jiggle. he groans and slaps them. then, with a raspy and demanding voice, he says;
“be a good girl and fuck my cock with your tits, baby.”
you smile, liking the idea. 
repositioning yourself, you kneel over and hold both sides of your breasts. pushing them together, nam joon helps but gently guiding his cock into your cleavage. he thrusts slowly, and you both watch the way the tip of his dick pops out. 
you spit on top and he moans from the warmth of your saliva. 
before you know it, he’s fucking your tits. 
he pumps himself in and out, harder and harder by the minute. 
then, he places his hand on top of your head and holds you still as he pushes his cock into your mouth. 
“take it, bitch.” 
so you do. 
you take him in, sucking him hard and sloppy. you take him in so good, he’s near cumming. he can feel his dick harden inside your mouth and you do too. it’s like every curve and vein pops out, angry and ready to burst. you feel his body tense too—his thighs, his pelvis, and even the way his face winces… it’s such a huge tell. 
soon, nam joon begins to pant. then, he takes a handful of your hair and tugs your head back. surprised by his suddenness, you let go of everything. he bends over and kisses you, shoving his tongue inside. 
you kiss him back, matching his desperation and passion. 
when he pulls away, he cups your face with one hand and squishes your lips together. 
“do as i say,” he huffs. “okay, baby?”
you nod.
he slaps your face. 
“good girl.”
you moan and he slaps you again. roughly, cups your face and spits on you. his saliva sprays all over your face, but more on your lips. 
“what do you say?”
“thank you.”
“yeah, that’s right, bitch. you fucking say thank you when i spit in your face, right? because you’re such a fucking cockslut. you take me in so good, why? cos you love me? or because you love my cock?” 
you blink at him, pouting. 
“because i love you.”
he lets out a chuckle. 
“and my cock,” he adds. “say you love my cock, baby. then tell me what you love about it. say it while you suck me dry.” 
without another word, he pushes your head down and takes his cock in his hands. pumping it slowly, he shoves it into your mouth and hisses at you. 
“look at me,” nam joon deadpans. “don’t take your eyes off me.” 
you listen. 
you watch as the corner of his lips curve into a smirk. he holds his cock steady as he uses his other hand to push your head. 
headpusher. 
you breathe in through your nose, trying to steady yourself. as he pushes your head, his cock reaches the back of your throat multiple times. you gag every now and then, and he takes his cock out to give you some air. as you cough, he runs his thumb against your lips and asks if you’re okay. you simply nod and take him back in. 
you suck him off. 
lick him up. 
and soon enough, he lets go of your head. 
with your newfound freedom, you plop down and dig into his balls. 
as you shove your face deeper, sucking his balls and pressing kisses on his length, you tell him;
“mhmpphh… baby, your cock is so fucking hard in my mouth. did you feel how deep i took you? thank you for helping me, baby… such a good fucking daddy. always helping his girl take him in… you like that, right? you like how big your cock is… doesn’t even fit in my mouth.” 
“yeah?”
“mhm,” you hum, shifting up to suck the tip of his cock. then, you take in more. 
and more.
and even more.
his body tenses. 
you look up at him, batting your eyelashes. 
“see?” you ask, mouth full of his cock. you suck as much as you can as you bob your head up. “f-fuck, baby… i can’t wait for you to cum. i love the way you cum taste. you always make it so sweet for me. what do you wanna do today, hmm? cum on my face? cum on my tits? i want it all, baby… will you give it to me? can this fucking big hard cock give me what i need?”
nam joon nods. 
“yeah?” you ask him, continuing to suck him dry. 
you watch as his body winces. 
“how do i look?” 
“so pretty…” 
“pretty?” you tease. “you like it when i suck you cock like this? you’re such a mouthfull… you say i’m bossy? this is how you shut me up, right?”
“yeah.”
“looks like you’re the one that’s all shut up,” you giggle. “do i suck your cock that good?”
“so good… my pretty cockslut.”
you pout. “then what’s taking so long? cum already. i wanna swallow.”
nam joon bucks his hips and listens to your request. he fucks your mouth. nam joon grunts, squirms, and finally—he cums. 
when he does, his cum rushes out and splatters over your face. he aims for your mouth as you stick your tongue out. a part of you wishes he didn't pull out and just spilled himself entirely inside your mouth.
he wipes the cum that landed on your cheek and shoves his fingers in your mouth. you suck it clean and moan from the heavenly taste. before he can move, you reach over and grab a piece of ribbon on the floor.
he sits still and laughs as you tie and make a bow of it around the base of his cock. you get up and find your phone and quickly snap a picture. 
nam joon’s legs are sprawled wide with one arm draped lazily over the backrest. his posture isn’t anything close to refined—more slouched than seated (it’s the post-nut posture). in the picture, his head tilted, eyes half-lidded like everything about him was effortless. his cock has a pretty pink bow tied around it. 
when you kneel up to show him, he groans. 
“my dick looks too soft.”
you giggle. 
“not my problem.” 
just as you’re about to move away, he grabs you by your hair and tugs your back. he places a kiss on your cheek then on your lips. against them, he murmurs; 
“it will be if you don’t fucking put my cock back inside your pretty mouth."
"oh? is that it?"
nam joon smirks.
"mhm... be a good girl and swallow this time.”
"don't pull out then." you pout.
"i'm so sorry about that," he tilts his head. "i'll be good boy this time and cum inside your mouth."
"promise?"
"promise."
201 notes ¡ View notes
vxsellie ¡ 2 days ago
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⋆⁺₊❅.┆WARMTH - E.W
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summary. you'd have to be a fool not to notice the cloud of stress that embodies your girlfriend whenever she returns from patrol. in an attempt to salvage the singular ounce of patience she's been desperately hanging onto for the past few weeks, you've yet to address it. but when she's assigned to go on patrol on christmas eve — which she'd been looking forward to spending in your company in hopes of being able to decorate your shared home prior to christmas — that seems to snap the thread. in her absence, you do all you can to alleviate a bit of the tension in her shoulder before her return. notes. the one, the only, jackson!ellie (cue everyone cheering bc ik i am). i've been dying to write something that aligns a bit more naturally with canon bc everything i have on his acc is an au. i love my stories, don't get me wrong, but i can't lie and day i'm happy with that fact. anyway! here she is!! merry chistmas to all who celebrate it, i love u guys <33333 wc. 1.6k
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the moment the words left maria's mouth, ellie was already planning how to strangle the woman despite it not having been her fault. she's been on patrol day after day, making it nigh impossible for her to catch a fucking break.
it's her first christmas with you, the two of you having started dating in early march. she was so excited to spend the holiday with you, drinking cocoa by the fire and decorating the tree you'd picked out together. she had woke this morning with the widest smile in knowing it was christmas eve, waking you by peppering kisses across your face until you started giggling. the stark contrast between then and now is almost dizzying.
she'd been so happy in your company, nestled within the plaid covers on the bed. you skin radiated a gentle heat that she found herself clinging to. but then she was assigned this expedition and all the contentment instantly drained from her body as she dreaded sharing the news. but you weren't mad. you just gave a sad smile, an even sadder kiss, then told her to be safe. your lack of irritation almost made the entire thing more tragic.
it's been weeks since the two of you have been able to spend an entire day without interruption. something always arises — whether that be her abundance of patrols, your own mass of them, or one of you being called to speak with someone or work a shift at one of the shops. hence her excitement for christmas eve.
she's currently trudging through the snow with a deep scowl on her face. her boots crunch with each step, the sound only aggravating her. there's a low hum of civilization as she walks through the streets of jackson toward home. a few people attempt to speak with her, only to be dismissed rather harshly as she continues her march through the snow.
the weather is unbearable, a biting cold that makes her bones rattle. on top of that, the moon is high in the sky. meaning she was gone all day as she'd left at dawn.
she reaches your shared home, stomping up the steps of the porch before fumbling with the key. the metal feels like icy against her already frozen fingers as she struggles with it. she's about to give up and sleep on the porch when the door creaks open and your head pokes out. instantly, you beam at her. she gives a weak smile in return despite her personal distaste for the whole of today.
you reach for your coat, step into your slippers and join her on the porch. she's a bit confused by this, but says nothing. you're wearing a pair of festive pajama pants. they're adorable, though she knows they likely do nothing for the cold. you're shivering as you pull the jacket tight around your shoulders.
"what're you doing out here?" she asks, having to put an effort to keep her irritation out of her voice. after all, it's not you she's mad at. it's the situation. you're honestly the best thing that's happened to her today, providing her with warmth this morning as well as a kind smile right now in spite of her harsh tone.
"i have a surprise for you." you say through chattering teeth, which are upturned into a bright smile. "close your eyes before you go inside."
"babe, we agreed no presents until tomorrow." she huffs.
you shoot her a look and she instantly quiets, knowing what you're wordlessly conveying — a reminder to keep her attitude in check when you're done naught wrong. she obliges, offering an apologetic frown before placing her hands over her eyes. her frozen fingertips freeze the skin of her face and she shivers. but when she feels your hand wrap around her bicep and begin guiding her inside, warmth spreads across her at the feel of your comforting familiarity.
she steps inside and is assaulted by the scent of chocolate and pine. the scent of christmas. she's yearning to remove her hands, but withholds from doing so. for your sake. god, you're lucky she loves you so much or she'd not be doing this when her mood is so shitty.
she hears the door shut behind her, your footsteps moving about the living room as she continues to stand in place by the door. your now bare feet pad across the wooden flooring, her sense of smell and hearing heightened in the absence of her sight. the domesticity of your body moving around your shared home is almost overwhelmingly intimate. she knows the sound of your feet, hearing them all day every day. well, not so much recently. she hadn't noticed how much she missed such tiny details of you. like your footsteps — which are suddenly approaching her.
she expects your voice to come first, the order to remove her hands from her eyes. but instead, another sense is brought to her attention as she feels the gentle press of your lips against hers. it feels like the first time she'd ever kissed you. the way it shocks her, then comforts her, then an array of sparks and nerves trace through her body. she desperately wishes she could pull you closer, but her hands are currently unable to be used.
"okay." you breathe after pulling away, voice laced with childlike excitement. "you can open them."
she doesn't hesitate to do so, removing her hands from her eyes. the first thing she notices is you standing a mere two inches from her. everything else dulls in the wake of your brilliance. your festive pajama pants hanging from your hips, your coat still lazily draped over your shoulders, your hair clearly not having been brushed all day as it's frayed on the ends. she finds herself staring at you adoringly, her pupils blown in a sense of fondness.
you giggle, "stop looking at me, look at the house!" begrudgingly, she does. and, needless to say, she's not disappointed.
your guys' house is in the structure of a cabin, the walls and floors made of wood. it's small and open, allowing her to see the entire interior from where she stands. the christmas tree you two had chosen a few weeks ago is now adorned with yellow lights, casting a warm lighting across the space. a few presents sit beneath it, wrapped neatly with ellie's name scribbled onto the tags. the mantle above the fireplace is covered in cute decorations as well, snow globes and little glass deer sitting idly atop the wood. the kitchen is decorated as well, a ceramic santa sitting on the counter atop a plaid table runner. next to him sits two mugs, steam pooling over the edges of them — one red, one green. the perviously cold, empty house is now made into a cozy home.
you two haven't yet been dating for a year and you've already moved in together (lesbians smh), so the house has been rather empty. you've put in all the furniture with help from joel and jesse and tommy, but it's been missing something. the touch of love. the touch of you.
"do you like it?" you ask, nerves evident in your tone. she turns to notice you're wringing your hands, fiddling with your fingers in anticipation for her reply. you instantly rush out an explanation. "i know i probably should have waited for you because i know how excited you were to decorate, but i knew how stressed you've been and wanted to get something out of the way. so you wouldn't have to worry about it. i left a few things still empty, like your boxes are still in the bedroom and a few walls are blank because i don't know what you want hung there. also, i was struggling with the bathroom, so—"
she interrupted you by grabbing your face, cradling your warm cheeks in her frozen fingers. she smiles at you softly, "i love it."
a wide smile breaks across your face and you lean to kiss her. she kisses you back, now able to hold you as she wants. she pulls your body against hers, but you suddenly yank backward. she blinks a few times, worried she'd hurt you somehow.
"you're freezing." you state before raking your eyes up her body. "your jacket is still covered in snow and so are your shoes. els, go change before you get a cold."
she frowns but obliges. you're right, her jacket — which she'd, admittedly, stolen from joel a few weeks prior — is coated with snow and rain and whatever else she got into while killing infected all day. her converse are also wet, the snow having melted and seeped into her socks.
she goes into the bedroom, instantly smiling when she sees how you'd decorated it. the pillows are changed into red and green silk covers and there's a knitted rug on the floor. there's a candle on each nightstand, the scent of cinnamon and clove filling the air. through the window's newly installed crimson curtains, snow falls to the ground in gentle flurries. if you ask ellie, snow is much more enjoyable from afar.
she notices that your dresser is now full rather than having your entire wardrobe shoved into boxes. hers isn't though, as you hadn't known how she'd like her drawers organized. that's fine, though. she digs through the clothing for a comfy outfit and changes into it, now wearing a white linen shirt and a pair of dark grey shorts.
she exits the room to see you sitting at the counter with the red mug between your hands. you're blowing on the hot cocoa, your hair still messy. she joins you, sitting on the wooden stool to your left and grabbing the green one. you see her and smile, pressing a kiss to her cheek before you rest your head on her shoulder.
in this moment, under the warm glow of yellow christmas lights, amid the scent of your candles and chocolate and pine, and most of all being near you, she couldn't imagine ever being happier.
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260 notes ¡ View notes
hunieday ¡ 7 hours ago
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Yuki - 16PRODUCERS Rabbit Chat
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Please note that I am not a professional translator and I'm only doing this to share the side materials to those who cannot access them, if you notice any mistakes please let me know nicely. Enjoy!
Momo: (Good morning... Momo from Re:vale here...)
