#like. um. Maybe? she should have taken me aside and. talked to me about it? LIKE AN ADULT??

[strohller27]

.

[abbyshands]

Good nigth darling,you're okay?can we have more nerdy!abby pleaase i beg you 🙏🙏🙏(srry for my inglish)

teach me

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

a/n; hello, my love! i’m good, and i hope you are too! of course EEK i was going to write more for her anyway, i love a nerdy girl. also this is cut off asf I’M SORRY i’m tired, maybe i’ll do a part 2 if y’all ask <3

synopsis; you’ve never been good at science, let alone college biology. when your professor all but forced you to get a tutor, who should you end up with but your nerdy girlfriend, who has a very unique way of getting you to study?

pairing; dom!abby anderson x sub!fem!reader

warnings; abby uses baby/princess, use of a strap-on, cockwarming + edging (kinda), abby refers to the strap as her dick and it’s referred to as her dick/cock, choking, spanking, degradation (ish. abby’s tone is just mean), anddd i prob missed smt so lmk <3

wc; 2.2k

p.s.; ALSO this is was ib an ellie fic i saw bro idk where tf it is 😭 searching for it tho. i js remember it was nerdy ellie. it was so good BUT LIKE WHERE IS ITTT idk i’ll link it here if i find it

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

you’ve always sucked at science. biology, chemistry, whatever the hell it was, it had never been your cup of tea.

your professor had not so kindly recommended you get a tutor. otherwise, your grades would decline (more than they already were, that is). you didn't want a tutor, let alone for it to be someone you didn't know. you were already feeling awkward enough having to have someone tutor you at all—you couldn't imagine if it was by an unfamiliar.

that's where abby came in.

abby anderson was your girlfriend, and she was a nerd. like, cliche movie nerd. if you couldn't find her in her dorm, with you, or in class, she was at the library, doing homework until she couldn't anymore. she was a coffee addict with how late she was up each evening, study sessions, unnecessarily reviewing, and, again, homework.

let's just say, abby anderson would do crazy things for an a.

you didn't necessarily want to have abby as your tutor. for some reason, it was embarrassing to you. you had already felt that way when you told her you needed one at all. it would be 10x worse if she would be the one doing it.

not only that, the focus.

how the fuck were you going to focus when you have abby fucking anderson in front of you? when your mind races with memories of her fucking you from behind, or kissing down your neck, or making you the wettest you've ever been, just by being alive?

you weren't.

but abby was persistent. you had originally said no when she first asked to tutor you, but when the guy who was supposed to tutor you didn't even show for your first session, it was no longer a request.

it was a demand.

you were sitting beside abby in her dorm, working on an assignment for your biology class that was due the following day. you had taken up to ten breaks by now, and it had only been an hour and a half or so.

abby pushed her glasses up on her face as she looked over at you, eyebrow raised. you had been dozing off, elbow on the desk and chin on your palm as your eyes began to fall shut.

"hey," abby snapped her large hand in front of your face, making your eyes open again just as quickly as it had happened. "are you listening to me?"

no.

"yeah. yeah, sorry, i just, um—dna and rna. that's what we're learning now, right?" you ask confusedly, doing your best to make it seem like you know what you’re talking about.

but the look on abby's face tells you all you need to know.

"mhm, like, ten minutes ago," abby hums a bit annoyedly, and you can't help but let out a sigh. it's bad enough you have to be here at all, but letting abby down, or worse, pissing her off, was the last thing you wanted to do. “you're never going to learn if you don't put any effort in," she sighs.

“c’mon, abs,” you whined as you set your pencil aside, putting your head down on the desk, eyes on abby. the blonde set her own pen down with a small shake of the head, expression unreadable. “i can’t do this anymore,” you said dramatically. abby rolled her eyes.

“what’s wrong now?” abby asked, but it’s not like she really wanted to know the answer. you knew how seriously abby took her own schoolwork, which may be the reason she was annoyed that you didn’t. but you just weren’t like that.

“none of this makes sense. i can’t remember a thing we go over. god, i hate biology,” you complained once more, looking away from abby.

abby sighed as she put a hand on your shoulder. as much as she wanted to be annoyed, she loved you, and she knew full well that even if you were smart, biology was your worst class.

“what can i do to help, baby? flashcards, d’you want me to quiz you? what do you need?” abby asked as she moved her hand to your back, rubbing it. you shrugged.

“i dunno. i don’t think any of that stuff is going to help me, abby. my memory’s—not that good,” you lamely huffed, but it was true. your memory was best when it came down to the things you cared for. college biology was not one of them.

“hm,” abby hummed. it took a beat, a small pause. but then, abby’s perked eyebrows told you that she had just gotten an idea, and so did the way her plump lips curled into a grin.

“i think i know what’ll do the trick.”

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

that’s how you ended up on abby’s lap, her cock buried deep inside of you as she gripped you by the bottom. abby’s way of bettering your sour memory came in the form of one of the most agonizing experiences you had ever had.

“how does dna differ from rna?” abby asks you casually, as if she isn’t filling you to the brim. you feel your face getting hot, bottom lip bitten down on as you look at her nervously.

“u- uhm. d- dna has a d- double helix model, fuck,” you whine. you must be at least a little correct, because abby bucks her hips up into you, causing the silicone dildo to move inside of you. “rna’s single, a- and involved in a different process than dna.”

“attagirl,” abby praised. it’s then that she grabbed you by the ass, hard, and forced you to ride up to the top of her dick, just before she’s slamming you back down. for only a few seconds, you gain some pleasure by moving your body like that, or abby doing it for you, that is.

but then, she’s robbing it away from you, just like that.

“a- abby, please, c’mon,” you whimper. this had been going on for a third of an hour or so. abby would ask you a question from the deck of index cards she had made for you, and you would answer. simple, right?

wrong.

because here's the thing: she wouldn’t move unless you answered her, and it had to be correct. and if not?

smack.

abby's large hand comes down on your ass as if to shut you up. really, it doesn't. you let out a moan as she then grabs your ass again, not giving a care to how sore you may be.

because she's already slapped you way too many times to count.

“don't act like this isn't for your own good," she says firmly, reprimanding you. "you got that one wrong last time. and we’re not going to stop until you’ve got that whole fucking deck memorized, you got that?” she asks, signaling to the forgotten pile of index cards on the desk behind you. you whine, body too achy for abby to deny her.

“f- fine," you whine, because who the hell would you be to say no?

“good girl," abby praises as she rubs her hands over your bottom, caressing you in a loving manner, a wide difference to the way she was addressing you mere seconds before. "now, can you tell me what a neuron is?”

doing your best to not focus on the feeling inside you, you nod, and easily answer. “a- a neuron—" you huff. "is a specialized cell.”

abby moves her hands to your hips and pushed you up, so that you're around halfway down on her cock. you let out a small shudder, but it must mean you're correct. “and what’s it do?” abby then asks.

to some degree.

but you know this one. after all, it was one of the last cards you looked at in the deck. so, you respond, “transmit.”

abby moves you up more, and this time, she brings one of her hands up to cup your tit. she plays with your nipple if only for a second, causing you to let out a low moan. but just when you think she's going to keep going, of course, she doesn't.

“transmit what?” she asks firmly as her fingers caress your rib cage, and it's all you can do not to roll your eyes.

“nerve impulses," you say a bit too fast, eager to have her hands back on you. your neediness helped you on that one. "i- it’s the basic unit of the nervous system," you add, for good measure.

"that's right, princess," abby smirked, course she did. she had always had way too much fun when she was driving you crazy during sex. this was no different.

but you're pleased to find yourself rewarded, because abby allows you to ride her again. you move up and down a little quickly, scared that your girlfriend will rob you of the feeling before it's even begun. abby begins to rub your clit as she gazes at you fucking yourself on her dick, way too needy for her touch.

"eager girl," abby cooed, rubbing her index on your clit in quick circles. "so needy for my cock, aren't you?"

"yes," you huff out fast, eyes closing shut at the feeling under you.

"too bad."

abby shoves you all the way back down her dick, so that you're all the way back down at the base. it pleasures you for only a second, before the feeling vanishes, just like that.

"abby, f- fuck," you groan annoyedly, body begging for a release you know abby won't give you unless you do what she tells you to do.

and she doesn't like your words.

abby grabs you by the neck, forcing you to look at her as you roll your eyes in the brattiest manner she's ever seen from you. "look at me. look at me when i'm talking to you," and she uses that tone you know she only uses when she's not playing games, barking your full name out at the end like the word pains her tongue.

once she's got your eyes on her, she speaks once more. "if you really want this dick, and i know you do, you're gonna take what i give you like the good girl you are. that clear?"

you keep your eyes on her, scared of what will happen if you don't, face hot as you answer. "y- yes, ma'am."

"primary use of the kidneys?" abby asks, not even giving you praise for obeying her. but you're not at all surprised by that: if there was one thing about abby, she did not like your bratty side.

this time, unlike what abby's asked you before, you can't remember the answer to this. like, at all. you fumble with it for a second, digging through your head for what it could be. but you don't get a response.

"i- i don't know," you dumbly stutter, genuinely unsure of what to say. abby isn't having it, obviously, because one mlre spank is coming down onto your ass before you know it.

"f- fuck!" you whine brokenly, head rocking back, and bottom sore from each hit abby's given you. she doesn't seem to care.

"yes, you do," she all but growls at you, and you think of your real class all too quickly, like she's your professor. "we went over this. so fucking tell me," she says, and it only makes your abdomen churn more.

and fill with butterflies.

“s- something to do with b- blood pressure, right? c- controlling it? please say yes," you were begging more to yourself than to abby, not even sure where that answer came from.

“mhm, and what else?" she coos, doing what she's done a million times before: moving you halfway up her cock.

"i- i don't know, abs. can't remember," you mutter, and really, how could you by now?

it looks like abby is feeling a little generous this time, because she helps you along. "what’s it do to your body, princess? begins with an 'r',” she asked.

even when your brain begins to fog up with all of the questions in your head, and what's happening besides that, it seems to click for you when abby says the letter 'r.' “r- regulates it? th- the fluid balance?”

“mhm," abby says with a small nod of approval, even kissing your chest this time as a reward.

"there’s my smart girl.”

and it goes on like that forever, question, answer, question, answer. sometimes, you got abby's cock easily. most times, you weren't so lucky.

your eyes are drooping, body aching and face hot as you stutter out the answer to the final card in the deck. once you do, you let out a deep, long exhale, which makes abby chuckle.

"see, pretty girl? wasn't that bad, was it?" abby coos, putting her hand up to cup your cheek. obviously, you want to say no. but after all of this, it was too risky to be bratty to abby. so you shake your head.

and you hadn’t even finished yet.

"n- no, it was—fine," you lie, and abby knows you are. but she doesn't ask about it, knowing full well how much she's done to you already.

