#ill be fine and ill get through it. just a little stressed is all

[zephyrsobsessions]

Shit I forgot about wip wednesday. Was gonna post but got my ass handed to me by my biomed illustration class lol. I'll post something tomorrow when I get a sec, thanks for everyone who tagged me 💚

[the-wild-wolves-around-you]

working for 12+ hours today in front of a computer screen made me come to the realization that maybe murder IS warranted sometimes 🙃🤪

[vanessagillings]

I’m posting the ever-so-rare photo of myself alongside one of my characters based on my childhood because today is World Autism Acceptance Day, and I wanted to show my little corner of the internet who this particular autistic person is:  

I was officially diagnosed in February, at age 38 (I’m now 39). A lot of people thought I couldn’t be autistic.  Some people who know me in real life still don’t.  And until around 10 years ago, I didn’t think I could be either, because I was nothing like the stereotype media portrays. I was told that autistics lacked empathy (untrue), and never played make-believe (also often untrue) and only enjoyed STEM.  I was — and am — an empathetic artist -- and make believe?  I can spend days sketching finely bedecked bears brewing tea or carefully choosing the right words to weave tapestries of fiction — though perhaps my hyper focus was a bit of a red flag.  Even so, how could autism describe me?  I was a good student.  I got straight A's. I didn’t act out in class.  I can make eye contact…if I must.  And lots of girls hate having their hair brushed with an unholy passion, right?  Clearly I swim in sarcasm like a fish, so autism couldn't be why I was so anxious all the time, could it?

If someone had told me when I was younger what autism ACTUALLY is — instead of the nonsense I’d seen on screens — I would have seen myself in it.  I didn’t hear that autistics have sensory issues until I was in my mid-twenties, which is when I first began to really research autism symptoms, and I had almost all of them:  sensitivity to light, smells, fabrics, temperatures, textures, and certain touches, all of which make me feel anxious, I fidget (stim), I never know what the hell to do with my hands or where to look, I talk too little or too much, I have special interests, I have entire animated movies memorized shot-by-shot and can remember the first time and place I saw every movie I've ever seen but I often forget what I'm trying to say mid-sentence, I echo movies and tv shows (my husband and I have a whole repertoire of shared echolalias, making up about 20% of our conversations), I was in speech therapy as a kid, I have issues with dysnomia and verbal fluency, I toe-walk, I can't multitask to save my life, I like things just-so, I’m deeply introverted but not shy, I need to recover from all social interaction — even social interaction I enjoy — and I find stupid, every day things like grocery shopping, driving and making appointments overwhelming and intensely stressful, sometimes to the point where I struggle to speak.  It turns out, I am definitely autistic. My results weren't borderline. Not even close. And while these aren’t all of my challenges, and not everyone with these symptoms is autistic, it’s definitely something to look into if you present with all of these things at once. 

So why did it take me so long to get diagnosed? The same bias that exists in media threads through the medical community as well, and because I'm a woman who can discuss the weather while smiling on cue, few people thought I was worth looking into. Even after I was fairly certain I was autistic, receiving an official diagnosis in the US is unnecessarily difficult and expensive, and in my case, completely uncovered by my insurance.  It cost me over $4000, and I could only afford it because my husband makes more money than I do as a freelance illustrator — a job I fell into largely because it didn’t require in-person work; like many autists, I have been chronically underemployed and underpaid, in part due to physical illness in my twenties, which is a topic for another day.  But it shouldn’t be like this.  It shouldn’t be so hard for adults to receive diagnoses and it shouldn’t be so hard for people to see themselves in this condition to begin with due to misinformation and stereotypes. Like many issues in America, these barriers are even higher for marginalized groups with multiple intersectionalities. 

It’s commonly said that if you’ve met one autistic person, you’ve met one autistic person.  This is why it’s called a spectrum, not because there’s a linear progression of severity (someone who appears to have low support needs like myself might need more than it seems, and vice versa), but because every autistic person has their own strengths and weaknesses, challenges and experiences, opinions and needs.  No two people on the spectrum present in the same way.  And that’s a good thing!  No way of being autistic is inherently any better than any other, and even if someone on the spectrum struggles with things I don’t — or can do things I can’t — doesn’t make them more or less deserving of respect and human dignity.

But speaking solely for myself, the more I learn about autism, the happier I am to be autistic.  I struggle to find words and exert fine motor control, but my deep passion and fixation has made me good at art and storytelling anyway.  I find more joy watching dogs and studying leaf shapes on my walks than most people do in an entire day.  More often than not, the barriers I’ve faced weren’t due to my autism directly, but due to society being overly rigid about what it considers a valid way of existing.  My hope in writing this today is that maybe one person will realize that autism isn’t what they thought — and that being different is not the same as being less than. My hope with my fiction is to give autistic children mirrors with which to see themselves, and everyone else windows through which to see us as we actually are.

If you’re interested in learning more about autism or think you might be autistic, too, I recommend the Autism Self Advocacy Network  autisticadvocacy.org and the following books:

What I Mean When I Say I’m Autistic by Annie Kotowicz

We're Not Broken by Eric Garcia

Knowing Why edited by Elizabeth Bartmess

Unmasking Autism by Devon Price, PhD

Loud Hands edited by Julia Bascom

Neurotribes by Steve Silberman

(trigger warning: the last two contain quite a lot of upsetting material involving institutionalized child abuse, but I think it’s important for people to know how often autistic children were — and are — abused simply for being neurodivergent).

Thanks for reading 💛

[yourdeepestfathoms]

The Larks and Being Sick

Cole

Will still try to push themself to perform, but even they have their limits

Conks the hell out when they’re sick, and they’ll sleep for hours (Perrine thought they died once)

Loses their voice. Thinks they’ll never be able to sing again.

Hand tremors won’t let them play their instrument

Gets flustered easily with a lot of affection and care (like if they have to be spoon fed because they’re too weak to hold a bowl themself)

Tries to deter cuddles because they don’t want to get anyone else sick

Emetophobic, and ends up making themself more sick by stressing out over possibly throwing up

Clementine

Super cuddly when they’re sick (usually SOMEONE gets sick after them because they were cuddling)

Mainly because they get really bad chills, so they just want to snuggle up to someone to keep warm

Quiet and mumbly

However, they will ramble deliriously when their fever gets too high

PILED with blankets (which Perrine will have to confiscate so they don’t get overheated, much to their dismay)

Kingsley

A big whiny baby when he’s sick

SUPER overdramatic

“I’M DYING!!!” “You have a cold.”

There’s sometimes a little bit of a “boy who cried wolf” situation with him, where he dramatizes how sick he is, but the others would never leave him to fend for himself, even after all the stuff he pulls for fun

When he has to be spoon fed because he’s too weak from the sickness, he’ll somehow find the strength to make a joke like “chop, chop, peasant!” (Perrine once considered pouring the water she was helping him drink over him)

When he’s really sick, he’s super lethargic, and it’s jarring to see him so worn out when he’s usually the most energetic in the group

Likes to lay his head into the lap of one of the others so they’ll play with his hair, soothing him

Will sometimes force himself into the lap of one of the others (mainly Perrine because she’s the big sibling of the group)

Perrine

Hates being taken care of, so she will act like she’s perfectly fine (she’s not)

Will refuse any and all help until she physically can’t move anymore—and even then, she’ll be stubborn

Pulls out the “but I’m the oldest!” card whenever anyone tries to take care of her

“You’re sick.” “No, I’m not.” “You’re burning up.” “I’m naturally warm.” “You’re shaking.” “It’s just a little cold.” “You literally just threw up.” “I meant to do that.”

She worries about the others when she’s sick in bed. What if something happens? What if they burn the house down while cooking?

Cuddly when she’s ill, but she doesn’t go out of her way to ask for any affection. However, she certainly won’t refuse any…

Easily becomes a little stir crazy from laying in bed. She also gets bored fast. She’s wasting so much time just laying around!

Wears her mask 24/7 to hide how pale and flushed she is from fever (the mask is making her sweat bullets)

Once threw up on stage and then passed out mid-performance because she underestimated how bad she felt (everyone was in a state of shock. she had to be dragged offstage by Cole and Clementine while Kingsley distracted the crowd)

Another time she was making breakfast for the group and fainted, and when she woke up, she was covered in oatmeal from managing to bring the bowl down with her

Would rather starve or die of dehydration than have one of the others spoon feed her

One time, ALL of the kids were sick at once, but Perrine pushed through it to take care of the others (she felt like death after, but anything for her friends)

[thragedys]

Clear Mind

Ren x Fem Reader

REBOOTING...

Synopsis: With many dreadful thoughts lingering on your conscience, you have been experiencing trouble regarding trust in the people close to you. With the news rambling on about murders and the everlasting feeling of eyes glaring at you, you’re close to breaking. You can’t shake that forever-present paranoia alone.

Word count: 2.3k

Includes: Ren x Fem Reader, comfort, Ren being sweet, establishing a relationship, smut, oral, cunnilingus, kissing, clothed orgasm

A/N: Ren is too cute! I had to write something about him.

It was strange—his behaviour. You’ve never seen anything quite like it, the constant jitters in his facade. Your emotions are constantly changing. At this point, you are uncertain how you feel towards Ren. Part of you pities him and wants to remain his friend, but the other wants to get as far away as possible. Miles, perhaps a new city. However far your legs can take you.

He hasn’t done anything to harm you. He would never. His protectiveness, however, disturbs you deeply. How he told your friends he was your boyfriend without the slightest hint of hesitation, the way he’s so effortlessly affectionate and intimate. If you’re able to clear the air with him this evening, there will be no more worries remaining. Other than the uneasy sensation of a set of prying eyes burning through you every passing moment. 

You blame your neighbour, Violet, for that unnerving sense of paranoia. She just had to mention she witnessed someone exiting your apartment. Someone you weren’t aware was in there in the first place.

Knock, knock, knock.

Three gentle taps against your door. It’s Ren. Your heart sinks to your stomach as you stand to your feet, legs wobbling as you make your way to answer. Pulling down the handle, you take a deep breath and gaze up at the lanky figure before you.

“Hi! Is everything okay? You look… Ill?” Ren pats his hand against the side of your face and you huff, feeling guilty for ever suspecting anything of him. Awkward people tend to shift their behaviour when around new individuals to avoid getting embarrassed, that’s likely his reasoning.

“I just need to talk to someone. I’ve been having trouble sleeping recently.”

“Told you that you could stay at my place whenever you wanted, didn’t I?” His smile was soft, raising the bag of goodies he brought with him. “Can I come in? It’s food and a few other things.”

…

“Wow, you don’t look well at all… Are you sure you’re okay?” His concern grows as you snap out of your trance, opening the door further for him to enter.

“I’m scared, Ren.”

“Of what? You can tell me anything— everything for that matter.”

“I swear I saw someone outside of my window a few days ago. I don’t know what they were doing, but I saw them. Hardly anyone is ever out there.”

“Hmm? Were they looking your way?”

“…I don’t think so. I can’t remember.”

“Okay, that’s fine! Don’t stress over it. We can talk about this after we eat. You need to get some food in you.”

Pulling out the boxed portions of food, he slides yours over and begins digging into his own, keeping a keen eye on you while you nibble at your meal. Even though you can’t shake the impending dread, you regain your appetite after seeing he purchased your favourite for you.

Now you feel a little bit better. You push any food waste aside and notice how he immediately goes to dispose of it, taking care of your duties inside of your own home without you having to ask. Ren was a sweetheart.

“How do you want to do this? Lying down, sitting, standing?” He taps his fingers against the tabletop, his eyes filled with worry as you space out yet again.

“Do what?”

“Talk. I wanna hear everything you have to say so you can get it off of your mind.”

“Oh, the sofa will do. Thank you for coming over.”

“No need to thank me! I’m happy to be here, so happy to be with you. I missed you so much.”

Not quite catching the last part of his sentence, you sink onto the sofa and rest your head against his arm. You pour your heart out to him, unsure if you’re overstepping by not holding back — but he did tell you he’s here to listen. And he did. 

When you finished listing off your worries, he hummed and squeezed you tighter, now realising that during your full confession, you somehow ended up in his embrace. His nose is pressed into your hair, one hand stroking up and down your back, hushing you as a few tears slip from your eyes.

“Don’t cry, Angel… You’re safe, I promise.” Judging from the tone of his voice, you can tell he is hurt by how upset you’ve been. “I’m here for you. Do you want to stay at my place tonight? Clear your head, get away from all those thoughts.”

“I can’t hide from my fears forever, Ren.”

“Then you’ll have to let me fight them off. I’ll beat up the bad guys for you and the bad thoughts.” He raises his fists playfully, locking eyes with you as you lift your head.

“Are you sure you could handle them?”

“Easily! Oh, I forgot to ask…” Ren murmurs, twiddling with the fabric of your shirt. “I am allowed to stay over, aren’t I? I brought my essentials, so…”

“Of course. I’m going to use the bathroom; you can go get yourself comfy.”

“You’re the best! I’ll be waiting for you.” He springs to his feet and wanders off into your bedroom, leaving you to tend to your nighttime routine.

Applying the final step of your skincare, you pat your face and yawn. It has gotten quite late, you’re starting to wonder whether Ren fell asleep without you. Entering the bedroom, you spot him sitting on the edge of the bed, as though he was seriously waiting on your command so he could lie down. His eyes sparkle when they land on your figure, and his arms open.

“Snuggle?” He flutters his eyelashes, his blue eyes boring through yours as you sit on his lap.

“Sure.”

“I checked outside of your window. I looked everywhere I could and saw nothing suspicious. I might have scared them off.”

“Maybe you did.”

“Do I get a reward?”

“Do you deserve one?”

“But… I protected you! I made sure any scary people left you alone. They won’t dare try anything while I’m here.”

“I was teasing you, Ren.”

“Oh…”

“You’re such a good boy. You do everything you can to help me.”

“Don’t say things like that…!” His face lights up a bright shade of red, eyes snapping to the side to avoid your gaze.

“Why are you so cute?” 

“Dunno… Why are you so beautiful? You are an angel. My angel.” Ren trails off, propping himself above you while your body is crushed to the mattress. “Mine.”

Your face is held in his palms, his eyes laced with nothing but adoration as they analyse you. He was tracing every detail of your face, trailing down your body, and stopping in their tracks when he felt a tug on the sleeve of his turtleneck. As he redirects his gaze back up to your face, he notices how your hand sneakily wrapped itself in his hair and edged him closer towards you.

He can never get used to this. The way you kiss him first destroys him. If he wasn’t desperate enough before, he is now. After recollecting his thoughts, he nips at your bottom lip and grants himself more access to your mouth, taking control from here. His pretty girl shouldn’t have to put all the work in.

“Can I…?” Ren mumbles into your mouth before pulling away, the string of saliva keeping you both connected. He twangs the waistband of your shorts, his index finger tracing swirls on your exposed stomach.

“Yeah…”

“I’ll be gentle. I know you haven’t been feeling your best, so let me do everything today. I just wanna take your mind off of things. I want you to be happy again.”

“I am happy when I’m with you. You make me feel safe.”

“…?” Ren halts, his hair brushing against your leg as he stares up at you from between your thighs.

“You mean a lot to me, Ren. More than you think. You drop everything for me when I need you most—no one has ever valued me that much before.”

“It will always be you above anything else. Nothing will ever be more important than you.” He slides down your panties, revealing the mess before him. 

“I love you.” Ren uttered, planting kisses down your inner thigh.

It went unheard, exactly as he was hoping it would. His words were mumbled as he delved in between your folds, his tongue exploring you frantically as if it were his first time. Your cunt was familiar with him now. His tongue traced the shape of a heart on your clit, then repeated similar motions until he watched your eyes flicker shut.

“Keep them open, please…” Ren laces his hand with yours, giving it a firm squeeze.

He wants you to watch everything he does, wants you to remember who made you feel so good.

Your hips buck forward, accidentally pressing yourself even closer to him. His hands wrapped around your thighs, holding you firmly in place while he savored your taste. No other reward could compare to this. The thought that you were this wet because of him riles him up. He made you this way, no one else. 

Slipping two fingers into your entrance, he remains gentle like he had promised. He was relishing in your reactions, slowly bringing you closer to an orgasm, then taking it away by altering his rhythm. It’s not that he doesn’t want you to cum for him—it’s that he doesn’t want this to end. For the past few days he hasn’t seen you face to face; he had craved this exact encounter.

Your walls tighten around him, an indicator that you won’t be able to hold on much longer, but he doesn’t slow down. He’s lost in your taste, entranced by the way you push yourself against him, allowing him to ravish you as if you were his last meal. The longer he goes, the sloppier he gets. Due to the grip you have on his hair, it became quite messy—the strays flying freely.

“I’m so close, Ren…” You whine, letting his name roll off of your tongue a few more times. Your eyes have grown hazy, unable to take them off him.

“Then cum for me. It’s my reward after all…”

Hearing his words pushed you, causing the cord building intricately inside of you to snap. You muffled your moan, forgetting the time and the likelihood of your neighbours attempting to get rest. The last thing you need is a visit from security due to a noise complaint. Ren pulls back, sliding his fingers from your cunt and wiping any fluid that smeared on his face away.

There was something odd about him. Whether it be the dark lighting or that look in his eyes—there was a different energy surrounding him. He likes the fingers that have been inside of you, sending a shudder down his spine. 

“What…? Do you want a taste too? I don’t mind sharing if it’s with you.” Ren pouts, extending his fingers to brush across your lips, smearing your slick across them.

“You’re looking at me all funny. Is there something wrong?” Ren’s once smug demeanour disappears, his hand patting his face while you shake your head.

“You’re so handsome. I’m so lucky.”

“…!” Ren leans forward, his breath hitching as if he were in disbelief.

“I was jealous when that girl was all over you in that store. Really jealous. I don’t know what we are or if we even are an official thing, but I know I would love to be your real girlfriend.”

“Angel…” Ren murmurs, utter disbelief upon him as he tries to get his words out. “You’re going to make me cry— in a good way… A really good way! I never knew—”

“Can you stay over more often?” Your eyes water, locking with Ren’s teary pair.

“I’ll stay over whenever you want, all you have to do is ask. I can’t believe this is actually… Do you know— Ugh. I can’t get my words out, why now?” Ren mopes due to his poor communication, but your chuckle grants him enough reassurance to continue trying.

“I was hoping you felt the same way I did, but I didn’t want to force anything on you. I’m sorry things have been so confusing between us. If I would’ve known, I would’ve made it all so much clearer.”

“Does this mean we’re officially dating?”

“I suppose… but, if you want the truth, we already were a long time ago in my mind. My eyes have only been on you. They always will be. They always have been…”

“Hm?” You rub your thumb over his knuckles, curious to hear what he said.

“Nothing, I’m just rambling on, typical me…” Ren beams, nestling his head down onto your chest. “It feels nice to know you’re only mine now.”

“Did you think I wanted anyone else?”

“No… but! That doesn’t stop people from wanting you. They can’t have you, so I win.”

“You seem very proud of yourself.”

“I am. I’m an even prouder boyfriend knowing you’re the one I have.”

“I’ll pay you back tomorrow.”

“Huh?” Ren lifts his head, his brows furrowed.

“I didn’t have the chance to give you any pleasure.”

“I had lots, don’t worry. Seeing you like that was enough for me.”

“Did you…?” You raise an eyebrow, squinting your eyes as your inquisitive nature piques.

“…” Ren’s cheeks light up, already aware of what you are insinuating. “Well— Yes! How couldn’t I? You’re just soo pretty, and you were moaning my name in that whiny voice, and—”

“It’s okay; you don’t need to explain. Do you want to clean yourself up?”

“M’ too sleepy. I’ll take a shower in the morning and sort everything out then.”

“I’ll make sure to wake you up nice and early with me in that case.”

Accepting defeat at the early rise, Ren groans and nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. His body is sprawled out on top of yours, his limbs snuggling you tightly. There is no chance of you escaping him in the night with his sheer strength, you would need to be plied off of him to be free again. Before you know it, your eyes unwillingly close and your heart sinks with his, blissfully falling into a slumber together.