Momo: (Today I’m at Yuki’s place early in the morning…. To have a very exceptional conversation... Okarin, can you hear me…)
Okazaki Rinto: Thank you for your hard work, Momo-kun! But what’s with the odd energy, it’s as if you’re playing a wake-up prank?
Momo: (I’m keeping the energy low since Yuki’s still stuck drifting in dreamland…)
Yuki: I’m sleepy
Momo: Kyaa! Yuki’s here in person!! Even sleepy Yuki is super handsome 😍✨
Momo: Yuki just got up from the sofa! 🥺🌟 Okariiiin! How are things going in the studio?
Okazaki Rinto: Yuki-kun, thanks for your hard work as well. So I’m supposed to be stationed in the studio?
Okazaki Rinto: The president walked out to attend a meeting just now, so it’s really quiet here. I just made some coffee!
Momo: You’re all set for the discussion!! And guess what, Yuki’s brewing some tea for us too! 😭 Such a gentleman...! 😭✨
Momo: Camera crew, zoom in closer‼️
Okazaki Rinto: There’s a camera crew?
Momo: I’m the camera crew!
Yuki: Momo brought two phones today for some reason.
Momo: Well yeah, since we’re gonna talk via rabbichat today I wouldn’t be able to capture your beautiful face otherwise!!! So I brought my spare phone to record you 😎😎
Yuki: How dedicated
Okazaki Rinto: How very dedicated.
Momo: Hey wait a sec, I just noticed while I was snapping pics but is your neck hurting, Yuki!?!?!?!?!?
Yuki: You caught me. I probably slept wrong.
Yuki: I fell asleep at the desk while I was composing and now I can’t turn my head to the right
Momo: Huhhhh!!!! Then I’ll sit on your right side to protect your neck!!
Yuki: Absolutely not. I won’t be able to see your face
Momo: Wait a sec,,,,,,
Momo: Yuki, aren’t you pulling the Super Darling gun a bit too early in the morning….being this beautiful should be illegal!?!?!? 😭😭
Yuki: Only for you, Momo.
Yuki: But what exactly are you protecting my neck from?
Momo: Oh you know, a stray baseball flying in from the right, or someone bumping into you and making you stumble!!
Yuki: That’s straight out of a manga.
Yuki: So what would you do if a water bucket came flying in from the left?
Momo: I’ll dash to block it and say something like “close call…”!!! lolololol
Momo: Wait, Yuki, why’s your manga knowledge so extensive!?!?
Yuki: Ruri-san made me read some when I visited your house.
Momo: What the hell is nee-san plotting lololololol
Yuki: It was pretty interesting.
Okazaki Rinto: I’m glad you seem to be enjoying yourselves over there! Now then, shall we get started?
Momo: Sorry Okarin lolololol we’re sitting across from each other and ready to start 🤩 
Okazaki Rinto: Good! They requested a laid-back, relaxed conversation for this, that’s why we’re doing it through rabbichat.
Okazaki Rinto: Let’s start with Yuki-kun, how did you feel when you heard that Momo-kun was going to produce your song?
Yuki: I was really happy of course. Momo always gives me energy with his warm words, so I was curious about what kind of melody he would give me through this production.
Yuki: Momo’s very good at conveying his feelings, so I always felt like he’d have a knack for creating music that resonates with people, something that lingers in their minds and stays in their hearts, warm and comforting.
Okazaki Rinto: I see…! That’s a perspective only someone who regularly composes music would have.
Momo: Oh you... You always make me happy with your words, Yuki 🥲
Momo: But to be honest, it was suuuuper stressful….
Yuki: Really? Even though “Can’t Stop Emotion” turned out amazing.
Momo: Yuki,,,,
Yuki: It’s tough, but also a lot of fun, right? Making music I mean.
Momo: Yeah. It was a lot of fun.
Momo: I didn’t fully compose the song myself since it was a team effort, so I didn’t fully understand everything you do but
Momo: Having to convey my feelings through something other than words and gestures was super difficult, but I was so happy. How do I explain it… I treasure that feeling!
Yuki: I can relate
Yuki: Whenever I’m working on a new song, I start cursing everything around me. I contemplate never working on anything like that ever again, quitting songwriting altogether. But when I’m finished and I hear Momo’s voice on the song, I realize that “ah, there’s no other job that could make me happier than this.”
Momo: Yuki,,,Can I sit next to you,,,,?
Yuki: This position is very comfortable.
Momo: Awwww ‼️ I got rejected 😭‼️
Okazaki Rinto: So Momo-kun, how did you decide on what direction to take amidst all your hard work?
Momo: First and foremost, I thought about what kind of Yuki I wanted to portray! Like the Yuki who’s not a morning person, the Yuki who’s super proactive when it counts, the Yuki who’s sensitive and overflowing with emotion, the Yuki who’s amazing at cooking, super into cleaning, who’s just a kind, dashing gentleman with a beautiful voice…
Momo: But at the end of the day, I wanted to shine the spotlight on Yuki’s passion for music. A quiet, calm, yet fiercely unwavering flame. I wanted to express that dignified strength and the freedom in his boundless music.
Momo: And that’s the reason why the intro is quiet and minimalistic, but as the chorus hits, the music bursts forth like it’s flying, flapping its wings, dancing, being set free, going on a journey! Those are the feelings that resonate within me when I listen to the music Yuki makes for me!
Yuki: You really put a lot of thought into this
Yuki: You have real talent, Momo
Momo: Huhhh???!!! you don’t have to flatter meee 😆 even though that makes me happy 😆✨
Yuki: I’m serious.
Momo: Y-You really made your point come across...
Okazaki Rinto: What on earth just happened over there?
Momo: Yuki sat down next to me 🥹🥹
Yuki: I made sure to face him from the side that doesn’t hurt.
Yuki: It’s just as you described, Momo. When I got the demo, I was moved by how the song felt like it was taking me on an ever-changing journey.
Yuki: I felt the same way I did the day you brought me out of that dark place, showing me so many new and different sides of this world.
Yuki: Maybe that’s why the song felt familiar to me.
Momo: You’re the one who changed my world, Yuki!
Momo: Back when I thought there was only one path for me, when I felt trapped and depressed, I came across the music you wrote.
Momo: It warmed my frozen body, frigid to the tips of my fingers, brought color back to my world, and filled me with the urge to move ahead, to be passionate about something.
Momo: I poured all those feelings from back then, how I feel now, as well as my desire for us to always stay at the top into the lyrics!
Yuki: I wouldn’t have been able to move forward if not for your words.
Yuki: I felt like giving up on everything at some point, I could’ve thrown it all away. But you’ve always been there to save me. That’s why it’s all for y-
Yuki: No
Yuki: Nevermind, I don’t think I can say that right now, but I will tell you this
Yuki: "Can’t Stop Emotion" will be my treasure, always and forever.
Yuki: Stay by my side and keep singing with me, Momo. You’re the absolute king, unparalleled by anyone.
Momo: Okay,,,
Momo: A long, heartfelt message from Yuki,,,I’m eating so well,,,
Okazaki Rinto: What a wonderful day for you two to be honest with each other. I’ll keep supporting Re:vale forever and beyond!
Okazaki Rinto: Alright, can you please tell us more about the costume?
Momo: Sure!!! First of all, Yuki’s like a snow fairy who descended upon us during winter, so I pictured the stars shining brightly in the clear winter night sky 🪄🧚‍♂️☃️
Yuki: A fairy, huh?
Momo: You’re such a beautiful fairy that your face stands out amidst the clashing patterns! I wanted to show off your gorgeous sex appeal, that’s why I decided to express that with a variety of intricate patterns💫
Momo: And then I added chiffon material to the jacket to evoke the image of the starry sky, with scattered, shiny silver details all over, paired it with slim-fit pants to accentuate Yuki’s figure and balance the outfit for a sharp, smart look!! 💫
Yuki: Your fingers move so fast when you’re talking about me that it’s impressive
Momo: Well I am talking about Yuki after all 👍👍
Okazaki Rinto: Thank you for the passionate explanation! What about the details in the photoshoot itself?
Momo: Didn’t it look like a snow fairy had descended!? 🪄🧚‍♂️☃️ I really wanted to make it snow for real, but I didn’t want Yuki to feel cold, I was thinking about what to do and then it hit me…
Momo: Why not use light to represent that snow!? And that’s how we got Yuki, sparking gorgeously like the handsome man he is 🌟
Yuki: Everything was dazzling for real 
Momo: That’s how much Yuki shines in my eyes! From the first time we met until now! Forever and always!!
Yuki: Really? You’re always shining bright, Momo.
Momo: For real!? 🥹 Then we can always enjoy that light together 🎄
Yuki: That’s true ^^
Okazaki Rinto: It’s Christmas, so that works perfectly!
Momo: I love how you’re always watching from a distance without interrupting when we’re like this, Okarin 🥹
Okazaki Rinto: I’m flattered! As much as I’d love to see more of your shenanigans, it’s time for you to say a few words to your fans…!
Momo: "Can’t Stop Emotion" is like a selfish wish of mine. It doesn’t portray the gentle, idol-like Yuki. Instead fully expressing my admiration, my love for him, my passion and my promise to keep going as the kings.
Momo: So, I hope our fans listen to this song and continue supporting us, forever and ever. We’ll fly towards the miracle waiting for us tomorrow!
Yuki: Momo called it “a selfish song”, so I want everyone to know how elated I am and how tremendously important it is to me that Momo’s being this selfish.
Yuki: And I feel so much more determined now that this song has been gifted to me. I’ll continue to be the absolute champion, together with Momo. And I hope all of you will follow us.
Yuki: Thanks to Momo, I’ve rediscovered the joy of creating music. I know what it’s like to push through everything to go on, to aim higher and higher. That’s why Re:vale is invincible.
Yuki: There’s no one greater than us, is there? Let’s move towards the future we want to see with you, with everyone.
Momo: Yuukiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
Yuki: Momo’s crying now.
Okazaki Rinto: Maybe he’s still hung up on the fact that you couldn’t wipe his tears last time!? (1)
Yuki: Today’s a Re:valeful day, so come over when you’re done, Okarin.
Okazaki Rinto: What do you have in mind?
Momo: Oh yeah, we’re gonna rewatch all our past live performances! We’re gonna reminisce over drinks! (๑>؂•̀๑)👍
Yuki: It felt like the right time to reflect on everything we’ve done so far, especially fresh off producing songs for each other.
Okazaki Rinto: Is it really okay for me to intrude on such a special day...?
Momo: Of course! Re:vale’s journey would be incomplete with you, Okarin!
Yuki: Re:vale’s what it is because you’re here with us.
Okazaki Rinto: Thank you so much! I’ll bring something tasty with me!!
Momo: Hell yeah! Then, let’s chat until morning!! 🥳
(1)This is a reference to Momo’s 16PRODUCERS Rabbit chat.
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suzukiblu ¡ 3 days ago
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So like, I don’t actually remember where I first saw the concept of soulmates getting access to each other’s superpowers but I very much needed to write something about it. Especially because that thought gave me some thoughts about how certain characters' origins/powers have gotten retconned, and welllll . . . We'll just call this WIP behind the cut here "soulmate superpowers".
The real problem with the marked increase in the global population of superpowered individuals both on Earth and in reality in general is what happens when they meet their soulmates. And the problem also depends, depending on the kind of soulmate. With romantic and platonic soulmates, the problem only happens on and off, which is much more manageable. 
Familial soulmates, though . . . for those the problem isn’t just “sometimes”, and therefore isn’t quite as “manageable”. 
Cadmus didn’t really tell Experiment Thirteen much about how soulmates worked, though, so when the full Kryptonian powerset only kicked in after the Kid met the real, original Superman for the first time . . . 
Well. He hadn’t known that was something he maybe should’ve thought a little more about, at the time.
.
.
.
“Wait up,” Serling Roquette says, staring down blankly at her tablet. She’s sixteen and crazy-weird and brand-new to Cadmus and showed up in wild clothes to apparently run the genetics department now that they’re under new management. Or something like that, Superboy guesses. He only signed on about five minutes before Roquette did, but she asked for a DNA sample to compare to his previous on-file samples and, like, cross-reference with them or whatever, he doesn’t know, he kinda stopped understanding what she was talking about by that point. “You’re supposed to have Kryptonian DNA in your setup?” 
“. . . uh,” Superboy says, because what kind of question is that? “Yeah? Like, no shit, doc, I didn’t get heat vision and ice breath from the human half.” 
Admittedly he is terrible with both of them, but he does have them. He just kinda avoids using them, is all. He fucks enough shit up with his TTK as it is; he doesn’t need to add frost damage and burny melty destruction on top of that. 
He’s thought about asking Superman for tips on ‘em a couple times, but he always feels real stupid when he does. Like, what kind of an even-only-half Kryptonian is he, if he can’t figure that shit out on his own? Superman did. And hell, even that asshole Henshaw did, and that prick isn’t even actually Kryptonian, he just– 
“This is human DNA, youngblood,” Roquette says, looking up at him. “Like, literally all human DNA. Real heavily augmented human DNA, we're talking ultra-crush gravity here, but like–you know, like somebody tried to forge the artist’s signature, but they didn’t actually think to use the right pen?” 
“What?” Superboy says blankly. 
“Do people not actually ever look at your DNA?” Roquette says. “Is that not a thing? You’re a clone, how are people not ever actually looking at your DNA?” 
“People look at it all the time,” Superboy says, still thrown off by what it sounds like she’s saying. That’s–he’s not–what is she saying? 
“Are they, like, mad stupid, then?” Roquette asks skeptically, wrinkling her nose and raising an eyebrow. “It’s literally the wrong pen. It’s the wrong ink. It’s not even a pen!” 
“I have literally no idea what you’re sayin’, Doc,” Superboy says, staring blankly at her. 
“I’m saying you’re about as Kryptonian as a human can get, which is literally zero point zero percent,” Roquette replies frankly, half-waving her tablet at him. “Whoever built you–” 
“Mostly Dabney Donovan, unfortunately,” Superboy says. 