"look on the good side.”

“you'll remember better now, won't you?"

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

reblogs are very much welcomed <3

———

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Amon's daughter who hasn't ever been allowed to bend other than in secret and subtle blood bending finally being allowed to do it... But it turns out she doesn't know how to water bend - only blood bend - and even trying almost make her go into a panic attack, until her father's old enemy (Korra) helps her overcome her fears and anxiety. Enemies to lovers, maybe?

Gifted with Impurity

|| Avatar Korra x fem!reader

|| Warnings: mentions of blood bending, descriptions of an anxiety attack, enemies to lovers, subconscious manipulation

|| Summary: reader is the daughter of Amon. Your father only ever allowed you to use blood bending, after your father's defeat you seek the help of Avatar Korra to get back what you have lost.

Requests open!

~~~

It's been a week since Avatar Korra defeated your father, to say you were at a loss of what to do now would be an understatement. The Equalists followers that remained had tried pressuring you into being their next leader. The next Amon. You couldn't bring yourself to do that; you didn't share the same values your father did. In your opinion, bending was a gift that should be shared with the world. Not taken away. You yourself were gifted with the ability to bend. Though, because of the way your father trained you, you were only ever able to subtly use blood bending to get people to submit to him. You hated doing that, you wanted to use your water bending but you were never allowed and in turn lost the ability to do so. Which lead you to where you stood now.

Air Temple Island.

You hoped that maybe the Avatar could show you how to water bend, though you were almost 99% sure you'd just be turned away the moment she laid eyes on you. You and Korra have fought before, with her defeating you. The only reason you had even fought was because your father had used you as a distraction so he could escape. Pushing the past aside, you took a breath and knocked heavily on the front door in hopes that someone would actually hear it. There was a long pause before Tenzin opened the door and stared down at you with a look you couldn't quite understand. He went to close the door but you quickly stopped it before he could, giving him a pleading look.

"Wait! Please! Just hear me out!" You practically begged the Air bending Master. Hands clasped together at your chest, which made him sigh deeply in response.

"Very well." He stepped aside and let you into the Temple, bringing you to an empty seating area. He sat down and when you didn't he gestured for you to sit across, so hesitantly you did. He doesn't say a word as he watches you, waiting for you to speak first.

"I know what my father has done-" You paused when he raised an eyebrow at you and sighed," -what I have taken part of... I'm not proud of any of it. I don't share the same beliefs as he did. I believe bending is a gift. Which is why I have come to request help from Avatar Korra. I- um..." You bit down on your bottom lip slightly, fidgeting with your fingers in your lap. Blood bending was illegal. You couldn't exactly talk about it, especially not to someone like Tenzin. He seemed to understand what you were implying; even without having to say it, as he gave you a nod to continue. So you did.

"Water bending was something I was never allowed to do. Because of that I've lost the ability. I was hoping Avatar Korra could help me find it again." You finish your explanation.

There was a long silence before Tenzin finally responds. "That decision will lay entirely in the hands of the Avatar. Should she decide you unfit to train, I heavily suggest you listen and step back."

"I understand." You nodded and gave Tenzin a slight bow, hands rested on your knees as you sat with your legs crossed.

Tenzin stood and left the room, leaving you to assume he's gone to find Korra. A few long moments pass before the door slides open, revealing Avatar Korra who's eyes widen at the sight of you. You quickly stood and held your hands gently out in front of you, ready to get into a defensive position in case she attacked.

"Please, I'm not here to fight-"

"Oh really? Yeah and I'm not the Avatar." She scoffed and rolled her eyes at you, arms folded across her chest as she gave you an intense glare. You swallowed thickly, remembering your last fight with her and how easily she overwhelmed you with her attacks. You prayed you wouldn't have to fight her again.

"I promise. I am not my Father. The only reason we fought before was because he forced me to be a distraction." You explained, hoping she would be understanding. Silence fills the room and you brace for the worse, but she surprises you.

"You get one chance. If you mess up, I won't hesitate to feed you to Naga." She pointed her finger at you as her eyes narrowed. Whatever a Naga was, you didn't know. But you weren't exactly eager to find out so you quickly nodded your head.

You were greatly relieved she gave you a chance.

~~~

The next day marked the start of your water bending training with Avatar Korra. To say you were nervous... that was laying it on lightly. You weren't sure there was actually a word that could describe how you were feeling. This wasn't right. You shouldn't be doing this. It was a gift of impurity. A sin that washed over your body...

Your father's words echoed through your mind as you stood in a classic water bending position, Korra watching from next to you. Your chest began to rise and fall quickly, the world around you feeling small. Cramped. Tight. Impure.

"I-I- can't-" You stuttered out, Korra quickly turned her attention to you rather than watching your hands, as she had been waiting to see you start bending. Concern took over her features and her hand went to your shoulder.

"Hey, hey. Just breathe." She tells you, the softness in her tone caught you off guard. A drastic change from the harshness from before.

"This isn't- I shouldn't-" Your thoughts scrambled together, making it impossible for you to form any coherent sentences. Your throat felt tight, breathing seeming like a command you couldn't complete. As you stood feeling frozen to the ground beneath you.

That's all it took for Korra to suddenly understand why you were so freaked out. Even if you saw bending as a gift, your father's values still laced in your subconscious mind. Twisting your own beliefs into a mirror of his. Her hand gripped your shoulder a little tighter, hoping the feeling of something physical. Something real. Could ground you. "It's okay. You're okay. Amon has no control over you. You can bend. I believe in you."

Her words circled through your mind, fighting off the words of your Father. The grip she had on your shoulder being enough for you to find your centre. Maybe not completely, but you could breathe again. Breathing was a start. You focused on that and the sound of Korra's voice until you no longer felt frozen to the ground. In one fast, sudden motion you had pulled the Avatar into a tight hug. Surprising her.

"Woah- okay- we're hugging now-" Korra said, giving your back a pat. She didn't know what else to do since it had caught her off guard.

You clung to her for a moment. Taking in the closeness of the two of you. The way her arms stretched out awkwardly at her sides, only one of her hands touching your back in an attempt at a soothing gesture. After a moment longer you let go and looked at her. You didn't notice, but there was a soft blush on her cheeks as she looked at you now. You did however recognize the awkwardness in her expression as it dawns on you how impulsive your hug had been. Even you didn't expect to do that.

A heavy crimson floods your cheeks and you look away, hand going to your neck as you scratch it slightly. Feeling the awkward tension between the two of you.

"So! Water bending! It's really simple, just connect with the flow and soon enough you'll have the water doing what you want." A hand rested to Korra's hip whilst the other gave you a finger gun, she was trying to ease the awkwardness. You could tell. It didn't really work though you appreciated her efforts.

"Right..." You glanced down at the barrel of water next to the two of you and then looked at Korra," Maybe a physical demonstration?"

"Totally! No problem." Korra nodded, the awkwardness still lingering as she got in a water bending stance and eased the water out of the barrel to flow around her body. Her hand moved towards the sky and the water followed suit. You realized then how easy it would be for her to attack you right now. You swallowed, trying to push that thought aside so you didn't spiral again. Though as you watched how effortlessly she manipulated the water, you couldn't help thinking about it.

She smirked and did flick a splash of it in your direction, as a teasing manner. You lifted an arm to shield your face. You couldn't help but laugh at how unserious she was now. Considering you've only ever seen her in battles, you never would have thought there was a playful side to her. You smiled at the brunette.

"Was that necessary?"

"Oh, absolutely." Korra smiled back, letting the water fall back into the barrel as her arms fold across her chest. Looking rather smug and proud of herself. You rolled your eyes," Go on."

She encourages you to try bending the water. Taking a shaky breath, you ground yourself. Hands in front of you as you gently lift your left hand, trying to pull the water upwards. A small swish. No other reaction or sign of movement. You grit your teeth and try harder until a bead of sweat drips down the side of your face. Your hand moving up faster now out of frustration, the water reacting to your emotions. It shoots out of the barrel at fast speeds and right for Korra. She blinks in surprise and quickly unfolds her arms, bending the water against your own movements and forcing it to hover in place. Inches from her body. She sighs deeply and looks at you.

"The hell was that?" Korra asked, her full guard up now as she looks at you. You tense.

"I'm sorry- I forgot how reactive it was to emotions..." You admit, a blush coating your cheeks as you look down in embarrassment.

Korra shakes her head and drops the water back in the barrel. Looking at you in a studying way, you assumed she was checking to see if you were lying. If that was really some hidden attack plan you had come up with.

"Just be more careful next time. Alright?"

You relax when you hear 'next time'. That meant she was still going to train you. Even after that little mixup.

~~~

A few weeks go by. Korra's been training with you every other day, helping you master water bending. In turn the two of you have grown close to each other. Close enough that you've developed a crush on one another, both too nervous to say anything about it.

One particular day, Bolin catches you watching Korra train with a love sick grin plastered across your face. He gives you a knowing look and comes to stand beside you. Hand resting to your shoulder, which startles you as you hadn't even seen him approach. Bolin gives you an apologetic look.

"You should talk to her." He says, you tense. Were your feelings for Korra that obvious? The correct answer was yes. Everyone but Korra could tell.

"What if I just make a fool out of myself?"

Bolin laughs and smiles at you. "Y/N, Korra likes you, too. She hasn't stopped talking about you all week."

"Are you sure? What if-"

"Dude! You gotta stop overthinking it. She's obsessed with you, you gotta trust me." Bolin interrupts you and you sigh, hesitating before nodding your head.

"Alright. Yeah. If it goes wrong I'm blaming you, Bolin." You smirk at him before walking over to Korra. Watching as she trains. The way her muscles flex... you shake your head. Focus.

Korra stops her movements and looks at you with a wide smile as she waves," Hey! Y/N! Wanna spar?"

"Actually, there was something else I was hoping we could do." You fold your arms loosely in front of your stomach, Korra tilts her head at you in confusion.

"Yeah. Totally, what is it?"

You feel your cheeks flush. Were you really about to ask out the Avatar? You look back at Bolin who smiles and gives you two encouraging thumbs up. You sigh and look at Korra again," do you want to go on a date? We could go see a mover or something..."

"A date?" Korra blinks in surprise, then her smile widens as a blush forms on her cheeks," I'd love to!"

Her enthusiasm catches you off guard and you suppress a giggle," really?"

"Yeah! What idiot wouldn't want to go on a date with you?" She gives you a playful nudge and the laugh you tried stifling escapes your lips. Korra did always have a habit of making you laugh. You appreciated that about her.

"Alright. Then it's a date."

~~~

Lmk if y'all would be interested in a part 2! This is my first time writing for Korra so I hope y'all like it! Feel free to send other Legend of Korra requests my way too, just check out my masterlist blog first!