[reiderwriter]

Well, Are You Mine?

Final Chapter of I Can't Help Myself

Summary: Spencer adjusts to fatherhood alone.

Warnings: Angst, hopeful ending, mentions Canon character death (Gideon), mentions of new parent stress, single parenthood, etc.

A/N: I'm back! The final chapter is finally here, and I'm so very happy!! Thank you all for waiting patiently while I recovered from my illness. It's monsoon season here right now, so I've been hit with just depressing wave after wave of coughs, colds, fevers, and general rainy season ailments. But now this is finished! Thank you for joining ke on this three month journey. I'll be publishing a much happier, much fluffier epilogue within the week, so please look forward to that~♡ Without further ado, The End.

In the six weeks since his daughter had been born, Spencer Reid had experienced what he could solidly call the most terrifying weeks of his life.

The baby cried, and his heart beat out of his chest. Rain or shine, fully awake or fully knocked out, a single gargle or a full on scream and he was sprinting to her side to coo her back to blissful sleep, or to change her, or just to hold her close.

In the six weeks up to her birth, he'd pointedly avoided parenting books on the whole, doing his best to drown out all the memories from reading similar books when JJ was pregnant. Every memory stung as he clawed his way back to the family that was prematurely ripped from him.

But the baby was here now. The baby was safe, and the baby was crying, which he knew was absolutely healthy and nothing to worry about, and completely and totally fine, except it dropped his heart to his stomach everytime she did it.

It wasn't as if your daughter was a particularly fussy child. She was a newborn, she was a healthy weight and size, and the doctors who had checked her over at the hospital after her birth had reassured him multiple times that she was totally healthy. A miracle, all things considered.

And she was his miracle. For six weeks, she'd been his little wonder.

The team had banded together to fix up his apartment while she'd been observed in the hospital for the first few days of her life.

He'd sat and watched her through the newborn window at the hospital while Penelope had cleaned up his apartment, and Luke had built him a crib.

Emily and JJ had gone hunting for baby clothes and found probably a lifetime supply of 0-3 months, 3-6 months, and 6-9 months babygrows, t-shirts, dresses, and matching little hair bows for everything.

The first time he'd seen the socks, he'd broken down.

Arriving back with his newborn daughter to his apartment, he'd carried her to her new room, desk removed and crib added, though the walls were still shelved with books he really needed to do something with. He'd opened the sock drawer and been faced with a drawer full of single socks. There wasn't a matching pair in sight.

He'd pulled his daughter into his arms and held her close as the tears fell once again.

It had been six weeks since you'd delivered your first baby, and Spencer was sure that if you had the opportunity, you'd be cussing him out continuously.

Because as much as he doted on his daughter, his sweet baby, who he swore was already smiling sweetly up at him each time she grabbed his pinkie with her whole tiny fist, he had still not given her a a name.

“We can't just call her baby,” Emily complained to him after three days, already getting restless with Spencer's lack of decisiveness.

“I won't name her without Y/N,” he'd replied, and Emily had shut her mouth, not willing to open up that can of worms around him just yet. The sudden silence whenever he mentioned you was deafening. Spencer felt the team growing rigid each time he said something even slightly hopeful, then gently tried to lead him back to being ‘realistic.’

It had been six weeks since you'd given birth, and smiled at him sweetly as you brought you'd daughter into the world and six weeks since you'd quietly slipped into a peaceful coma.

The first week, he'd been told to prepare himself for the worst. The second week, he'd been told there was nothing more that they could do.

But in the third week, you'd moved. Just your hand, just a twitch, but a sign of life the doctors had been trying to convince him wasn't there before.

In the fourth week, you'd recovered enough to be taken off the ventilator.

You were clawing your way back to consciousness, readying yourself to meet your precious, sweet baby.

In the sixth week after Spencer Reid became a father, he took his daughter back to the hospital to meet her mother again. With some expert baby-sitting from Penelope, he'd managed to visit you once every two days at least in the last few months, but with the little-one still only small, hospital visits to trauma wards weren't exactly recommended.

When they'd transferred you to a regular ward, he'd packed his bags immediately and gathered the baby up, strapping her into her carrier and waiting desperately for visiting hours to begin.

After thirty minutes, he made a call.

“Emily? Can I… can we get a ride?”

Of course, she'd agreed. While no one else had been letting themselves hope, they had absolutely been at his beck and call. He'd been swamped with guilt calling JJ at 3am asking how to settle you because he'd tried everything, and constantly relying on Penelope to come and help him and Luke and Emily, picking up extra hours to finish his paperwork because his paternity leave still hadn't been approved.

He felt guilty, overwhelmed, and stressed, and he needed you to wake up so goddamn much that he feared if he got any bad news, he would shatter. And he didn't know how to be a father, because really he hadn't had one before he was 20 and Gideon became his, and even he had left when things got hard. So how could he be sure he wouldn't.

So he hadn't given his daughter a name. And, yes, it was because he wanted to do it with you, to pick out a name together, but also it was because he didn't think he could stand knowing it if he was too weak and ran from her.

The pressure built and built for six weeks, as he fell in love with his daughter, who deserved better than his love, and then Emily pulled up in his car, and he started sobbing.

��Spencer!” Emily exclaimed, not expecting the outburst at all, the loneliness of the last five months catching up to him finally.

“Emily… Emily, I'm a terrible father-”

“No! No, sweetie, you're-”

“My daughter doesn't have a name!”

Emily switched the engine off and then grabbed Spencer's shoulder, roughly turning him to face her if he wouldn't meet her in the eyes.

“You have survived this job for nearly two decades. You have survived gunshots, and murderers, and loss that I can not begin to comprehend, and you love that child. You are grieving, and you are stressed, and it is so totally, completely normal to not be okay after everything you've been through,” Emily held her breath, waiting for his reply. Just as he opened his mouth to whisper more doubts, the baby in the back seat began to fuss and cry.

Unable to stop himself, Spencer laughed. Emily laughed with him. They sat giggling in the car together, tears in their eyes as his daughter kicked up a fuss.

“She doesn't like hearing you talk badly about her daddy,” Emily joked and started the engine again.

When Spencer finally made it to your room, his daughter had stopped fussing. A quick bottle in the parking lot had mollified her, and she was gurgling softly now, still pink, her eyes tightly closed. He'd dressed her up nicely, or as nicely as he could muster. A cute pink newborn dress for his tiny baby and a matching pink hair bow.

He gathered the baby carrier in his arms and let the hospital doors open for him.

Finding your new ward wasn't hard. The nurses were helpful enough and honestly, he'd taken a look at the building blueprints weeks before, when he'd been obsessing over every small detail of your care, so he practically knew the route by himself.

Straight, then a left turn, then straight again, and a right turn and keep going until there was a final turn into your ward.

He let out a deep sigh as soon as he reached the nurses station and readied himself to ask for you.

“Hello, I'm here to see my Y/N, I was told she was transferred here this morning?”

The nurses on the station looked up at him in shock and blinked at him a few times before speaking up. If ever there was a time to hear the words “you haven't heard?” uttered from the mouth of a nurse in a hospital where your comatose girlfriend was being treated, then it likely wasn't when he held a newborn in his already weak arms.

The panic set in quickly as he tuned the noise out. An older nurse walked around the side of the desk to comfort him, sticking by his side and grabbing the baby carrier before he could accidentally let it go in his shock.

Another nurse came to his side to take care of the baby, and quickly, they both ushered him down another hall to an adjacent ward. He drowned out every word as they tried to comfort and reassure him, his brain jumping to the worst conclusions.

His teammates were right when they said he shouldn't hope. He needed to be realistic now. If you were gone, he had to call your family and organize the funeral. He had to pack up your stuff. He had to settle the hospital bills and decide how you would be seen off.

He had to name his daughter.

The nurses pushed him towards the room quickly, and he mentally prepared himself to say goodbye, but as the doors swung open, he saw you, and he fell to his knees.

“Spencer?”

In the two hours since you'd woken up, you'd been poked, prodded, hydrated, fed, rubbed down, and spoken over like you were still somewhat asleep.

No one had explained exactly what had happened, and no one explained where your baby was, and you'd kicked and screamed yourself hoarse, as the doctors noted down that you still had use of your vocal chords and all four limbs.

So seeing Spencer crash into your room at full force through your tear filled eyes was the best experience you'd had in months, especially when you spotted the nurse with the baby sized car seat coming in behind him.

“Is that my baby? Is that my baby? Please-” You pushed sheets off your body as a nurse tried to hold you still, not wanting you to pull the IV from your arm or the oxygen tubes from your face.

And suddenly Spencer was there, and he'd regained his strength, and his hope, and his happiness because you were awake, and talking and god you remembered.

It was all he could do not to grab you, bundle you up, and carry you away to safety, but the nurse propping you up was stern-looking, and he had a daughter to tend to.

He pulled your face into his hands and kissed you as softly as he could, holding back his emotion as he held you like you would break, feeling your wet tears on his skin.

“I missed you,” he whispered, dropping his forehead to yours as he gently stepped back and allowed the nurses to help you get comfortable.

Then he turned quickly and grabbed your daughter, and your breath caught in your throat as he held her out to you.

“What do I…? Where should I put my hands- Oh god, I'm so unprepared, I-” your eyes welled again, but it was joy as you saw her serene little sleeping face for the first time and he slowly lowered her into your arms. It turns out, no-one needed to help you out holding her at all, because she was so precious and perfect and yours that she slotted into your arms completely, like it was a spot made completely for her, like you'd been purpose made to hold her and be her mother and love her and cherish her.

You cried and looked up at Spencer and laughed. He rested on the side of the bed and pulled you into his arms, and you felt that completeness a second time, and you knew that you were made for him the way she was made for you.

Your family.

It had almost been taken for you, but it was yours, and it was fate.

With a quiet whisper that only Spencer could hear, you leant down to your baby's ear and said your first words to her.

“I wish that I could be your mother in every lifetime, my sweet Angel.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

I think it's canon that stan smokes and gets high when he was younger

So I'm thinking reader (they are as old as the og mystery twins) is the type to smoke when they're stress and they say that smoking/getting high clears the fog in their brain

So how do you think stan & ford react to this? I mean they know it's bad but it helps them

Most research about the negative effects of weed I found online, whether or not half of them are actual negative effects is beyond me.

Stan isn’t a hypocrite, he’s gotten high before and so he knows what state your life must be for you to resort to getting high as a stress relief.

He fully understands why you’d always resort to doing such a thing but would remind you that you could always come to him if anything was ever bothering you instead of resorting to getting high.

‘I appreciate it but I don’t want to bother you with what goes on in my head, half of the time I can’t even put it into words that best describes what I’m going through but with this,’ you raised your blunt, ‘it helps me in ways that talking to someone else never could.’

‘Okay, just know I’m here to talk toots.’ Stanley said as he patted your shoulder and left you be.

Stan did it to escape everything and avoid the consequences of his own actions, so much so that he often abused the substance on more then one occasion, but after Dipper and Mabel came for the summer, he has later learned to cut down his smoking sessions for the betterment for the twins and himself.

So whenever he sees you heading out towards your designated smoking spot- the top of the shack- he’d sometimes join you for a smoke, especially when Ford came back and had been nothing but a stubborn nuisance as you shared common worries while the smell of his cigarette and weed was all you could smell.

Neither of you spoke but there was a solidarity between the two of you until you were done. Stan knew that it wasn’t exactly healthy but he wasn’t going to cut you off weed completely if it helped when you needed it most, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t not join you to make sure you weren’t abusing the substance like he did when he was younger.

Ford fully understands that weed is a natural product that can calm people who suffer from anxiety and stress related issues, but over-usage of it was highly discouraged.

Ford knew his brother did similar things in his youth and hated it then, but knowing that you did also only made his distaste for the strong smell stronger as he would then avoid any and all areas that you smoked in, and yet the smell clung to you like second skin and Ford was reminded of how much he hated the stuff and would try to give you something that would hopefully act as a replacement for weed.

Unfortunately for Ford it didn’t work and by the end of the week you were back to smoking weed almost on the regular to destress.

He’d even list off the risks you’d run if you low using the substance.

CHS syndrome

Elevated anxiety

Paranoia

Psychosis illnesses such as schizophrenia

Addiction to weed, if you hadn’t already formed one.

Confusions and or potential hallucinations

And so many more but the more he listed the less you seemed to care as you had relied on the weed for a good majority of your life, and did so in controlled quantities but understood Ford’s worries regardless in the matter and placed a hand on his shoulder.

‘I’m fine Ford, I know it’s not exactly good for me but it’s the only thing that helps.’ You tell him.

‘I’m here.’ Ford replied, a little hurt that you didn’t think of him as a good option for distressing.

‘You’re far too busy in your lab or out monster hunting to sit still for ten minutes and listen to me talk about my worries.’ You said as though it was obvious. ‘So weed is my only resort to calm mind.’

‘Meditation exists, so does journaling and or scrapbooking?’ Ford suggests and it was obvious that he was trying to mitigate any permanent damage you might do to yourself in the future.

‘Not my thing and I lack the patience when this mind is loud as fuck.’ You shrugged before walking up to the top of the shack to smoke, leaving Ford a little at a loss of what he could do for you now. He didn’t condemn you for your usage of weed, but he just worries that an addiction will grow from it and he wants to be there for you, he just doesn’t know how…

[leonkennedybreedingkink]

PRETTY WHEN YOU CRY

bestie!leon kennedy x reader

warnings: 18+, dubcon lol, mental health issues for both leon and reader… he’s a pervert and again ooc but that’s the fun of things. dacryphillia and he’s a little mean and sleazy.

tumblr removes fics with nsfw tags from the tag. ergo i’ve flagged the content at the beginning. you’re also responsible for your own media consumption, so if this bugs you, don’t read it.

Leon sat there on the edge of the bed with you, rubbing your back as you hid your face in your hands. “I just feel like I’m going in circles.” You tell him, lifting your head out of your hands to rest your chin on them. “I mean, I don’t feel like I’m ever gonna get better.”

He can sympathize, he really can, especially when he was in boot camp post Raccoon City and laid awake at night because he had nightmares otherwise.

He rubs your back in circles on autopilot, trying not to get bored or indulge in an impulsive thought that tells you to shut the fuck up and quit fucking crying, maybe open your blinds once or twice a day and you wouldn’t feel so bad. Eat a fucking vegetable or two while you’re at it.

You, believing the best in him, don’t really notice. “I just—“ and your voice breaks, face warming all the way to your neck as you hide your face in your hands again and kick yourself internally for crying in front of him.

You hate crying in front of everyone, your face gets splotchy and you can’t breathe through your nose. When it’s Leon, though, your best friend, it’s a little worse because you’d bet he looks cute when he cries, him and his stupid Botticelli angel face.

And, oh, that’s not really the right move.

He doesn’t remember when watching someone cry would be enough to get him off, except for an adult video he watched had a girl get fucked so good he could watch tears leak out of her eyes, openly sobbing when she squirted because that faceless phallus hit the right spot inside her.

Or when his ex-girlfriend was on her fourth orgasm of the night and she cried just a little while his face was between her legs.

He needed a stress reliever that day, it was a tough time; and he’s never really had to think while going down on someone.

Leon shifts a little and prays to a God he doesn’t believe in that he’s not seriously getting bricked up by you crying. Nope, it’s not going down, shit, he hopes you don’t notice.

You stifle sobs into your palms for a good thirty minutes, face and ears hot enough to power a fucking house. You take a break to wipe your eyes with your sleeve, sniffling wetly before you reach over to blow your nose. “‘M sorry,” You tell him, voice wobbling before you blow your nose and toss the used tissue away.

“It’s fine.” Leon tells you, his voice just a little strained. He wraps an arm around you and pulls you into his lap and prays you don’t notice that he’s bricked up just from you crying. God, Leon, that’s so fucked up. At least those girls—nameless pornstar and ex-girlfriend—were enjoying it, you’re crying because you’re sad and mentally ill.

Again, fucked up.

You cry a little harder when he’s being so kind to comfort you, hiding your face in his shoulder as you sniffle and keep the sobbing to a minimum. When your tears come to an end, that’s when you notice that he’s fully hard beneath you. You lift your head up after a pause, wiping one eye as you look at Leon. “Leon… are you…?”

He can’t quite hide a grimace. “I’m—um, I’m really—I’m not—“ And when he catches sight of your red face and tear-streaked cheeks, he nearly groans, his throat suddenly dry. That’s when he flips you onto your back.

You land in the pillows with a soft grunt, giving him a bewildered look. “What are you doing?” You ask him in a little voice, sniffling and wiping your runny nose.

“Do you ever stop feeling sorry for yourself?” He asks you, one hand planting in the pillow beside your head, the other untucking his shirt.

Your stomach turns and he can visibly see his words hit the mark. “What?” You ask him, eyes close to brimming with tears again.

“Jesus,” Leon swears, undoing his belt buckle one handed cause he’s had enough practice. “You wanna know what I think? I think you like wallowing, I think you like having people consoling you.” His belt comes undone with a rattle, his button and fly next.

You stare at him with your mouth agape before a couple tears slip out. He takes the chance to push up your shirt and lets out a groan when he sees the cute black bra you’re wearing, hands wandering up to squeeze handfuls of your tits.

You yelp, back arching of your own accord—he’s glad that worked, you told him enough of what you liked when venting about your ex-boyfriends not being able to find the clit or eat pussy right.

He’s never had that problem, obviously.

A slightly mean smile crawls across his face before he leans down to lick a tear track up. “Poor, unloved little thing.” He coos, sticking his hands down the front of your sweatpants to find you damp.

Leon rubs circles on your clit to see you grind your teeth and twitch, one of his hands still on your tit as you try not to react further. “You just sit here in your depression cave and feel bad for yourself, huh? Do you even open up your curtains to get some sun? The sun’s real nice, a natural antidote to depression.”

Humiliation and an orgasm lick up your spine a few seconds after he’s done talking, body locking up as your hands fist in the sheets. He tuts at you and sticks his used finger in your mouth, kneeling between your spread legs as he pulls down your sweatpants with the other hand.

Aw, you left a cute little wet spot on your panties, just for him.

You lift up your hips when he tells you to, he throws the flimsy garments on the floor where they land with a soft slap. “C’mon, I know how make you feel better.” He tells you, one hand cupping your knee to put one over his shoulder as he finally pulls down his jeans and boxers to mid-thigh.

Leon sinks in with a stifled groan, then wraps your other leg around his waist, turning his head and kissing your knee once he’s balls-deep.

Your chest heaves and he kisses your collarbone—poor thing, it must be a little much for you, he’s not even moving.

You scrabble at him when he finally does move, nails catching on his shirt before you manage to tug him closer. Each short, staccato thrust makes the bed rock and punches little squeaks from you.

Your door’s open, but he doesn’t feel like closing it, so he puts a hand over your mouth as he covers your body with his, hips grinding to hear you whimper against his palm. “I know, I know, baby.” he tells you, lips ghosting over your cheek before he licks up more salty tears that overflow. “I’ve got you. You’re all empty inside, I’ll fill you up.”

But not before you come, Leon’s a gentleman like that. He loops his arm beneath you and pulls you into his thrusts, you grow a little louder beneath his palm. He shifts so his pubic bone can grind a little harder against your clit and your thigh twitches before you sob against his palm, brows furrowing as you lurch up, more tears squeezing out.

He fucks you through it before pulling out and painting your tummy white, collapsing by your side and panting softly. You sniffle loudly and Leon feels a little bad, rolling over when you do and spooning you from behind, his release staining your sheets as you cry quietly.

He holds you through it, kissing your shoulder and the nape of your neck before hiding his face in your hair. “I’m sorry.” He mumbles after a long silence, “I was out of line.”

You shake your head and stay silent, wiping your eyes as you two cuddle in silence.

[turcott3]

the set up

cole caufield x fem! reader

warnings?: alcohol, cursing, kissing, smut, unprotected sex, public sex

masterlist

-

“truth.” you spoke aloud. you were at emma’s bachelorette party, one day before the rehearsal and you were all drunk playing truth or dare like teenagers.