“–okay, well, is Dabney Donovan as much of a lying shithead as I’ve always heard?” Roquette asks, waving her tablet at him again. “Because the data supports him being a lying shithead. He twisted your genes through a Kryptonian-shaped mold, maybe, but they’re still human genes. Fully and totally and like, seriously, does no one ever look at your DNA?” 
“I’m just human?” Superboy says blankly. “I–no I’m not! I have Kryptonian powers!” 
“Yeah, about that,” Roquette says. “No you don’t.” 
“What?” he says. She flips her tablet to face him; stabs a brightly-manicured nail emphatically at a bunch of figures and graphs he can’t understand at all. 
“You don’t have a single superpower except for tactile telekinesis,” she replies, frank and matter-of-fact. “None nada nothing and zip zilch zero. Genetically speaking, you are a highly-specialized highly-flexible telekinetic, but that’s it. That’s all you got in the playbook, youngblood."
Superboy stares at her. She keeps holding her tablet up like he’s gonna just suddenly magically understand what all the figures and graphs on it mean. 
“What?” he repeats, and feels like a fucking idiot about it. 
“When did you get the Kryptonian powers?” Roquette asks. “Like, did you come straight out the cloning solution with those, or . . . ?” 
“I didn’t get any yellow sun in development,” Superboy says, feeling–disconnected, sort of, and a little numb. What does–that doesn’t–he’s Superman’s clone. Like, only halfway, but– 
If he’s not Superman’s clone . . . is he just made out of that piece of shit Westfield, if . . . ? 
“Okay,” Roquette says. “So did you get the powers soon as you hit daylight, then?” 
“No,” he says. “I didn’t–not until–” 
When did they start kicking in? It took a few weeks or so, he knows. Maybe . . . maybe a little bit longer? It was– 
“Did it happen before you met Big Blue, or after?” Roquette asks real pointedly, and Superboy thinks he stops thinking, maybe. Just–everything in his head disappears all at once, and his mind goes totally blank, and . . . and he . . . 
“I’m not–I–” he tries to say, and doesn’t even know what he is trying to say. 
“Yeah,” Roquette says. “Like I said. You don’t have Kryptonian powers. You’ve got your soulmate’s powers.” 
Superboy stares at her for one more second, then bolts out of the lab without another word.
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m00nkissedlover ¡ 2 days ago
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・。tasty confessions 🥮
you've ordered: a vanilla gingerbread tart! enjoy!
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"this is falling, falling in love"
leona kingscholar x reader | word count: 1,418 words
summary: holiday confession gone wrong...and right? 🥮
warnings: none!
note: i don't celebrate christmas, so in the fic, i didn't specify the holiday (used "holiday season" instead)
"trey, a little help here?" you yelled, attempting to carry two trays of tart shells out of the oven.
"ah, coming! you've gotta be careful, y/n." the green haired boy reminded you, rushing over and taking one of the trays.
the cozy holiday season had settled upon night raven college rather nicely. decorations were put up and plans for celebration were in full swing. and you intended to make this one extra special.
you'd decided to bake tarts for your friends in the various dorms and even a few for the night raven staff. as you filled the shells with various creams and custards, trey helped you out, offering up his baking expertise when you were caught in the weeds about how to do this.
as you now cut up various fruits and other sweets for decoration, the door to the kitchen opened and in walked cater, holding grim in his arms.
"i couldn't get him to stop. he somehow smelled your tarts from down the hall." cater said, seeming like he'd put in a lot of effort in trying to stop the cat-like creature.
"hey, you better save some for me, henchman!" grim exclaimed, hopping out of cater's arms and onto the counter.
"don't worry grim. after i'm done, i'll make you all the tuna tarts you want." you smiled, scratching under his chin.
"hey y/n, why are these tarts different than all the others?" cater questioned, pointing to a small batch of tarts that were obviously different from the others.
your cheeks colored a bit upon being questioned, your hand almost dropping the spoon you held.
"those are...for leona." you admitted, cater letting out an excited "ooh!"
it was no secret that you had a crush on leona. the lion beastman had caught your attention the first day you'd arrived. you used to think he was lazy and rude, but after being around him for a while, your outlook changed. and so did your feelings.
"i plan on writing a note to him in which i confess my feelings and...putting in in his tart bag..." you murmured, your cheeks warming up in embarrassment.
"confessing to him with tarts? how cute." trey quipped, placing a tray of finished tarts into the fridge to chill.
"yeah, i just hope it goes well..."
"oh trust me, i'm sure he likes you too. leona isn't keen on putting up with people just like that." cater said, swiping a bit of cream onto his finger and tasting it.
"cater!" you scolded, rushing to grab grim before he dunked his whole head in the bowl.
"alright, alright! enough fun. i've gotta get back to baking." you playfully grumbled, shooing them out.
a day had passed since you cooked up your delicious sweet treats. each person had 5 tarts, all in a clear bag with a colored ribbon on top. you went around to each dorm handing out the tasty tarts and to your surprise, everyone loved them!
you finally stopped in front of your final destination: the savanaclaw dorms. you clutched the basket in your hands, glancing down at it to do one last check. one for ruggie, one for jack, and obviously one for....?! you then realized you were short one bag...and it was the most important bag of all. just where was leona's bag??
in haste, you quickly scrambled back over to heartslabyul, ignoring a nagging riddle as you barged into the kitchen. you looked everywhere, every nook and cranny. absolutely nothing.
you grabbed your phone, calling trey.
"hey trey. have you seen the tarts i made for...you know who?" you asked, praying that he knew something.
"no, sorry y/n. the last i saw of them was when i left last night, and they were still in your basket. did something happen?" he asked, seeming concerned.
"uh, you know what? don't worry about it. thanks trey." you said before hanging up.
it wasn't like the tarts had grown legs and ran away! you didn't have time for this. and you definitely didn't have the time to make new tarts. you asked across the dorms (except savanaclaw) if they'd seen the tarts, to which everyone responded no. what were you going to do?
as you paced around the hallway, someone called out your name. turning, you were met by ruggie, a member of savanaclaw. upon seeing your panic, ruggie made his way over to you, tail flicking.
"y/n, what's wrong? you look more stressed than leona when he can't get his favorite sandwich." he asked.
you let out a sigh of defeat, leaning against the wall. "i made tarts for everyone to celebrate the holidays. i also made...special tarts for leona. i was going to tell him how i feel today, but...i can't find his damn tarts!" you groaned.
"well, what did they look like?" ruggie asked.
"they were in a clear bag like everyone else's. but his had a yellow and black ribbon on it, whereas the ones for you and jack were just yellow." you could already see the guilt on ruggie's face.
"spit it out."
"i may or may not have found said package of tarts...and given them to leona-" ruggie mumbled, visibly sweat-dropping.
your mouth fell open in horror as you realized the situation you were in. leona...had already gotten your tarts!
"ruggie, where is leona right now?" you asked urgently, shoving the basket into his arms.
"oof! uhhh...i think he's in the botanical garden. that's where i gave it to him."
you made a mad dash down the hall, bursting into the garden. your eyes frantically looked around, spotting a tail in the corner of your eye.
when you got closer, your stomach dropped as you saw leona, already breaking into the sweet treats.
"need something, herbivore?" the beastman asked, his tail flicking.
you swallowed, taking a breath before walking over and snatching up the note.
"you didn't read this, right?" you asked, leona smirking as he licked cream off of the corner of his lips.
"and what if i did?" he challenged, your heart dropping.
"h-how much did you-?" "all of it."
the note fell from your hands, your heart aching as you looked leona in the eyes. damn...this was embarrassing.
as you tried to keep yourself from panicking, you stepped closer to him, kneeling down to his level. "so...how do you feel about what you read?"
leona let out a soft "hm", as if he were thinking of the perfect response. "come a little closer." he said.
you shuffled a bit closer to him, mumbling a soft "yeah?" as you did. the lion man just smirked, beckoning you closer.
"come on herbivore, get closer. just a little. and close your eyes."
you moved closer till you were practically touching noses with leona, your eyes fluttering shut. you felt like your heart would leap out of your chest at any given moment.
thwack! you pulled back, your eyes opening in surprise. leona had just flicked you in the forehead!
"what the hell, leona?" you exclaimed, your hand flying up to caress the spot he'd flicked.
"you really are dense." "what-"
leona leaned in a bit closer this time, his breath tickling your cheek. "you think i ate your tarts out of pity? if i didn't want 'em, i could've easily given 'em away. seems i've taken...a liking to you, herbivore."
you froze right there, on the spot. you couldn't believe what you were hearing. THE leona kingscholar just confessed to YOU. you didn't have time to think before leona captured your chin between his thumb and index finger, his emerald green eyes locking with yours.
"hm, you still don't seem very convinced." before you could even think...leona's lips were on yours.
the kiss was soft and warm and made you feel all fuzzy inside. you slowly eased into it, your hands coming up to cup his face as a warmth flowed through your body.
when it was over, you nodded your head, a slight flush on your cheeks. "yeah...i get it now..."
leona let out an amused chuckle, pulling you down to lay with him, a soft yelp leaving you.
"don't you usually sleep alone?" you mumbled, your face warming up.
"you owe me. all your tarts made me sleepy. your punishment is to lay with me and not move a muscle."
you laughed a little, reaching up to tuck a bit of hair behind his ear. "should be easy enough."
and just like that, your holiday was one to remember.🥮
Š m00nkissedlover, 2024
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yurinaa-world ¡ 1 day ago
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Hi! Could you make an artist reader? Basically a painter who draws his partner or cats, etc?
With the characters Aventurine, Sampo, Moze, Dan Heng (I'm using this with a translator so I don't know if it's spelled correctly...)
2#"𝓓𝓻𝓪𝔀 𝓶𝓮 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓱 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵𝓼"
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💫𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Aventurine, Sampo, & Moze x Gender-Neutral reader
💫𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: with a reader who's an artist
💫𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff, & Spelling mistakes
💫Dan Heng's part is here: 💫
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💫𝒜𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑒 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝑒𝓃𝒾𝑜𝓇 𝑀𝒶𝓃𝒶𝑔𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝐼𝒫𝒞 𝒮𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓉𝑒𝑔𝒾𝒸 𝐼𝓃𝓋𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒟𝑒𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉"
“Not bad, not bad at all. You really know what catches my good side.”
It was supposed to be a gift painting of him, your delicate, nimble fingers first sketched it out before picking out colours and finally taking a brush and painting over the canvas sketch with extreme eye for detail.
He always loved to barge in whenever he felt like it, but now it is a very bad moment! He saw it when you were almost finished! Seriously, you wanted to surprise him so badly. You whirl around cheeks already flushed from the intensity of your concentration, now burning hotter with embarrassment. 
"Y-you weren’t supposed to see it yet!" you stammer, instinctively moving to shield the canvas with your arms, though it's far too late. He smirks, leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed. 
"Oh, come on. You can't blame me for being curious. I mean, you’ve been holed up in here for days, looking all suspicious."
He goes silent for a bit, staring at the painting for a while…
He's sort of left completely speechless by you.
“Wow, what detail. How about I put this up in my office.” he grinned, while you completely protested the idea because you weren’t finished 
“No way! It’s not finished.”
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💫𝒮𝒶𝓂𝓅𝑜 𝒦𝑜𝓈𝓀𝒾 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝒾𝓁𝓋𝑒𝓇-𝒯𝑜𝓃𝑔𝓊𝑒𝒹 𝒮𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓂𝒶𝓃"
“I didn’t do anything wrong.” 
He whined and cried till his throat went dry, but even then that wouldn’t stop his extremely annoying cries. All while you listen and skim through your supplies, nit-picking at what you need all while your canvas is stood in front of a Sampo who’s tied to the chair. 
“Dear Sampo just wanted to make some profits, and those paintings have been there for years, I was just doing you a favour!”
You only sigh at his words. You don’t like to sell your painting, especially with a vendor like Sampo of all people. It may have been ancient yet you didn’t want to get rid of it.
the idea that it may be hanging on a wall in some random place, bought by Sampo’s tricks at a higher price, gave you an unpleasant feeling in your mouth. “You are something, you know,” you whispered, taking a palette knife and twirling it around in your fingers. Not for a show of power—even if you’d like Sampo to see it that way—but because it helped your mind stay focused.
At an exaggerated rate, Sampo shrank back while his chair was making a squeaky noise, signifying his discomfort. “I mean, come on, be realistic, let’s think logically about it! I’m only the middleman in the process here, attempting to make your raw talent the new trend!” 
“You’re right, so in turn for your service I decided to give you something to sell as well.” you smile with joy, as you sit down on the chair in front of my canvas, which makes him sweat dearly on what you’re about to do. 
You lean back, tilting your head as if to get a better view of your subject. “You’d make a... striking muse, don’t you think?” Sampo’s cheeks flush a deep red. “Striking? I—I mean, I am a good-looking guy, but—wait a second! What kind of striking are we talking about here?” 
“You're right, someone would like a painting of a guy like you, I wonder in what position though,” you mutter that last part but you know he heard “Your beauty will sell for millions just like you wanted.”
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💫𝑀𝑜𝓏𝑒 “𝒮𝒽𝒶𝒹𝑜𝓌 𝒢𝓊𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒳𝒾𝒶𝓃𝓏𝒽𝑜𝓊 𝒴𝒶𝑜𝓆𝒾𝓃𝑔”
“Moze.”
One call of his name and he’ll be landing at your feet to see what you need him to do. Appearing behind you, his hands gently landing on your shoulders—still scaring you to death, before whispering “You called” under his breath, yet loud enough for you to hear.
Immediately turning around and clasping your hands with his, along with a giant smile on your face. “Moze! Could you be my subject!”
He (easily) caved and became what you needed him to be most, your subject in your painting. He’s so awkward when posing! You had to personally move him around a couple of times since he’s made all of the poses you put him in awkward somehow.
Which leaves you to have your hand on your chin, staring at him with a precise gaze, that is the same as his, yet, yours was made to find beauty in hopeless things.
 “Hah…how should I pose you.”