[girlgenius1111]

that night was a mistake.

from a request for a childhood friends to lovers fic with Ona and reader :)

I had intended for this to be... significantly shorter and significantly less angsty but this is what I came up with and i'm rolling with it.

there will be at least one more part

tw. homophobia [not accepting parents]. panic attack. no smut... yet.

The news of Ona signing onto play at Barca should not have filled your stomach with butterflies, but it did. It should have just been an exciting piece of information to receive , but it wasn't. Instead, it sent you spiraling back to your youth, your confusing friendship with Ona. The way you'd left things. It had been a while since you'd seen each other, really seen each other. You'd stepped away from the national team like everyone else had, but unlike Ona, you had not gone back. Even then, you hadn't been around her much since you'd both played on the Barcelona B team. Since you'd so incredibly, so inexplicably fucked things up. The idea of seeing Ona again, not just for a week or two, but every day, was more than a little overwhelming.

Which is how you found yourself on Mapi and Ingrid's front porch at 10pm, the day Ona's signing had been announced. It only occurred to you that you probably looked like a mess, and your unexpected arrival would probably concern your older friends, once you'd already knocked. The door flew open before you could rethink your actions, and Mapi's surprised face stared back at you, quickly turning into one of concern.

"Are you ok? What happened?" Her voice was filled with worry, and you suddenly wished you'd come up with any other plan than the one you'd chosen.

"Um. I'm not really sure. Do you have a second to talk?" Your voice sounded shaky despite your best efforts to steady it, and Mapi's eyebrows creased even further, as she wordlessly stepped aside to let you in, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder, leading you to the couch.

Mapi looked at you with a searching gaze and asked, "Do you want me to get Ingrid?" after you'd perched on the couch, looking around for the defender's other half without even really realizing it. You paused, considering, before nodding your head, deciding that you needed to pull yourself together before you spoke again. Mapi disappeared into the bedroom, clearly taking a minute to explain that you were sitting on their couch and acting weird to Ingrid, as you heard muffled voices.

You focused on the little details of the room, attempting to force yourself back into the present. You loved Mapi and Ingrid's place. It was so them. So domestic. The comfy couch, the decorations that were clearly chosen by the Norwegian. The various items left strewn about on the counter, that could only have been left there by Mapi. You felt safe there, you reminded yourself. Ingrid and Mapi would never judge you. They'd do their best to understand, and maybe they'd be able to help.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't realize the couple had walked into the room until you felt Ingrid's hand grab yours gently, her green eyes meeting yours, filled with so much concern, you felt yourself wilt a little.

"What's going on nena?" Mapi questioned as she took a seat on the couch next to Ingrid. You took a deep breath, deciding to launch into the story before you could change your mind.

It made sense that you were confiding in the older couple. You were young when you'd joined Barca, and Mapi had taken you under her wing. She'd become fiercely protective of you, and Ingrid had quickly followed suit when they'd gotten together. You told them everything. All of it. You'd never done that before, not with anyone. What had happened lived inside a little box in your head that you never let even yourself open.

You started from the beginning, how you and Ona had been really close when you'd played on the B team together. Best friends, before anything else. As you got older, things got different. The two of you got closer, until you were... confusingly close. Maybe it was only confusing to you; you'd been incredibly repressed back then. Staunchly convinced you weren't gay. Deep down, you had known, you'd always known. But that wasn't a reality you thought you could have, not with your parents being the way they were. Ona didn't seem to have the same problems that you did, always shrugging her shoulders at questions about the closeness of the 2 of you, as if she didn't care, when the same questions made you lose your breath, terrified of the implications.

Maybe it shouldn't have been surprising to you, then, when she'd kissed you. It was the obvious direction things were headed, but as she pressed her lips to yours in the dark of the club on her 18th birthday, all you could think was that this would ruin everything. It didn't matter how good it felt, how perfect her lips felt against yours, soft and tasting of cherry chapstick and tequila. It only mattered that you couldn't do this. Not you. Not with a girl, even Ona. It was fine if it was anyone else that was gay, it just wasn't fine if it was you.

So you'd pulled back, even though it killed you to do so. You watched the hurt flash across her face as you told her that you couldn't do this, as you backed away from her, out of the club, and walked all the way home. And even though you wanted to pretend that what happened had not mattered, it had. Because when you got home, you took one look at your parents sitting in the living room, at the crosses that hung on chains from their necks, the picture of fucking Jesus on the wall. And the words left your mouth before you could stop them. The kiss with Ona had changed something in you, and you couldn't go back.

"I'm gay." You had said, voice full of confidence, even as your heart pounded in your chest. They'd asked you to repeat yourself, and you had. They didn't seem surprised, only disappointed . Disappointed as they told you they expected you to move out the minute you turned 18, that they wouldn't support that kind of behavior. You hadn't fought them, hadn't yelled. You'd simply walked back into your bedroom, letting tears fall silently as you felt your family and your best friend, your Ona, slip away from you. She'd never really talked to you after that. She lifted out of your life like she'd never been in it. You never tried to explain yourself, determined that you could only be bad for Ona, that she was better off without you, without your mess.

At this point in the story, you were crying, tears streaming down your face as you admitted the truth for the first time. You lifted your gaze to see Mapi's face contorted in anger, Ingrid's eyes filled with tears. If you hadn't been so upset, you might have laughed at how typical their reactions were. Wiping your face harshly, you continued.

"I moved out the day I turned 18. Ona went to Madrid, and I stayed at Barca, and she never looked at me the same way again. I destroyed her that night, and I never told her why, never told her that I hadn't meant it. I'd just let her go. And now she's coming back, and I don't think I know how to be around her, how to talk to her like I haven't loved her with every inch of my soul for 6 years. And I just. Don't know what to do," your voice broke on the last word, and the sobs you'd been bravely holding in broke free, loud and filled with pain, filling the air.

It wasn't even a second before you felt yourself being pulled into Ingrid's arms, and you held on to her rather desperately, hand fisting into the soft material of her sweater, letting yourself fall apart completely against her. Her hands rubbed your back softly, and you felt Mapi scoot closer, pulling both of you into her arms. You cried until you couldn't cry anymore, and they remained a steady presence, holding you tightly until your sobs slowed to pathetic little sniffles you hated. You pulled away from them after several minutes, taking a deep breath, wiping the tears off your face, already knowing your breakdown would be evident the next morning.

Mapi handed you a glass of water that she'd seemingly procured from thin air and you gulped it down. You finally raised your head to meet their eyes, fearing the pity you would see there. You didn't find it; you only found empathy. You didn't miss the way Ingrid's hand was gripping Mapi's, or the way the sight of it made your heart clench, and your brain immediately fill with thoughts of Ona.

"Thank you for telling us that. I don't really know what to say, other than that you didn't deserve that from your parents." Ingrid spoke softly, as if she'd scare you away if she spoke in her normal voice. The two of them had always known something had happened between you and your parents, and between you and Ona, but you never spoke of it. Ever.

You nodded once, shooting Ingrid a weak smile, before looking to Mapi. She loved Ona, and you weren't really sure how she would act in response to your self perceived transgressions. She surprised you, as she often does, by taking one of your hands in hers. You focused on the tattoos littering her arms, instead of meeting her eyes.

"You can't beat yourself up for this, carino. You were just a kid, you were scared, and you were just trying to survive. It's been 6 years, maybe it's time you try to explain what happened to Ona." Her words were gentle, carrying a seriousness you rarely heard from the defender.

You shook your head. "She probably hates me. I led her on, and I ruined our friendship, and I didn't try to apologize or explain myself in the 6 years that have passed. It's not like I haven't had the chance, we see each other at national duties all the time."

"Well... then you just do what you do at camp. You be friendly, and you let her come to you. If she wants to talk, she'll tell you," she replied, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. That was one of your favorite things about Mapi. She always respected your decisions, even if they weren't the ones she would make. She never tried to change your mind when you were set on something.

"It'll take time to get used to her being here, but it'll work out," Ingrid chimed in. Suddenly, it all felt less intense than it had before. You could deal with this. Either you'd end up talking to her, or you wouldn't. Everything would be fine. Your friends were right, it would all work out.

"Thank you guys. Really. I'm sorry for bothering you with this, I know it's a lot," you tried to express your apologies, feeling like you'd maybe been a little dramatic, but they stopped you.

"No, y/n, you don't need to apologize. Both of us have told you to come to us if you need help; you did, and we're glad. We're always happy to help you." Mapi spoke firmly, leaving no room for argument. You nodded again, eyes a little watery again, mumbling another quiet thank you.

You yawned then, absolutely exhausted from the emotional ordeal you'd put yourself through. The other girls chuckled lightly, pulling you to lay down on the couch and covering you with a blanket. They left you to rest, with promises that everything would feel easier in the morning.

-----

Months passed, and you found yourself surrounded by reminders of the brunette defender you felt so conflicted about. Everyone was excited about her return to Barcelona, and the world cup she won only increased everything. You managed to keep your head on straight, not losing your mind and having a breakdown like you had in June. Your friends kept a close eye on you, Mapi hovering over you, the same way she did with Patri and Claudia in the weeks of the world cup, maybe a little extra concerned with you. Ingrid kept tabs on you through Mapi, and she called you often, asking searchingly how you were doing, as if she expected you to freak out again.

Your first interaction with Ona wasn't on her first day with the team. It came on your return from Mexico with the rest of the team that hadn't played in the final. Obviously, you'd seen Ona plenty over the past few years. She did her best to avoid you, which made sense, but total lack of contact wasn't possible when you played on the same national team. You didn't know what made today different, why your heart was pounding as you walked into the locker room on the first day back at training after the Mexico tour. It was different this time; more permanent. It wasn't just a few weeks of letting Ona avoid you; it was months of seeing each other every day.

You neared the locker room, and you heard loud voices echoing out of it. You weren't surprised, it was the first time the team was all back together since June, and there was a lot to catch up on. You entered, taking a deep breath, and walked to your locker, responding as the room echoed with greetings towards you. Your eyes immediately found Ona, sitting relaxed in her cubby, talking to Aitana and Mariona. She looked gorgeous. Even in the plain grey and black training top, her hair sitting loose around her shoulders, she was breathtaking.

She laughed at something Mario said, throwing her head back as she did. You couldn't pull your eyes off of her. She looked over at you then, still chuckling at whatever ridiculous joke Mariona had just told. She caught your eye, and you saw her smile fall slightly, an unreadable looking flashing through her eyes before she fixed her smile, raising her hand in a small wave. You returned the gesture, before forcing yourself to look away, walking to Ingrid's cubby, and wordlessly taking a seat on the ground in front of the bench. You handed her your hairbrush, avoiding the searching looks her and Mapi sent you, silently asking the Norwegian to fix your hair. She did, after giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

Your first practice back was good, as were the rest of the practices leading up to your first game. The team worked well together, and it felt indescribably good to be back on the pitch with everyone. Especially Ona. The two of you played together just as well as you always had, her passes always miraculously finding you, and you miraculously finding the goal. Your chemistry would have been hard to miss, which is how you found yourselves paired up more often than not. She kept your conversations to small talk, but she was always kind, and if you hadn't known her as well as you did, you would have missed the way she always seemed to hold back around you. Not that you could blame her.