“i know you have a crush on one of the players, who is it?” she asks inquisitively.

“well i’ve always had a little crush on caufield.” you reply with a shrug and a light smile on your face.

“oh really?” emma giggles.

“yeah, i mean he’s just so happy all the time and he’s really handsome, how could i not like him?” you reply taking another sip of your drink.

“i mean yall would be cute honestly.” she continues, texting someone quickly on her phone.

“who ya texting?” steph asks her next to you.

“just brendan, making sure he’s not blackout drunk, you know.” she laughs, knowing the boys were also having their party today.

“oh also, i’ll have your bridesmaid and groomsmen pairings done in the morning.” emma speaks up shutting her phone off. the rest of the night was spent partying, thinking in the back of your mind that you had just admitted your crush on cole to your best friend.

-

“hello?” you groaned into the phone, a call from emma waking you up.

“did you see my text?”

“no i just woke up, i need ibuprofen before i stare at a bright screen.” you laugh lightly.

“oh did i wake you? i’m so sorry.”

“no no it’s fine, i needed to get up, ill read it in a sec.” you reply.

“okay thanks, see you in a few hours y/n!” she says.

“bye love.” you reply, ending the call and getting up, digging for your pills. you popped two before opening your phone back up to read her text. as you ran across your name you almost choked on your drink.

“cole?” you question starkly, eventually leading to a sigh.

“of course i’m with him.” you groan, now feeling pressure to look flawless to maybe impress him. you knew that you’d found him attractive for a while but you had zero clue how he felt toward you.

after many hours of getting ready and making sure your rehearsal dress was perfectly wrinkle-less, you finally were able to leave your hotel room and make your way to the rehearsal venue.

“y/n!” emma yells as you step through the door, running up to hug you.

“hope you enjoy your pairing, yall two are sitting over there for dinner.” she winks pulling away.

“you’re stressing me girl.” you laugh nervously, sitting at the small two top table by yourself. much to your demise, you didn’t get much time to prepare as cole walked into the room a mere 5 minutes later, finding his way to his seat.

“how’ve you been? i haven’t seen you in a while.” cole asks smiling.

“oh i’ve been great, how about you?” you ask, picking at your manicure.

“better now that i’m here.” he replies, turning to face the couple as they were about to speak, a blush creeping onto your cheeks.

“hey guys so, before we get to eating dinner i just wanted to go over like the order of how everything’s gonna go just so we’re all prepared for tomorrow. and i won’t be mad that it’s not perfect, it’s not supposed to be. but if we don’t have any fun whatsoever, then we’ve failed our mission of being ‘the gallaghers’ so let’s hope we can do that at least.” emma spoke loudly amongst the room. she spoke for a few minutes just running through the order of how everyone is gonna walk out, you and cole being the third “couple”.

“and one last thing, i’m not making you guys sit at separate tables, i sat you with your pairing just because i didn’t like how it looked on the seating chart so, basically you’re attached at the hip all night. sorry.” she laughs, you knew she was particular in not wanting the wedding to be old school and formal.

“you think you got that all down?” you ask, trying to make it seem like you weren’t anxious, and it was starting to work. your nerves were beginning to ease as your anxiety seemed to remember that cole wouldn’t hurt a fly.

“i think i do. and we’re about to practice so that’ll be the test.”

“i’m nervous for tomorrow though.”

“whys that?” he asks, taking a bite of the plate that was sat in front of him.

“what if i like trip on my dress or like sneeze. i’m just scared ill ruin it.” you admit.

“it’ll be fine, you’re just over thinking it.” he replies and you nod knowing he’s right.

“that reception is gonna make it worth it though.” you giggle.

“oh absolutely, that’s gonna be the best part.” he replies

“and you’ll dance with me right?” he asks, with a hopeful smile on his face.

“oh um,” you pause finishing the sip you were about to take, “yeah of course i will.”

“great, i was hoping you would.”

-

you’d spent a vast majority of the night getting to know cole, which you loved doing. he’s an easy going guy who’s very sweet and respectful, which you adored. you went to bed tonight pondering on what the day would bring the two of you. you could feel the flirting between the two of you all evening.

the next morning, you woke up feeling refreshed. you went over the details of the wedding in your head over and over until you didn’t miss a word. you grabbed onto your garment and makeup bag and fled the room, rushing to be by your best friends side as she got ready for her big day.

“so you nervous?” you ask.

“girl no, i already know im saying yes.” she laughs as she sits in the chair being dolled up by her make up artist.

“oh that’s good.” you replied unpacking your things beginning to get yourself ready with the girls. the time came quickly. it seemed like minutes passed by between the time you finished your hair to the time you were stood with the guy you’ve had a crush on for a year.

“you okay? you’re fidgety.” cole asks quietly.

“oh uh, yeah i’m okay. just nervous.” you say, his hand then softly rubbing up and down your back.

“don’t be nervous, you’re gonna be great. if you trip ill catch you. i’m here.” he replies reassuringly as you flash him a weak smile.

“thank you.”

“of course, and you look beautiful by the way.” he says before locking arms with you, prepared to walk down the aisle. you made it down without any trips and appreciated cole going the extra mile to help you up a couple of stairs. you all stood on your respective sides, admiring the couple between you, sharing occasional glances with cole from across the altar. selfishly, you couldn’t stop thinking about him and how kind he was to you just moments prior.

-

the reception started about 30 minutes ago and you’re already 3 wine glasses deep with cole. you’d been dancing for a while and finally made your way back to the table, still littered with the others. you both had grown to be decently drunk and were getting touchy with cole, which is something you wouldn’t DARE to have done about 45 minutes ago.

“cole is need to pee, will you come with me and hold my dress?” you ask, sporting proud puppy dog eyes.

“yes, come on.” he replies standing up reaching his hand out to you, you found your way to the, luckily, single stall restroom. you locked the door quickly and turn to face him.

“i actually don’t have to pee.”

“i know.”

“you do?”

“yes, you’ve been making it obvious.” he giggles.

“what do you mean obvio-“ you start and are cut off by his lips harshly on yours, but in a way you enjoy. it was a quick change in environment, the fun had subsided and all you wanted to know was how he felt buried deep inside you. you felt yourself grow wet at his hands grazing down your back and onto your ass. his lips trailed to your neck, nipping and sucking on the skin before returning back to your lips after a long moment.

“i don’t wanna ruin your make u-“ he starts.

“shut up and fuck me caufield.” you reply interrupting him, a skill you’d both acquired in the last two minutes. cutting him off. a look of shock briefly flashes across his face before a smirk takes over.

“are you sure?” he asks, his hands placed on your waist.

“what do you mean? did you not hear me?”

“no i mean are you sure you wanna do it here?”

“yes, i want you right fucking now cole, and maybe again later when you’re staying in my room with me.” you reply and he smirks, turning you around and bending you over the sink. he assists you in pulling the short train on youryour long skirt over your ass, pushing your soaked lace thong to the side.

“so wet already?” he asks dragging a quick finger through your soaked core.

“mhm.” you reply biting your lip. you looked down at his pants in the mirror as he quickly unbuttoned his dress pants, rubbing himself hard very quickly. you bit your lip as you watched him line his hard cock up with your entrance.

“nuh uh, eyes up here.” he says using his hand to push your chin back up, locking eyes with him as he ran his leaning tip through your wet folds.

“cole we have to be fast.” you complain, as if you weren’t enjoying the teasing. a sigh of relief left your mouth as he buried himself deep inside you, his tip brushing your g-spot instantly, your eyes rolling back.

“oh fuck.” you whimper, realizing you are in a very public place and have to make sure you keep your voice down. you mentally acknowledge the fact that you have no choice but to be fast in this moment, wanting to get the job done quickly. in thinking, you fucked yourself back onto him, colliding in the middle.

“god fuck-“ he grunts, placing his hands firmly on your ass cheeks, thrusting quickly, letting the fabric of your dress muffle the sound of your skin clapping.

“you’re so tight y/n.” he says, almost speeding up his already decent pace.

“oh my god cole, that’s it right there.” you whisper, tears forming in your eyes as you collapsed further over the sink. gently, he wrapped his arm around your chest pulling you up, deepening the angle of his thrusts, hitting your g-spot right on the head with each thrust.

“fucking god, i’m gonna cum.” you whine, a tear slipping from your eye.

“come on baby, cum for me. i will too yeah?” he asks with eyebrows raised in the mirror and you nod as the knot unravels in your stomach, shockwaves shooting through your body rapidly as he filled you to the brim with his milky climax, fucking you all the way through both of your highs.

“i can’t believe we just did that.” you sighed out, catching your breath.

“me either.” he chuckles behind you, pulling out slowly.

“oh fuck, here, stay right there.” he says observing the mess he made between your legs. he grabs a few sheets of toilet paper, carefully wiping you clean, tossing them in the toilet and pulling your panties back over your core.

“my eyes.” you groan looking in the mirror.

“let me see.” he replies and you turn around. he licks his fingers to fix the smudges under your eyes and around your lips, dabbing the sweat off your forehead with a paper towel.

“do i look okay?” you ask, pulling the dress back down.

“just as gorgeous as before.” he replies, readjusting his pants, making sure everything’s in straight.

“okay you ready?” he asks holding onto the door knob.

“wait hold on, can i ask you something?”

“yeah of course.”

“will you come stay with me tonight? like in my room?” you ask boldly, the buzz beginning to wear off.

“if that’s okay, yes of course i will.”

“it’s more then okay.” you smile lightly, wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing a firm kiss to his lips.

“good, then i can fuck you right.” he mumbles on your lips, kissing you again.

“woah fuck y/n i’m sorry.” he says as you pull away.

“what what’s wrong?” you reply nervously and he turns you by your hips to the mirror, using his hand to turn your head to the side, exposing the dark hickey he left on your neck.

“honestly, it’s fine, really.”

“are you sure?”

“yes cole it’s fine, and besides you’ll be littered in them tomorrow morning.” you wink, kissing him one last time as you turn the doorknob. he grabs your short dress train of the floor, carrying it as you walked out of the bathroom. you hear a chuckle a few feet away from you, realizing nick was standing there and definitely watched the two of you enter the bathroom.

“emma!” you shout as cole lets go of your dress, taking your hand as you jogged over toward her.

“we’ve been looking for you.” emma replies with a smirk on her face.

“oh uh, i just had to go to the bathroom and there was a line.”

“yep mhm, a line.” she laughs, turning your chin to the side, high fiving her husband.

“what?” you ask.

“bitch, what do you mean what? yall just fucked in true bathroom at my wedding and now you’re holding hands. oh brendan we have outdone ourselves.”

“what?”

“girl, i put you with him so that THIS would happen. nick was our spy, great help.”

“you wanted us to fuck at your we-“

“well that isn’t EXACTLY what we had in mind, i was thinking like a kiss during a slow dance on the floor but this? this is fucking gold.” she laughs hugging you, as you stood confused as ever.

“so this was a set up?” you scoff.

“well, yes.” brendon pokes in.

“thanks gally.” cole laughs, a soft hand wrapping around your hip.

“now yall go have fun.” emma says waving the two of you off.

-

“what a night.” you sigh, collapsing into your bed, cole right beside you.

“yes for real, we really got set up.”

“i’m not mad about it.” you reply.

“me either, i’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while.”

“why didn’t you, i’ve had a crush on you for like a year.” you laugh.

“yeah well, now we fucked in a bathroom at a wedding, i’d say that is quite the stride.” he smiles widely at you.

“i’m fucking exhausted. i would totally love to stay up and fuck all night but i feel like maybe we should sleep it off and then maybeeeeeeee fuck all morning?” you giggle.

“whatever you want baby.” he smiles, his thumb grazing over your cheek lightly, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips

“god you make it so hard not to just wanna fuck you like a damn bunny right fucking now.” you say and he busts out laughing.

“let’s go to sleep, come on love.” he says tucking the two of you under the covers.

“we can fuck like bunnies in the morning okay?”

“okay.” you pout, poking your bottom lip out.

“goodnight pretty girl.” he says softly.

“good night pretty boy.” you smile as he presses a light kiss to your nose.

-

[uvobreakmylegs]

Imminent

part 2 of the werewolf Nobunaga fic! also in case it wasn't clear in the first part the time period is meant to resemble the mid 1800s

werewolf!Nobunaga x female!reader

Part 1

Warnings: mentions of death, blood, noncon, brief mention of teratophilia, reader is extremely passive

Word Count: 15.3k

“Are you certain that man was shot?”

The voice that came up from behind had you pause, slowly bringing down the ax that you had been using to chop up the larger pieces of firewood. Doctor Mayhew had just exited your cabin, and he approached you with an odd look on his face.

It took you a moment to answer his question, but you nodded soon after as you repeated what you had told him when you had met him in town.

“Nobunaga was bleeding from two different places. And the blood that came from his side wound is still all over his trousers,” you pointed out.

“I see.”

Mayhew stopped before you with a slight huff as he placed his hands on his hips.

“Well, while he certainly has a few injuries, they don't appear to be the life threatening ones that you told me they were,” said the doctor, “in fact, he's in better shape than most of the men I've seen this week.”

“…. Oh…..”

You weren't sure what else to say to that, especially since you were picking up the irritation that was now surrounding the doctor. If what he said was correct, perhaps there was some justification for that; you had pulled him away from Willsden to tend to Nobunaga, a man that you said had been on the brink of death. Yet the doctor had spent less than five minutes with him before coming out to declare to you that he was fine. Given the situation happening in the town that you had only learned of that day, Mayhew wasn't entirely wrong to be unhappy.

Nobunaga had been close to dying when you had found him, though. That was a certainty.

Mayhew huffed again.

“Well, since this is done, I need to head back to town,” he said, “I have patients that are in need of help.”

This was a waste of my time, he seemed to be saying.

“I-I see. Thank you for coming anyway,” you told him.

He just nodded at you before turning to begin the journey back to the village.

“Did you need anything before you leave?” you called after him.

“No thank you,” came the curt reply.

…. He wasn't happy with you. That much was clear.

Mayhew left, trudging back through the snow while you were left feeling confused and a bit foolish. You hadn't meant to exaggerate, nor had you thought you were doing so. The state Nobunaga had been in when you first saw him was still fresh in your mind. With those injuries and all that blood that he lost, you were certain that he needed a doctor.

Putting the ax down against the stump, you headed for the cabin. You wanted to hear from Nobunaga what had happened.

When you entered the wooden structure, you could immediately see why Mayhew had left irritated:

Nobunaga didn't appear to be ill or injured in the slightest.

It felt odd. It had only been a little over a week since the blizzard ended and during that time, Nobunaga's entire state of being had changed drastically. He no longer looked the part of someone on the brink of death. The man you had found when you first laid eyes on him – the sickly pale man with multiple bloody wounds and a knife in his side – was gone, replaced by one with color in his cheeks, no apparent pains coming from those wounded areas and with no issues pulling himself out of bed when he needed to. He was eager to do so, actually, as he eventually made a point to get up and walk about the cabin every few hours while he stressed to you that it was better for him if he pushed himself in order to regain his strength.

It was no different now, as you saw him sitting near the fire, his legs stretched out while he leaned back on his arms, his eyes focused on the burning pile of wood that would soon need to be replenished.

Nobunaga turned his head in your direction when he heard the door open, and he smiled once he saw you standing there.

“Hey,” he greeted.

“Hey,” you began before asking “what…. What happened?”

Nobunaga shrugged.

“Nothing much. He looked me over and said I'll be fine as long as the wounds stay clean.”

“Oh.”

Nobunaga's eyebrows furrowed, and he repositioned himself so that he could lean forward as he asked “is something wrong?”

“Ah, well,” you began as you stepped into the cabin and shut the door behind you so no more of the cold would enter.

“The doctor said that you were in better shape than most of the people he had seen recently,” you finished.

One of Nobunaga's eyebrows lifted as he asked “isn't that a good thing?”

“Yes, of course it it,” you said, “but… How is that possible?”

Even though you saw him before you, lounging about in good health and good spirits, you still saw in him the way he had been previously: half frozen and covered in blood with distant look in his eye as he was surely sitting on death's door. You truly didn't understand how he had changed from that so quickly, nor how Mayhew seemed to not believe that he had been injured to that extent.

You continued, saying “you were almost dead when I found you. I don't understand how you've recovered that quickly.”

Nobunaga scratched the back of his head, his gaze aimed away from you. Perhaps he didn't even know, you thought to yourself.…. You shouldn't be putting stress like that on a man that's still recovering, you thought to yourself. Even if he is doing better than expected.

“I'm sorry,” you then said, seemingly much to his surprise.

“I suppose I'm just confused,” you added, “that entire day and the ones that followed were rather strange. But you don't need to worry about that.”

“No, it's…..”

Nobunaga's voice trailed off, as he didn't seem to know what to say to you.

“Maybe…. Maybe the care you gave me was a lot better than you realized,” he then said, “and that's what helped me get better so fast.”

“But I didn't do anything other than change bandages and keep the wounds clean,” you said.

“Maybe that was enough,” he answered as he shrugged.

“… Oh.”

You weren't sure what to say. Largely because what he was telling you didn't sound entirely right; surely it wasn't that easy to overcome the injuries brought on by bullet wounds. But by all accounts, Nobunaga appeared to be fine. So maybe he was right and what little you were able to do had been enough.

Or maybe Nobunaga was just incredibly lucky the wounds just happened to not become worse over time. That seemed a bit more likely in your mind over anything you might have done.

Oh well. As long as he was healthy, that was all that mattered, wasn't it?

“Did you finish chopping up the wood?” Nobunaga then asked, his gaze once more going to the fire.

Right. You knew you were forgetting something.

“No, I didn't. I thought I'd get some of that done while doctor Mayhew was looking you over, but he finished with you faster than I was expecting,” you explained. You then turned around, preparing to head back outside as you added “I shouldn't be out long.”

But before you left, Nobunaga said “I could do that if you wanted.”

You glanced back at him as you smiled and shook your head.

“Even if you are fine now, it's better not to tempt fate by making you do something arduous,” you explained, “just relax for now. I'll be finished soon.”

“Besides,” you added, “you aren't dressed for the cold at the moment.”

All Nobunaga had were those ratty trousers and a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and he seemed to concede when you brought up that point. But even still, Nobunaga seemed disappointed as he rested his elbow on his knee, leaning his chin on his hand.

Worried that he was uncomfortable, you said “I can always run back to town to get you clothes after I'm finished.”

He raised his eyebrow at you again.

“You already went there once today. I'm not making you do that again,” he said, “you're tired too, aren't you?”

Nobunaga was right. You were tired. Even though a week had passed, you still felt the ache that had been brought about after you'd dragged him through the forest. Today hadn't been any good on your legs, walking a total of 16 miles going and coming from Willsden. All you wanted to do was sit down next to Nobunaga and let the heat from the fire soothe the aches in your limbs.

But then how would you keep the fire going when you had nothing else to feed it?

“I'll be alright,” you told him, “and then tomorrow, I'll head out early to the town and get you some suitable clothing.”

Nobunaga accepted that with a small nod of his head.

With a plan seemingly in place, you returned to the outside. But when you closed the door behind you and caught once last glimpse of Nobunaga, that image came again: of the dying man who needed help, a knife in his side.

The door shut firmly, and you stood still for a moment as you remembered that part.

The knife. The thing that fell out of his side – presumably a bullet – that was meant to take his life.

And then there was the way he'd been digging it out of himself.

He'd been desperate to get it out.

Part of you wanted to ask why, as even in a crazed state, you couldn't imagine what would compel someone to do such a thing. But then again, you'd never experienced being in that sort of mindset, so who knew the ways in which it had made sense in his head during that time. He likely didn't even remember doing it, and despite that part that wanted to ask, you kept yourself from doing so. Nobunaga either wouldn't remember or you would bring up a painful memory for him.

You didn't want to do that to him.

After all that he had been through, you wanted to make sure you protected his well being. Both physical and mental.