Taking his one hand in yours while your other hand goes to his hood, you gently pull it down, revealing his slightly messy hair. “You hide so much behind this,” you say softly, smoothing a few strands away from his face. 
“I think… maybe something natural,” you mumble, tilting your head to examine him from another angle. You guide him to sit on the chair near the window, where the soft light filters through the curtains. “Lean back, like this,” you murmur, adjusting his shoulders to relax against the chair. “And look out the window… like you’re lost in thought.”
Moze does as you say, his hands gripping the edge of the chair a little too tightly. You shake your head with a small laugh and pry his fingers loose, placing one hand on his lap and letting the other dangle over the side of the chair. “There. Try to look more relaxed.”
He’s honestly trying the best he can, his shoulders less tense and face less serious—even though that’s basically all he knows to do. “Thank you.” You smile gently at him before pecking him on the lips as a thank you, before finally starting at your sketch.
He can’t forget your pretty smile. He helped you. He wishes he had his hood on now.
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if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!
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creatingblackcharacters ¡ 14 hours ago
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Say, if someone were to take a long time (more than months) before speaking up about racism, are they wrong for not immediately addressing it and instead letting the hurt fester? The first time it happened I was questioning my own perception, and by the time I became sure, it feels like it's too late (and it's also been very long after the last time I saw it happen too), and I feel like I also played a part in not immediately speaking up because of fear of the consequences. None of the racism were big enough, but if I were to list every instance then wouldn't it look like I'm being petty and trying to smear campaign someone? Or immature for being avoidant and not communicating my hurt immediately?
I'm going to approach this from an antiblackness perspective, since that's what I talk about here.
I think it depends on a couple of factors. Are you Black? If so, then no, it's not wrong to feel hurt about it no matter how long ago it happened. What you experienced was wrong, and it'll always be wrong. Plus, not wanting to speak up because you know it'll just be a threat to you is a common reason why Black people usually don't speak up about racism. Because yeah, you'll get dogpiled and gaslit and abused when you dare suggest someone was *gasp* bigoted toward you and needs to apologize! There's no statute of limitations on racism, and we shouldn't have to create an entire case to prove ourselves the way we do. That said, if this is a stranger, you will probably not be able to approach on the offensive because you let the time pass. So unless you have receipts, really all you can do is block them and move on with your life, or tell them privately "hey, this thing you said/did wasn't okay. I didn't say anything before because I wasn't sure how you'd take it, but I have not felt as safe around you since then, and I felt you needed to know" (and then probably block them). And you can't expect them to take it well- all you can do is say something, if you choose to at all. And if they take it that poorly, now you have the ability to tell others "yeah, this person did not take hearing about their bigotry well, and is not safe for Black people to be around". Because I would want to know if who I'm sharing from hates me.
If you are not Black, then I want you to consider (using your words) why the racism wasn't "big" enough, especially given that it wasn't dangerous towards you. What do you need to see in order to speak up? And by allowing it to get that large, recognize that you helped create a space where that behavior was safe and acceptable by saying nothing when all the "small" racism was occurring! That said, people are going to take it as petty regardless of your intent, because that's how racism is treated both here and outside the internet. It may be demeaned, treated as a smear campaign, because people think calling out racism is worse than being racist. So it really depends on how much you're willing to stand on it. You saw all these things happen, you have the receipts, you know you're in the right- are you willing to speak up? Are you willing to accept what may happen, or are you more worried about your own comfort? Maybe you'll allow Black people who saw all that racism feel heard and valid, so they can speak up too. Maybe you'll start a conversation that needs to be had. Maybe you'll be a step towards cracking that environment where this racism was acceptable, or worse case scenario, you'll recognize that this isn't a place you want to be if racism is treated so lightly. Those are hard decisions!
Sorry that this probably didn't make you feel better, but it's not a light topic.
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aurawrawr ¡ 15 hours ago
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Who am I to you?
Part 3
King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna x afab reader x twin brother and Kingsguard Yuuji Itadori
Yuuji is eager to be a father. And when it seems to him that he might not be well equipped to fulfill his goal, he seeks help from the only person he knows will do it without a second thought. But someone should have warned him that this (re)union might breed more than a child, something he'd regret for a long time.
Here's Part 1 and Part 2.
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Minors, DNI. WC: 4.9k
CW: smoking, infertility, anger, frustration, feeling humiliated, poisoning, paralysis, heavy drinking, mutual bickering, PIV sex, oral [fem receiving(from tummy tongue)], breast play, breeding, talk about pregnancy and motherhood
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"He wants to see you.”
You have your head in your hands. As if the past two weeks have not been stressful enough, Yuuji has come to you with a request you can't make heads or tails of. You're not even sure you heard him right. Please have a child with Aniki, that's what you believe he said. But that's insane. Does he have no idea what he's asking for?
"What for? Has he agreed to your proposal?" You're shaking. When you said you wanted to see Ryomen, this is not how you thought it would go.
"He wants to know what you want.”
You scoff. "Do you want to know what I want?”
"You want to be a mother, right? Love, we talked about this before we even started trying. If you had disagreed, I'd have never tried to change your mind. And... and..." Yuuji sits down at the edge of the bed. "By the looks of it, I can't give you a child. So the next best... closest option I can give you is my twin brother. It will be just like having a baby with me, you know.”
"Yuuji, the problem could be with me," You try to reason with your husband.
"Do you really believe that? We studied this for so long, went to doctors and asked for their opinion. We know your cycle is healthy. The bleeding always happens on time. Whereas…”
"There is absolutely no indication that there is something wrong with you either. You do so much physical labor, you stay active, and you have no addictions. Hell, you haven't even touched a bottle of sake since we started trying. If anything, the fact that Ryo has been smoking and drinking since he was fifteen should deter you from making the request that you are."
Yuuji sighs. It's time for him to sit with his head in his hands. Just when you start to think you've gotten through to him, he asks, "please can we try this once?”
So you walk across the courtyard, following your husband's shadow, wavering in the light of the lantern he is holding. It's late, late in the night. The palace is silent, so silent you can hear the snores from the servants' rooms, the clacking of shoes as the guards keep watch, the low hum of a chant from Uraume's room and, of course, your own thumping heartbeat. You were so glad to be finally reuniting with Ryo but so torn to be committing the sin you have been scared of ever since you married Yuuji. What was Ryomen thinking? He should have turned Yuuji down in the first place.
"Aniki," Yuuji calls out from the doorstep. "We're here.”
The room reeks of opium, the smell of yearning and being left behind. The four-armed beast that terrorizes the land is sitting at the window, blowing ringlets of smoke into the air outside. His kimono loosely hangs from his shoulders, baring his chest. You don't know how to look at him without giving away all your truth. So you don't look at him; you look around him.
"Come in," he demands.
Yuuji leads you in by the hand, sitting you down on a couch on the floor. The room has changed so much since you saw it the last time you were allowed to come inside to deliver the King's supper. There is a full-size four post bed taking up a lion's share of the room, it's canopy red and black, a tapestry of danger. You sit in silence, observing the two most important men in your life have a conversation about who gets to breed you. This is the most humiliated you've felt in all your life but you want to see how far they're willing to push your boundaries before they realize they're both losing you.
"My love?" Yuuji beckons you back out of your spiraling thoughts. "Aniki wanted to know if you're okay with all this.”
"Tell him I don't care.”
"That settles it, Yuuji. I don't wish to proceed if she's not willing. It'd be—”
"What I mean is..." You grit your teeth. "I don't care as long as it is something Yuuji wants.”
Your husband rushes to you, kneels and looks up at you with teary eyes. "Thank you, my love. Thank you so much. You make my world a better place to live in. I've never and I can never love anyone as much as I love you. Well, maybe the baby. But both of you will be sharing the same spot on my heart." He kisses your hand and you caress the side of his face when he looks at you like you've just picked the moon from the sky to give it to him. He's so precious, you want to do just that.
You feel a somber gaze on you but Ryo is facing elsewhere when you look up. Only the two eyes on his mask are on you and they give away nothing. Not even a speck of emotion. He's back to being the old him, the Ryo you could never figure out.
Yuuji wipes at his runny nose before standing up. "You two have a lot to catch up on. Why don't I leave you to it? We don't want it to be uncomfortable when you know... you two... yeah, I'm going to... okay! See you later, my love.”
You sit in silence, staring at the door that Yuuji shuts behind him. The night is chilly and the open window beside Ryo is not helping in the slightest. What do you have to talk to him about? What can you even say? I've been imagining your face at the heights of my pleasure for the last five years? Too forward. I'm still gonna call you the name I have our entire lives and not refer to you as the Lord or the King? A little offensive.
He clears his throat and sits up. His kimono falls further apart, drawing your eyes to his abdomen. You only wanted to steal a glance but the sight of his gaping belly shakes you to your very core. He starts to say, "I was thinking—”
But you stop him, "Are you hurt?" Your eyes are fixated on his abdomen and you can swear you see something moving.
"Where?" He follows your gaze. "This? It's only a second mouth.”
You look up at his face in horror, finally meeting his eyes. "A second mouth? What happened— you know what, never mind. Just let me know when—”
"No, go ahead." His voice is suddenly so much softer. "Ask me anything.”
You scoff. "You're much agreeable when you know you're about to fuck me, aren't you?”
His eyes grow darker at your challenge. His jaw tightens. "I shall not tolerate being talked to like that anymore. We're no longer just friends. I am your King and you will remember that.”
"Right. Understood... Sukuna-sama." The sound of your heart breaking is so loud, you barely hear his next words anymore.
"Do you agree? Woman?”
"I'm sorry, could you please repeat yourself... my Lord?" Your eyes are downcast now. The water on your lids make them heavy.
Ryomen sighs. "I suggested we lie to Yuuji. And hopefully he'll give this up in a few months when you don't become with child. Do you agree with that?”
"No, I don't. I too want a child, my Lord, and if you care about your brother, you'll give me one.”
𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸
The next time you see Ryo in his chambers, you go alone. In the middle of the night. The palace is busy for the upcoming coronation of their terrifying protector, readying the halls for guests from neighboring kingdoms. Sneaking is not an option so you carry a tea set up the stairs as an excuse to visit the King.
The fusuma slides open just as you're about to knock, revealing a towering Ryomen on the other side. As if, he has been expecting you. You quickly steer your glance and bow to him. "I'm here with your tea, my Lord."
"Come in." He steps out of your way.
The state of the room surprises you. It does not smell of weed or tobacco anymore; in fact, it smells pleasant. Somehow, it looks bigger, cleaner. You set the tray down on the tatami, kneel in front of it, and Ryomen takes up the spot opposite to you. "Why is there only one cup?" He asks, folding two of his arms over his chest while the other two rest on his thighs.
"Oh, I'm sorry, my Lord. Do you require two separate cups?”
"No, woman, where is your cup?”
You chuckle. "I dare not drink tea with my King now. That'd be blasphemous." You keep the smug smile on your face while you swirl the kyĹŤsu and strain the tea into the cup you brought for Ryomen. He picks it up and takes a sip before placing it back on the tray.
"Drink," he orders. You shake your head, feeling a sudden rush of courage. "I said, drink. You dare to defy your King, do you?”
His words make you stop. There's no ill intent in his words, no authority in his tone, just a friendly challenge. So you bring his cup to your lips to take down a big chug. "You're having fun with this, aren't you?" You ask.
"As much as you are." There's a smirk on his lips, like there used to be on your friend, Ryomen's lips.
Nothing happens that night. The tray sits between as you two chat about things like old friends do, the air filled with your chuckles as he teases you for being a missus now, for not treating him after the wedding, for not realizing how quick the passing of time and his absence could change everything.
"Have you been to see her?" You ask, pouring again from the teapot.
Ryo knows what you're talking about. "I have. The crime scene had one name written all over it. Yours. What did you do?" He sounds proud.
"Just this berry and that leaf and that other fruit. I only wanted to make sure she can never use her hand to hit someone close to me ever again.”
Ryo smirks, sipping on his tea before handing the cup to you. "And what about my father?”
"I had nothing to do with Otou-san's death. If anything, I believe it was your half-brother's greed." You sigh. "You see what I've married into?”
He scoffs. "Now now, you keep my little brother out of this. His lamb-like innocence makes up for the dysfunctionality of the rest of my family. I'm sorry. I mean, our family.”
𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸
The morning of the coronation, you wake up to the sound of someone knocking on your door. Your husband climbs off the bed before you can. "I'll see who it is, my love. You stay put." You shuffle out of the sheets anyway, your robes intact.
There's a woman's voice outside. "Sukuna-sama has sent your attires for today. I will be helping the lady with her jĹŤnihitoe."
"JĹŤnihitoe?" Yuuji and you ask at the same time.
"Yes. That is what Sukuna-sama wanted. Is there a problem?"
You shrug at your husband who replies, "umm... no, there's no problem. Please give us some time to freshen up." There's a hum at the door and Yuuji shuts it behind him. He walks up to you as you keep shaking your head. "You know, subtlety is not his strong suit. It'll be fine. Don't worry."
"I'll look like a fish out of water, wearing that in the middle of the servants' rows."
You don't have to sit in the middle of the servants' rows. When Ryo sees you and Yuuji walk out into the yard in your shiny new clothes, he sends Uraume to fetch the two of you close to his makeshift throne. "What are the plans for today?" You ask Uraume as you get as comfortable as possible on the wooden seats.
They huff. "We have the coronation where your mother-in-law will crown Sukuna-sama, who will then appoint the ministers and officially declare Itadori-kun as the Commander of the Kingsguard. Then there's the tourney where the champions from neighboring states have come to compete for a spot on the King of Curses' army. And then there's the feast that will last the rest of the day. You would have known all of that if you didn't lock yourself in your room twenty-four hours a day."
Nothing pleases you more than when they bring in your mother-in-law in a wheelchair, the right side of her body limp from having her tea dosed with high amounts of toxins every day for a year. She can barely speak more than a few syllables without her tongue getting heavy. Your pride bellows in your chest when Ryomen walks down the steps of the dais to get to the center of the yard.