You congratulated her with a high five when she was told she was starting the first game, and tried to ignore how the feeling of her hand against yours sent electric shocks through your body. You guys kept your distance, until you couldn't anymore.

----

Your first game was an away game in Madrid, and you knew from the second you saw Ona on the coach on the way to the pitch that she was nervous. She sat next to Aitana, bouncing her knee, fiddling with her fingers, not saying a word. You'd never seen her this nervous before, and it had you worried. You must have been staring because suddenly the empty seat next to you was filled, and Mapi was plopping down next to you.

"Staring, are we?" she asked with a wry smile, making sure to keep her voice quiet.

"No," you responded defensively, "she just seems really nervous, I was just making sure she was ok."

"... by staring at her?"

"Fuck off. Would you just ask her if she's ok when we get there? Please?" Your voice took on a pleading tone, and Mapi sighed before responding.

"Of course. But you don't need to make sure someone is checking on her-- she has a lot of friends on the team, you aren't the only one who has noticed." she nodded to Alexia and Irene, who were both stealing glances at Ona every so often. Obviously. The captains would check on her. Not you. It wasn't your place.

You simply nodded in response, swallowing the inexplicable lump in your throat at the completely reasonable implication that Ona did not need you. You turned your attention out the window then, watching the cityscape pass you by, focusing on the game ahead, the music playing in your ears. Mapi got the message, moving back to her spot next to Ingrid with a soft pat on your knee.

You arrived at the stadium shortly after, and you forced all thoughts of Ona out of your brain. You got ready for the game, following all of your little rituals. You'd been successful in not thinking about Ona until you left the room with Pina to get tape for your ankles from one of the medical rooms. You were laughing about something as you pushed the door open, but did not find the room empty like you had expected. Instead, Ona was sitting on the floor of the room, knees pulled to her chest, as she frantically tried to catch her breath. You and Pina fell silent, taking in the scene in front of you. Ona was so out of it, she hadn't noticed you enter.

Thinking fast, you turned to Pina, keeping your voice quiet but firm. "Go get Alexia. Don't tell anyone else anything, or she'll be embarrassed. Just get Alexia." Pina nodded, face alarmed and pale, before dashing out of the room. You moved closer to Ona, taking a careful seat on the cold floor next to her.

"Oni? Can you look at me?" You carefully reached a hand out, placing it gently on her back, and she jumped at the contact, hand snapping towards you. Her face was streaked with tears, and she was gasping for air desperately, clearly in the throes of a bad panic attack. It wasn't the first time that you'd seen her like this, and you hoped that she still responded to the things that worked 6 years ago. You also hoped she wouldn't tell you to get out before Alexia could get there.

You started to rub soft circles onto her back, and she leaned slightly into you, resting her head back on her knees. You began to talk to her, trying to bring her out of her head.

"You're okay Oni, just take your time. Slow your breathing down. Everything is ok." You spoke as soothingly as you could, but before you could really tell if what you were doing was working, the door to the room opened softly, and Alexia slipped inside, brow furrowed in concern.

Alexia looked very official in her uniform, already with the captain's armband on, and as softly as she looked at Ona as she took a spot next to her, you knew she would bring the security and authority necessary to calm Ona down.

The midfielder guided Ona's head off her knees, speaking softly to her, taking one of Ona's hands in her own, and pressing it to her chest.

"With me, Ona. Breathe with me. You're fine, we've got you, just match my breaths." Alexia could have possibly the most soothing voice in the world when she wanted to, and Ona immediately responded, fighting to slow her breathing down.

She began to calm, and you decided to slip out, and give Ona the space you assumed she'd want. As you moved to stand, however, a hand reached out, grabbing yours tightly. You looked down in surprise, seeing Ona's flushed face looking up at you. Her deep brown eyes shimmered with tears, wordlessly pleading with you to stay, and without a second thought, you sat back down, entwining your fingers with hers, and squeezing tightly.

Alexia continued to talk to her softly, her eyes occasionally lifting to glance at you, an unreadable expression on your captain's face. Once Ona's breathing had returned to normal, she sighed heavily, leaning her head back to rest against the wall.

"Sorry." She croaked out, and you opened your mouth to assure her she had nothing to be sorry for, but Alexia beat you to it.

"No, I've told you before, you never have to be sorry for this. It makes sense that you're nervous, it's your first game, but we all have complete confidence in you." Her voice was firm, and left no room to argue, as Ona nodded once. Alexia rose to her feet, and you followed, each of you offering Ona a hand, pulling her to her feet. The two of you trailed out of the room after Alexia, who seemed to have the incredible gift of knowing when 2 people needed to speak to each other alone, as she sent you a look you couldn't decipher, before speeding up and heading back into the locker room.

Ona turned to you, coming to a stop, and you noticed the that you were still holding her hand. It had felt so right, so natural, you hadn't given it a second thought. You pulled your hand away, after giving hers another squeeze, forcing yourself to meet her eyes. The hallway was empty around you, though you could hear the faint sound of you teammates, and the crown outside, every molecule in your body was focused on Ona's eyes boring into yours.

"Thank you. I really appreciate it. Sitting with me, and getting Alexia. Thank you, y/n." Her voice was quiet, but her eyes were determined, and you felt like you were really speaking to her for the first time in years. You decided to speak freely then, hoping that some level of honesty would make her feel better.

"Of course, Ona. I know things got... weird. And we never talked about it. But i'm your friend, i'm always gonna be here for you." You said the words gently, hoping your voice conveyed the sincerity you felt. One looked at you searchingly then, as if contemplating . You kept your gaze on hers, not allowing yourself to get distracted by the freckles that covered her face, or the way her jaw twitched as she tried to decide what to say.

"Would you maybe wanna get coffee tomorrow? At the place we used to go to? We're gonna be spending a lot of time together, and it probably makes sense if we talk." her words were hesitant, as if she wasn't really sure she should be saying them.

"Yes! Yes. I... I'd really like that." Your voice came out embarrassingly earnest, and you tried to recover, but the look on Ona's face told you that it hadn't worked. She nodded, sending you a slightly more confident smile. She raised a hand to brush over your upper arm, and you had to work hard to keep your body from shuddering at the featherlight touch.

"Good. We should go get ready though." Her smile seemed genuine, and she turned to head into the locker room. You stood in the hall for a second, replaying the light touch to your arm over and over, before you shook your head, and followed her path into the locker room.

----

part 2 will be less horribly depressing and a lot sexier i promise.

[mccn-bcys]

The Old Oak

pairing: jake lockley x gn!reader prompt: tree house summary: the old tree house in your backyard was the perfect place to make a friend, but will it be the perfect place to get him back? warning: jake comes with his own warning, but soft jake, light angst, hints at DID, hints at abuse, happy ending because I'm a sucker and jakey deserves it, brief mention of family member death. word count: 2.4 K author's note: this is my first entry for the MK Spring Bingo and I'm actually really happy with how it's turned out. soft jake is precious to me and i feel like everyone should get to experience it. anyways, this fic is actually super sweet so i hope you all enjoy!

You didn't want to be here. This place was full of people you didn't want to see or talk to, people you haven't seen in years, and people you see every year. Some people have nothing interesting going on in their lives so they tell the same stories to you every year.

The only reason you come is to please your mother. Ever since the death of your grandmother, who used to head the family function, your mother has taken over it, and every year she asks you to attend. Somehow it helps her nerves.

So you do your rounds, talking to various family members, updating them on the happenings in your life, hearing their updates on theirs, and talking about anything and nothing at all.

However, there's something about this reunion that's different. Your mother has been a little giddy, nagging you about how you look, asking you from time to time if everyone is here. It's odd, she's normally not so worried about such things. You wonder what could've gotten into her.

And then you see it. Or rather, him.

Jake Lockley.

"Mom, why is he here, he's not family," you whisper to your mother, pulling her aside.

"He's in town. I ran into him at the supermarket yesterday and told him to swing by. It's not like he's a stranger. He used to come to every reunion with you."

"Yeah, when we were kids. Mom, I haven't talked to him since high school," you try reasoning with her, wondering how she wasn't seeing what the issue was.

"I never understood that, anyways. Why did you two drift apart?"

Maybe because you had a raging crush on him in high school that couldn't face him afterwards? Or because he moved off without a warning or telling you where he was going or why?

"Because people drift apart sometimes," you answer quickly, glancing over at him where he seems to catch up with some old family members of yours.

This fucking guy. You can't believe him. The guy disappears for years after graduation and then shows up to your family reunion with no warning, acting like no time has passed.

"Well, maybe he wants to patch things up," she shrugs, laying out some more plates.

"Maybe he felt like he couldn't tell you no," you counter.

"Maybe you should go talk to him and find out."

"I can't just go over to him and-"

You're cut off by the sound of your own name. It's soft but you know the voice that said it. You can picture the way his mouth moves as it falls right off his tongue. Fuck.

You turn around and sure enough, there he is. Jake Lockley. The man that's been giving you heart palpitations since the ninth grade. How did he get prettier?

"Jake. Hi," is all you can manage to say.

"Hi," he smiles. "It's been a while."

"It has." Have you completely forgotten how to talk to him?

"Wanna take a walk with me?" he asks. And before you can stop yourself, you find yourself walking down the sidewalk with him.

It's quiet as the two of you walk down the street, neither of you really knowing what to say or where to start. His hands are stuffed in his pockets as he walks next to you, looking down at the concrete. 

“So you're in town?” you ask quietly, looking over at him, taking the leap and trying to talk first.

“Uh, yeah, I am,” is all he responds with.

“May I ask why?” you prod.

“Yeah. Um… I wanted to see if you were still here,” he answers, his cheeks turning a little red as he kicks a rock.

You weren't expecting that answer. 

“Really?”

“Yeah. I realized I never properly said goodbye and I wanted to apologize. I just… We thought it'd be easier,” Jake admits, making you stop in your tracks. When he notices you're not walking next to him anymore, he stops and turns and looks at you.

“How could it have been easier, Jake? I was worried,” you ask incredulously, looking at him like he'd lost his mind. “You didn't even tell me you were planning on leaving.”

He looks around you. Clearly, this was not something he wanted to cause a scene about—not that you were trying to. 

“Can we talk about this somewhere else?” Jake asks. You know he's not trying to deflect, he's always been open with you. He just doesn't like being open in public. 

“Wanna go to the tree house?” you offer.

“That thing’s still standing?” He looks at you with wide eyes, clearly shocked. You chuckle as you nod.