Due to the way you had hurried to get the doctor the day prior, you hadn't noticed it then. But on your subsequent trip to Willsden that next day, you felt that a grim atmosphere had settled over the town. The people who were outside looked sullen as you walked past, as though some great weight was upon them. You also noticed something else that you hadn't before: two of the homes on your way in to the town had their doorways boarded up. There were no signs of life within those buildings.

While wondering how you hadn't noticed something that obvious yesterday, you also wondered what exactly had happened.

Your answer came from the clerk sitting at the general store's register:

A monster had attacked.

Before the blizzard, he had said, a beast had descended on the town late into the night, breaking into the two homes you had seen boarded up and killing the inhabitants within them before others in the town could come to their rescue. A group that formed to kill the monster chased it into the woods, where three more perished before the blacksmith took it out with two shots.

Although the blacksmith had been successful in felling the monster, a total of seven people had died. Children had lost parents and spouses had lost their loved ones, and just about everyone within the town had been friends with a few of those who were lost. It was hard for most to feel good about the victory when the town had suffered in such a way. Now what most were doing was their utmost to ensure that such a tragedy would never happen again.

“I suppose we can't make fun of the blacksmith for his superstitions anymore,” the clerk said, their tone trying to be lighter as they said “doesn't feel right to mock it when it was his own special bullets that killed the thing.”

“And you're certain that it died?” you asked.

“Well, they didn't find the body,” they admitted, “but by all accounts, the monster took off running and looked to be stumbling around when it did so. The ones that were there claimed that it was in its death throes, so I'm choosing to believe them.”

“I see.”

The clerk then glanced over at you in the middle of wrapping up a parcel for you – filled with clothes meant for Nobunaga – and said “a lot of us thought you were dead.”

You blinked.

“Why?” you asked.

“That thing came from the same direction as your cabin,” they explained, “we had figured it had gotten you first before it came for the rest of us.”

“….. Oh.”

The air between the two of you became awkward, which the clerk immediately realized as they tried to backtrack, telling you that everyone was happy that you hadn't died and the only reason no one had checked on you was because of the blizzard that had hit immediately after the attack. You waved it off, telling them that you understood why no one had checked and that it had taken a week for you as well to feel like you could make the long journey through the snow. That seemed to fix the awkward atmosphere, and you left soon after, the large parcel containing Nobunaga's new clothes in your arms as you stepped outside.

There was only one last stop to be made before you headed back home – to the marshal's office to report the crime that Nobunaga had been the victim of. Once you had told your story, the marshal said that he would look into it, but he doubted that there was much chance that the criminals would be caught given how long it had been by now.

“They might already be dead,” he told you, “either from the weather or that monster. It'll save me some trouble if that's the case.”

“You're lucky to still be alive,” the marshal then added, “being so far away from us, you're an easy target.”

You responded to that statement by giving him a forced smile.

During the walk back to the cabin, your thoughts went in different directions: first of how Nobunaga was right and that there had been little point in reporting the crime, and then of how dangerous things had been in the area without you even knowing of it. Seven people had died, and if those you spoke to were correct, you could have been among them. If the monster had attacked really did come from the direction of your cabin, it could have been very close by without you realizing.

The thought sent a shudder through you, and you held the parcel tighter to yourself as you walked.

The fear that something could get you while you were on your own wasn't a new one – you'd thought about that a lot, especially during the long nights when you had difficulty getting to sleep. The statement that you were an easy target was absolutely correct; were it not for the fact that you had nowhere else to go, you would have left the cabin and moved to be closer to the others.

Although it wasn't entirely true that you had nowhere else to go.

If you really wanted to gain the advantage of more safety in numbers, all you needed to do was find one of the single men of the town and convince him into marriage.

But you didn't want that.

You liked the freedom you got in living at the cabin, even if it scared you sometimes. Although it wasn't a bad idea to purchase some sort of weapon. That wouldn't happen anytime soon, however. Glancing down at the parcel, you felt a bit grim as a fair amount of your jenny had gone to purchasing the clothes. But you got over it quickly. It was necessary. Nobunaga didn't deserve to spend anymore time in the manner that he was. After he had lost everything, you were happy to help.

You were happy he was there, as well. Because despite how you had told yourself that you didn't care about being left alone in the wilderness, it was nice to have someone to talk to. Especially someone as friendly as Nobunaga had proven to be.

And maybe having just one extra person around would be enough to assuage your fears of anything coming for you in the dead of night.

Nobunaga was pleased with the clothes you presented to him that afternoon. Finally, he was able to change out of his bloody clothing and into something nicer. And more importantly, warmer.

“Maybe now you'll let me help out around here,” he told you as he slipped his arms into a jacket.

You nodded.

“As long as you don't strain yourself, that would be nice,” you told him.

“I'll be fine.”

To that, you just smiled and nodded again.

He smiled back at you, and when you looked into his eyes, you saw a warmth within them.

Nobunaga seemed like he was happy.

You were just glad that he was still alive so he could experience such an emotion.

The night ended with Nobunaga making note of the fact that your portion of dinner was much smaller than the one you had given him, but you brushed off the concern as you said this was normal.

He seemed to accept it.

It was as if he'd never been injured.

Within a short period Nobunaga had taken over the more strenuous tasks of maintaining the cabin, most of it involving the chopping of firewood so the two of you could continue to keep warm. You had been worried about letting him do it at first given that one of his injuries had been on his shoulder, and you weren't certain that he should be putting such strain on that area, but he insisted that he would be fine. And that seemed to be the case as you never saw any ounce of pain flash across his face when he would bring the ax down upon the wooden logs.

Despite everything that had happened to him, Nobunaga was doing just fine.

But even with how well he appeared to be doing, you still felt compelled to worry over him. Even if that version of him you had first met was now gone, you couldn't remove the image of him out of your mind. So you made sure to ask after him, if he was feeling well and if he ever needed you to take over that particular task again.

He never did. Nobunaga would always reply that he was fine and that you didn't need to worry about him, and the way he would tell you always indicated that he was being truthful with you.

He also didn't seem to mind at all the ways you kept an eye on him. If anything, he appeared to be pleased whenever you did.

The days passed by comfortably with new routines setting in for the both of you, with Nobunaga taking care of the majority of the work that needed to be done outside while you focused your energies on the interior of the cabin.

Although it wasn't completely comfortable for you, as during the entire time since you had brought Nobunaga to your home, you had continued to sleep on the rug in front of the fireplace. As expected, it was starting to wear on you, but you didn't mention it to him. After letting him use it for so long, you had no intentions of kicking him out of it, and you told yourself that you could bear it.

Despite not mentioning anything to Nobunaga, he noticed.

One night you awoke to find that he had placed you in the bed while you had slept.

While the gesture was surely meant to be a sweet one, you were more alarmed when you saw that Nobunaga was sleeping beside you, as the bed was just barely able to fit the two of you in it.

It caused a mild panic at first as your heart beat rapidly and you looked to escape the situation. With the way he had placed you on the side next to the wall, the options you had were to crawl down to the foot of the bed and get out that way, or clamber over Nobunaga and hope that you didn't wake him as he slept.

You had decided to go with the former, even if Nobunaga did deserve the inconvenience of having his sleep interrupted for the way he'd moved you about like that. Sitting up with the intentions of slipping out of the bed sheets, you glanced over at the spot you usually occupied while steadying yourself with a hand on the mattress.

…. It had been a while since you had slept in your own bed, you thought to yourself. And while you weren't blaming Nobunaga for that, the surface you had made for yourself out of the rug and blankets was barely passable as a spot to sleep in. Your body was tired and sore and it was affecting you during the day.

Nobunaga must have seen that; perhaps that was part of why he refused to let you do the more physical chores, you mused.

You clutched at the blankets on top of you, now not wanting to pull them off so you could leave the bed despite the inappropriateness of the situation.

But he wouldn't have meant anything bad by it, would he? No, even in the short amount of time you had known him, you felt certain that he didn't have any ulterior motives. He had simply seen that you were doing poorly by sleeping on the floor and he moved you to a spot where you would be comfortable. It was purely practical. And while it was still a bit upsetting that he had picked you up and moved you in your sleep, as you thought on it more, you imagined that he didn't know how to start such a conversation with you, or how he might have convinced you that it was fine to share a bed with him. He wouldn't have, most likely, and you would have stayed where you were.

You didn't want to go back to that spot in front of the fireplace now, though you still felt conflicted about staying in the bed.

Then, a new thought – if it was just for one night, that would be fine, wouldn't it? Just once so you could recover a bit more strength, and then you would go back to how it had been before. It was purely practical, you repeated to yourself. The only thing he meant by it was so you could have a comfortable nights sleep for once. It was only good intentions from a man who wanted to repay you for all of your kindness. As long as nothing further happened, it would be okay.

Now having convinced yourself of that, you lay back down on the bed, though you did scoot away slightly from Nobunaga's sleeping form. Or as much as you were able to with the wall right next to you.

There would need to be a discussion about this in the morning, but for now, you chose to rest, and you fell back into slumber with Nobunaga at your side.

That following morning, there wasn't much of a discussion to be had. You expressed how alarming it had been to find yourself in bed next to him, and while Nobunaga acknowledged and apologized for doing that without asking you beforehand, he didn't seem especially sorry. Nor did he seem to really hear you when you expressed why it had bothered you.

It furthered your worry that he was dismissing your concerns. But he did promise that it wouldn't happen again, and since there had been nothing else about him that alarmed you, you chose to take his word.

At least he hadn't pointed out that you chose to stay with him that night.

“If you need to rest, make sure to let me know.”

Nobunaga glanced over at you and gave a slight not before he returned his focus to the forest around him while you followed behind, the basket meant for carrying wood on your back as the two of you scoured the surrounding areas for fuel for the fireplace. As was often the case during the winter, the main effort you took towards surviving was to make sure you kept warm, thus you were often out in the forest for that reason.

It was the first time Nobunaga had joined you.

He'd been insistent, saying that he could help out beyond what you were allowing him to do and that he was worried about you going out on your own. Nothing you said convinced him to let you leave by yourself, and so the two of you left together.

No matter how hard you tried, you still checked over him frequently, ready to give him the option of going back when or if he found that he was straining himself too much. Even if he and the doctor said that he was fine, you couldn't imagine that he really was okay after such a short period of time.

But you got the sense that Nobunaga wasn't as happy now with the way you kept an eye on him. Because of that, you decided to stay quiet for now and hope he would be honest with you if he truly wasn't doing well.

The time spent outside passed in silence as the two of you went through with the tiring but necessary task. Nobunaga showed no signs of being put out, and seemed to be in better shape than you were as after a few hours of slogging through the ankle deep snow, you were starting to reach your limit as you were out of breath and wanted nothing more than to return to the cabin so you could sit down. Your energy was distinctly lower than it normally would be, and you tried to ignore the empty feeling in your stomach.

If he noticed, Nobunaga made no mention of it.

Eventually the two of you had collected enough wood, and it was agreed that the two of you would return, to which you quietly felt relieved. Again, the two of you walked through the woods, and just as before you remained quiet, still worried that perhaps your companion was becoming irritated with you. You walked behind him, allowing him to take the lead as you traveled along the path back to home.

With your eyes on his back, you noticed how often his head turned upwards as he looked up to the sky.

When your eyes followed to where his gaze had gone, you found that the only thing there was to note aside from the many trees was the half full moon in the sky that was present despite it being daytime. Either he was looking at that or something in the trees that you weren't catching any sight of, you mused. Though you chose not to linger on it; it didn't seem to matter much.

It didn't take much longer to return to the cabin, at which you let out a small sigh of relief as you were eager to feel warm again once you were inside.

Nobunaga glanced behind him that time.

“Everything alright?” he asked.

“Of course. Why?” you responded.

“Seems like you're happier than normal to be back.”

“I suppose there have been a lot of anxieties about the outside building in me,” you admitted, “but there isn't much to be done when we need to head out to survive, right?”

He nodded slowly before turning back towards the cabin as he said “I haven't helped much with those anxieties, probably.”

“Actually, I feel a lot better with you around.”

“You do?”

You nodded at him when he glanced towards you again, and the way you smiled at him seemed to embarrass him as he just as quickly looked away and walked to the cabin with a bit more urgency. Following him at a slower pace, you felt a bit more at ease now.

But that feeling lasted only a moment as you took the time to look about the area that surrounded your home and found your gaze landing on the two pines not far from you. The same two pines where you found Nobunaga once he had woken up.

The same two pines that had the footprints between them on that morning.

You stopped in your tracks as you stared at the area before you, your breathing starting to come in shallow as you remembered what you had been told had happened at the town. You had tried not to think about it as the topic was morbid and scary, but now…. Now you felt rather dense as you hadn't put the pieces together until this very moment, and fear was building within you once more.

Nobunaga's eyebrows furrowed once he saw that you hadn't followed, and he turned around in order to place a hand on your shoulder when he had reached you.

“What is it?” he asked you.

“…. I realized something awful,” you said, your eyes still fixed on the ground between the trees.

“What?”

“When I went into town last, I learned that a monster had attacked,” you explained. Your hands clutched at your skirt as you added “and I just remembered something strange I saw the morning I found you.”

Nobunaga's eyebrows furrowed as he asked “what did you find?”

“Animal tracks. Large ones that were right over there. I thought it was a bear at first, but now I'm not so sure. I think it may have been that monster. One of them even said that it seemed to have come from this direction.”

You let out a shaky breath as you added “seven people were killed before they felled the beast, and I just…… I'm just terrified at the thought of what would have happened if it had broken in. If it was able to kill seven able bodied men and women, then it would have killed me easily. No one would have even known until the snow thawed and they realized I was nowhere to be seen.”

Nobunaga kept his hand on your shoulder while he remained quiet. When you glanced up at him, you found that his mouth was pressed into a hard line, and it seemed as though he was waiting for you to say something else.

But you weren't sure of what else you might say. Everything that could have spilled from your mouth in that moment seemed to have come to a stop, and you were left staring down at that space where you had seen those tracks nearly two weeks before, and all you were capable of doing in that moment was imagining what might have happened to you. If the men from the village would have boarded up the door to your home after finding your body.

You hadn't thought too much on your safety since inheriting the cabin, and now you were wondering if you were only still alive through sheer luck.

Finding your voice again, you then asked “just how close to death do you think I was that night? If that creature really was outside my cabin?”

His hand tensed slightly at the question, but this time, Nobunaga answered.

“Probably really close,” he admitted.

You glanced over to him and found that he was no longer looking at you.

“It was probably up to that creature's whim on whether he would kill you or not,” he said, “he just chose not to.”

“…. He?” you asked.

Nobunaga shrugged.

“He, it, call it what you want. Doesn't matter,” he said, “all that does matter is that you're alive, right?”

“I suppose.”

He arched an eyebrow as he asked “what's wrong?”

“Something else could always come by, couldn't it? And I don't have any means of defending myself. I certainly can't afford any sort of decent weapon,” you said.

I don't even know how long the food I have will last

You kept that thought to yourself, even though you knew you couldn't do that forever.

“If that beast isn't dead, or those men who attacked you come back and find this place….”

Your voice trailed off as you didn't want to finish that sentence.

“You don't need to worry about that,” Nobunaga told you.

“Why?”

“Because I'm here now.”

Nobunaga's hand moved from your shoulder so he could stroke your cheek gently, though you couldn't help but flinch at the unexpected contact.

“You saved me from dying. Somehow, despite how lost I was, you managed to find me, and not only did you take me all the way back here, but you nursed me back to health.”

He was smiling as he told you “so I've decided that I'll repay everything you've done and more. Now that I'm here, you don't need to worry about your safety. Because I'll protect you.”

The words lingered in the air a moment as you mulled them over in your head. A response formed, though your mouth remained closed as you knew immediately it wouldn't be taken well if you were to voice it. To tell him that you felt he was the one who needed to be protected would cause a tension that would be hard to deal with in the small space of the cabin, especially when his eyes burned so brightly with a passion you hadn't seen before.

You gave him a small smile as you took a more diplomatic approach, telling him “of course you will, Nobunaga.”

It sounded forced. It was forced.

And Nobunaga picked up on it as he frowned slightly.

Still desperate to keep the peace, you grasped at his hand on your cheek, pulling it off gently and grasping it lightly as you said “thank you for making me feel better.”

That seemed to placate him, as he nodded. Though you could tell from his expression that his feelings over your response weren't completely gone.

Dread filled you as you made your way towards the pantry that held your food storage. You didn't want to open it as you knew what you would see: empty shelves and barely anything to eat. Whatever you had in there might last you a few days at the most, and after that point, you would need to find some way to scavenge for food until spring came.

…. That was several months away, you noted. With both little food and little jenny left, how in the world were you and Nobunaga going to survive until then?

Your thoughts went everywhere, thinking of the items you owned that you could trade and the few jobs that were available within the town. Walking there in the current conditions would be an ordeal, especially if you needed to do so multiple times a week, but you had no choice. You couldn't allow either of you to starve.

Nobunaga getting some sort of work was also something that needed to happen, though you still found yourself hesitant to bring it up. You had been the one to rescue him, after all. Why couldn't you take care of him sufficiently? Thus, every time you thought to ask him, you felt guilty.

But he was fine. He had said so and had repeatedly prove so. So it was reasonable to expect him to pull his weight, especially when he was the reason why your food storage had depleted so rapidly.

It wasn't like he had meant for that to happen

With a sigh, you willed the thought away. You'd bring up the idea of him working later, but for now, you needed to make up something that would pass as a meal. So while a lump had settled in your throat, you opened the pantry door as you readied yourself for the dreadful sight of barren shelves.

Only that wasn't what you found at all.

Instead of empty shelves you expected, the pantry was overflowing with food. A variety of meats, vegetables and fruits were at your disposal, and all you could do was stare on in shock. None of that had been there the previous night.

It couldn't be real, you then decided.

So you closed the door, and then opened it again after a few moments, expecting the reality of your situation to return once you saw the lack of food within.

Except you still found it to be completely full.

You looked on in confusion as you wondered where this had come from.

“You seem pretty surprised.”

You turned towards the doorway and found Nobunaga entering, a handful of firewood in his arms. Shutting the door with his foot, he walked across the room to the fireplace and dumped the chopped wood within the box that sat next to it, wiping his hands after. You said nothing, at which point he looked back to you, and then he noticed the pantry.

Nobunaga smiled.

“We won't be going hungry for a while now,” he said.

You blinked.

“You did this?” you asked.

He gave you an odd look as he asked “who else would have?”

“But…. But where did you get all of this? How could you afford it?” you pressed.

Nobunaga opened his mouth, as though he was going to answer. But then he stopped and, seemingly thinking better of it, shook his head.

“For you, it might be better if you remain ignorant of that,” he said, “just trust me when I say that everything will be alright.”

…. You didn't like that response, and you were able to come to only one conclusion:

Everything that was in the pantry, he had stolen.

Your head swiveled back to the pantry as you looked over the contents again, and with all of the good quality food that was present, your brain raced as you tried to add up the amounts in your head.

This wasn't some little crime. If you were found with all of this, the two of you would face a severe punishment.

But that wasn't the worst of it, you told yourself. The worst part was that Nobunaga had very likely cleaned out the food storage of someone else. Someone who definitely needed it just to survive.

“Nobunaga,” you began, your eyes darting all about the pantry as you asked “what have you done?”

“I've provided for you.”

You turned your head back to him as he walked towards you while he continued to speak.

“You should have told me earlier that I was causing you issues,” he said, “how am I supposed to know that there's a problem if you won't tell me?”

“I-You were injured and…. I needed to take care of you,” you said.

“So you didn't want to bring it up because of that?”

Though you were uncertain of yourself, you still nodded.

Stopping right in front of you, Nobunaga let out a sigh.

“That's a sweet sentiment, but I'd like it if you stopped viewing me that way. Look at what happened because you weren't saying anything? You were starving yourself just to keep me healthy.”

Placing a hand on your shoulder, he continued.

“I'm not fragile,” he told you, “I can help you. And I want to help you, to keep you safe and to repay you for everything you've done. Whatever it is that you need, I can get it for you. So don't keep treating me like I'm some sickly patient, alright?”