The audience is silent as the beast refuses to bend his knee. The servants help up your mother-in-law, lifting her up on a step as she struggles to hold the crown up in her left hand.
Ryo whispers something you don't hear from afar but you smile when his stepmother is forced to use both her hands to put the crown on his head.
"Aniki is too much at times," Yuuji complains.
"But isn't this so satisfying to watch?"
"That, it is."
The smirk on your face lingers as the proceedings continue. Ryo walks around the yard, naming his ministers even though he just told you the other night that he doesn't need any. He summons Yuji and declares him to be the Commander of the Kingsguard. The crowd doesn't cheer when one brother kneels in front of the other. The crowd doesn't make a peep the whole day; they're there because they don't want to lose their heads or that of their children.
You admire how Ryomen has the whole town under his thumb. The town that wronged you, shunned you and your mother, he's punishing them. You don't know where it is coming from, but there is a sense of accomplishment that you cannot shake off.
He drinks the rest of the day, through the tourney, the declaration of the winner and the evening feast. Every time you see Yuji trying to snatch away his jug from him, Ryo becomes grumpy, demanding his mead be handed back.
To be honest, he doesn't even look drunk. You've seen him inebriated before, in your teenage years. He used to become clumsy and throw things, and curse a lot. But now, he's just... a little grumpy. Maybe his changed physical form has something to do with that.
You're quickly proved wrong. You're talking to some of your colleagues, sitting at the dinner table Uraume assigned to you, when a partially filled jug of ale flies across the room, drenching half the guests. The dinner hall buzzes with commotion, chairs shifting, people questioning, and when you look up toward the direction of the throne, your eyes lock with the King's. He is grumpy because of you.
Only a moment later, Yuuji comes to fetch you. "Aniki is asking for you." His new clothes are flashy, his cloak red like the blood of those he would slay for his brother. He takes your arm in his as he leads you to the throne.
"You wanted to see me, Your Highness?" You bow to the King.
"Yes..h, woman." His words slur. "I am retiring from the party and I wish to dine in my quarters. You will make such arrangements while my brother and I be on our way there."
"Of course, Your Highness."
When you reach the doors of his bedroom, a heavy tray in your hand, you stop to listen in on the conversation between the brothers. "This body was supposed to be a deformity, a curse levied on me for my sins. But I see this as a saturation of strength. What's better than two arms?"
"Four," Yuuji answers. "I agree with you. But I don't understand the mouth on your stomach."
"Actually, this was a gift. It can be used for chanting."
Yuuji hums. "One thing hasn't changed in you. Do you know what that is, Aniki?"
"What?"
"Your massive ego and penchant for showing off." The brothers laugh. "Saturation of strength? Who talks like that?"
You smile as you keep listening. It fills your heart with warmth knowing that the twins have rebuilt their relationship. Still, you can't shake off the feeling of being left behind yet again.
"You're not smoking anymore?"
"No," Ryomen replies. "You assigned me a task, remember? Tobacco and opium might delay or worse, hinder it. Hence—"
Your cheeks start to warm up.
"Alcohol might too," your husband argues. "And yet—"
"Your dinner is here, Your Highness." You put a stop to that conversation as quickly as you can.
Yuuji slides open the door, welcoming you inside. You place the tray on the table in the middle of the room before bowing to the King. Your husband chuckles. "Love, there's nobody around. We don't need to do that here."
He takes your hand and pulls you toward the couch where Ryo is leisurely taking up half the space. Yuuji puts you in his lap, draws you close to his chest as the brothers keep chatting. Your eyes never leave Ryo's. Well, you are not even sure which eyes to follow — the drunk, embarrassed human eyes that fleet between your face and Yuuji's, or the demon eyes frowning at the spot on your arm that Yuuji squeezes every time he adjusts you in his embrace.
The food you brought stays on the table, forgotten and going cold, as the three of you reminisce about your childhood. Yuuji teases you, bringing up how you used to be scared of Ryo when you first arrived at the mansion and still followed him around, touching his arm every now and then, trying to figure him out.
"Shall we get going now?" Yuuji nudges your shoulder with his chin and the demon eyes furrow even further. You nod.
Your husband starts to lead you away when you feel a grip on you, pulling you back. Yuuji turns too when you fall behind. He spots Ryomen's downcast gaze on the spot where the tips of his thumb and first finger meet around your wrist. The shock on Yuuji's face catches your eye but before you can wriggle yourself out of his brother's grasp, he walks back to you and pecks the side of your face. "I'll see you in the morning, my love." And just like that, he is gone.
"You can't be serious." You rebuke Ryomen, yanking your hand away.
"You wanted this." His gaze is still downcast.
You scoff. "Oh, poor Ryomen! It must be so miserable having to fuck a woman. You must have never done that in your whole life."
His eyes flash with frustration. "They were whores."
"And what am I? Asking my husband's brother to fuck me so I can experience motherhood. Am I any different?"
Ryo stands up from the couch and walks toward you, making you take a step back. He's huge now. So much taller and bigger than he was before. You're up against the wall, sandwiched between the wood and his chest. "Ryo, please." You breathe, looking away.
"Do I still scare you, woman?"
You shake your head, refusing to give him the last laugh.
"Even when I look like this?"
Your eyes fly open, meeting his. All four of his eyes are on you, expectant and vulnerable. He needs you. You reach out to touch his face, the human side, and he leans into it like a cat. "Ryo," You call out to him. All your anger melts when he closes all his eyes and relishes in your touch. You place your other hand on his chest, trying to feel the beat of his heart. It's calm, a steady pace. He's at peace in your arms.
"What am I to you?" Ryo asks. For a brief moment, he looks like a boy again, wanting to know if you love him.
"I don't know."
Ryomen smiles wryly before escaping your embrace. He's about to say something but you beat him to it.
"There has not been a single moment in the last five years when you weren't on my mind. I'm cooking and I make it spicier because you prefer it that way. I am sewing and I use your favorite colors. I'm sitting by the pond by myself and I imagine us having a conversation. My husband..." You choke up. "My husband is making love to me and I... I see your face. You... you left me. I played our last conversation over and over in my head, trying to untangle the web of your riddles but I couldn't." You rub off the tears streaming down your face. "You left me here and Yuuji was like my wooden plank in open ocean. I had to... even though it was so wrong... even though —"
Ryo cups your face in two of his hands, pausing your downpour of thoughts. "If I stall any longer, I'll never do it."
Before you can say anything else, his lips find yours. His two lower arms pull you into his body as he kisses you. You knew there will be no tenderness with Ryomen but this passion is abundant and unbound. His big, strong hands squeeze your sides as they run up and down your torso with frenzied lust. You throw your arms around his neck, keeping him close.
He lifts you up in his arms as he keeps kissing you, his mouth hot and demanding, and carries you over to the bed. "Get these off, woman." He pulls at the ties of your top robe. "JĹŤnihitoe was a bad idea"
You chuckle at his child-like impatience. But can you really blame him? You're itching too to touch him, to have him touch you, claim you. Oh it's so wrong! It's so unfair to Yuuji.
But Yuuji is the last thing on your mind right now.
Robe by robe, layer by layer, you come undone to the lover you thought you were never meant to have. Here he is, undressing you, kissing your lips, your cheeks, your neck, and all you can do is... let him.
You can swear you see his jaws drop open once you're completely naked. "Don't stare," You tease, your cheeks burning. "It's not the first time you're seeing a woman."
"They were whores. You are..." Ryo hesitates. "You are you."
"Wow, you're so efficient at communicating what I mean to you." You smirk.
"Stop being bratty, woman." His human eyes are trying their hardest to intimidate you while the demon eyes are too busy ogling your chest to care.
You lie down and Ryo follows beside you. He cradles your head, his fingers nestling in your hair as he kisses you again. Your deft fingers find their way to the sash of his robe, pulling it apart, immediately navigating their way over his skin, around the inhuman mouth.
"Goodness," You yelp when you feel something wet glide past your hand.
"Oh, it has a mind of its own. I can't really control it." Ryo makes an excuse. "But, it seems as though it likes you."
"That was surely a demonstration of affection."
You both laugh, easing up the tension and unfortunately, the built up desire. Ryomen lies down on his back with you on one of his arms. His robe falls apart, exposing his chest. You extend a hand to touch him. Drawing circles through his scanty hair, you pull yourself closer to him.
Before he can say anything, you put your hand over his mouth, still damp from your kiss. "Can you, for once, put yourself before your brother? For me?"
You sit up, flinging one leg over his hips. Ryo runs his fingers over your thighs as you settle yourself. You take two of his hands and guide them to your chest. "You've grown, woman," he groans.
"What does that mean?"
He sits up, pulling you closer so your forehead touches his. "It means, I've craved your breathy moans, the harshness of your nails on my back, the sweet taste of your sweat on my tongue. I used to watch you walk back to the house after your bath, your chest heaving with every step." He kneads your flesh, making you gasp as he softly tugs at a nipple. "In winters, like an old creep, I used to lecherously stare at the pert points on the front of your robe, imagining my hands over them... and my mouth." He snuggles his nose against your jaw and kisses it before venturing southward. Locking his human eyes with you, he opens his mouth wide and closes his lips around your bud.
His tongue sends jolts of sensation down your spine. You grasp at his hair, pushing your teat further into his mouth. Two of his hands grope the soft flesh of your behind, squeeze the fat on your hips, glide over your thighs, before one of his fingers finds the core of your pleasure.
"So wet, woman," he mumbles against your nipple. "Almost like you've been waiting all your life for me."
"I have." Your eyes water as he draws circles around your clitoris, slow, drawn out, painfully patient circles. "You're such a tease, Ryo. Why don't you just... take me?"
"And what's the fun in that? Let me utilize every moment I have with you." He kisses you again. "What if this is all we have?"
The heart that was warm and gleeful, breaks again. You look into Ryomen's eyes, only to find a mirror that reflects your feelings. This time, you kiss him. Fervently. Maniacally. You push his back to the the bed again, slowly sliding down his torso to meet his lips. What you don't expect is a tongue on your clit, the tongue on Ryo's stomach.
You sit up, perplexed at the onslaught of pleasure but unable to lift yourself off of the demonic mouth. Ryo encourages you. "You look so good like that, woman. That's right, grind your hips against my mouth. Your pleasure gives me pleasure. Are you coming?"
You nod, unable to form words anymore.
"Keep going, woman. You're doing so good. Come for me. Come for me."
This orgasm leaves a permanent mark on your psyche and also on Ryo's abdomen. Your nails have gone as far into his skin as they could, drawing blood.
Without a moment of respite, Ryo flips you over on the bed. Your giggling stops when his strong arm pulls your waist up to put a cushion under it. "You wanted me to take you, didn't you?" He rasps, bending over you, so close that his belly mouth springs out and starts picking your back. "Talk to me. Tell me what you want."
"I want you inside me." You finally voice your lewd thoughts. "I want you to give me a child, Ryo. Even if I have to raise it with Yuuji, I want you and myself to know who the father really is."
"Fuck," Ryomen groans.
You cry out as he pushes in, your delicate skin threatening to break around his girth. As soon as you accommodate yourself to his length, he starts rocking his hips. His grip is strong on the plump flesh of your hips as his nails dig in to keep you in place. You can feel him, throbbing, his fat tip pulsating against your womb, ready to breed you on command.
"You feel so good, woman." He's moaning too. Your name on his lips sounds like exactly how it was supposed to be pronounced when your mother named you. His hands are traveling up and down your back, grabbing, squeezing, groping your flesh. "If you so badly want a child... I'll give you one. More. As. Many. As. You. Want." He thrusts with every word until his grip on you tightens to the point of bruises.
You've lost count of how many orgasms you've had but when Ryo comes, you feel fulfilled. You're so filled with his warmth, you don't realize when you collapse on the bed, when Ryo's hand scoops you close to his chest. "You did good, woman. I'm sure this union will be fruitful," he whispers with his mouth to your forehead as you drift to a well-earned sleep.
𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸
There's no God in my heaven. And Hell belongs to me. King of Curses, they call me. And what I have done to earn that title is between me and the sorcerers I killed. For what, then, am I being rewarded?
My Heaven is in my arms, warm and breathing, probably sore in all the places I touched her tonight. How dare I? How dare I ruin her, maim her unfit to ever love her husband again?
Maybe, if everything had gone right, I would have been her husband. And if my human form was not crippled the same way my brother is, she'd have already become a mother by now. I know of her doubts of being the one crippled, but I know she's fertile. I know she's fertile right now. And I hope I've done one thing in all my life to make her dreams come true.
However, it's also so bittersweet. What will happen once she does bear my child? Our little tea meetings will end, I'll never touch her again, never experience both the peace and the excitement of having her fingers run along my skin.
I don't want this to end. I can't let this end. I can't lose her again.
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hadesisqueer ¡ 13 hours ago
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Okay, I'm going to tell you the full context of the particular protagonist of this post so you tell me if this guy is just rightfully complaining because he's sick or if he's being a whiny asshole. His wife is an old family acquaintance that told us this over dinner in Christmas.
Guy had a blocked nose and a headache. He started rightfully complaining about it and his wife asked if he wanted to go to the doctor. He said that no, and when his wife offered some medicine, he refused to take it, saying that "it's not that bad" and he just sat on the couch watching TV. Wife also felt unwell, with a blocked nose and a huge headache as well. So she took some medicine and went to bed to take a nap. Then, barely half an hour later, the husband called her from the living room. She asked what did he want. Guy told her that their kid made a mess trying to pour himself some juice and broke something and there was glass all over the floor. Wife got up from the bed, went downstairs and started cleaning the mess because the option was that or her 5yo son getting hurt while trying to clean it herself while the husband stayed on the couch. Then two minutes later the guy calls from the living room again saying he wanted some warm milk and honey. Wife told him where the milk and the honey were. He said that he didn't feel well and told her to bring it to him. Wife, who's also sick and busy cleaning at that very moment, asks him again "do you wanna go to the doctor?" and he refused. She asked if he wanted some medicine and he, really stubborn, said "no, it's not that bad". Then the wife already fed up tells him "well then if it's not that bad you can either warm your own milk or clean this up" and the guy started whining about how she wasn't being fair to him. So, yeah. The guy is just a whiny asshole when he's sick.