“C'mon,” you nod your head and head back down the street to your house, where you slip into the backyard and to the old oak tree in the back corner where your father had built a treehouse for you and Jake. Neither of you have been inside it since middle school. Well, you'd been in it a few times since Jake had left, for sentimental reasons, but only a few times. Mostly just to clean the leaves and stuff out of it. 

Now, the two of you stand beneath it, looking up at it.

“After you,” you gesture to the ladder for him to climb up first, before he starts shaking his head quickly.

“No, please, you first, I insist!” He says, making you snicker and shake your head as you start to climb up the ladder. When you look back down, you see him still at the bottom, one foot on the first step, glancing up hesitantly. His eyes widen a little, like he was caught red handed when he meets your eyes. He's so cute when he's embarrassed. 

“You comin’, Jakey?” you ask, your voice teasing as you use the nickname you had used when you were like ten.

“Don't me call that,” he rolls his eyes as he starts to slowly climb up the ladder until he's inside the tree house, sitting opposite of you.

“Why not? Too big and tough for it?” you continue to tease him. 

“No, because I'm not ten years old anymore,” he answers with a raised eyebrow. “I can't believe this thing isn't falling apart by now.”

“Well they tend to stay together when you keep up the maintenance,” you shrug, going to sit in the corner by the window, your favorite spot as a child.

“Who's kept up the maintenance?”

“Me,” you raise a challenging brow at him, almost daring him to keep bugging you about it. “Now…to the topic at hand.”

His natural smile, that he always seems to have when you're around, falters when you change the subject, nodding as he scoots over to his window on the opposite side of the treehouse. The window where he'd keep guard if any “enemies” (aka adults) were coming.

“Right… Look, I should've told you I was leaving. I'm sorry I didn't, I just…” he sighs, trailing off as he looks out the window.

“You just what?”

“You would have asked me to stay…And I would have listened to you,” he admits quietly, watching your family as they mull about inside the house.

“Why is that a bad thing?” You ask him softly. 

“Because I couldn't stay. I had to leave. To keep us safe.”

“Us?” you ask, heart skipping. Was he protecting what could have been between you? But you see him point to his temple as he looks back at you. Ah, us. His alters and himself.

“You know what life was like for us. I had to get us out of there,” he says simply.

“I would've understood, Jake.” 

Jake just stays quiet, dark brown eyes still looking out the window. He knows you would’ve understood. But that’s part of the problem isn’t it? That no matter what he does, even if he has wronged you, you seem to understand, as if you’ve forgiven him. He doesn’t deserve it, does he? Your forgiveness, your kindness. You’ve always been too good of a friend to him. It’s why he tried to stay away, because he knew you’d gladly welcome him back like this. 

“So you came all the way back to apologize?” you ask, realizing he had no intention of responding.

“Yes.”

“Are you going to leave again?”

He went quiet again. You weren’t sure if that meant yes or no. So you wait to see if he responds.

“Do you want me to leave again?” he finally says quietly.

“No. My best friend just came home, I’m in no rush to lose him again. But I understand if you do,” you admit softly.

“How do you always understand?” he asks, turning to you, his brows furrowed, confused. 

“What do you mean?”

“Every time I leave or come to you with some shit excuse for how I’ve been acting, you always understand. When I told you there were other people inside my head, you understood. When I would ask to crash at your place at random times in the night, covered in bruises, you never asked for an explanation, you just understood. When I left town after graduation without ever telling you a single thing, you understood. How do you always understand?” His voice sounds almost pleading, his eyes trying to find an explanation written on your face.

“I don’t know…I just do. Because you’re my best friend. I’ve never needed an explanation from you. I just trusted you. You never did anything without reason. I understand because I know that life isn’t perfect and I certainly can’t be perfect, so how could I expect you to be as well?” you admit, the words coming to you easier than you thought they would. “Because understanding you has always come easy to me. You could say nothing at all and I’d understand what you mean. You’re like…”

“Like what?” Jake asks when you trail off. He catches the sight of your pink cheeks in the sunlight. For a moment, he allows himself to think about how pretty you are. Though, he’s always thought you were pretty. For a moment, his silly little heart hopes you say what he wants you to say, what he wanted to say before he left.

“You’re like… my soulmate,” you say softly. “I know it sounds silly and childish, but it’s true. We’ve gone through so much together and we always have each other, even after being separated for years. You’re my soulmate, Jake, and I-”

“I love you,” he rushes to say before you can even think of the words. You stop speaking, having been caught off guard, for many reasons. 

For one, you never expected him to be the first one to say those three words. You always thought you’d have to be the one to say them. Secondly, you never thought he’d say those words to you. You never could have imagined your best friend feeling the same way as you. And yet, here he was, saying them. Before you and to you. This has to be a dream. 

“Lo siento,” he starts to say, his eyes a little panicked. “I didn’t mean to say it. I just- I thought that’s where you were going so I thought I’d say it. Mira, don’t feel obligated to say it back, I just-”

“I love you, too,” you cut off his anxious rambling. He stares at you a moment like you’ve grown a second head. “I’m not just saying it because you said, either. Jake, I’ve loved you since high school. I wanted to tell you then, but I was scared, and then I went to tell you and you were-”

“Gone. Fuck…” he breathes, looking down as he seems to mull this over. “I think I had to leave to realize it myself. I missed you, almost came home so many times, I kept wondering why I felt like something was missing. Why some days I felt like I couldn’t breathe suddenly whenever I wanted to speak to you or see you. One day, it hit me: I loved you, and missed you.”

You almost can’t believe it. That he was admitting this to you. He was explaining himself, and you knew it wasn’t because he felt like he had to. It was because he wanted to. And you weren’t even sure how to express what you felt other than leaning across the space and taking his face in your hands and kissing him.

And boy, did it feel right. His pink lips, thought you’d often caught yourself staring at, fit perfectly against yours. They were soft, and he tasted like…raspberries? He must’ve snuck some when he got here. But he seemed frozen, his lips weren’t moving against yours. Fuck, did you cross a line? He might not have been ready for that. And just as you start to pull away, his lips chase yours, taking them back between his own, hungry to keep your sweet lips against his. He’d just gotten his first taste of the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, and he sure as hell wasn’t letting it leave his lips anytime soon. 

The way you two seemed to move together, in sync with each other, was electrifying. Jake cups one of your cheeks in his calloused hand, his other hand slipping behind your back to pull you closer to him, the small space of the tree house practically forcing you into his lap – not that you minded. 

When you two finally part, it’s not because you want to. It’s because you have to. Because you both need air to breathe. So, you sit in his lap, nose nuzzled together as you both catch your breath, looking at each other. 

“Why didn’t we do that sooner?” you breathe with a soft giggle.

“Because then it wouldn’t have been as sweet as that was,” he points out with a smile, leaning in to give your lips a soft peck.

“Well, I suppose you have a point, there,” you smile wide, looking into those eyes that melt into chocolate when the sun beams hit them just right. 

“Course I do,” he grins, kissing you again, losing himself against your lips. And you’re just as bad, falling even deeper in love with him every second you’re in his arms. It feels like a dream come true. 

“I love you,” you whisper against his lips.

“Te amo,” he whispers back. 

And so you sit, basking in each other’s presence, finally in the arms of your best friend again, your soulmate, your lover. And it seems only fitting that the place you finally become lovers is the same place where you decided to become friends:

In the tree house in the old oak tree in your backyard. 

______________________________________________________________

here's my bingo card. I figured it'd look better down here!

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[novankenn]

Unnatural (v2-1)

(Chapter List)

MATURE CONTENT WARNING : This story deals with some disturbing themes. Check the tags. IF any of these are triggers for you or will disturb you... then DO NOT READ!!

Jaune was tired, exhausted would be more accurate. Even with Annabel’s supernatural abilities and constitution, Jaune still need sleep, and now that Terra was spending more and more nights with his mom… sleep was getting harder and harder to come by. Jaune sat at the kitchen table and shot his mom a dirty look as he idly stirred his Pumpkin Pete’s Marshmallow Flakes. Terra had just got into the bathroom, and Saphron was moving into the kitchen for coffee.

“Jaune what was that look for?”

“I’m tired… and you and Terra are the reason for it.”

“Not likely, you’ve just been staying up too late at night playing video games.” Saphron tried to deflect and change the topic at the same time. “And you should have something more than just that garbage. I really don't understand why I keep buying that crap for you.”

“Because you love me, and it says right on the box, 10% of my daily nutritional needs in every bowl.”

“Well, at least have some toast with it.” Saphron commented as she took a seat at the table across from her son.

“Why don't you spend the night at Terra’s place, instead of her always being here?”

“I can’t leave you alone, you’re not old enough, and I’d spend all night worried if someone would get into the apartment and hurt you.”

“Seriously?” Jaune deadpanned. “You really think I need you to protect me?”

“It’s a mother thing.”

“Well, mother. Your… activities are rather loud.” Jaune informed Saphron causing her to choke on her coffee. “Can you either stop, or maybe soundproof your room?”

“What? You can’t be…”

“I know more than any son, let me rephrase that. Then any CHILD should know about their mom and her lover’s… proclivities.” Jaune gave his mom an exhaustion induced angry glare. “Or go to her apartment every once in a while… please?”

“Well, about that… I’ve been meaning to talk to about something.”

“She’s moving in.” Jaune sighed, before rising from his seat, abandoning his breakfast and vanishing into his room, closing the door rather… roughly.

“Jaune?”

“Saph, is everything okay?” Terra asked, poking her head out of the bathroom, her hair dripping water. “I heard a door slam.”

“Jaune guessed what I was going to tell him… he didn’t take it well, at least right now.” Saphron informed her lover.

“Oh! Should we put it on hold? I really don’t want Jaune to be upset…”

“I don't think he’s really upset, more over tired.”

“Is he not sleeping properly? I bet it’s those video games.”

“He says it’s us.”

“Us…” Terra’s face grew bright red once she clued into what Jaune was probably referencing. “Oh, um… ah… what do we do?”

“I’ll let him stay home and get some sleep, and then we’ll talk to him when he’s rested.”

/==/

Terra moved in with Saphron and Jaune a couple of weeks later, and the trio soon fell into the routine of being a family. Terra easily and readily accepted Jaune and began to treat him as her own. It wasn’t like she, even when dating his mom, ever made him feel uncared-for, it was she just upped the amount of affection and care she heaped upon him. It took a little time for Jaune to become acclimatized to Terra actually treating him like her own child, but he did… even if Annabel was constantly teasing him in his head about being the pair’s little baby.

But a couple of months in, Terra popped a couple of questions. One was rather welcome, the second not so much.

“Yes!” Saphron squealed as Terra sank to a single knee and presented Saphron with a small but beautiful diamond engagement ring. Jaune knew it was coming, because Terra had actually taken him aside a couple of weeks ago to ask for his blessing. Which he gave without pause. Terra was good for him mom, and he wanted her to be happy.