After a moment, you slowly nodded. Nobunaga was either genuinely unaware of your hesitance or willfully ignoring it, because he smiled again while his hand traveled up to caress your cheek.

“I took care of the firewood, so you don't need to worry about that,” he then said. Then, after looking at the pantry, he grinned at you as he added “I'll make breakfast for us, too. With how long I've spent lounging around in that bed, I'm out of practice.”

Again, you slowly nodded and allowed him to push you out of the way as he selected what he wanted out of the pantry.

“What about….”

You trailed off when Nobunaga looked to you, and you didn't know why you lost your voice so easily.

You tried again when you asked “what about the people who need this?”

You pointed to the food as you did so.

Nobunaga gave you an odd look.

“We need this,” he said.

That was all he said before he continued with his task.

The morning was spent with you feeling uncertain and guilty over the meal you ate, all the while Nobunaga had further shrank the boundaries between the two of you as he sat directly beside you.

He seemed proud of himself.

The rate at which things changed left you speechless. Where he had once been the helpless man that you had saved, Nobunaga had now taken charge over your own home. He kept up in taking care of the more physically strenuous tasks, but you were now barely allowed outside anymore as he told you to let him take care of everything.

It didn't sit well with you, but you said nothing as you told yourself that the situation was only temporary. Although it had never been discussed, you had never intended on this being a permanent situation, and surely Nobunaga knew that. It would only last until spring at the very latest, and then he would be gone once the climate outside wasn't so harsh. So you allowed it. It would only be a few more months and then it would be over.

Though there were many times late during the nights that you wondered why you allowed it, and you wondered if this had been born from your desperation to have someone else around the cabin with you.

It brought up questions about yourself which you found you didn't want to answer.

It also felt like it had been an eternity since you had brought him here, and yet, based on the way the moon was slowly filling up with each passing day, it had only been a few weeks at most.

Nobunaga noticed that, as well. Often, when you would peek outside to watch him work, you saw him gazing up at the moon during the day, and the look on his face was difficult to tell what exactly he was feeling.

Was it fear? Or anticipation?

Then, the day before the full moon, something changed.

Nobunaga was hovering over you more than usual.

Like an overly attached pet, he followed after you no matter what you did and seemed annoyed whenever you would back away in an attempt to give yourself some space. That wouldn't last long as you would soon find him hovering around you again, staring intently at you as he did so.

As a result, that day felt especially long. You tried several times to ask him why he was acting the way he was, what was wrong, what could you do to help him?

Nobunaga didn't answer you.

The longer he behaved the way he did, the more unsafe you felt around him. All you could do was wonder why he was doing this.

No words were shared over dinner; neither of you wanted to talk to the other, it seemed. Though you only knew your own reasons as to why you didn't want to speak. Whatever his reasons were and how they tied in to the way he'd been behaving, that was all being kept to himself.

You finished your meal fast, and after you had cleaned up, you found yourself next to the fire with a book in hand as you tried to ignore him. But that didn't stop him from pestering you.

“Why are you sitting over there?” he asked.

“I'd like some time to myself,” you answered, briefly glancing at him before returning to the pages in front of you.

Evidently that wasn't a good reason for you to be away from him, as he then said “come sit with me.”

“…. I'd really like some time to myself,” you reiterated.

He scoffed.

“Hard to get that in such close quarters,” he told you dryly.

“I'm sure we can manage,” you muttered.

“Hm.”

It didn't sound as though he had truly conceded, yet moments passed by and nothing further happened. He wasn't insisting that you go over to him, nor was he walking up to you and getting in your space again. Not that it made you feel any better after his behavior during the day.

That was the only bit of reprieve you were granted from him, as when you were preparing your area in front of the fireplace to sleep for the night, Nobunaga came up and grabbed you in order to take you over to the bed, placing you beneath the sheets before he joined you shortly.

You didn't say a word. And you couldn't understand why you didn't.

Just what was it that was keeping your throat clogged up and your limbs stiff and immobile as you were made to do something that you didn't want?

… Fear, that's what it was.

Nobunaga was scaring you.

As you thought over the events of the last few days – no, beyond that. Nobunaga had been scaring you for some time now. You simply hadn't wanted to acknowledge it because you didn't know how to handle the situation. Now you were stuck in bed with a man who made you more frightened than you thought was possible, and you had no way to escape him.

So you turned over, facing the wall as you clutched the blanket close to yourself. Nobunaga said nothing to you, and as you assumed that he was focusing on sleeping, you told yourself to do the same.

At the very least, this would be over faster the quicker you fell asleep.

If only it was that easy.

How long you spent staring at the wall of your cabin, you had no idea. It felt like hours, but you were certain that it couldn't have been that long. Your sense of time was warping due to your distress. And again you wondered: why was he doing this?

The entire time, you had assumed he was already asleep, but then the sound of him turning over in the bed caught your attention, and suddenly you felt his gaze on the back of your head. You didn't need to look at him to be able to tell how intently he was staring at you. And the longer that went on, the more discomfort you felt as you laid in bed next to him.

Pulling the cover closer to yourself, you shut your eyes as you tried your hardest to get to sleep. It was fine; all he was doing was staring at you. While it wasn't ideal, you could ignore that.

Just go to sleep, you told yourself.

Things stayed like that for a few moments: you slowly curling in on yourself as you willed yourself to ignore the way Nobunaga stared at you, all the while he didn't say a word. He needed to know, didn't he? He needed to realize how uncomfortable he was making you. So why was he continuing to do it? Why didn't he care about how he was affecting you? Why had he been behaving so strangely today?

You could ask, but you doubted he would answer. If he hadn't the times before then why would he do so now?

So again you willed yourself to ignore his behavior.

It seemed to be working. Despite the weight of his gaze that was still on top of you, sleep was beginning to take hold. The exhaustion you felt at this time of night finally allowed you to put those worries aside, and the sound of the wind blowing the snow about outside gave you something else to focus on as you began to drift away.

Tomorrow, you sleepily thought. You would confront him tomorrow. Definitely.

Feeling a bit more at ease now, you relaxed a bit more, fully intending on getting a good night's rest.

You didn't hear the way he shifted in the bed.

But you felt when his hand reached out for your shoulder beneath the covers.

Despite flinching a little on feeling his touch, you did nothing to stop him or even opened your eyes, instead keeping them squeezed shut. You shouldn't be reacting in that way, you told yourself. Slapping his hand away is what you should have done – what you should be doing. Pushing him away and demand to know the reason for his behavior, and if it wasn't good enough, you would tell him that he'd be leaving first thing in the morning. At the very least you needed to kick him out of your bed for the night.

All of those things you could and should have done, yet you were frozen, keeping your eyes closed as you willed yourself to ignore it. Nobunaga's hand remained on your shoulder, squeezing lightly as if to comfort you before he moved, grazing the area between your shoulder and neck with his knuckles.

… Perhaps it was an apology, you told yourself. He recognized now how out of line he had been today, and this was his way of trying to make up for that fact. Nobunaga didn't seem to be the type to apologize easily, so you told yourself that the explanation made sense.

You still weren't happy with him, but if he really did see how tense and upset you were, it was nice that he was making some sort of effort, even if you really wished he would just speak to you.

Tell him it's alright and the two of you can talk about it in the morning

The thought entered your head and, despite the anger you were still feeling towards the man, you decided that you would rather have peace and were about to voice just that.

Only Nobunaga chose that moment to move in closer behind you.

And his hand traveled from your shoulder down to your pelvis.

Your eyes shot open, now fully awake, and you clenched at the covers tightly as you felt that hand gently massage that part of you, moving over that intimate area of yours before settling on your hip, continually caressing you with soft touches through the material of your nightgown. His lips were now on you as well, as Nobunaga placed soft kisses to the exposed skin of your neck.

You knew where this was going and you desperately didn't want that to happen.

Say something, you told yourself. Tell him to stop.

Instead of doing that, your voice caught in your throat and you could only clutch the covers tighter to yourself.

Nobunaga noticed, and the relief you felt when he pulled his hand away from you was quickly dashed when he pried the covers away, leaving your form exposed to the air of the cabin with only your nightgown as protection. In response you whimpered, now clutching at the sheets beneath you as you once again curled in on yourself.

Why? Why were you acting so weak?

Do something

NOW

Despite the voice that screamed at you in your head, you remained frozen as Nobunaga did as he pleased, now appearing directly behind you, his breath hot on your ear as he reached for you again.

That time his hand went to your breasts, and any sense of shame nowhere to be found as he blatantly groped you.

The action caused you to shudder, and that was enough to make you fight back as your hands went to grab his wrist, gripping him tightly with the intent of pulling him off of you.

The noise he made when you tried that was unexpected:

He growled at you.

It was so deep that reverberated in your ear, and you froze again as you wondered how in the world a human was able to make such a sound.

Now stunned into submission, you did nothing when Nobunaga readjusted you, forcing you to stretch back out on your front so his hand could wander about your body freely, groping and squeezing where he liked with his free hand slipped beneath you so he could continue to fondle your chest. That time he forced the neckline of your gown to widen so his hand could slip through, and you felt the rough skin of his hands on your soft flesh.

You could only whimper in protest.

He either didn't notice or didn't care as he nuzzled into your neck, leaving chaste kisses in his wake while his hands continued to assault you, only one doing so with your nightgown still in its way.

How long would it remain that way? When would he tire of just touching you and move on to something else? Based on what you could feel poking into the back of your leg, it was likely going to be sometime soon.

You remained trapped between him and the wall with precious little space between you. With no fight left in you and no way of fighting him off, you pressed your eyes shut once more, hoping that this would all be over quickly somehow.

There was a sense of desperation when Nobunaga finally reached down for the hem of your gown and pulled it up, forcing it over your legs and hips until he had it just above your stomach. Now your entire lower half was exposed completely, and you once again felt the weight of his gaze, this time on that spot between your legs that you still had clenched shut.

…. It was really going to happen this way?

Your breath hitched when you felt him grab at your knee and pried your legs apart without much effort. His other hand had left your chest and you heard the sound of his trousers being shoved down.

You knew what was happening, and you continued to stare at the wall so you wouldn't need to have that image of him forever burned into your mind.

I don't want this I don't want this I don't want this

With that thought screaming through your head, you found your voice, what little there was of it.

“Please don't,” you whimpered.

What came out was so soft that you wouldn't have thought he had heard it. Or if he had, you felt as though he may have pretended that he didn't.

Yet he stopped.

You felt that his eyes were focused on your face, watching you, waiting for you to speak again.

Again, you managed to find your voice, and it was stronger this time when you forced the words out.

“Please. Not like this.”

You sounded pathetic in the way you begged. Whatever strength that you tried to convey to those around you was nowhere to be found now. All there was in this moment was a weak woman who couldn't even look the man assaulting her in the eyes.

No matter how weak and pathetic you appeared, it wouldn't be enough to stop him, would it? You could still feel his hard cock against your backside. He wouldn't stop what he was doing and take care of that himself, would he? Perhaps he would even blame you for this current situation; perhaps he would justify himself by saying that you brought this on when you made no complaint on sharing a bed with him.

You knew there would be many others who would agree with his sentiment.

Tears threatened to fall as you continued to clutch at the bed sheets, trying your best to prepare yourself for this situation that you couldn't escape. Nobunaga's hand was still on your leg, still being held slightly aloft and leaving the soft folds of your pussy exposed to the air of the cabin. It was still going to happen. All he needed to do was shift himself slightly and his length would slip into you. Not without some resistance, but no matter how much your tight walls would fight to keep him out, he would ultimately have his way through sheer force alone.

That was what you had thought.

Yet he now was still. While his hand remained on your leg, he made no move to violate you further.

…. Had your words reached him?

You found that you couldn't help yourself, and you turned your head slightly to look back at him.

Nobunaga noticed instantly, and your eyes met.

He looked uncertain of himself. That uncertainty grew when he saw your fearful expression.

Upon seeing that, you tried again.

“Please, Nobunaga,” you began, “you're better than this.”

Conflict only appeared to grow within him as his eyebrows furrowed and he looked down at you with a guilty expression.

You stayed where you were, not attempting to pull him off you again. Instead you continued to look at him, willing him with every fiber of your being to force him to stop, to make the guilt too much for him to handle. After you had saved his life, that should be enough to make him stop, shouldn't it?

All you could do was hope that it would be.

Moments passed in silence with neither of you saying anything.

Then Nobunaga moved.

He reached for your head and pushed it down onto the mattress, keeping his hand there so you were kept pressed down and could no longer turn to look at him. It hurt slightly, and you let out a small groan of pain only to be shushed by Nobunaga.

Then he let go of your leg and pinned it to the mattress as well.

Now you were confused. The action of holding your head down made no sense if he didn't intend on-

You felt his cock rub against the back of your thighs. Your thighs, that he was now holding down. And after a few moments, he pushed his cock between them.

… Why?

Again the question ran through your mind as you asked why he was doing this to you.

Had he always viewed you in such a way?

You were beyond words now, and you kept your grip on the sheets as Nobunaga continued to fuck your thighs. The hand he had on your head had fisted into your hair, and every now and then he would pull hard enough to make you whimper. Every time that happened, he would shush you. When he kept pulling too hard and you continued to make those small noises of pain, he chose to clamp his free hand over your mouth to keep you quiet.

All the while he bore his weight down on you as he kept your legs pinned together with his own, and he continued to fuck into the simulated penetration of your thighs.

His hot breath on your neck became familiar as he leaned himself closer, his ragged breathing horribly loud in your ear as he got off to the awful situation. His hot length continued to breach the skin of your thighs as he kept you quiet and pliant for himself.

Closing your eyes was a poor idea, as you found that cutting off your sight only had you focusing more on the feeling of his dick against you, giving you insights to details you never wanted to know about. Of the veins, his length and the thickness-

No. You didn't want to think about those things.

So you kept your eyes open, keeping your gaze on the wooden wall of your cabin, doing your utmost to keep your focus on the wood grain that ran along the surface and keeping yourself from thinking of the man on top of you and how half of your face was repeatedly shoved into the mattress with every rough thrust of his hips.

The only saving grace of the situation was that he wasn't actually penetrating you.

Not long after, Nobunaga's groans became more guttural and his grip on you became harder. The pace of his thrusting became more erratic until he eventually pulled out of you.

And then you felt the warmth of his seed as he came on your thighs, coating your skin as he let out a relieved groan directly into your ear.

Once he was done, he fell on top of you, his grip finally loosening.

You continued to stay still.

Nobunaga did nothing further to you, and somehow, in the midst of the way you stared at the wall in shock while you tried to make sense of what had happened, you fell asleep. When you awoke the next morning, you were only allowed to stay in ignorant bliss for a few moments as you became aware again of his sticky release that was still splattered on your thighs, and all of the memories came rushing back within an instant.

That had been real?

The proof of that came when you cleaned yourself off with a cloth. At first your motions were slow, but as you thought longer on what had happened, you became more desperate to make yourself clean again. To get it off of you. It felt disgusting and you hated it.

If Nobunaga could tell that you were silently stewing in your feelings of betrayal and disgust, he made no effort to address it.

That day you couldn't bring yourself to look at him. Even when he hovered just as much as he had the previous day, you refused to acknowledge him. Instead of being upset with you, Nobunaga didn't seem to care. If anything, his behavior from the previous day had only escalated, as he made a point to have some form of physical contact with you, be it as simple as his hand on your arm or as extreme as wrapping his arms around you while he held you close, pressing kisses against your neck and humming to himself.

You didn't respond and kept your gaze averted.

How could he do that to you?

How could he continue to do this to you?

You couldn't bring yourself to ask, and your mind was stuck in an endless circle of questioning just what had happened while your body numbly went along with what Nobunaga wanted.

Not long into the day you found yourself sitting on his lap, as he had settled the both of you on the rug in front of the fire. His chest was pressed against yours while his face had been buried in the crook of your neck, and he breathed loudly while he held you tightly. Occasionally he spoke in soft murmurs against your skin, and the hand he had resting against your back would trail up and down against your spine with soft motions, as if to counteract the rough way he had treated you before.

Whatever it was that he said, you didn't hear it. Nor did you bother to struggle when he first pulled you into his embrace. Again, you allowed it to happen. You now found yourself staring up at the walls, taking in the knots in the wood and counting them over and over in your head as your mind no longer wanted to acknowledge what was happening.

This would stop eventually, wouldn't it? It needed to.

Nobunaga would let you go, he would leave, and then you would be free of him.

How you had come to the conclusion that was the way things would play out, you had no idea. But you chose to believe that anyway.

It was nicer to hope that this would come to an end.

And after a long while, it did.

Some time later, Nobunaga finally pulled away from you before he gently pushed you off of his lap, making you settle on the floor while he knelt in front of you. Two large hands then cupped your cheeks, and your gaze was then directed towards him.

Nobunaga smiled at you and leaned in to place a kiss on your forehead. A kiss that you didn't react to. He seemed unbothered by that fact as he followed it up by giving you a reassuring pat on the cheek.

“I'll be back soon.”

With that, he took his hands off of you as he stood to his full height and turned towards the door. With a few short steps he had reached the entrance. And without a single more word, Nobunaga opened the door, revealing the outside. It was getting close to dark, and yet Nobunaga was walking out into the cold without an extra layer of protective clothing or even a lantern to guide his way in what would be the quickly coming night.

Through the snow that layered the ground, through the pair of pines, Nobunaga walked forward.

Going, going.

Into the forest, you watched as his form grew smaller and became harder to see from the trees that surrounded him on all sides. Until…..

…. Gone.

He was gone.

And left in his wake was the wide open door of your cabin, and you, still sitting in the spot where he had placed you.

You didn't stay that way for long. The cold had quickly seeped into your cabin, and upon the realization that he was gone, truly gone, you didn't feel as though you could move. Now that the strength had returned to you, you pulled yourself to your feet and rushed over to the door, slamming it shut and locking it.

Now Nobunaga couldn't get back in.

You sank down to the floor as sobs began to wrack your body, all of the emotion that you had been bottling up within yourself coming out in a burst.

You couldn't sleep that night.

Hours after Nobunaga had left and you had broken down crying, you had briefly found yourself tossing and turning in the bed as you tried to rest. The memories of what had happened kept you from sleeping, and even when you went through with the effort of flipping the mattress onto the other side in the hopes that might make a difference, your sleeplessness continued.

It wouldn't leave your mind, and no matter how many times you made yourself survey the room to confirm that you were alone, every time you closed your eyes, you were back where you were last night.

Pinned down and vulnerable.

You gave up on the bed, and sleep as you sat down by the fire, stoking the dying flames by adding more wood. As you sat there, huddled by the fireplace, you found that you wanted to cry again.

All that you had done for him, and that was the way Nobunaga chose to repay you? By violating you in the worst way possible? How? How could he know all that you had done for him and still do such a thing? The only saving grace of the situation was that he hadn't gone through with it completely once you had begged him not to. But he had still made the choice to use you. And it was clear that he saw nothing wrong with what he had done.

It was sickening.

The tears that were forming were quickly and harshly wiped away with the sleeve of your nightgown. No, no more of that, you told yourself. You had wasted enough of your tears on that man. Tears and effort and your own goodwill. No more of that.

He wasn't in any way deserving of it.

…. Though maybe you weren't entirely blameless.

You glanced about at the closed pantry door that was still full of the food you knew he had stolen. The food that you had found yourself trying to justify, as you had truly had needed it. Would the people of Willsden be understanding? Someone there had surely been the victim in that crime, so you feared that they wouldn't. After how much time had passed since you first learned of the theft, you feared that you would be considered to be just as responsible.

Perhaps you shouldn't have feared the jail cell so much; if you had done the right thing at the beginning, maybe you wouldn't be going through this.

The right thing.

You had thought that had been helping Nobunaga when you found him, but now….

You stayed in that spot by the fire, your arms wrapped around your legs while your chin rested on top of your knees as you watched the flames dancing atop the logs. Late into the night, you sat there, waiting until the racing thoughts in your mind would slow and you would finally feel tired enough to succumb to a dreamless sleep. That was what you needed most right now.