As to how many stubborn guys do I know that whine a lot and become jackasses when they're sick. Well I have a huge ass extended family so unfortunely many dudes. There's people like my cousin's boyfriend who starts absolutely coddling her or their daughter the moment they start feeling bad and there's some others who do really not do anything when their kids or wives feel sick, they just sit around and hope they don't get sick too, and if they do they do expect to get babied and even though when the wife was also feeling unwell he didn't do anything. Generation shift, those guys are all boomers.
A big change is that my dad isn't a jackass when he's sick; my sister is (diversity win: women can be assholes when they're sick too /j). However, when I'm sick, my mom is the one who takes care of me, and when she's sick I'm the one who takes care of her. When we're both unwell at the same time? Good luck. Dad works a lot and my sister is never home.
How many times have people disbelieved my suffering? Very often unfortunely. And mostly by guys, too. Cis men teachers who believed period cramps isn't enough reason for me not to be able to do P.E. that morning and forcing me to run anyway. Doctors who thought the reason I felt sick was my period without even checking anything and then it turned out I had the stomach flu. Me not even complaining about anything at all but looking off and being asked what's wrong and I say "migraine" or "my bad ankle hurts today" and this man whining saying that I always have something. You're damn right men deserve to complain if they're sick but there's a difference between complaining and like you very well said being a jackass, and that guy and many other guys I know are jackasses. And you're damn right I deserve being able to complain, too. I do and I don't care if people think I'm faking it. I'm just not a jackass.
Is there any creature weaker and that whines more in this world than an adult man who's mildly sick
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okaysonny ¡ 21 hours ago
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the one where they lose yenna ╎ zack + johan
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❤️ @always-lovingly — hope you like it!
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ᯓ★ summary: eli bestows zack with the greatest honour: babysitting yenna. nothing will go wrong, right?
ᯓ★ details: fluff, no reader, spoilers for 517 onwards, canon dynamics. (aka zack and johan's relationship is platonic)
ᯓ★ wc: 3.4k - on the longer side...sorry
ᯓ★ A/N: I HATED MAKING THIS!!! comedy is really hard to write + i feel like i waffled too much... made a post about it, but this fic is drawn from s2, ep6 of friends (the one with the baby on the bus)
how did they get ben back with no paperwork/confirmation? idk but it makes my job easier #yes
divider: @thecutestgrotto
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"what? you want me to look after zami tomorrow?"
"…her name is yenna" eli smiles at him sheepishly. "and yes. i have to unexpectedly work at the fruit stall. derek got a stomach bug and there's no one to cover for him. plus, the daycares closed on saturdays. would you mind?"
"…eli…i can't believe this…"
of course. eli should've expected this. what eighteen year old wants to spend their saturday babysitting?
"sorry zack. don't worry about it. i'll get someone else to— "
"i can't believe you're trusting me to babysit zam— i mean yenna!" a beam of light is practically shining on him.
eli blinks. he swears he can see zack's eyes well up.
"do you really trust me to? you really think i'm worthy?!"
well, he wasn't expecting that. eli laughs softly, shaking his head. "well…you visit her a lot and you're really great with her. i think you'd do a good job"
zack covers his mouth, trying not to cry in front of the beauty department's only guy. he does visit yenna a lot. how can he not? the fact that the baby he found happened to be eli's daughter…it felt like fate.
he coughs into his hand, composing himself, before looking at eli with determination - the determination of being the best babysitter in the world. "…it would be my honour"
eli smiles softly. he was hesitant in entrusting yenna with someone who misnames her half the time. but now, he doesn't regret it one bit.
"…thanks, zack"
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"oh…you really came prepared, huh?"
zack has come prepared. he still owns that baby carrier from before. he also wears something without buttons this time. and he still uses gel, but not too much gel, because the spikes could stab her.
"of course!" he nods enthusiastically. "only the best for zam— yenna! mesh ventilation to ensure maximum comfort!"
eli can't help but chuckle. "that's…very nice of you"
with one hand, eli hands zack a list of instructions and a bag of supplies. his other hand is holding yenna, as adorable as she always is.
"…if anything happens, call me. i'll try make it back as soon as possible" he hesitantly hands yenna over, her little hands grabbing at zack's face.
"ba!" she squeals.
his eyes light up. "zam— yenna!" he cradles her head gently. "don't worry, eli ! she's safe with me!"
he nods, exhaling slowly. he reaches out to stroke her hair fondly. "you have a good time with uncle zack, okay? i'll be back before you know it" he whispers.
eli steps back, checking the time on his phone. "shoot, i need to go. you'll be fine, right?"
zack grins, using yenna's hand to give him a little wave. "yes, yes. go and chop fruit or whatever"
eli waves back and zack watches as his figure slowly gets smaller. he looks down at her, speaking with conviction.
"alright, zami. uncle zack will give you the best day of your life"
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"what the hell, man? why'd you bring a baby here?"
okay, so saturday just happened to coincide with his study session. but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make.
zack hastily covers her ears. "don't swear in front of yenna! this is eli's daughter, y'know?! i'm an uncle on babysitting duty"
johan looks down at yenna with a mix of contempt and confusion, her big eyes staring back at him.
"ba?"
she's holding a baton with the top of a toy wand attached to it. his brows furrow, remembering his fight with eli.
Are you messing with me? What's with the toy?
whoops. in his defense, how was he meant to know?
johan sighs in exasperation and closes his book. "we're not getting anything done if she's here. by the way, don't expect me to help, alright? you're on your own"
"hmph. yenna doesn't want to hear your obscenities anyway" he pats her head protectively.
he rolls his eyes. "yeah, okay"
yenna suddenly starts smacking her baton-wand against the edge of the table, the smile never leaving her face.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
zack stares at the wand, already dented from her relentless attack on the furniture.
"alright yenna, that's enough of that" he says nervously, gently prying it out of her hand. she immediately starts to fuss, her big eyes tearing up.
johan glares at him. "nice job, genius. now she's going to cry"
"hush!" zack snaps. he waves the wand awkwardly in front of yenna’s face. "see, yenna? it's all better!"
yenna, unimpressed, lets out a wail that could rival a siren.
johan groans and presses his fingers to his temples. "you need to get something to keep her quiet. a softer toy maybe"
zack perks up at the suggestion. "hey, we should go to the city! we can grab something real quick!"
"we?"
"yes, we. you're not sitting on your ass while i do this alone" he grumbles.
johan stares at him in disbelief, but yenna’s cries grow louder, and he visibly gives in. “fine. but if she screams on the bus, i'm out”
zack grins, already packing up. he turns to yenna with a cheerful voice. "alright princess, let’s go find you the perfect toy!"
"...gross"
"you're gross" he mumbles, as they make their way to the bus stop.
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zack awkwardly adjusts the baby carrier strapped to his chest, yenna wriggling furiously against him.
“why is she squirming so much?” johan asks, sitting in the seat across from him, his arms folded.
“she’s probably uncomfortable” zack shifts the straps again. yenna lets out an irritated whine, kicking her tiny feet against his stomach. “c’mon, work with me here…”
johan leans back. “maybe she can sense you have no idea what you’re doing”
“real helpful, johan. you wanna take over?” he glares at him while holding the carrier steady.
“pass”
“yeah, that’s what i thought” zack adjusts the carrier again, but yenna’s whining only gets louder. people start glancing over, their expressions ranging from amused to annoyed.
“okay, okay. hang on” he sighs in defeat, unbuckling the straps, gently lifting yenna out of the carrier and onto his lap.
“so now you’re happy, huh?” zack mutters. yenna’s only response is a delighted giggle as she smacks his knee with her baton-wand.
“you’re spoiling her” johan comments, deadpan.
“what do you know about babies, johan?”
he shrugs. "if you say so"
yenna, meanwhile, starts squirming again, clearly eager to explore her surroundings.
“you wanna stretch those tiny legs?” zack carefully sets her down on the floor of the bus. she stands unsteadily for a moment, then takes a few steps, laughing as she bangs her toy against the metal pole by their seats.
“...are you seriously letting her walk around here?”
“she needs some freedom!” zack defends himself, his eyes flicking between yenna and johan. "she's only a baby, it’s not like she’s gonna go far"
“...right”
“calm down. i'm watching her!” zack beams confidently, leaning back in his seat while keeping one eye on yenna.
for a moment, the two of them sit in silence, the bus rumbling along as she continues her wobbly exploration of the aisle.
“...y’know, you’re pretty calm for someone who's scared of babies”
johan shoots him a glare. “i’m not scared of babies”
“you totally are! the look on your face when she said ‘ba’ was priceless”
johan’s eyes narrow. “keep talking and i’ll make you ‘ba’ yourself”
they continue bickering, their voices overlapping as yenna toddles around the aisle, occasionally smacking the bus poles with her baton-wand.
the bus screeches to a halt at their stop. zack stands up, slinging the bag full of baby supplies over his shoulder. "alright, this is us"
johan follows closely behind as they get off, stepping onto the bustling city street. the sound of car horns and chatter fill the air, and zack immediately starts scanning the area.
“so” johan drawls, looking around. “what exactly are we looking for? a squeaky duck? a magic wand that doesn’t double as a weapon?”
“something soft, like you said” zack adjusts the straps of the carrier on his shoulder. "i never want to hear that banging noise again"
johan opens his mouth to speak, but pauses. his eyes flick down, then back up to zack, his face suddenly paling.
“...zack?” his voice is unusually tense.
“what?” zack asks distractedly, glancing around for a toy store.
johan's face is laced with panic.
“where’s the baby?”
“what are you talking about? she’s right—”
but she isn't. he glances down at the empty carrier on his shoulders, his voice catching in his throat.
we left her on the bus.
"johan, you rat!" zack snarls. "how could you forget about our child?"
"how the fuck is this my fault? you’re the one babysitting her!" johan snarls back. "and what do you mean our child?"
the argument attracts curious stares from passerby.
zack waves his hand dismissively, his movements frantic. "who cares?!" he yells, sprinting off. "we need to catch that fucking bus!"
zack hears johan groan, but his footsteps quickly follow after, the bus luckily still in sight as it makes a turn.
"it's fine!" zack pants. "we just need to alert the bus driver and it'll be fine!"
they turn around the corner, but stop in their tracks.
they're both flabbergasted as it's joined by two other identical buses on their route, the traffic blocking the vehicles out of sight regardless. something out of a 90's sitcom.
zack's lip begins to tremble. he's a dead man. will he die without knowing mira's touch?
he aggressively shakes his fist at the sky. "OH COMPASSIONATE BUDDHA!!! why have you forsaken me?"
"...what the fuck? relax. let's just..." johan pants, trying to catch his breath. "let's just think, okay? there's gotta be a way to fix this"
they both stand in contemplation.
they can fix this, right?
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"thank you! please come again~" eli hands over the bag of fruit cheerfully, waving the customer goodbye.
his smile falters.
strange. he suddenly has a weird feeling.
he shakes his head, shrugging it off. it's probably nothing, he says to himself.
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"the transit authority!" zack exclaims, an imaginary light bulb appearing on his head. "the bus drivers' hand all lost property to them. we just need to call and let them know we left a baby! she has to be with them! no idiot would leave a baby on the bus!"
johan nods, both of them blissfully unaware of the irony. "i was gonna say that"
zack scoffs. "sure you were. now, all we need to do is—"
zack's phone rings. he looks at the screen, his eyes widening in horror.
"i-it's eli" he stammers.
a smile tugs on johan's lips, slightly amused. he gestures to the phone. "answer it. it's gonna look suspicious if you don't"
zack glares at him, but doesn't argue. he breathes out slowly before accepting it.
"eli !" his voice is incredibly high pitched. "what's up? shouldn't you be chopping lemons or something?"
"i'm on my break" he laughs. "i just wanted to check in. is everything okay, zack?"
"everything's fine!" he chirps. "me and yenna are having a great time!"
"...that's good. would you mind putting her on the phone? i want to hear her voice" he says gently.
fuck.
johan smirks, not even trying to hide it anymore, watching zack in anticipation.
zack closes his eyes, pausing.
he does the only thing that comes to mind, shoving the phone near johan's mouth. the latter's face drops.
what the hell are you doing? he mouths.
zack covers the phone so eli can't hear.
"act like a baby" he hisses.
"over my dead body"
"just do it, you hobo! or i'll tell your mom you failed english again" he glares.
"...you wouldn't"
"wanna find out?"
"um...zack?" eli speaks up again. "what's going on? is she—"
"...goo goo?" johan squeaks, removing zack's hand from the speaker.
zack winces. he's heard better acting in porn.
radio silence.
"is she okay? she sounds a bit—"
"i think she needs a diaper change! bye eli !" he hangs up quickly.
johan stares daggers at him, his cheeks slightly flushed. "i'm gonna beat your ass"
zack shrugs, googling the number for the transit authority. "you can beat my ass after we find zami"
"...i thought her name was yenna?"
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the human resources department is a picture of monotony, the ticking of the clock being the loudest sound in the room. the clerk behind the desk often jokes to himself that he lives in a time loop. every day was the same — forms to file, complaints to process, and the occasional awkward phone call. nothing ever changes, and he's stopped expecting it to.
until today.
the phone on his desk buzzes, cutting through the endless drone of routine.
“transit authority here” the caller begins briskly. “we’ve got a...situation. someone called claiming they left a baby on one of our buses”
the man blinks, the pen in his hand frozen mid-air. “a baby?”
“yeah. a little girl. we’ve got her safe now, but we’re bringing her over to your department, since...you know, you handle these things” the voice sounds exasperated, as if they can’t believe they're saying this either.
he swivels slightly in his chair, still trying to process the information. “so, wait. someone just...left their baby on the bus?”