“Now I have another, question.” Terra mentioned to the mother and son as they sat in the living room. “I’ve noticing a few things… namely behaviors that seem to happen at least once a month…”

“Um… like what?” Saphron nervously asked.

“Is Jaune a female to male transgender?” Terra asked, and then added, “He is rather feminine looking and once a month you make a point of being the only one to do his laundry, plus there’s the smell…”

“Smell?” Jaune asked.

“Of blood, that I’ve picked up the couple of times I’ve been in your room to vacuum.” Terra offered, “Not that I have anything against it. I love you, Jaune, as much as I love your mom, and I want to support you.”

“Jaune is not transgender.” Saphron spoke up as Jaune in embarrassment bolted for his room and locked himself inside.

[crystalrose555]

Slap me, I dare you! ch. 19

“It seems that fortune has smiled upon us.”

Nixie whipped his head around to see Lucifer standing with his arms crossed, Asmodeus stood by Solomon’s side, and the humans he had control of along with all the others were slumped upon the floor unconscious, leaving the six men all alone. The silence was then broken by a confused Leviathan who raised his hand.

“Um, what’s going on?”

“I think it’s safe to say that we found the demon we’re looking for.” Satan answered.

Levi’s eyes widened before glaring at the exhausted Nixie.

“Where is she!?” The third born demanded.

“Like I would tell any of you.” Nixie hissed.

“You have no choice in the matter.” Lucifer announced coldly.

Nixie snorted in response as he stared daggers at the eldest. Tension seemed to be rising higher and higher as demonic tributes began showing on Levi and Satan while Lucifer kept his calm anger. Asmo watched on nervously before clearing his throat to get their attention.

“Ok, we caught him but why don’t we all calm down, we don’t want to cause an incident in the human world, right?” He chimed with a smile.

Levi’s face twisted with disgust in response while Satan held his chin.

“I think that’s up to our new friend here.” Satan offered.

The room went dead silent while Nixie’s eyes snapped from person to person.

“You’re surrounded and there’s no way out for you.”

“Hmm, these aren’t as fresh as I hoped.” Marley mumbled while comparing green peppers to each other.

“That’s what you think.” Nixie smirked with a growl.

---------------------------

“I wonder if I can haggle a discount.”

Marley shrugged then waved over the vendor. Casually, she went back and forth with the seller while talking about little things that had happened to each of them. After about ten minutes of banter and small talk, Marley beamed a smile as she walked away with even more than she hoped.

“Stuffed bell peppers it is.” she thought with her mouth-watering a little.

Making her way over to the butcher, a sudden rush ran over her, giving her a slight tremble. It was as if someone had just unsheathed a sword from its sheath and bared its blade toward a multitude of powerful foes. She stumbled forward before shaking her head and looking toward the beach.

Nixie straightened up and turned toward the door where Levi and Satan stood. His boots echoed against the floor, stepping over slumbering bodies on the ground. Levi stiffened as he locked eyes with the approaching Nixie. There he stood before him and his brother, the moment before he spoke felt like an hour was crawling past.

“Maybe I should head home soon, the boys are probably back already.” She thought while she entered the meat market.

---------------------------

“Move aside.” He commanded coldly, his eyes glimmering a shining magenta.

“Excuse me, like he-”

“I said, MOVE ASIDE!” Nixie bellowed.

Suddenly, electricity filled Levi and Satan’s bodies and a thick fog filled their minds. Asmo and Solomon’s eyes grew wide as the third and fourth brothers simply stepped away from the exit and allowed Nixie to step outside. Once Nixie left the doorway, their senses returned as quickly as they were taken.

“What just happened?” Satan asked as he shook his head.

“Dammit, not again.” Levi grumbled.

Lucifer wasted no time and quickly left the building after Nixie, leaving his brothers and Solomon to follow after him. Upon getting back on the public street, the group began to follow Lucifer who was only a few paces behind the escaping Nixie. He was close enough for the two to exchange guarded words.

“Leave me alone.” Nixie announced glancing back at the eldest brother.

“That is out of the question, especially after that stunt you just pulled.”

“I’m warning you, Lucifer.” He growled.

“Or what, you’ll control my mind like you did with those humans? Let me be the first to warn you that my mind is not as malleable as my brothers.”

“Are you sure about that? Do you know how easy it would be to shatter that prideful sense of self you have with just a whisper?” Nixie sneered.

Lucifer chuckled as if the threat he just heard was a subpar joke.

“Let’s not kid ourselves. If you had the energy to do such a thing, you would have commanded me instead of my brothers. The same thing happened when you and I clashed in RAD.”

Nixie ignored him as he tried to get some distance but Lucifer’s long strides kept up with his pace. The density of the crowded street changed as the duo found themselves in a more secluded spot. At this point, Nixie stopped in his tracks and turned to face Lucifer. This gave the others enough time to catch up to them.

“So what will you try next, you’re not going to turn into that beast from before since you will expose yourself. Are you looking for a spot to open a portal?” Lucifer called out as he folded his arms.

“Something like that,” Nixie claimed before lifting one of his arms.

Nixie began to float slightly off the ground while being enveloped in an invisible wind causing his hair and clothing to sway.

“What’s he doing now, charging his special attack?” Levi asked cautiously.

At that exact moment, he felt a breeze caressing his face as his own clothing began to flutter. Confused, Levi looked down and let out a startled scream. He was floating over a portal that seemed to lead somewhere unknown. Lucifer looked around and realized that his brothers along with Solomon were hovering over their own individual portals. Wide-eyed, he turned back to Nixie.

“Alright, you’ve got a choice, Lucifer. Keep pestering me and Marley and I’ll scatter everyone here across the winds. You wanna risk never seeing them again, then keep testing me, even I don’t know where they’ll end up.” Nixie growled.

“You think I can’t stop you?”

“Oh I know you can save them but to do so, you’ll have to let me go while you close each of the portals. You better hurry.”

Asmo and Levi’s screams filled the air as each of them began to lower toward the waiting portals. Lucifer scoffed before casting incantations to counteract the teleporting maws. Nixie smirked weakly, this was his final gambit and the first time he tried such a feat but it managed to pay off. With each dispelled portal, he slipped closer and closer to the gateway that opened beneath himself. All he had to do was slip through, he knew that once he got to the other side, he would most likely pass out from exhaustion but it would be worth the escape. He went limp as gravity began to take effect, every part of his being was aching and on fire, and his breath was short and swallowed as he struggled to stay conscious.

Solomon, realizing the gravity of the situation, began to dispel portals to hurry the process but an idea came across his mind and he called out to the others.

“Everyone, hold on, this is going to be a bit rough!” He yelled.

“What the hell is that suppose to mean!?” Levi cried out.

“Whatever, JUST DO IT!” Satan screamed out.

Solomon held his hand out and claimed to the elements.

“Come on, kid, there’s gotta be something Big Bro Mammon can do to smooth things over.”

“Hear me, O spirits of wind and earth,-”

---------------------------

Gell recoiled out of disgust.

“Don’t ever call yourself that again, and the door is fixed, now get out!” Gell growled.

Mammon and Gell bickered back and forth while the younger brothers stood aside and watched.

Belphie sighed and raised his head lazily.

“This is getting nowhere, we should leave and come back later, Marley’s not even here.”

“B-But-”

“Yeah, Marley might get really mad that we’re here.” Beel brought up with a saddened expression.

“Y-Yeah, that’s right, real mad, so you all should leave, now!” Gell claimed, taking advantage of the situation.

Rem just narrowed his gaze at his twin.

“She’s not gonna be that mad-”

Before Rem could finish his thought, everyone in the room felt a sudden gust of wind above them. Looking up, they saw a portal appearing above them. A moment later, Nixie’s body fell through the void landing on top of Mammon who pushed Gell out of the way. Ignoring the fact Mammon cushioned Nixie’s rough entrance, Gell and Rem rushed over to help up the stumbling Nixie.

“Nixie, what happened to you!?” Gell yelled as Rem propped up the exhausted demon.

Nixie weakly opened his eyes and gave a weak smile while sweat covered his face and disheveled his hair.

“Boys…are you two alright?” He managed to wheeze out.

“Never mind us, what about you?” Rem added, struggling to hold up the taller man.

“Oi, what about me!?”

Nixie’s eyes snapped open as he turned his head to see Beel and Belphie helping Mammon to his feet.

“Yo, Nix, you ok, you’re shaking,” Rem commented while Gell help support Nixie’s other side.

Nixie felt fear engulf his being, he barely escaped only to land in a more dire situation. This time, the demons he wanted nothing to do with had found their way into Marley’s home. He had nothing left in his energy tanks but fumes and now he had to burn it up for what could be a final encounter.

Mammon, on the other hand, kept complaining to Beel and Belphie only for a familiar chill to come over him. He turned to see Nixie radiating a deep magenta aura around him. The young boys questioned the sudden action only to feel Nixie’s form grow larger and heavier. Soon they could no longer hold him up as he dropped to all fours, his hands growing thicker with claws. Soon his entire being was covered in thick black fur while his horns and tail came in proudly. Gell and Rem looked on confused as they held close to his sides while his back sprouted giant black wings that covered them protectively.

Mammon screamed before jumping into Beel’s arms.

“For the love of Diavolo, not again!” Mammon cried out loud.

Beel and Belphie stood firmly once they realized who they were facing. Nixie in his beastly form, roared loudly towards the unwelcomed demons.

“Yo, Nix, calm down, they’re cool,” Rem claimed, trying to diffuse the situation.

However, the portal that Nixie came from didn’t close as more bodies dropped from the ceiling. Gell and Rem’s eyes widen and stared as their unwanted guests multiplied from three to eight. Gell trembled as he gazed upon the crimson eyes of an irritated Lucifer who stood firmly in front of them. Rem took a look at his brother who began to tremble. Feeling the weight of the situation, the young twins clung tighter to the sides of the horned lion, and a natural sense of fear began to overcome their rational feeling. It didn’t matter what logic was telling them, all they knew was they were cornered and outnumbered, surrounded by demons with no escape in sight.

“I hope you know you’re going to pay dearly for what you’ve tried to pull.” Lucifer coldly announced.

Nixie only roared in response, puffing himself up to appear bigger. Lucifer stepped forward only to have one of his brothers step in front of his warpath.

“Asmo!? Get the hell out of the way!” Satan called out as he held up a portal-sick Leviathan.

Asmodeus didn’t respond, all he could do was swallow hard as he stared down his furious oldest brother.

“Asmodeus…” Lucifer uttered.

“Listen, I know you’re mad but it’s over, we all need to calm down.”

“Have you lost your damn mind, Asmo!? Let Lucifer take him out before he comes after me again!” Mammon yelled out.