It might be best to stay on the rug, you told yourself. You worried that if you returned to the bed, your mind would be alert again with those awful memories. Perhaps you needed to sleep on the floor again until the inevitable stiffness would return to your joints and force you to take the more comfortable spot on the bed. And if the bed was still causing you issues, you would get a new one once spring came.

….. With what jenny would you do that?

You sighed, pulling your face down so your knees were touching your forehead.

Tears and effort and goodwill and your own savings, and all of it for nothing.

As much as you tried to tell yourself that there was no use in being bitter about it, it was hard to keep yourself from feeling that way.

It was late when you finally felt as though you were tired enough that you might be able to sleep. With still no desire to return to the bed, you laid down on the rug, still staring at the fireplace while you hoped that sleep would find you quickly. Despite the slight chill that came from your lack of a blanket, you felt too tired to get up and grab one from the bed. That was a good sign. That you were too comfortable where you were to grab such a thing surely meant that sleep would soon take you, and your mind could have a brief reprieve.

In that moment, that was all you wanted.

A knock sounded at the door.

Though the sound hadn't made with any terrible force, the unexpected noise wrenched you from that place of rest, and you pushed yourself up by your elbows as you turned your head to face the door.

The knock sounded a few moments later, the rapping of knuckles clear against the wooden surface.

In your mind, there was only one explanation: Nobunaga had returned.

Upon that realization, you scowled.

When he knocked a third time, you settled back down onto the rug, your arms wrapped around you while you drew your legs in closer.

You weren't opening the door for him; you were beyond the point of caring.

So you remained determined to ignore him while he continued to try and get your attention, the force of his knocks increasing and becoming more rapid the longer you made him wait. He would figure it out. He would realize that he was no loner welcome, and then he would find shelter elsewhere. Even if he didn't and he stayed on your doorstep until morning, you wouldn't budge: you weren't letting him in.

After several minutes of ceaseless knocking, it finally stopped. At that, you breathed out a sigh of relief and closed your eyes, happy that it was finally over.

It wasn't.

Because something bashed against the door.

Something that, when it hit, was loud enough to make you jump into a sitting position, your heartbeat increasing in seconds as you suddenly felt terror and confusion as you stared at the door.

When that something hit a second time, you were watching as you saw the wood of the door bend inward, buckling beneath the force of whatever had been launched at it. Whatever Nobunaga was using to try and break into your cabin, it was something large and powerful.

You blinked.

He was trying to break in.

He wasn't even allowing you to be in peace after he had assaulted you; he felt entitled enough to demand entry into your home even after you had locked him out.

How could he do that?

“Nobunaga!” you cried, tears forming in your eyes as you forced yourself to call out his name, “just leave me alone! I don't want you here!”

The bashing against the door didn't stop, and once it hit after you had finished speaking, you noticed a large crack in the wood.

You needed to defend yourself. What did you have? Pulling yourself to your feet, you scanned the room. A knife, you noted, near the area that served as your kitchen. It wasn't ideal considering that Nobunaga was stronger than you, but that was the best you could do. You took a step forward to grab it.

That was when the door caved in.

Splinters exploded everywhere accompanied by cold snow, skidding across the floor and landing at your feet. Panic began to set in, and you yelled at yourself to get the knife before he entered-!

Only when you looked to the doorway, what you saw wasn't Nobunaga.

The thing that entered wasn't human.

It resembled a wolf, though it was unlike any wolf you had ever seen. It was as tall as the average man, or perhaps even taller, and it made sure that it towered over you as it stood upon it's hind legs. As it pushed aside the remnants of your door, you saw that the front legs weren't in anyway normal for a wolf. The way they stretched out and the way that they bent – they looked like human arms that had been covered in pitch dark fur, though the deadly looking claws at the ends of those decidedly monstrous hands were equally inhuman.

Your mind was blank as you stared at it in shock.

As as it bent down to enter through the doorway, you found that your feet were taking you away from the creature, backing up until your heels hit the edge of your soft rug and you found yourself tumbling backwards, landing hard on your hands while you kept your eyes on the thing that was entering your home. All you could hear was your heartbeat getting louder and louder in your ears as the creature stepped inside fully and stood back up.

It looked at you and you couldn't think. You weren't capable of rational thought in that moment and your breathing came out fast and harsh through your mouth.

The only thing you knew was fear; a certainty that your death was imminent.

For a brief moment, you wished that Nobunaga hadn't left you.

The wolf creature took a step forward, the claws in its feet digging into the wood flooring while it held out one of those hands in your direction, fingers extended as it appeared to reach for you.

You responded by backing away, using your arms and legs in an attempt to scramble out of its grasp. But your escape was cut short when you reached the edge of the fireplace. Your cabin was small and there was nowhere else to run to. It blocked the only way in or out, and there was no chance that you could slip past it. It would grab you. It would grab you and it would kill you.

Again everything within you felt certain that you would not survive even a few moments more. This was the end.

It was coming closer with its hand still outstretched. You were trapped, caught between it and the fireplace, the heat of the flames now constant against your back.

This was the end, you repeated to yourself.

But you didn't want it to be.

With the fear overtaking you, you began to attack it by throwing whatever was in grabbing distance.

There wasn't much. The only thing closest to you was the fire poker, and all you accomplished when you threw it towards the creature was having it harmlessly bounce off its leg and clatter to the floor. Part of you knew you should have held onto it, that it would be a more effective weapon if you had kept it, but the sheer panic was still controlling you.

That was what drove you to delve your hand into the fire and throw a burning log in it's direction.

You barely felt the heat that singed your palm and fingers, and it was flying within moments.

The creature actually seemed to look shocked at that.

Yet the second attempt to defend yourself ended up being even more pathetic, as you missed the monster completely and the log went flying towards the other side of your room where it landed squarely in the center of your bed.

The mattress and the blankets immediately caught fire, something which the creature noticed immediately.

And then it switched it's attention.

Instead of reaching for you, it rushed over to your burning bed. Your head turned as you watched it, and you saw that it was desperately trying to put out the flames by beating down on them.

….. Why was it doing that?

You only had the briefest moment to wonder that, as your eyes ended up on the doorway that still stood wide open and revealed the snowy night outside.

Open and now with nothing in your way.

For the first moment since seeing that thing, your mind became clear.

So much time had been wasted while you sat in shock, with fear taking over your brain and forcing you to make erratic actions. But if you wanted to possibly live, you needed to run.

It's attention is on the bed. It isn't looking at you. This is the only chance you'll get.

Run.

Run.

Run

You were on your feet, sprinting forward with a speed that you didn't think you were capable of. You felt the difference when your bare feet ran over the wooden flooring and when they met with the cold snow. It didn't matter. There was no time to think about how cold it was. No time to grab something heavier than your thin nightgown. No time to do anything except run.

It noticed when you ran.

From the corner of your eye you saw it stand suddenly, looking in your direction. It reached out and you saw it's mouth open.

So many sharp teeth. It would bite into you easily.

You sprinted out into the direction that you were sure led to the town, hoping with all of your might that you would lose it in the woods if it chose to follow. You didn't dare look behind you as you left the cabin, too afraid you would see it sprinting up behind you with all of those teeth on display.

A voice called out amidst the wind. A familiar one.

You didn't dare look back.

Less than a minute later and you were slowing, the adrenaline that had pushed you to run no match for the bitter cold of the night. Your fingers were freezing up and every step into the snow sent pain shooting up through your bare feet. But you could handle it; you just needed to last long enough to make it to the town.

If only the shadows of the trees made by the light of the full moon didn't confuse you, making you stumble as you tried to remember the correct way to Willsden. Things could look so different at night, and now you were looking about wildly as you simultaneously looked for an indication that you were on the correct path as well as for any sign of the monster.

You couldn't see it, hadn't seen it since the cabin. Perhaps you truly had lost it.

That thought gave you a bit of hope as you pushed yourself forward, reinvigorated to get yourself to safety.

But the cold won.

The next time you stumbled, you fell fully and landed with half of your face buried in the snow. Your fingers and toes ached and your limbs felt like ice, and none of them were responding to your commands to move. Even pulling your head out of the snow was too much effort for you and you were fighting to keep your eyes open. The energy was being sapped from you completely and you felt your consciousness beginning to fade.

All of that effort, and for what?

The wind that continued to blow about masked the sound of something coming towards you, and the last thing you were able to note was a large clawed hand that pulled you up from the ground.

…..

You were warm.

That was what your brain was able to register in those early moments of you waking up, and at first you didn't question it. After months of dealing with the cold that you had been doing your best to fight, it was nice to feel the heat that was running through every part of you. From the top of your head to the tips of your toes, you found that it felt good.

You let out a contented hum, and you tried to roll over to your side to get into a more comfortable position.

For some reason, you were unable to do so.

That was fine. You were still warm. You quietly willed yourself to stay like this, having no desire to leave this nice feeling. While you would need to wake up and face the cold reality of winter eventually, a few more minutes like this wouldn't hurt.

Though after a few moments, you found that you were starting to feel a bit too warm.

Being warm was fine, but when you were on the verge of being hot – that was more than a little strange given the current time of the year. And as much as you wanted to stay as you were, your brain was rousing you from slumber, and you slowly came to realize that something wasn't entirely right.

As you began to wake up, you found that the heat you were feeling was strongest at your core, and there was…. Something happening that was making you feel pleasure.

A firm, hot length that repeatedly dove into you, pushing in and out and the way it rubbed against your warm walls – the friction you felt – made you shudder. Something was pounding into your pussy, but you were enjoying it.

You still felt weak, but you attempted to lift your hips anyway, trying to get more of that friction so you could continue to feel good. You weren't anticipating the feeling of pressure on your clit as a result of that, and your mouth opened to let out a soft moan.

Your lips were then overtaken. Another pair of lips, far more rough and with stubble along the jaw that scratched at your skin closed over yours, and a tongue slipped past your teeth to caress against yours.

The groan that sounded wasn't from you. And when your lips were freed, you were able to hear grunts and soft mutterings that came from above you.

The voice was deep and you knew you had heard it before.

Consciousness was steadily returning to you, and you could feel now how your whole body moved as that length pounded into you, causing you to shift slightly on the mattress while the length inside of you would occasionally make jolts of pleasure to run through your body. There was also a noticeable level of soreness present in your pelvic region, and when your hips were shifted so they were situated slightly upwards, you felt something drip from your thighs and down your backside.

What is that? What's happening?

This isn't right

Your eyes snapped open and you finally gazed upon the scene you didn't even know you were part of.

You were in your cabin, on the floor next to the fireplace atop a pile of blankets. Why you weren't in the bed became clear as the bed frame that once held your mattress had been placed in front of the doorway to keep the cold out and your mattress was nowhere to be seen. But that was hardly important as you realized something else: you weren't alone.

Nobunaga was with you.

Nobunaga, who wasn't welcome, but had returned anyway.

Nobunaga, was currently on top of you and positioned between your legs.

Nobunaga, who was naked.

As were you.

And when he pushed his hips forward again, a gasp was forced from your throat in response to the friction caused by his cock dragging against your walls.

A quick glance at your pelvic region showed that his length was buried within you.

…. He was fucking you.

And based on the amount of sweat and cum that covered you both, he'd been going at it for some time now.

Nobunaga paused after realizing that you were awake, your eyes meeting his while he stared down at you, still breathing hard as he did so. Your breathing was just as harsh, you realized, and when you took another glance down at where you were connected, you were horrified at how swollen and sore your clit appeared to be. With all of the fluids and the other marks on your body that you could make out – what was wrong with your legs? – you didn't want to think about how many times he had used you for his own pleasure, or how many times he had played with you in your unconscious state to drag out unknowing reactions from you.

You began to tremble beneath him as you looked back up at him, tears filling up your eyes quickly. Surely he would stop and pull away once he saw that you were awake. Perhaps even look guilty at the fact that you had caught him while he was in the middle of assaulting you.

At the very least he should have stopped.

Instead he leaned down to take your lips in a kiss, and his thrusting started up again, though the pace at which he fucked into you had slowed.

You wanted to protest – to shove him off of you, but when his cock once again dragged along the wet walls of your cunt you were taken off guard, and instead you moaned while your body shuddered.

The blankets beneath you felt disgusting, as they were equally covered in a mixture of bodily fluids.

Nobunaga reached a hand down to turn your face towards him.

“Sorry,” he muttered between thrusts.

You opened your mouth, prepared to yell at him -

He shoved two of his fingers into your mouth, gagging you with his ring finger and middle finger as he kept you quiet so he could continue speaking uninterrupted.

“I know I should've waited for you to wake up. I really didn't plan on doing this while you were asleep.”

His eyes flitted down as he looked over your body, looking over the marks he had left on you while you had been asleep. You attempted to look back down as well, though you only got a brief glance before he used the fingers in your mouth to move your head back up.

“You were so cold by the time I brought you back, and that nightgown was soaked by the snow, so I thought it'd be better if I removed it.”

The nightgown…..

Right. You'd run out into the cold. Because of that thing that had entered your cabin. But whatever had entered was now nowhere to be seen.

Where was it? How had you escaped it? Why was Nobunaga back?

How had things gotten to this point?

Nobunaga continued, saying “I did for you what you did for me; I wrapped you up in a blanket to keep you warm. But I was worried that wouldn't be enough, so I decided I could help more if I held you.”

He slowed down, removing the hand he had on your body in favor of scratching at the back of his head, as though he was embarrassed. As if he was speaking of a slight slip up and not a brutal assault that had clearly lasted hours.

“I tried not to do anything more, but I couldn't help myself. So sorry about that.”

He couldn't be that sorry based on the smile you saw playing on his lips.

With his fingers acting as a gag, words were still beyond you, and you looked back to your body he was ravaging.

What was wrong with your legs?

The dark marks that littered your skin were numerous, but they didn't appear to be simple bruises. The shape wasn't right. Especially not with the way that several lines had erratic patterns that almost seemed as though they had dripped down your thighs.

With a great deal of effort, you pulled one of your legs up. And with the light of the fire, you saw clearer what what those marks were:

Blood from the cuts that littered your thighs.

Tears finally began to fall as you let out a high-pitched whine at the sight, your tongue hitting against Nobunaga's fingers as he kept you gagged.

“Shh, shh, shh.”

Nobunaga leaned in again as you started to cry, kissing you on the cheek as he said “I know, I know. It looks bad. But the cuts aren't deep. They stopped bleeding a while ago. They'll heal up in no time.”

That didn't make you feel any better, and the noise you made indicated that.

He sighed into your hair as he continued “I thought it'd be okay if I took you in my other form first, but after how much I cut you up and how much pain you looked like you were in, I stopped after the first round and waited until morning before I continued.”

Other form?

You didn't understand.

But he wouldn't explain it as he began to increase his pace as he moaned on top of you, concentrating as he plowed into your pussy yet again. Immediately you recognized what was coming and you tried to stop it.

Your efforts were so weak that he didn't even notice the way you attempted to push him off of you, or even how you pulled at the long locks of his hair in desperation. Nothing was stopping him, least of all you.

Nobunaga groaned as he stilled above you, leaving you to cringe as you felt his cum filling you up.

I don't want this

Finally, he removed the fingers that he had lodged in your mouth so he could lean down and take your lips in a kiss.

With no way of fighting him, you were forced to accept what he had done, what he was doing, and what he would no doubt continue to do to you.

All because you had come across an injured man in the forest.

He pulled away from the kiss but stayed close, and you saw veneration in his eyes as he gazed down at you lovingly.

“You're perfect,” he breathed, “I couldn't ask for a better wife.”

You whimpered in response, the tears continuing to fall down your cheeks.

Nobunaga leaned down over you, wiping your tears away before he kissed you again.

“I know,” he said, “I'm happy, too.”

[pouring-rains]

buzzin' (m.s)

cw; rough angst, drug use, drug addiction, yelling

wc: 1.9k

"Fuck-fuck- goddamnit," you say, pacing around frantically your hands going to your hair and pulling out of stress and worry, hurriedly looking through all of your stash spots trying to find any last pills you had left.

Matt was supposed to arrive home soon, and you didn't realize how low you were on your substances, and you knew that the longer you went without the worse your withdrawal would become, and you were unable to hit up your dealer as Matt would be at the house for the rest of the night.

Matt was completely oblivious to your worsening coping habits, unaware of how reliant you were on pills and other substances to make it through the day-- of how desperate you were to feel different, that you were willing to do just about anything, for another bump or another drink.

It wasn't his fault he didn't notice, he's just been busy with work most days, and he was home less and less, only home on some weekends and nights, but you weren't able to talk as much as you used to, matt tired by the end of his long days filming and working so he was always ready to sleep once he was home.

First, it just started as a little fun, you'd been lonely after Matt started coming home less, and you needed something to fill the void even for a little bit, so you took a vicodin, there were some in the bathroom left over from when you'd dislocated your elbow, and you figured that if they were prescribed to you then what was really the harm--and how fucking wrong you were.

That night you sat on your bed for hours staring at the ceiling and feeling like your entire body was buzzing and filled with pleasureful static--your mind the most blank it's had ever been, and ever since-- you'd never stopped chasing it.

Hearing the door creak open, you stop in your tracks looking toward the sound, your beautiful eyes once bright and full now sunken in and empty, and your youthful skin now looking dull and worn.

"hey baby, how was your day," Matt said while setting his things down and heading over to where you were standing silently in the living room and giving you a warm hug, you could feel the tension in your body leak out as his body meets yours, and you hug him back tightly.

"my day was fine, I didn't really do anything much but clean a few things up and watch a couple of shows and movies while you were gone, what about you?" you say trying to keep your voice steady and normal, not wanting to give anything about your condition away.

"well chris was being a dumbass all day he wouldn't stop fucking burping and acting like a fucking idiot, and nick..." is as much as you register before you get lost in your thoughts unintentionally blocking his voice out, your mind going to how you were going to survive the night without anything to pick you up.

"...are you still listening?" Matt asks waving his hand in front of your eyes to pull you from your trance, "shit, sorry Matt, I'm just kind of tired, didn't mean to ignore you," you say apologetically as you wince at your obvious disengagement in what he's saying.

"oh, that's fine, do you wanna head to bed? I'm kinda beat too," he says with a chuckle. "yeah actually, I'd love that I just feel like I can't stay awake right now," you reply trying to sound tired, voicing out a fake yawn in hopes that he believes you.

"yeah, lemme grab my shit real quick, and then ill head up to the bedroom," he tells you before heading over to the bag he'd set down previously, you turn around to start up the stairs knowing he'd be up soon before going into the bedroom.

You quickly shut off the lights to try and prevent him from getting a closer look at you, the withdrawal starting to set in even further, your frame beginning to shiver. your stomach starts to twist into painful knots as you try to coax yourself into sleep to make them go away when you hear the door open and a shuffle before you feel the bed dip down across from you when matt gets into bed next to you.

"goodnight babe," he says gently while covering himself with the blanket and resting his head on his pillow, "yeah, g'night matty," you say softly, controlling your voice's shakiness to the best of your ability.

Soon enough he fell asleep, but as much as you tried, you were unable to-- every crevice of your dependent brain stuck on the thought of drugs, desperate for any little bit to take this feeling away the horrible pain of your body and mind working against you willing to corrupt every nerve ending with immense pain until you filled your body with drugs to soothe the pain of it all--mental and physical.

After a while the pain got unbearable, and you caved. picking up your phone you shot your dealer a quick text before getting up out of bed very slowly trying to make the least amount of noise possible, intent on not waking up Matt.

After making it out of the bed with minimal noise, you shuffle over to the door opening it slowly, it creaks slightly but not enough to rouse Matt from his sleep.

You close the door carefully before walking downstairs, grabbing your purse, and pulling out some cash. Stepping outside you wait impatiently for your dealer to get there, your skin getting goosebumps from the cold weather as your stomach knots in pain.

Finally, after a few minutes of waiting, headlights beam onto you as his car pulls up. hurriedly you pull out your cash while he rolls his window down.