“that’s what we’ve been told” the caller says with an audible sigh. “the guy on the phone sounded panicked. i told him to go to your building”
"...what kind of idiot leaves their baby on a bus?"
“i’m asking myself the same question”
hanging up the phone, the clerk leans back in his chair, shaking his head in disbelief.
this is new.
he glances at the clock, bracing himself for what kind of man would walk through the door.
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or men, he should say.
the door to the department bursts open, startling the clerk so badly he nearly knocks over his coffee. his head snaps up, expecting one man, but instead, there were two.
they both look like they just sprinted a marathon. the first, a broad shouldered guy with a baby carrier strapped awkwardly across his chest, is hunched over, gasping for air. his face bore the genuine panic of someone who just lost something irreplaceable.
the second young man follows behind him, his sharp eyes darting around the room, like he’d rather be anywhere else.
the clerk stares at them, dumbfounded, as they both stand there panting. finally, he clears his throat, glancing at the baby carrier. “so… i’m guessing you’re here for the baby?”
"y-yes! the baby...we called about the baby! is she here?" zack heaves.
"...she's here"
zack and johan sigh in relief.
"is one of you the father?"
zack rubs his neck shyly. "ah...well no, but we know her very well. can we collect her?"
the older man crosses his arms. "if neither of you are, you'll need to call one of her parents, so we can confirm guardianship"
fuck.
zack looks at johan in wordless communication. it'll be awkward. it'll be difficult. but they both know what they have to do.
"w-what i meant to say was..." zack slowly wraps an arm around johan's shoulder, cursing his sudden high pitched voice. "we're actually both the fathers"
zack leans his head against johan's, trying to control his trembling lip as he smiles sweetly.
the clerk presses his own lips into a thin line, not looking convinced.
johan sighs and briefly scrunches his nose before laying his hand on top of zack's, leaning into his touch. his smile is incredibly fake and plastered. he's afraid he'll commit murder otherwise.
"mhm..." johan manages to croak out.
radio silence.
if the clerk doesn't believe them, it seems he doesn't care enough to press further. he shrugs, gesturing to the door at the back. "alright. right this way—"
that's all they need to hear before they bolt to the door, flinging it open.
yenna is sitting on a small cot, gripping her beloved baton-wand in one hand. she’s completely unbothered, her big eyes scanning the room with innocent curiosity. she gives the wand a few lazy taps against the cot, unaware of the trouble they had to go through.
the moment zack spots her, he rushes over, scooping her up without hesitation. “yenna! we’re so sorry! your uncles are so sorry” he says, his voice filled with guilt. he hugs her tightly, rocking her gently. “uncle zack won't let this happen again, okay? never, ever”
standing just behind him, johan watches silently. "...you’re so ridiculous" he mutters. but zack knows he doesn't mean it. he knows him too well to not spot the softness in his voice.
he doesn’t look back, too wrapped up in stroking yenna's back. "couldn't care less, mommy's boy"
as zack shifts yenna in his arms, her tiny hand stretches out behind him, her fingers reaching for johan. johan hesitates for a moment, glancing down at her outstretched hand, before gently taking her little fingers in his big ones. the room is quiet, the world around them seeming to pause.
johan’s lips curve into a small, genuine smile, one he doesn’t realise he’s wearing. he gently plays with her fingers, a silent exchange passing between them.
zack glances over his shoulder and freezes when he spots it.
a slow grin spreads across his face. “i knew it!” he blurts out, triumphant. “i knew you secretly felt the same way!”
johan's ears turn faintly pink but he doesn't let go of yenna’s hand. “...shut up”
zack snickers. “you don’t fool me anymore! everyone knows you’re actually a big softie”
johan grits his teeth, his grip not leaving her fingers. "whatever, man"
they don't see the clerk silently watching them through the door, his hand hovering over its knob.
he did think they were lying. they were way too jittery to be convincing.
but the sight of the scene made him stop. the broader one, cradling the baby so protectively and murmuring apologies with a guilt-stricken face.
the other, quieter one, gently holding the baby’s hand with a softness that doesn’t match his standoffish appearance.
it’s a moment so tender, so raw, that the clerk pauses, his hand lowering from the door knob. maybe he was being too narrow-minded.
he shakes his head with a bemused smile and turns away, leaving them to their privacy. as he walks back to his desk, he mutters to himself.
"what a progressive world we live in"
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after parting ways with johan, who pats yenna's head for a little too long, he sits on a bench, waiting for eli's return.
"okay zami. you had a good time with uncle zack and uncle johan, alright? nothing crazy happened"
"ba!" she chirps back, as if she understands.
zack nods solemnly. "good"
"zack! hey!"
he sees eli walk over, sally with him.
zack spots eli's jaw tense a little less as he sees yenna safe and sound. she instantly reaches out, squealing at the sight of him.
"there you are..." eli beams, gently carrying her. "did you have a good time with uncle zack?" he says softly.
yenna aggresively shakes the wand in response.
he laughs and then looks up at zack. "so, how was it? did she give you much trouble?"
he waves a hand dismissively. "of course not! cool as a breeze. no problems at all"
"wow" sally grins. "eli, you should have him babysit more often!"
eli smiles, his gaze shifting back to yenna. "yeah...thanks a lot zack. i was worried because you hung up suddenly...i guess i was just being paranoid"
i'm off the hook! zack tries not to appear too excited.
he sighs, looking pleased with himself. "psh. don't worry. just had to focus all my attention on her. i'd never leave her out of my sight"
he nods, removing some lint from her clothes. "yeah, i get it. seriously, thanks a—"
he pauses, his smile suddenly dropping.
"hey zack?"
"...yes?" he looks up in anticipation.
is he gonna promote me as official babysitter?
eli turns yenna around, lifting her dress up slightly to reveal a big, bold PROPERTY OF HUMAN SERVICES stamp.
"what's this?" he asks, his voice a little too sweet.
zack's face drops. he can feel comical sweat beads appearing on his forehead.
"w-well that's uh..." he begins, but the words don't form.
eli silently hands yenna to sally, the grin now wiped clean from her face, being replaced with awkwardness instead.
eli smiles at him as he walks closer, pulling his sleeves up and cracking his knuckles.
"sally? please cover her eyes" he says quietly, his stare never leaving zack.
"wait eli !" he splutters. "let's just talk about this! it was—"
PUNCH
"owww! fuck! okay fine! just watch the hair—"
PUNCH
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A/N: posted this on boxing day because zack is a BOXER 💜
48 notes ¡ View notes
possibilistfanfiction ¡ 2 days ago
Note
arcane prompt "hospital"?
[jinx deserves the world, also it's nice to let cait use her girlboss disposition for good sometimes, yknow. ao3 here.]
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you hand caitlyn a cup of black tea she probably thinks is beyond shitty; it's all they had at the cart in the courtyard, and you still have no idea how to make proper tea anyway. still, she smiles — small, and residually scared, but genuine — in thanks. she's been crying, you can tell: her eyes are red-rimmed and the sweater of vi's she'd thrown on in the middle of the night is rumpled around the sleeves, like she'd used them to wipe her tears.
'she's going to be okay, right?' you look at vi's still, bruised form in the bed. 'they didn't, like, tell you really bad news while i was gone or something.'
caitlyn steadies herself. 'no,' she assures you. 'she's going to be just fine.'
'okay,' you say, and you trust her because she loves vi and because she's a doctor, and mostly because at this point caitlyn wouldn't lie to you. you scoot your chair forward and lace your fingers together with vi's hand, the one without an iv taped into it, and squeeze gently, just a hello. the doctors had explained that she's on a lot of medicine to keep her comfortable, plus the anesthesia from her surgery, so she's not going to wake up until midday at the earliest. but just in case she can feel you, you want her to know that you're there. you remember coming out of the worst sedations, medication that was wrong for you or just way too high a dose, to vi slumped next to your bedside, her big, strong hand steadfast around yours. 'did you see her x-rays or medical history or something?'
'i didn't intend to,' she says in way of an answer.
'ah.' you fiddle with vi's fingers. 'gnarly, huh?'
she puts her tea down on the small table near the bed and runs a hand through her hair before she scrapes it up into a messy ponytail. 'i knew, in theory,' she says. 'we've talked about things, of course. i'm able to help take care of when her chronic back pain flares, and how she really should have a surgical repair on her bad shoulder. but, i just, well. i suppose i comprehend the breadth of it now, more completely at least, the details in a way i can understand.'
you don't know; you don't ever want to know, not like that. vi still has nightmares about prison, still doesn't eat enough sometimes, still refuses heating pads and advil sometimes after a hard shift. 'yeah.'
'and i suppose, too, that it's hard to know how much she's hurt, even if it's so much less bad now.' she shrugs, helpless, and looks at you. 'i just love her.'
it had been terrifying, to get a call in the middle of the night from the fire department: vi had been in a building when it collapsed, and she was hurt and it was, potentially, very bad. you're not sure who they'd called first — you or caitlyn — but she'd texted you a minute after and offered to pick you up so you could both wait at the hospital while vi was in surgery. it had taken two hours before her dad came out and explained that vi had some internal injuries that still needed more fixing in surgery, as well as a few bruises and scrapes, but she would recover fully with time.
'you should move in with each other,' you say.
caitlyn pauses for a few moments, but then she lets out a quiet laugh. 'how long have you been holding that in?'
you shrug. 'you guys have been together for two years. i know vi wants to.' you don't mention that you hack into caitlyn's person email on occasion, just because you like to be nosey; you don't mention that you'd seen her and vi send property listings back and forth the last few months. 'i know she hasn't said anything to me because she doesn't want to upset me, or make me think like she's choosing you over me, or whatever.'
caitlyn considers it calmly. 'she would never do that, you know.'
'yeah.' you do; it's the thing you know most in the world. 'i also know that she's scared that if she doesn't help me at much, i'll have another episode.'
that, caitlyn has no response to.
'i've talked about this a lot in therapy.' you squeeze vi's hand, just in case she's listening too. 'at first i couldn't manage any of it without her, for sure.'
vi had spent her first month out of prison visiting you in your tent in the scariest part of town, not pushing, just bringing you food and warm clothes, comfortable blankets; she'd sit with you for hours if you'd let her, even if most of the time you talked to voices only you could hear and saw things she never would. finally, you agreed to go to the hospital with her, and from there it was more months of getting clean, and trying different medications, and really lame group therapy, and coming to terms with your diagnosis. vi was there as often as she could be, clean-cut for once while she went through the fire academy. you don't remember many details, but when you'd finally gotten released, she'd brought you to this small, rundown one bedroom apartment that she'd made as nice as she could. the first night you were home, she fell asleep in bed next to you in less than a minute, a few tears on her cheeks, seemingly of their own accord. it's always been a measure of love you'll always be a little in awe of.
'but, like, i remember my meds on my own now. i have a system.'
caitlyn's smile is honest-to-god proud. 'that's no small feat.'
you try to act nonchalant, but she's right: most of your medications have side effects that require other medications to off-set, and it's a nightmare if you don't coordinate them properly. 'and, like, my graduate program is going well, and i have friends, and i like climbing. i feel, not good, i guess. maybe i'll never feel good. but i feel real, and most of the time the world feels real too.'
caitlyn lays her hand on top of yours, and vi's.
'anyway,' you say, clearing your throat so you don't cry. you run your free hand through your hair, grown out some now after your "interesting decision," as vi had said, last year during a meltdown. 'vi can move out, and ekko can move in to our apartment. he's —' your boyfriend? your best friend? your favorite person, other than vi?
caitlyn smiles gently. 'he is.'
'he knows what to do, if i need help.'
'and i know you want to live with vi, and i know she wants to live with you.' even though you invade their privacy by checking emails, you'd never spill the beans that they've both individually been looking at rings. 'i can manage, without her there as much. i don't think either of us ever thought that would be our reality, which is why vi hasn't brought it up. i know she's still scared, probably forever. it was scary.' you take a big breath and then let it out; when you'd first gotten your diagnosis, it seemed like you would never get to be a full, independent person, and then it would be a death sentence. 'but i want to try. i can try.'
caitlyn squeezes your hand, and vi's too. 'i believe you will do wonderfully, in both my professional and personal opinion.'
'oh. really?'
she nods. 'you haven't had a full blown episode in over a year. i see you manage your days, and your impulses. clinically, you're actually a great patient. personally, you're a pain in the ass sometimes, but not because you're unwell.'
'just because of my stunning charm and incredible sense of humor? my flair for the dramatic?'
'something like that, sure.'
you laugh. 'thank you, so so much.'
she rolls her eyes but she's still fond of you, especially in the early morning light. vi's eyes are both bruised blue, but caitlyn had told you that surgeons had finally fixed her broken nose after it broke again this time: you're pretty sure vi hasn't been able to breathe properly since she was, like, twelve. at the very least she'll snore less, so a win for all of you. 'we found a house we want to put an offer in on,' she admits.
'yeah?'
she nods. 'it's not too far from your place, and it's right on the park.'
you scoff, just for posterity. 'fancy.'
she's unfazed by this point. 'we — well, vi was going to tell you, but i know it's fine if i do. we know you and ekko want to keep your current place, and i'd actually like to sit down with both of you and see if there's any way i can assist with your rent or other budgetary items.'
you're definitely, 100% about to cry, all of a sudden.
'she is so proud of you, for even being able to consider pursuing increased independence.'
you sniffle.
'but, the brownstone we're looking at also has a fully finished basement, with a bedroom and a small living area, its own bathroom. we've planned for it to be your space, whenever you want it, for any reason, for however long you'd like to stay. a night, a year. you will always have a home with violet, which means you will always have a home with me too.'
you have to do your deep breathing: sometimes kindness, especially given freely, is what makes the world slide most off-kilter. there are always voices telling you that you don't deserve good things, that caitlyn, and vi, and ekko, and vander, and even caitlyn's parents, when you go over to their giant ass mansion for celebratory dinners or parties, are lying to you. but you put your head down against your joined hands and count to ten, whisper it aloud, and then sit back up. caitlyn is waiting patiently.