Solomon shook off his uneasiness from the portal spell.

“I have to agree, this is getting way too serious,” Solomon claimed with a smile.

Confusion filled the faces of multiple brothers only for all their attention to be drawn by a heavy thud. They looked toward the source to see the large lion had collapsed to the ground. His wings flattened against his wards while Gell and Rem tried to rouse the beast back to his feet but nothing was working.

“Nix, Nixie, get up, ya gotta get up!” Gell’s voice cracked out while on the verge of tears.

Rem remained silent but it didn’t hide how panicked he was as tears pinpricked his eyes while he frantically shook the lion who panted heavily. The sight of the frantic children struck a cord in a number of hearts in the room. Much to everyone's surprise, Asmo rushed to the beast and lifted the lion’s large head off the ground and onto his lap, holding it tenderly. Almost in one instance, the lion turned back into Nixie’s human shape, his face was flushed red and his breathing was rapid and shallow. Asmo took his sleeve and wiped away the sweat on Nixie’s brow, shocking everyone who knew Asmo didn’t dirty himself for anyone.

“What the hell?” Mammon whispered out in the nearly silent room.

Asmo looked up from Nixie and shared a glance with the worried children before calling out to his brothers.

“We need to help him, he doesn’t look good.” Asmo pleaded.

Solomon came to his side and took a look at the unconscious man. The brothers besides, Lucifer, looked on in confusion.

“Uhh, does anyone understand what’s going on, I’m lost,” Levi commented while scratching his head.

Lucifer sighed, his shoulder loosening as his anger subsided.

“I’ll explain later, right now we need to do something about him.” He answered while holding his head with one hand.

“You’re right, besides Marley could be here any minute.”

“I’m already here.”

Every demon’s head snapped to see Marley standing behind them, placing groceries on the ground with a flat expression. She seemed to be staring through all of them and towards the scene unfolding on her floor. Nonchalantly, Marley made her way towards and through the crowd. Levi went to say something only to be shut down by an ungodly chill that filled his body. His brothers shared the same feeling as Marley finally got to Nixie’s side, ignoring Solomon and Asmo in the promise. As for the young boys, they grabbed onto Marley who gently patted their heads with warm caring hands. She gently shushed them until they could hold their crying.

“It’s going to be alright boys, I need you two to help me get Nixie on my back.” She told them.

Following her instruction, Marley was able to piggyback the passed-out demon. Solomon and Asmo helped as well but Marley didn’t acknowledge their existence. On her feet, Gell and Rem stood in front of her.

“Ok, I need you two to get my bed ready for him. Gell, go get some spare clothes ready. Rem, I need a basin with water and some washcloths.” Marley smiled warmly.

The twins looked on confused and gestured to all the strange men with their eyes.

“Don’t worry, they’re not going to stop you two. Now go on.” She assured them softly.

Gell and Rem nodded as they gingerly made their way through the crowd and up the stairs. Marley sighed and made her way to the stairs as well. The brothers instinctively reached out to help her but couldn’t work up the nerve. Instead, the group followed her to the bottom of the staircase and froze in place once she stopped and turned her gaze to them.

“I’ll deal with you all later.” She claimed coldly with an icy stare.

She then turned around and ascended the stairs, leaving everyone else on the first floor in silence only for Beel to break the quiet.

“I think Marley’s mad at us.” He claimed sadly.

[king-nyx]

The doctor came in the morning, while Audrey was still asleep. She smiled at them.

"Well, good morning. Apollo and you are?" she asked, smiling at Audrey said father.

"I'm Audrey's father."

"Pleasure to meet you," the doctor said, shaking his hand. "And, how's Audrey doing?"

Her father sighed, "Awful."

The doctor nodded, "Apollo, can you step aside. I need to check-in her pulse."

"Should I wake her up?"

"No need," the doctor said, placing rhe stethoscope on Audrey's heart and pulse. "I was told what happened last night and wanted to talk to the two of you. Or, well, I assume Audrey's in your care, yes?"

"Yes," her father said quickly. "Is Audrey alright?"

"She's fine and we can talk outside so we don't wake her," the doctor said. "Just give me a minute."

Audrey's father nodded, sitting back down. The doctor checked over Audrey quickly before walking out. Apollo and Audrey's father followed her.

The doctor closed the door gently, turning to them.

"Please take a seat," she smiled.

They did with little argument.

"Right, so Audrey is in both your cares correct?"

"Yes," her father said.

"Audrey's alright and so is the baby, so we don't have anything major to be concerned about at the moment," the doctor said. "But, Audrey...well, she's not stable physically. We suspect it's due to her miscarriage. Since it wasn't properly taken care of and treated, it might have messed a few things up making this...well, we need to be more cautious if we want baby and mom to survive."

Audrey's father nodded, "But, she is okay."

"Yes, this only concerns her future and this pregnancy. I was told she came in dehydrated and exhausted. That's not something I want to hear from a situation as delicate as hers. So, I'll leave it up to you two to not exhaust her and make sure she eats and drinks enough water."

"She doesn't want to be taken care of," Apollo said.

"No one wants to be a burden," the doctor told him. "And, your wife she's headstrong. For someone like her, this is a big challenge. Now, I wanted to ask. Does Audrey see any mental health professionals?"

"We go to couples' therapy," Apollo said.

"Hm, that's not going to help her. I'll schedule an appointment with a professional, see how we can help her."

"The therapist...um, they, uh, diagnosed her," Apollo said. "Nothing official, but they said they'll move forward with that diagnosis."

Audrey's father turned to him, "When?"

"Yesterday."

"What did they say?" the doctor asked.

"Depression," Apollo said. "Uh, postpartum depression too."

The doctor nodded, "I'll schedule an appointment for her. For now, I want her here until I have her stabilised. So, maybe a few days. Get her clothes, blankets from home anything to comfort her, alright?"

"Yes, ofcourse," her father said.

The doctor nodded, leaving them there.

Do you think covid existed in the Season? Do you think that for 2020-2021 Zeus couldn't host two Seasons. He had to wait until 2022 when restrictions finally lifted?

I'm gonna assume that covid didn't exist for my own sanity

[aclanby-anyothername]

a clan by any other name.

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newleaf, year 2. moon 12.

motheye: "…"

"their scent markers are getting closer and closer …"

motheye sighed.

"dustcloud's gonna freak out."

breezepelt: "what do you think we should do?"

motheye: "i don't know. i haven't ever seen any of the other cats, except for that one time. maybe they're nice?"

breezepelt: "motheye, you saw what they did to cave. i really doubt that they're nice."

motheye sighed again. she was getting pretty good at it.

motheye: "but still … they know we're here, right? if they were mean, wouldn't they have tried to, like, attack us or something?"

breezepelt: "i don't know … let's just keep going."

despite the clan regularly sending out scouts, none had claimed to see the rogues thus far. it left the camp in a permanent state of uneasiness that only seemed to grow by the moon.

motheye and breezepelt continued their border control, the two walking side by side. occasionally, motheye's bushy tail would flick against breezepelt's tail, and he would sheepishly step aside. motheye found it, to be blunt, utterly adorable.

motheye: "…"

"hey, breezepelt? can we talk about something?"

breezepelt coughed, choking on air. he quickly composed himself.

breezepelt: "uh, sure! what's up?"

motheye smiled, but it quickly slid off her face.

motheye: "it's just, um …"

"if there was - if there was something you wanted, but somebody else wanted the same thing, and only one of you could have it … what would you do?"

breezepelt relaxed at the question, and he smiled.

breezepelt: "oh! if this is about the kill pile incident, i'm not mad at you at all! i know that was your favorite, and i didn't mind you taking it at all, i just -"

motheye: "o-oh, yeah! you catch on quick, haha. it's just …"

motheye: "well, let's say that you DID mind. you minded a lot. and i … i still took it from you."

"and i knew you wanted it, too. and i took it anyway. how would you feel?"

breezepelt: "wait, okay. in this hypothetical situation, am i still just about to take a bite, and right before i can, you drag it out from under my paws and scurry away from it yelling 'sorry, it's mine now!'?"

motheye: "um … no. i just - i just get to it first, i guess. and i feel really bad about it."

breezepelt: "um, okay. in that case … i would say that you're fine."

motheye: "what? how can you be so sure?!"

breezepelt: "well, you got to it first. i'd be sad, yeah, but i would get over it."

motheye: "b-but what if you never get over it? what if it was your favorite food in the whole world, and you'd never be able to eat it ever again. what then?"

breezepelt: "i … i don't think that would ever happen? if it did, though … i would be sad, but it wouldn't be the end of the world. i would be okay, and … and i'd be happy that you got what you wanted. seeing you happy … makes me happy, too."

motheye: "w-what? no! you can't just … you can't just be okay with that!"

breezepelt was taken aback.

breezepelt: "huh?"

motheye: "you … you don't get it! i-it not that easy! i can't just do something like that. i can't …"

breezepelt: "…"

motheye: "get mad! take it from me! do something!"

motheye sighed.

"what if you never got over it for as long as you live, huh? why do i deserve it more than you? why do i deserve to make you sad?!"

"what if - what if you're happier with someone else? what if you - i mean, what if … what if …"

motheye sat frozen in place, unable to meet breezepelt's gaze. the two were quiet for a long while, the silence punctuated only by the early newleaf breeze rustling against the canopy of leaves overhead.

motheye's chest was heaving, and she was quick to hide the tears that she had no choice but to shed.

breezepelt's expression was inscrutable. he said nothing, did nothing. he simply waited.

motheye: "sorry. stars, how embarrassing. i - i'm sorry for being such a baby about this."

"l-let's head back to camp. we'll tell the others about the -"

breezepelt: "motheye."

motheye looked up, their eyes locking for but a moment before motheye's shot to the ground.

motheye: "what?"

breezepelt: "motheye … do you remember when we were kits?"

motheye: "y-yeah. what do you mean?"

breezepelt: "…"

"you … you always knew what you wanted, even then. and you always worked so hard to get what you wanted."

"you were always smiling, even when things were hard. just looking at you was enough to make me happy. you … you were radiant."

motheye: "…"

breezepelt: "n-not that you aren't that way now! i just mean … you've always been wonderful, motheye."

"i …"

breezepelt: "i understand if … if you don't feel the same way."

"if there's someone else … if you love someone else, i'll be okay."

"so don't worry about me, okay? i just want you to be happy."

"no matter what … no matter what, your smile will always make me happy. that's all i want."

motheye: "wh-what are you saying?"

breezepelt: "i-i'm sorry, i'm too embarrassed to say it any more directly."

motheye: "no - not that - it's just - of course there's not anyone else!"