"here's your usual," he says, pulling out a little baggy with an assortment of colored pills roughly 10 or so inside. "thanks," you mumble giving him the cash before snatching the bag from his hand and scurrying back inside, shutting the door behind you softly.

"thank fuck," you mumble to yourself walking over to the counter and snatching two baby blue pills out of the baggy and putting them on the countertop before grabbing a salt shaker left on the counter and smashing the pills with the flat edge. grabbing your wallet you pull out your worn debit card using it to line up the ground pills before grabbing a bill out of your wallet, rolling it into a straw-like shape, and snorting the powder.

"what the fuck are you doing?" snapping your head up you look towards the stairs, seeing Matt standing there looking angry, his mouth curled into a frown and his hair mussed with sleep. Your face pales as you realize what he just saw, and what this means for you–fuck.

Tears start to brim at your waterline as you begin to panic, “nothing matt, just- just go back to bed,” you say your voice quivering with worry as you try to stand in front of the blatant evidence of what you were doing–even though he already saw everything.

“no, I know what the fuck I just saw, what the fuck are you doing!?” he expresses, starting to make his way down the rest of the stairs before you know it he’s standing right in front of you staring over your shoulder at the drugs littered across the table.

Taking a shallow inhale you move away from him going over to the kitchen sink and splashing your burning face with cool water and looking at matt’s still form, his eyes still transfixed on the pills on the table, just as you're about to open your mouth he turns suddenly anger beaming from his face and his body shaking.

“why the fuck are you doing this shit, what the fuck is wrong with you?” he says angrily, running his hand through his knotty hair almost as if he was searching through his head for an answer as to why you were doing these such things, knowing perfectly how horrible and addicting they were.

“because I don't know what the fuck else to do matt, why the fuck do you think!” you shout clenching your fists into balls and digging your nails into your palm trying to alleviate this stress in some way. 

“well, I'm certainly not fucking sure why you started this shit in the first place, why the fuck would you do this? you know how I fucking feel about drugs especially shit like this!” pushing back his hair once again he looks up at you, his anger losing momentum as he fully takes in your broken-down appearance, seeing for the first time how truly beat down you look.

“because I can’t fucking do this anymore matt, I fucking hate living like this, I hate my life, and your never fucking home I don't know what I'm supposed to fucking do anymore!” your voice breaking in the middle of your sentences as more and more tears start to roll down your cheeks.

“I-i- don't know how to stop anymore, it just got out of hand so fast and now I can't get through a day without them matt, I don't know what to do,” you say defeatedly, done with lashing out and leaving only exhaustion in place of your previous anger. For a second there was only pure silence after you finished speaking, assuming Matt was either going to leave or was now just ignoring you, until you felt his presence beside you, his warm body wrapping around your clammy figure.

“I- don’t know what to say, I’m so sorry I didn't know everything was getting this bad baby–why didn’t you talk to me? why did you have to turn to this?” he says, pulling you closer while you conceal yourself within his body trying to sink into him in an attempt to disappear so you wouldn't have to deal with all of it anymore–so you wouldn’t have to answer him, tell him how you made a bad mistake and it had snowballed into this big problem you weren’t sure you could ever fix.

“I- don’t know matt, it was just so fucking overwhelming I didn’t know what to do, I’m so so sorry matt,” your tears starting to leak into his hoodie as he tucks you impossibly closer against him trying his best to shield you from all of the hurt and pain you’re being put through mentally.

While his own heart was breaking into pieces for all the pain you were going through, and all the time he didn’t notice and let you dig yourself deeper into this hole of drug abuse, he was doing his best to help you and make sure you knew he was there for you now. “shh- it’s gonna be okay, we can do this together m’gonna help you get better baby, you’re not gonna feel alone anymore okay? I’m so sorry I haven't been around as much and that it got this bad without me noticing, I'm here now I promise, and I'm here to stay, okay?”

“okay matt,” you sigh, hiccuping into his chest, though it was going to be painful, and absolutely fucking horrible–at least now you had someone there, someone to support you and help you through it, and make sure you were happy, and felt loved–and sometimes that makes all the difference.

taglist : @chaossturns @freshlove-sturn @colorthecosmos444 @anxietyriddenblue @immattsslut @muchloveforhacker @pinksturniolo @mattshighway @sabsturned @fratbrochrisgf @star-neo-love @imwetforyourmom @blahbel668

[pacifierbby]

* ੈ✩‧₊ THE CEOS ASSISTANT

* ੈ✩‧₊ Landos' dad has taken ill rather quickly, and everyone in the Norris enterprise knows about it. Some are upset that they won't get a perfect boss like he was, but some are more sceptical about who the Norris Enterprises are taking on to be the boss of this place. Everyone asked Lilly, the CEO's assistant, but like she told everyone, she didn't know. It wasn't until Monday came around, everyone at their desk doing their work, when a man came in very nicely dressed in a black suit with a Rolex on the left wrist. Lilly had seen this man before, but where? It was when he only got closer that she knew it was Mr. Norris, son. Will there be hatred during her time working with lando or will there be something more between them?

୨ৎ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 LN4 x female

୨ৎ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 swearing, slight toxicity , rude lando, kissing , sexual innuendos.

୨ৎ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 1,268

(ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ)

CHAPTER ONE: ̗̀➛ work has been nothing but busy since you found out that Mr Norris has taken ill going out of your payroll to do jobs that Mr Norris did including your own cancelling all his upcoming meetings and clients you have been his assistant for two years. Still, Mr Norris took you under his wing immediately making you feel respected in the job always making sure that nothing was too stressful explaining stuff to you if you didn't understand it.

when you found out he was rushed into hospital you instantly went to visit him thanking him for everything you did "Sweetie you brought everything I needed and so much more you are like a daughter to me" the words that you never thought would come out of his mouth because to others he was abrupt but that's what he needs to do when he's got a business to keep going for his family. so when you found out he was going to give the business to one of his sons yes you were hesitant wondering what the new boss was going to be like but Mr Norris promised you that you would be just fine. giving you the slight confidence you needed. telling him to take care and enjoy his early retirement

When the word got around to Norris Enterprises everyone went up to you some asking if he was okay some just being extra nosey wanting to know who the new boss was going to be which you told them you really didn't know some believed you and carried on with their day some tried to get more out of you.

Mr. Norris gives you rules on what to do while you wait for the new boss, which you obviously wrote down going through every bullet point when you arrived at work the following day to ensure you didn't miss anything. You did wish he hurried up and joined, but you knew that one of his sons was really busy at the moment.

Walking into work, all the colleagues surrounding the foyer talking amongst themselves, walking towards Stephanie at the main desk, "What's happening?" You asked, "The new boss is in today, so everyone wants a first glance. " Nodding "they're like horny vultures want to know who he is. I have seen a photo of Mr. Norris's son, but it may not be him. " Stephanie laughed a little nodding her head, agreeing with your statement. ''Ladies and gents, please return to your workplace. Nothing to see here!" Your voice boomed, echoing around the foye, people scattered to their offices. Turning around, picking up your papers for the day, winking at Stephanie, See you later", heading towards your office.

Placing everything on your desk and quickly turning on your PC the lavender defuser instantly hits your nose giving you some slight comfort for today. going through your paperwork and the calendar for today writing down all the information that you need to bring to Mr Norris when he comes in hearing soft whispers through your office door ignoring it thinking it was your colleagues when the voices began getting louder. getting up from the comfort of your chair walking towards your office door softly opening it seeing your colleagues all standing in front of their desks confused peering around your door to see a nicely dressed man in a black suit on his left wrist a Rolex watch hugging it stepping outside noticing she has seen this man before but where? racking her small little brain remembering a small little photo frame placed in front of Mr Norris computer a small little chill taking over her body remembering it was Mr Norris younger son. standing up straighter her hands instantly going in front of her trying to give a better impression of herself Mr Norris standing in front of her "This is your assistant Miss Tomlinson" Stephanie softly spoke introducing the both of you your hand reaching out him looking at it ignoring it "meet me in my office in 30 mins please" straightening his jacket walking past you how rude you thought huffing Stephanie turning around with a quick sorry look showing the dickhead to his office turning around walking back into your office preparing your day with that dickhead.

walking towards Mr Norris's office door checking yourself in the glass pulling your skirt down a little softly knocking on his door "Come in" a voice shouted opening the door his blazer hanging behind his chair his sleeves higher just below his elbows. leaning back on his chair "Sir I have your schedules for today and new contracts for you to look over" placed them on his desk nodding towards the chair that was in front of him "Sit down" he softly spoke surprised from the counter that he did earlier briefly looking at the contracts "what's my agenda for today" looking down at the notes "well you have a meeting with Mr Riley at 10 talking about one of the contracts then you have another meeting at two for a hotel that is being built" you said softly "i thought ill only give you two for today make it easy" you said scared of the outcome "well uh thank you that really does help" nodding standing up "ill see you at 10" walking towards his door "um sorry Lilly I just want to say thank you for looking after my father while I was out of town" shocked from his sudden confession "it's okay" smiling softly walking out of his office maybe he isn't a dick after all.

walking towards the meeting room Mr Norris stood outside "Shall we start?" you softly spoke your papers hugging your chest and opening the door seeing the contractors already sitting and waiting. walking towards the front of the table Sitting next to Mr Norris connecting your laptop to the projector. begging the meeting you knew these people were hard to deal with Mr Norris's father was having trouble with them last year you could tell he was having trouble with winning this deal removing your eyes from your notes to around the room your eyes instantly falling on Mr Norris face seeing his eyebrows knotted together a frown upon his face. looking at his small little features you can say he was pretty fit but you can't think that he is your boss after all "Isn't that right Miss Tomlinson" your thoughts instantly getting interrupted "Yes yes" you quickly spoke not too sure what you agreed on Mr Norris looking at you weirdly" Mr Riley smiling at you both " well we will be coming tomorrow with our contracts" standing up shaking his hand and the other man that you really didn't get the name off when you sorted this meeting on the phone yesterday

walking out of the meeting room making sure you had everything "Miss Tomlinson" looked up to see Mr Norris standing with his hands in his pockets giving you some slight effect "You did well in there but are you okay? You looked slightly flustered" was it that noticeable? you thought "I'm okay thank you, Mr Norris, thank you" Looking at your shoes something more interesting at the moment "Well take the rest of the day off we have a big day tomorrow and call me Lando, not Mr Norris that was my father" laughing a little thinking about the confusion looking up from your shoes nodding your head quickly walking back to your office getting out of that situation you can't fall for the boss Lilly don't be stupid he's your old boss son!. telling yourself grabbing your belongings wanting to stay away from Lando for a few hours.

© pacifierbby works

𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 ✧˖*°࿐ @sltwins , @eloriis

[wayfayrr]

hey uh. if requests r open. would it b possible to request a follow up to that self-aware-twi fic. if not thats ok i just wanted u to know i havent stopped thinking about it since i read it. altered my brain chemistry, touch-starved twilight princess link my beloved, etc etc. ur writing is top-tier <3<3<3

I think the best part about this ask is - I've had this written since early January. I actually wrote part two as a birthday gift for a good friend of mine @glowyskull <33

So this is more just me finally posting it sfbgdfbgdb. it's also funny to think that the twilight fic is my most popular fic now considering how the self aware au really started as just a really guiltily self indulgent fic - something fun to write that I didn't think could get as big as it did on my blog. and I'm glad that you liked it so much <333 whimpery touch starved twilight princess link is just so AUGH love him so

[masterlist]

“Oh you’re finally wakin up then darlin’.”

“...hmm?”

“C’mon darlin’, you can’t have forgotten what happened earlier already? Can you? Your fever - cold isn’t that bad so you can't have…”

Who’s rambling… and why does it sound so familiar?  Wait does that mean - is everything that happened earlier all real then, did link really crawl out of my tv just because he was lonely. Because I left him there, left him all on his own to rot in his own solitude. 

“Link? You - that - everything was real then? All of it?”

“All of it darlin’, from how I got out to how I’m never gonna leave ya.”

“Huh..? I could’ve sworn that you didn’t even mention anything like that…”

“Mhm, well you’re ill and still a little out of it darlin’ so you probably just forgot, you did agree though.” 

It does sound like something that I would agree to, I mean I’m the reason that he’s sentient. It would be cruel of me to throw him to the other wolves, he isn’t from here but besides even that, he isn’t from here. He doesn’t know how this world works, it would be worse than sending a dog to a shelter. It would be his death sentence for certain, and after all that I put him through for a simple pause in playing. The way he’s petting my hair like this though, it’s enough to simply just wash the rest of my worries away, if I could I would spend the rest of my life right here easily.  

“About your illness though, do you have any red potion anywhere?” 

“No, no things like that don’t exist here link and the painkillers I have aren’t worth moving for.” 

“If you’re sure… I’ll go and get them for you the second you change your mind.”    

“You don’t even know where I keep them.” 

His hand paused at that, causing me to let out an involuntary whine. I couldn’t even think to stop it with how it slipped out instantly, which he seemed fond of. Cuddling me closer to his chest and resting his head on top of mine, with what felt like a giant smile on his face. 

“I can look for them, It’s not like I won’t need to learn where everything is now that I’m living with ya… besides I’ve already put you through so much stress when you’re not well.”

“You didn’t mean to link, how could you have known I was sick?”

“...I don’t know - I just - it shouldn’t have been hard to know with how you looked when you opened the game. I’m sorry love I just wasn’t even thinking I just wanted to be out, but I should’ve been more considerate to you.”

With how silent he is in the game you could never have guessed how much he likes to ramble, it’s the second or third time it’s happened since he crawled out of the glas- the glass. Are his bandages holding up, he seems fine but he’s not from here, any infection could be deadly. He wouldn’t even see it coming with how much he’s fawning over my comfort right now. 

“Link?” “Yes, darlin’?”

Oh wow, he - well he’s whipped already. Is it real love or has all that time trapped alone twisted him into this. I’d look into getting him therapy but… if he mentioned the truth then it would be a matter of seconds until he’d be diagnosed with something inaccurate. No one. No one at all would ever believe that a video game character actually broke out of their game - especially not someone like Link falling for an exhausted student like me.

“Are you feeling alright? You have so many cuts and wounds right now.”

“It’s nothing that’s worse than anything else I’ve ever had. They do feel more real though.”

“...real?”

“They feel like real wounds, not something that could be healed away in seconds and they’re just tiny scrapes.”He sounds so giddy as he’s talking about being hurt - it’s unnerving when he starts holding me even tighter when he’s saying it. I don’t think I’m ever going to be getting away from him ever again… if I wanted to. Why shouldn’t I take a chance at having a relationship though. He cares about me - he really does even if it’s unhinged - it would be so nice to come home to him, to be able to spoil him and be spoilt by him. Even being held like this feels so unreal, so impossible that I shouldn’t be here with him. So much so that I want to stay here and fall back asleep without any argument. Didn’t he even say he wanted to be my lover? Why look over a gift too closely?

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

I just got out of my psychology class and I kept having thoughts about Leon and how his mind works. Here’s a psychoanalysis on Leon bc I truly do like how his brain works:

TW: mentions of mental illnesses, substances, substance abuse, suicide. (Guys- I am not a medical psychologist or a medical psychiatrist. This is strictly based on my psychology class, take this with a grain of salt.)

Leon suffers from Combat and Violence Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). This type of PTSD (because there’s subcategories) is most often common in veterans and in men.

More often than not, one can tell when someone’s suffering PTSD (flat voice, substance abuse, inability to sleep, change in personality, etc.)

Leon in RE2/RE2R didn’t necessarily show signs of PTSD until after the events took place. Leon was too busy trying to survive that his brain shut off the emotions he was feeling “in the heat of the moment.” He was scared but it was his survival instinct that allowed him (or the player) to move forward. Hence why I think he also suffered from Depression and Acute Stress Disorder (ASD).

ASD is commonly found in patients with PTSD, ASD is kind of like the first stage after a traumatic event took place. PTSD victims often find themselves having frequent panic attacks. I think it would be safe to assume that Leon in RE2/RE2R had several panic attacks during or after Raccoon City. I don’t think he’d go to therapy/psychiatrist/psychologist because in RE4R he stated that he immediately got called to the White House after he survived RC. And this is where I think it got worse.

RE4 and RE4R both portray very distinct Leon characters. One is more “fine” than the other in short words. Leon in RE4og doesn’t necessarily show signs of having mental issues but maybe he’s just good at masking them. Leon in RE4og often finds himself being very witty or very lean back. He’s less serious but I think it’s a coping mechanism. Up to that point in his life, he’s been in very serious situations that I think this is his way of gaining some of that control he lost when the virus first started. His brain is fighting battles of being in control or letting others control him. In this case- the situation is controlling him. He wants to have that sense of individuality and most of the time this is a coping mechanism. To gain back some of the things he’s lost in the process.

In RE4R, however (and I’m going to be very bold with this one), we don’t know much about how he feels. He is flat and his demeanor is distant to an extent. I’ve noticed a few changes to him from when he first started the game to where the player made it halfway. In the beginning of the game (when he’s with the two Spanish cops) he’s similar to RE4og- sarcastic and a little unserious. Which can be guessed as his normal personality. He doesn’t really show how much he’s actually been through with those two strangers. He’s got better things to worry about- he neglects his own issues. When he tries to find Ashley and he sees the zombies again- his PTSD gets triggered and it makes him be able to pull the trigger (aside from the player lol) There are few types of reactions when PTSD gets triggered and I think Leon’s reaction is a bit depressing.

When Leon sees these zombies again, his brain automatically jumps back to the memories of Raccoon City and almost immediately finds himself back in his former self’s shoes. But he doesn’t have time to linger, he forces those thoughts away and keeps going. I don’t think he wants to have time to think about what just happened because he’s often trying to keep his brain occupied “sorry, must’ve slipped” or any other phrase he says makes me believe that he’s just trying to make himself laugh (because believe it or not, laughter really does help with mental issues) or he’s trying to make the situation seem lighter. Or maybe he’s in denial, his brain hasn’t processed that the same thing that happened in RC is happening all over again. And when you’re in denial, you are repressed. Sigmund Freud said that repression is when someone turns something (trauma, thoughts, events, feelings) away. They deliberately choose to cast their thoughts and feelings aside. Leon bottles his emotions, it’s his defense mechanism. He doesn’t smoke (as mentioned in the game) nor does he drink (there’s a Reddit post that perfectly summed it up for me) He knows substances aren’t good for you and the fact that he’s against them makes me believe that he has other ways of dealing with PTSD such as exercise. I’m not saying this just because Leon looks very built, I want to think that maybe half the reason he works out isn’t just for his job. I think it also because it helps him mentally.

Mobility, sleep, and nutrition are the most important things to keep yourself mentally and physically healthy.

I’ll get on to RE6 because in that game, he pulled a 180 imo. RE6 Leon is more empathetic. He cares about the people that could’ve survived. He suffers from survivor’s guilt. After RE4/RE4R, Leon probably became more aware of his struggles and has tried to deal with them. He’s become more human, he’s allowed himself to feel human. He’s still the same serious guy with the flat effect but he’s becoming more open about his thoughts and feelings. I think the game is trying to hint at us that MAYBE he’s getting better. (Guys this is a stretch okay. RE6 is lowkey messy)

Now on to the films (I’ve done the liberty of researching a ‘order’ of when these may have taken place and not by the release date order so you guys won’t get confused):

ID Leon: He’s very compassionate in this one. He has a sense of self righteousness but I know why. He wants to make up for the losses of the people he’s seen die. He wants to fight against the corporation and wants to end the spread (submarine scene when he talks about RC) He wants to make up for what he couldn’t save. (Hence why he didn’t give Claire the chip- he wanted to protect her because he cares for her)

Degeneration Leon: Protection can only go a long way. Leon is more… assertive in his objectives, if you will. He’s back in his RE4 days in other words (any of the two games tbh, this Leon is complex) Leon wants to keep fighting for his cause. Not only is he forced to be a soldier for the government but he also has found a drive. All his pent up PTSD and trauma has shifted into something else. If no one could’ve been the hero then HE’LL be the hero himself, does that make sense?