'how big is the house?'
she laughs, heartily, and pulls out her phone to show you pictures and specifications. it's beautiful — not that you'd ever expect less of caitlyn kirammen — but she also tells you the plans she has to decorate, and your chest aches with a happiness so tinged with grief when she casually explains things vi wants in each room too. it's a life you never dreamed you'd get to have, and you know vi has probably been having total menty-b's about all of this, but she deserves a home more than anyone you've ever met.
'it's fine, i guess,' you say, after caitlyn finishes showing you their plans for the patio and yard.
caitlyn laughs. 'up to your standards?'
'could use more neon.'
'keep it confined to the basement, and you've got a deal.'
'ugh.'
'the only request i have is that you not blow it up.'
you pretend to contemplate. 'that's reasonable, i guess.' you look around at all the monitors proclaiming your big sister's strong heart and lungs and brain, despite it all. 'vi's gonna be so relieved that we don't have to have a heart to heart when she wakes up.'
caitlyn looks at the still planes of vi's face adoringly. disgusting, still. 'she'll be difficult enough as it stands, i'm sure.'
'total pain in the ass.'
////
you spend the first night after vi moves out in your apartment with ekko, and you fall asleep with your head tucked into his chest, safe still, even now. that weekend, you haul a duffle bag of your stuff — clothes, toiletries, a quarter of your lab, a few cans of spray paint — to vi and caitlyn's new house. neither of them are home yet, vi stuck grumpily on desk duty for the evening and caitlyn's meeting running over.
but your key turns in the lock, and your favorite snacks are stocked in the pantry. eventually, they both get home, and they're happy to see you, and caitlyn laughs at the improvements you've already done to the walls of the basement. vi ruffles your hair and you bully both of them into ordering tacos like you want, even though they have plenty of things you could cook at home. caitlyn is polite enough to let you curl up with vi on the couch, just for tonight, and you fall asleep, safe and warm, there too.
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serraphinna ¡ 2 days ago
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"Just once, in case I lose you..."
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Synopsis; It took the two of you almost dying for Aki to realise what he wants. (spoiler warning, it's you.)
Pairing; Aki Hayakawa x fem!reader
Content warnings; fem!reader, smut, vaginal penetration, fingering, slight hair pulling (?), semi unrealistic sex, unprotected sex
A/N;  writing got lazy towards the end, literally forced myself to finish this. ( ;´ - `;) but in celebration of the movie coming out, here’s this sexy man.
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Aki doesn’t think he’s ever had such a shitty mission before. 
He’s not sure what went wrong, maybe he was tired, more slow than usual. Maybe you and him just weren’t a good pair to fight that devil. Nonetheless, it’s over now—clothes torn and bloodied and bodies covered in scrapes, bruises and sweat but alive.
The drive back home is quiet, Aki shifting in the driver’s seat while you're looking out the window, both of you lost in thought. It was close, so close, the adrenaline still coursing through him, though subdued. The thrill of it all is almost gone, leaving a somber feeling. He wonders what he would’ve left behind. Dying before fulfilling his revenge, just the thought makes his mouth taste bitter.
But then his eyes drift to you, fingers tightening around the wheel ever so slightly. Beside the quiet and their thoughts, there’s something else too. A tension, always lingering in the back of his mind, charged but ignored. But after all that, after almost losing you, feeling his heart sink at every close call, it’s boiling all the way to the surface.
Aki reminds himself to focus on driving, eyes reluctantly moving from your form to stare at the road instead. The buildings mostly have their lights on, leaving just the street lights that seem to make his vision hazy. He finally affords you just one more look, convinces himself it’s to quickly check how many injuries you have and you glance at him as well, your eyes meeting for a moment.
That’s all it takes for him to know what he should do, his fingers once again curling around the steering wheel before suddenly making a turn to haphazardly park in a semi secluded parking lot, pushing his seat back.
“Come here.” 
Is all he says before he’s less than gracefully helping you get on top of him, a few muffled curses, a wince from him, a soft “sorry” from you but finally, you’re straddling his lap and finally, he’s got his hands on you.
“I can’t believe I waited so long,” Aki begins, lips against yours before the two of you can really say anything else, tugging needily but not roughly. His hands fumble with your shirt, rucking it up to splay his fingers on the skin on your side. He breaks the kiss as your weight settles on him, hips bucking up against the pressure.
You’re overwhelming his senses—your warmth, your scent, the softness of your body. One of his hands moves down your side, over your hip and hooks behind your knee to tug, adjust your angle like he needs you even closer. Aki’s nose buries against the crook of your neck, earning a breathy giggle. “That tickles..” you mumble and he smirks against you before pressing a gentle kiss on your skin. “Yeah?” He teases softly, rolling his hips up against you, letting you feel every hard inch of his need for you.
“Aki..” you half sigh, his lips trailing kisses down your throat, humming in approval at the way you squirm. “I need you,”  Aki says, pulling you impossibly closer. “every single day. Let me have you, please. Before.. you know. ” he breathes over your neck and you shudder, nodding. 
“Mhm..” you finally hum, your hands on his shoulders before you’re fumbling with his tie, your ass pressed against his crotch just right. Both of your bodies are aching, but the need overpowers whatever pain would make you wince normally. Aki helps you tug his jacket off, tie loose before he’s impatiently unbuttoning your blouse, tossing it aside with little to no grace.
“You feel that?” he huffs against your lips, kissing you like a starving man. “Mm..” you hum against his lips, pressing down on his erection to let him know that *yes*. You feel it. His hands caress your sides, so gently it makes you dizzy. Then he’s unclasping your bra, one hand moving to your lower back while the other cups your breast, cold thumb circling and teasing your nipple to erect. His lips trail down your jaw to give attention to your second nipple, gently suckling, hot tongue swirling and pressing teeth grazing against the sensitive bud until it’s almost painfully erect, a thin string of saliva breaking when he pulls back and you can feel your core throb at the mere sight.
Fuckkk… he feels so hard, cock straining against his pants and poking at yourass. But he’s not done, he still wants to touch you, see more of you. The hand on your lower back trails up your spine, your nape and then his fingers tangle into your hair to tilt your head to the side before his lips are back on your neck, this time sucking, biting, desperate to leave some kind of mark. “Hn..” you shift, your hands on his upper back, your own fingers moving to tug on his hair, earning a groan from Aki’s lips. He soothes the hickey with a kiss, trailing his lips down to leave one on your breasts until he feels satisfied enough, a low hum escaping his throat.
You on the other hand are frustrated, impatient to have him touch you properly. “Aki,” you half whine, tugging on his locks ever so slightly and he simply smirks, pressing a teasing kiss on the corner of your mouth. “I know. He simply says, hands now on your hips and lips against yours before you can open your mouth again. “Mmhnm..” you whimper against his lips, his fingers hooking and pulling your pants down, helping you kick them off before you’re settling back down on him. He lets his fingers splay across your thigh, squeezing before he pries them just slightly more apart.
“Hurry already,” you can’t help but complain and he gives you this half endeared, half exasperated look that seems to scream ‘what do you think i’m doing?’ but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he lets his index and middle finger hook on your underwear, thumb brushing against your hip before he drags the already damp fabric down, his eyes locking in on your dripping pussy like waving meat in front of a starving animal. You look beautiful. Breathtakingly so—but he’s not the sentimental type, so instead of saying that, he sucks in a breath, fingers gliding over your wet slit.
“Nnh..” your juices coat his fingers, entrance throbbing each time his digits brush against your clit. You’re soaking, so much so he doesn’t need to use spit as a lubricant, instead he gathers up your juices before lathering it over your folds, index and middle finger gliding in between before he spreads them apart, your hole throbbing. Your hips buck against his palm, a satisfied sigh leaving your lips when his middle finger finally slides in. Your spongy walls hug him instantly, sloppy, warm, tightening before relaxing. He gives a few strokes, working you open enough to slide his index finger in as well, fingers curling and scissoring. You moan, grabbing his wrist out of instinct, your face burying itself into his shoulder, fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt at his chest.
Just as your core tightens, he pulls his fingers out, earning a disappointed noise from your lips he can’t help but find cute. Aki’s hands quickly move to fumble with his belt, shoving his pants and boxers down just enough to let his cock spring free, painfully hard and throbbing. A quiet gasp escapes your lips, hands finding their way onto his shoulders and hips instinctively bucking upwards to help him align the angry tip of his cock against your pussy. You let out a barely audible sound, hole throbbing as if trying to suck him in while he pushes upwards just to pull back a few times. He’s grabbing your thighs, spreading them even further, lips tickling the side of your face. “I want it,” you begin, impatiently wriggling. 
Finally, Aki’s hand finds it’s way onto your hip to push—helping you sink down. You let our half strangled gasp, fingers squeezing so hard into his shoulders, your nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. He groans, pausing for a moment when he’s fully bottomed out, your walls hugging his cock so tightly, almost feels like you’re trying to squeeze it right off. “Fuckk, you feel so good..” he rasps and you swallow hard, wiggling your hips up before sinking down again, your arms moving around his neck to rest your chin on his shoulder.
Aki’s grip on your tights tightens, bucking his hips upwards again and again until the only sound in the secluded car are both of your moans, a continuous sound of your flesh slapping against his, the vulgar noises between your legs every time his cock drives into your squelching pussy. You bury your face into the crook of his neck, your cute little “ah ah ah”’s getting higher, louder. His hand finds its way between your legs, pinching and rolling your clit with his thumb and index finger, your eyes rolling back, a cute little “akii..!” muffled against his skin. “I know, i’m close too.” he barely manages to say, the smooth, controlled motions of his fingers against your clit becoming messy, impatient.
Your core tightens and with a last pride shattering moan, you squirt, your body convulsing and twitching. Reaching his own orgasm, Aki swiftly pulls out, spurting ropes of warm sticky vum on your stomach and legs. Finally, you slightly let yourself limp against him to catch your breath, a bruise on your side brushing against him so you wince. You’re both sweaty, hair sticking to your foreheads and now that the desire’s worn off, you suddenly realise just how much you’re aching. “Ow.” you say dryly, earning a chuckle from Aki. “We should probably get home.” he says, easing you off of him, reaching into the compartment box to get some tissues. “And you need a shower.”
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paperyowl ¡ 3 days ago
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Another WIP, because I have time to go through all of them right now. Rockon, slightly connected to my "Not a Rookie Mistake"-verse.
---
Rocker introduced his wife to Deacon on a Wednesday afternoon.
It had been a relatively quiet week, and Mumford had finally sent his team home for some much-deserved days off. It wasn't unusual for guests to linger in the entrance area under the general supervision of one or two security officers, especially around shift change.
Deacon knew most of the faces of his team members' partners by then. And usually the respective spouses of the B-team as well. But there was one woman that he had never seen before. She wore simple jeans and a crisp blouse and her hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail. There was a quiet confidence about her, a subtle strength in the way she held herself. She was definitely attractive.
Deacon watched as her face morphed into a smile as she spotted whoever she was waiting for - and almost choked on the water he'd just been about to drink when he saw that it was Rocker who kissed her in greeting.
"Woah there, Deac," Luca called out. "You doing okay?"
Deacon coughed, then laughed. "Just went down the wrong pipe."
He didn't know what else to say, how else to cover up that wicked lick of jealousy that had just tightened his throat. And hold up, where had that even come from - he had no business being jealous, he was not jealous.
It was a good thing that Deacon could make himself fall in step with Luca almost blindly these days, following the rest of his squad while they were getting ready to head out.
Deacon just barely managed to keep his polite, neutral face firm when they reached the couple. When had this happened?
"Don't tell me she's here for you, Rocker," Luca teased, and Rocker scoffed good-naturedly. He certainly couldn't complain about any teasing while he used every chance to rib them himself. Deacon knew that Rocker revelled in their little rivalry - the number of betting pools the man ran was a bit concerning these days.
"Don't mind them," Rocker told the woman by his side. "Rowdy bunch the lot of them."
"Makes you fit right in, doesn't it?" The woman said, and earned herself a bout of laughter from the group. Rocker put a dramatic hand to his chest, but the woman smacked his hand lightly against his shoulder.
"Everyone, this is Valerie," Rocker said. "My wife."
And somehow, that was worse than Rocker kissing her. Something very ugly reared its head, an emotion that made Deacon's gut clench. He told himself very firmly to let it go.
Somehow, Deacon joined the rest of his team in polite greetings. He didn't know how he hadn't realized Rocker was dating someone. Let alone him having a wife.
It wasn't his place. But Deacon was feeling way too many things to even focus on one of them for long enough to tell himself to cut it out.
The next morning, Deacon walked into the office kitchen, and of everyone who could have decided to arrive early that day, he found Rocker there. Luck was definitely not on Deacon's side that day.
"Good morning," Rocker said when Deacon hesitated for a beat. He echoed the greeting, then went about making breakfast without further acknowledging Rocker.
He knew that he wouldn't get away with it - but Deacon didn't even know what he could say about this. 'I didn't know you're married?' Yeah, it wasn't really Deacon's place. 'I'm sorry, but I'm jealous of your gorgeous wife'. Also, not great.
Rocker sighed when Deacon's silence continued.
"Do we have to talk about this?"
"What's there to talk about?" Deacon deflected rather badly if he was being honest.
"We've been married six months," Rocker told him. It was new. But not that new - and Deacon had never even picked up on it. But that wasn't exactly a surprise. He tried not to look at Rocker too closely, not to interact beyond friendly jabs.
(Because he'd wanted Rocker back on that day in the bar, but Deacon was trying hard not to look at the fact that this want had never entirely gone away. If anything, it had gotten worse over the years, worse with starting to know this man.)
"I thought you," Deacon started and then stopped.
"I'm bi," Rocker told him. "Always have been."
There was another silence. Rocker cleared his throat.
"Well. Good talk. We're good?"
"Of course," Deacon said.
"Right," Rocker muttered, sounding exhausted for some reason.
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