Damnation Leon: Haha Russia go brr (sorry) Again, he’s become more chill. When he’s with JD, he’s funny but still cautious (bc let’s be honest, JD could’ve still shot his ass) nothing much to comment, I think he’s been consistent since Degeneration.

Vendetta Leon: NOW WE GETTING JUICY. This man- this Leon is the epitome of what a relapse does to you. Leon is seen drinking away his problems. He’s relapsed back into the mentality where his brain is finally processing everything. He’s even tried to attempt suicide- that’s how bad he got. His PTSD, his ASD, depression (bc you can’t tell me he didn’t have depression) it all came back to him and it made him feel shitty. He lost his power over himself, he no longer feels useful. He feels empty and broken. That’s sh he drowns himself in his own sorrows. Because he’s learned that if you drink until you pass out, you don’t dream. He doesn’t sleep- no. He’d rather black out because when you’re in an unconscious state, you don’t dream at all. You’re simply just lying there on the floor with your eyes closed. And that’s the feeling Leon wants to feel. He wants to forget everything for one minute and just calm down. And alcohol does that to you, that’s why people with PTSD become addicted to substances.

DI Leon: homeboy somehow got better (I’ve yet to watch DI lol) but from what I’ve seen, he’s definitely back to his “normal” self. He probably learned that maybe living life is the best thing. That if his attempt would’ve succeeded, then he wouldn’t have been able to live to his fullest. Regret makes people do a lot of things and I think Leon matured and learned.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mad Season 🕸 Story A

Warnings: non/dubcon, social anxiety, chronic illness, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: this is Peter’s side of the story.

Summary: a class project gets messy. (short!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Peter walks you to your dorm. You stop by the door and chatter into the crisp air. He clings to your hand so you can’t find your keys. You hum nervously and face him. 

“I gotta go...” you say. 

“Can I come with you?” He whines. 

You laugh then choke on it, “wait! You can’t. Peter, you left your whole party.” 

“I don’t care about the party. I...” he smiles and his cheeks deepen another shade, “it was an excuse. I invited you so you wouldn’t catch on to how much I like you.” 

“Uh, oh,” you utter, “that’s... sweet.” 

“It’s stupid. I should’ve just told you.” He shakes his head. 

“But... well, I don’t know. I can understand why you didn’t,” you shrug. “Still, I... I should really go get some sleep.” 

“And leave me?” He pouts. 

“Peter, I’m... sorry.” You look away shyly. “I have roommates.” 

“I’m sure they bring boys home. And girls. Promise, it’s not anything bad. I just... do you know how long I’ve been dying to snuggle you?” 

“Me?” You exclaim, breathless. 

“God, I’m such a dope,” he shrugs bashfully. “Fine, alright, alright. I’ll leave ya alone. Walk home. In the cold... alone.” 

Your heart squeezes and your face sets alight. He was nice enough to come all this way. You feel bad saying no. 

“Alright, but you have to be quiet,” you warn him. 

“For you, I will be,” he promises. 

You shake your head and wiggle free of his grasp. You reach into your bag and take out your keys. He grabs onto your arm and shivers.  

“Starting to feel the cold now,” he chuckles. 

You unlock the door and pull it open. You hold it so he can catch it and he follows you inside. He clings to you as you take him upstairs and you stop again to get through the front door of your unit. You push inside cautiously and peek through to the hallway before you enter. 

As you take him down the narrow hall, you’re suddenly self-aware of every little thing. His dorm is so much nicer. Not as cramped and there’s no crack in the ceiling. 

You get to your door and bring him inside. It’s only then that you remember you’re wearing his coat. You put your boots on the mat as he finally lets go and he does the same. 

You shrug his jacket off and hang it over the back of your desk chair. You sling your purse with it as you sense his shadow moving around. You grab the blanket from the bed and offer it to him. He comes closer with a grin. 

He takes it and sweeps it around himself. Before you can react, he wraps you up in his blanketed arms and urges you back to the bed. He falls down with you, bouncing over you as he rolls you atop him. You squeal and steady yourself as he sinks into your cushy mattress. 

“Hey,” you gasp. 

“Can’t help myself,” he says. “I’m about to shiver my toes off.” 

“Ha, me too,” you giggle. 

He keeps you in his arms and you stop wriggling. He’s too strong to resist and you’re too weak. Besides, he isn’t trying anything. Just holding you. You try to relax and lower your head to his shoulder. He purrs. 

“Isn’t this nice?” He asks. 

“Sure,” you answer thinly. “Yeah, I think.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut as you feel his heartbeat. Or is that yours? 

Despite your nerves and the stressful night, it isn’t long before you drift off. It might be that Peter is so warm or that you’re so tired, but you wake up stiff and sore from an awkward doze atop him. You lift your head and groan as he snores softly beneath you. 

The grey morning peers in through the narrow space between your curtains. You shift off of Peter onto the bed beside him. His arm remains draped around you. You hate to wake him up but you have a study group and need to go grab a few essentials from the student grocery. 

“Morning,” he croaks and you flinch in surprise. 

“Oh, hi,” you blink at him as your dry throat tickles. “Ahem, erm, I need to...” you lift yourself but he pulls you back down. 

“Leaving me already?” He teases. 

“I need to take my meds,” you eke out. “Sorry.” 

“Meds?” He lets you go, his hand brushing against your hip. 

“Asthma,” you explain as you carefully pull away, dragging the blanket off of him. 

“Oh, brrrrr,” he chatters, “chilly in here.” 

“Yeah, a little,” you toss the comforter back over him and climb off the bed. 

You take your pills out of the small chest you keep on the wall shelf. You swallow your dose and go to your purse to check that your inhaler is there. As you glance at Peter, he’s watching you. 

“I thought it was just that thing,” he points at your hand. 

“Oh, uh,” you rattle the inhaler, “I wish. Not so bad. Not if I’m not stressed but college can be kinda... stressful.” 

“Right,” he sits up. “Well, now you got me. I can help with that.” He winks and your make a face. He laughs. “Get your mind out of the gutter. I meant you can vent to me. Tell me everything that stresses you out.” 

“Uh, right, well... I’m a bit anxious. I have a project to work on at the library at eleven, so--” 

“You’re kicking me out,” he frowns. 

“No, no, I’m not, just letting you know. That’s all. I wouldn’t.... wouldn’t kick you out.” 

Your chest tightens and you instinctively shake the inhaler. You suck on it and cough. He moves to the edge of the bed. 

“Am I stressing you out?” 

You clear your throat and shake your head, “no, the air’s dry.” 

“You sure?” He goes to stand then moves the blanket slightly and stays seated. 

“Yeah, sure. Sorry. I just... worried about homework.” 

“About that, when are we getting together for ours? If your free tonight, I can order us dinner to the lab. It will be romantic but productive,” he suggests. 

“Erm, I’ll see how study group goes,” you say. “Do you want some tea?” 

“No coffee?” He grumbles. 

“Sorry, but I can run to the cafe. It’s just a block or two to campus.” 

“Nah, I’m good. What kinda tea you got?” He asks. 

“Let me check,” you smile. 

Before you can turn away, you notice how he moves carefully and stands. He keeps hold of the blanket and subtly reaches beneath. He tugs on his pants and rolls his weight from one foot to the other. You quickly look away. 

Tea! 

[mawlbone]

MARKED MINES - NIKTO

SNIPPET: The lingering sensation of pain is more than enough proof that you’re human enough to still feel the sharp sting of pain when you feel there’s no one there to hold you in all your numbness.

[CW: gender neutral reader, dom reader, mean reader, kidnapper reader, manipulative reader, insecure nikto, soft sex, dehumanization, stockholm syndrome, dubcon, unhealthy codependent relationship, mention of sh scars and brief vivid description of previous sexual assault (not from nikto and reader), vomit, water boarding, knifeplay, masochist nikto, mild bloodplay, self depreciating thoughts, scarring, degradation, marking, touch-starved nikto, forced proximity, dry-humping, and lots of cuddling and a Kreuger appearance.]

[COMMENT: If you are sensitive to the topics listed above, I recommend you to read my other fics because yes, the warnings are heavy in this one. What is a happy ending is subjective to the reader’s opinion.]

Time touches all that is living. It’s the simplest fact that all men know.

It’s ever so present with the way the young burst into towering adults, the way they mature with fine lines growing onto one’s face, and the greying hair that sparkle onto one’s head once they turn back into little old creatures. But for all what time can touch, it cannot heal all wounds as much as the people like to preach it from their mighty ground that everything will eventually be alright.

Does it truly?

For what the brain cannot remember, the body pays in tenfold.

So it’ll desire a release. A means to end an illness all stuck in your head as a desperate measure to prove it’s all real and still there. Why else would one’s body constantly clutch over in pain trying to piece the fragments of an once clear image? All that stress, all that anger, and all those tears makes a terrible sight for everyone. It’s shameful. It’s not like one can control these emotions, much to the disappointment of the world.

Time comes and goes, and it’ll forever leaves everyone behind in its mess. For time does not heal all wounds. All it does is make you forget in the obscurity of itself.

Maybe that’s why Nikto is so desperate to be around people. People are permanent. People are alive. But why does he always feel so lonely in the company of others, even when he tries to escape it by fleeing to the emptiness of other rooms. Maybe it’s himself that he cannot stand to be around, he thinks as he collapses into the bushes, hissing as he clutched his stomach feeling the bullet inside his flesh. A failed mission, he was left behind. His fault for not paying attention.

It’s fine.

He’ll just make his way back again once he recover, he thinks, just barely dragging his body, following the lights in the woods to a little house hidden amongst the grasping branches of the forests.

Hopefully a good samaritan is nice enough to house him for a little while.

—

You always wanted a pet.

For all your assortment of critters you had over the years, despite all the love and care you can put into ensuring they get the best meals and enrichment. All of them had inevitably die to the hands of the clock and left in heartache.

Your family suggested that you find something else to accompany you instead, tired of you griefing over every animal you ever had. Young and old, big or small, fur or scales.

Animals are not meant for a human lifespan, no matter how long humans tried to domesticate them. So people were naturally your next choice, but a lifelong companion never last long anyways as much as you like to try again and again. Many failed dates, whether through online dating apps or setups from your friends all ultimately failed. None of them were half as loving or loyal as any ol’ hound you had before.

Hell, if anything they were worse.

So when a thump was heard at your door, you can only hold in a squeal seeing a collapsed man at your door. All big and brawny, a perfect pet. How perfect, you thought as you pulled your back to drag the man inside your home and down into your basement.

You don’t receive much visitors nowadays, simply hunting and fishing around the area to occupy yourself. Isolating yourself to the ends of the woods was what you prefer to the bustle of the city life. So nobody should mind if you keep another pet, right?

You got a big enough kennel for him down there, he’ll be all healthy again once you get that bullet sorted out.

—

Like all strays, Maybe you should had expected your new dog to be so reactive once he woke up bounded to your bed, cussing and all as he tugged against the chains holding his ankles back from grasping the bars of his cage. It was fairly spacious, if anything, more than what you’ll usually give, but the whole basement was designed to keep some guy’s exotic pet collection once before, so you suppose this dog of yours still perfectly suits the room’s purpose.

But damn was he a bitch to handle, biting your fingers every time you tried to feed him, barking at you whenever you tried to bond with him and even threating to kill you, calling you disgusting and pervert for keeping him down here. Seething anytime you come down to check on him and saying his men will come find him and torture you for what you done to him.

How mean.

That didn’t stop him from crying though when you held him down to clean him up, too weak to fight back from constantly spitting out your food as he shivered at the cold water wiping away the mess. There’s no bathroom in the basement after all, only a bucket to relieve himself in.

As much as, what your dog, Nikto, which he liked to calls himself, likes to bark at you. You learned he was terribly easy to break, absolutely despising being alone as you watched him from your cameras down below.

The constant whines, the pleading, the lack of time down there made it all too easy within the darkness of the room. You’ll watch him hold himself tight as his arm cling tight around his head or chest to protect himself crying and screaming, demanding you to come down. If you’re lucky enough, you’ll find him whimpering quietly trying to relieve himself to ease his stress.

At first, he’ll turn his back to the camera trying to get off as he whines into the room unable to get his fix. But no longer he cares anymore once you dropped several of your old pillows and blankets to comfort him and watching him snuggle against them, a pillow settled underneath his hips to rut against as he presses into nose to your things.

What a freak, you thought as he watched him sigh and mewl so prettily, even taking a hand back to thrust back into his own fingers. Biting into the blankets to muffle his screams when he finally got his release.

But you’re impatient. You want a companion still.

His reactions were fun for you to bully him with every time you came down to tease him. You made it a routine to drop many of his meals off and leaving for multiple days on end to fuck with his concept of time. Seconds turn into hours, and days turn into months as you lied about what day is it everytime you come down. But eventually it got tiring, you gotbored with the same response over and over again anytime you try to be nice to Nikto.

Perhaps it’s true that you’re not fated for a lifelong companion, maybe this dog is not meant to be yours. So you gave up on him.

Your final test was when you left the cell and basement door ajar, no word directed at Nikto as he whined at you to let him go still. His voice softer, weaker now with the lack of water you give him after splashing his glass onto you. If he doesn’t want to stay here, fine. You won’t keep such an ungrateful thing here anymore if he keeps fighting back at you. You had a work trip to go to anyways back at the city.

He could be freed and gone from your house for all you could care once when you arrived back.

Though the last thing you could had expected was the sight of him sitting on your porch, just like the day you find him, dazed as you pulled into the driveway. Naked with nothing more his briefs and blanket strapped over his shoulders as he stared at you blankly, whining at you once more to ask why you left him as fat tears fall down his face.

You watch his struggle to stand up, wobbling as his hands reach outward trying to grasp you and apologizing for behaving so badly to you.

Oh… He thinks you’re a hallucination, you thought as he cutely stumbles over to you, sniffing in his sobs as he loudly cries your name. Looks like he’s could still be good dog after all, you hummed to yourself as you walked forward to allow him to collapse against you, taking him back to your house once more.

Finally he is properly broken in and all yours.

—

For what little Nikto can remember, between the grasps of many nitrile blue hands clenching his face and the sting of scalpels pushing onto his skin as if he was a human pincushion, he cannot for the life of him remember the faces of the many men that held him in that icy metal chair those long nights once ago.

A blessing or a curse?

He is unsure.

Perhaps he was too preoccupied in that moment taking in the circumstances of his fate as he rattled in those chains hissing from the sharp stings of thin cuts lined across his stomach as he is forced to endure hearing the laughter of the crowd that surrounded his form splashing him with cold water running down his naked form.

In that time, he was a showstopper. Their entertainer for them to please as they push and pull him all around. So it’s no wonder when he had threw up so violently over himself that he knocked himself out once those nitrite blues started crawling down his hips and grasping at his skin to cut further into. He remembers nothing further of that eventful day but the fade of hysterical laughter will always be drilled into his ears.

He doesn’t know who he is without his trauma anymore. It’s almost intimate to him of how he feels reassured with the numerous scars decorating his skin. It’s something that had become whom he is.

Almost a lover.

But, how do you explain that to someone? It’ll seem like to anyone that he doesn’t want to get better but he already lost so much of himself. He had already become so familiar with this sight that its disappearance will toss him further back into the ends of his mind to find himself back. This sight, these scars are what’s left of him, a reminder that’s he’s still undeniably human and one of them, one of you.

Back in the basement, at least you didn’t hit him, taunt him, or stop feeding him.

You’re different. You always allow him to touch you and he’ll feel soft skin, and not latex on his fingers. Instead of drills and mocking laughter, there’s you peering down on him and praising him and giving him easy affections as you pat down and take care of all his wounds.

Maybe that’s what he finds so fascinating about this sight, Nikto thinks as he watches you bandage his arms, gently scolding him after catching him picking his scabs all bloody again in the bathroom that night, deciding to not punish him.

He doesn’t know why he did it.

You two just had a nice romp that afternoon with you spoiling him hours on end. Constantly cuddling and caressing his face, even giving him plenty of attention to his dick, easing him from the mess of his mind. Every sweet croon of your voice as you squeezed him dry had him gasping for air, head too full of that overwhelming pleasure as you bullied him to tears as you pushed him over and over to spill over your hand until he was empty, leaving him fuzzy enough to sleep as you cleaned and kiss his cries quiet. A reward for behaving so well, you said.

So why did he had to go and fuck it all up and ruin all your trust, he was doing so well!

Was it to remind himself that good things don’t last long when he snuck out the bed that hour, that this much happiness doesn’t belong to him, that he needed a relief to remind him of whom he was? What he came from?

He isn’t sure.

None of the rest do either.

Despite your best efforts to help him from his vices, as nowadays, you help him shave after telling you doesn’t trust himself with something so sharp near his face anymore. Sweetly enough, you said you don’t mind him hairy anyways if he so wishes to keep it that way, it’s cute, as you smoothed your terribly warm hands on his chest and patting it like he’s some big dog.

Humiliating.

But damn if he’s isn’t enjoying your attention as you cradled his face, calling him your good boy and how he’s still cute and all even when his face is obscured by his mask and saying it’s little happy hoodie to calm him down, you said once day, dropping multiple pairs on the bed for him to try on. Even allowing him to gather your clothes to sleep with. Compared to before, the comfort of the mattress in your bedroom does wonders to his body compared to the one from the basement, as he rumbles happily as you scratch his tummy and letting him thump against the cushion all tucked up in your lap as you watched some old television.

He’s undeniably warm and full from dinner hours ago, too sated with all the heat surrounding but that didn’t stop his stomach from dropping once you place a knife on his tummy.

Your neck is already littered with his marks: from the long scratches down your back, the cheeky playful nips at your fingers, and the dark bruises littering your throat. You know he likes claiming you. But you always wondered if he would had liked a more permanent mark on him from you.

“Nikto”, he’ll hear you speak ever so softly as you dragged the blade against his stomach.

Your breath is hot and heavy, against the back of his neck. You can feel him shiver at the coldness of the blade against his skin goosebumps arise from it. Your voice is clear as you dragged the sharpened weapon against, he’s deadly still.

“Would you mind if I place my initials here”, as you pointed the tip of the blade just a hair away from piercing into him

Fuck…

Yeah he would like that.

He will really like that.

Belonging somewhere, belonging to you. It’ll means you won’t abandon him. You’re just proving that. Anyone one who can see it will know he belongs to you. You can only laugh at seeing the tent forming in his pants as you pulled his shirt away, ensuring you wipe your hands and his skin clean with an alcohol wipe clean before placing on a glove to ensure his wound won’t get infected.

You’ll be a bad owner after all if he got too hurt.

As you settled better behind him, back pressed your chest, it will be your own little secret between him and you, whenever he can see your initials as you gently press the knife against his stomach, ensuring you are pressing into the meat of his lower tummy. No need to actually kill your doggie by cutting too deep, you’ll be a careless owner then.

Slow and precise, you made sure to keep a hand on Nikto’s chest so he won’t move as your made your cuts onto his skin. One by one, a letter formed onto his skin as Nikto hitched his breath, feeling the familiar sharp stings pressing onto his skin.

Soon enough, you were finished with your work as you wiped away the blood and begin cleaning yourself up as you cleaned the cuts with some alcohol spray and pressing a bandage over it. All while praising your boy for behaving so well as Nikto pants away as he grips onto your arm for comfort.

You’ll laugh seeing the tent in his jeans as you cooed the man for behaving so well, though you had to swat away Nikto’s hands from pressing down on the wound, however assuring him that since it’s only light cuts that it’ll heal soon and he can admire it later. As he lift his head up, you had little moments to prepare yourself as he flipped himself over to tackle you onto the bed, licking your face as he nuzzled into your neck thanking you for keeping him.

Time will touch all that is yours, but perhaps it will allow you to keep Nikto until your eventual end.

How sweet.

Though you will have to do something about that strange little green netted man who keeps popping up in your woods and disrupting your traps.

Maybe you’ll ought to get Nikto a little friend to occupy himself. He did say something about his men finding you.

The more the merrier, right?