"breezepelt, i - i just need to say it - i'm so embarrassed that i'm misunderstanding but i need to say it. i'msorryifthismakesthingsawkwardbetweenusbut -"

motheye exhaled exaggeratedly, as if she had run out of breath. she paused, breathing in deeply as she composed herself.

motheye: "breezepelt, i love you. i always, always have."

breezepelt: "…"

motheye: "…"

motheye was looking at breezepelt, her eyes fierce though uncertain. breezepelt looked stunned, his jaw hanging slightly open.

eventually, motheye's eyes softened, and she looked at breezepelt with a warm smile. breezepelt responded with a similarly loving smile of his own, which motheye repaid by headbutting breezepelt in the face.

breezepelt: "wh - ow!"

motheye: "o-oh, sorry! i didn't mean to - i just got so excited - are you okay?"

breezepelt: "y-yeah, i'm okay. i ... i'm better than okay!"

young love sure is something to behold. admittedly, by telling this part of the story, i feel somewhat like i'm intruding … but that's okay.

i've always been such a romantic, truthfully. by this point, i had grown quite fond of both motheye and breezepelt, so this development made me quite happy.

i suppose you could say i … i 'shipped' them?

hm? what does that word mean. oh, worry nothing of it, dear friend. it is simply something i heard during one of my many lives.

as happy as i was for them, i worried for their safety just as much.

the future was uncertain, but motheye and breezepelt chose to focus on their happiness …

perhaps they felt that love made them stronger? perhaps it is worth it to experience love, no matter what may happen at the end of it?

i … i want to believe that it is. no matter what happens.

oh, apologies! i was simply lost in thought. i was … thinking of something that happened long, long ago.

worry not. in the future, i will try to minimize these sorts of editorializing interjections.

there is a story here that must be told, and it will be told to the end.

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[eddie-van-munson]

I saw your requests are still open and I was wondering if maybe you could write something inspired by this TikTok? https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMNHK3ouC/?k=1 like maybe Jason took his anger out on y/n 🙈

Summary: When Eddie notices a bruise on your arm, he realizes that your relationship with Jason Carver is an abusive one.

Warnings: reader is in a physically abusive relationship, talk of drug-use (weed and ketamine), hurt/comfort, she/her pronouns, angst, friends to lovers if you squint (?)

A/N: Hey guys! I know writing about topics like this is controversial. It can often be seen as romanticization of abuse, but as someone who has been assaulted in the past, writings like this have always been beneficial to me personally. It is helpful to be able to imagine a scenario where, unlike reality, I did have what I needed (control, protection, comfort). It often helps me feel like I have been given back control in a situation where it was taken from me. Thank you for understanding that no romanticization of abuse is intended.

***********

Eddie knew something was wrong before he even saw you. Of course he did. You were his best friend.

He could hear it in your voice as you greeted his uncle, softly. "Hey, Wayne."

"Hey, sweetheart. He's in his room."

Something in his stomach twisted with concern. He was re-stacking a massive pile of cassette tapes when your face appeared in his doorway.

You gave a weak smile, your eyes tired and sad. Eddie hadn't seen you in so long...months now...but he seemed to remember you with more color in your cheeks. Happier eyes and a more relaxed muscles. You were stiff as a board as you tossed your bag to his bed, wincing as you sat. "Hey, Eds."

"Hey, pretty girl. What's up?"

There's a long pause. You scratched your neck awkwardly as the pet name hung in the air. "You shouldn't call me that."

He tried to keep himself detached. Tried not to worry about how exhausted you looked. "I'm sorry."

"It's just-"

"No, it's ok." He gave a weak smile, "I get it. I wouldn't want to cause trouble in paradise."

"I don't mind." You reassured timidly. "I'm just worried you'll slip up and say it of front of him, or something. You know how he can be."

Eddie clenched his jaw, swallowing any words he had on the subject. And he had quite a few. It wasn't his place, he argued with himself. You weren't his to worry about. "How can I help you?"

You frowned as his formality. He was distancing himself, and honestly, you didn't blame him. "I um...I need something to help me relax."

Eddie nodded, turning to dig through a drawer, "Indica should work. You have a bong right? I'll give y-"

"No, I um..." You squirmed, staying seated on the bed as you wrestled with yourself mentally. "I'm actually looking for something stronger?"

 "Stronger?" He tossed aside the plastic baggie he'd pulled from his dresser and moseyed over, sitting beside you. His brow furrowed as he studied you.

You nodded shyly, picking at your cuticles. "You still have K?"

Eddie was a little stunned, "K? As in Special K? Ketamine?" A year ago, you'd barely share a joint with him. "Why the hell do you want that?"

You blushed, unable to meet his eyes, and shrugged. "I've just been stressed with school, lately. Thought it'd be nice to go a little numb."

Eddie stared for a moment, "What's going on with you?"

Your cheeks burned with guilt, "What do you mean?"

"You're pitiful, sweetheart. You look fucking exhausted and now you've just wandered in here for the first time in months looking for Ketamine? You barely smoke!" 

You panicked, the worry in your friend's voice melting your courage. You played a low card. "Eddie, if this is about you and Jason-"

"This is about you and Jason! I couldn't care less what the hell he thinks of me, Y/N! But if he's-"

"He's not a bad guy, Eddie."

Eddie shook his head, trying not to let himself get upset with you.

"I don't understand." His voice came out more choked than he'd intended. You went silent, shame bubbling in your stomach.

"Eddie-"

He stood, the tears welling in his eyes unmistakable, now. "He's not a bad guy, Y/N? I've just got to get to know him? You know, he didn't seem too interested in getting to know me when he kicked my ass all of those times, but I'm sure he's a real Prince Charming behind closed doors!"

You sighed, "Do you have the K or not, Eddie?" 

He whipped around, "I'm not giving you fucking Ketamine!"

You flinched. Hard. Your hands flew up on instinct, shielding your face as if he'd been about to hit you.

It was only then, when your long sleeve shifted down, that he noticed the dark bruise wrapping around your arm. His anger dissolved, leaving only concern as he knelt in front of you. "Hey..."

You trembled as he carefully moved your hands from your face, revealing your brimmed eyes.

"I'm sorry." You whimpered, trying to compose yourself as you brushed away your tears quickly. "I should go."

"Hey, no..." His brow furrowed, "You're hurt." Carefully, he inched up your sleeve to reveal the bruise.

You wracked your brain, searching for an explanation. "I didn't even notice. I must've fallen.-"

"He's been hurting you." Eddie whispered, his blood going cold at the realization, "Oh my god. He's been hurting you..."

"I don't-...He didn't-..." You went silent, eyes burning with emotion.

Eddie took your hand, coaxing your eyes to his.  "Look at me. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, sweetheart. Scared you real bad, didn't I?"

You nodded, expression crumbling as you stared into his deep brown eyes.

"I'm not gonna hurt you. Shit, I would never. Not in a million years." You whimpered, biting your lower lip as he cradled your face. "I want to keep you safe, ok? I want to take care of you." He swallowed thickly. "Are you hurting?"

You croaked a pitiful yes as he reached up to brush away your tears.

"That's why you wanted K?"

You gave an ashamed nod, unable to meet his eyes. He tried not to let his anger at Jason bubble in his stomach.

"Can you show me where you're hurt?"

You blanched, fumbling. "He doesn't mean to hurt me, Eddie. He just gets mad and ...it's an accident. He always apologizes."

"Hey..." He pulls you into a hug, cradling the back of your head, sweetly. "Have you ever lost your temper at me? Gotten angry?" You nodded. "And have you ever hurt me over it?"

A sob finally escaped you. He was right. You'd never put hands on Eddie. The thought never would have never occurred to you to grab him or be rough with him. And you knew he'd never touch you that way either.

 You were hit with the realization of how bad you were really hurting. You wanted Eddie. You wanted your Eddie so bad. You wanted him to see every place you ached and make it better. You weren't strong enough to try and ignore it anymore. Your trembling hands found the first button.

"You ok?" He gave a confused frown as you struggled to unbutton your top.

"Wanna show you where 'm hurt."

He paused for a moment, his forehead creased with concern, but nodded as he reached over.  "C'mere, baby." You leaned into his touch as he cooed the words.

He was slow and gentle as he unbuttoned your shirt, doing only that, and then letting you decide what to do from there. You pulled the fabric off, wincing a little, and watched as Eddie's eyes trailed over the marks on your body.

It was like someone had left grubby fingerprints on you...evidence of rough touches over your hips and arms. A few faded ones dotted beneath your underwire, all the way down your waist.

You crossed your arms over your chest, "On my thighs...'s there too."

Eddie felt like he was going to throw up. God, you looked so vulnerable there, your eyes sleepy and your naked skin dotted with purples and blues.

He swallowed thickly, "Stay here, ok? I'm gonna be right back."

He splashed some cold water over his face when he got to the bathroom, swallowing his nausea at the sight of where you were hurt. He cupped his hands under the sink and took a sip, breathing deeply as he dried off on his pants and grabbed some Tylenol from the cabinet.

By the time he returned, you were curled up on his mattress, fast asleep with his comforter wrapped around your bare shoulders. His heart ached, eyes smarting with tears.

You looked so small there, tucked away. He sat beside you, rubbing your back soothingly as he cooed. "Sweetheart...I've got medicine for you. It'll make it feel better. Just take one for me and then you can sleep for as long as you want, ok?"

" 's not Ket, right?" Your voice was soft and pitiful. You rubbed your eyes with a frown.

Eddie chuckled softly, "No, baby."

You reached for him, tugging him close until he gave in and crawled up into the bed with you. He smiled, kissing your forehead, and grabbed a glass of water from his bedside table. He held it still as you took a sip, taking the pill he gave you. You clung to him, and he rolled over onto his back so you could lay against him. It was good to hold you. To have you back. Even if it was only for a little while.

"Eddie..." You hummed against his skin softly.

He cradled your face, combing his fingers through your hair. "Yeah?"

You felt dizzy, "Wanna stay with you but he'll hurt you over it. He already hurts you. I..." You whimpered, "I'm so sorry, Eddie. I've missed you so bad. I wanted to leave him ages ago I've just been scared."

He hushed you softly, rubbing your back. "Hey, shh... I've missed you too, sweetheart. I've missed you so bad. I've got you now, ok? He can't hurt you." You nodded as he kissed your nose. "Do you think you can rest for me? Just for a little bit? We can talk it all over as soon as you're feeling a little better." 

You hummed in agreement, eyes already growing heavy as you toyed with his curls. "I love you so much, Eds."

He held you a tighter, nuzzling his nose against your hairline, "I love you most, sweetheart."

***********

[messers-moony]

Lavender | R.B

Paring: Regulus Black X Fem!Reader

Summary: Sirius Black escapes Azkaban and Professor Black’s students have a lot of questions about it.

“Professor Black?” A Hufflepuff student raised their hand, “Yes, Ms.Abbott?”

The Hufflepuff - Hannah Abbott - swallowed thickly, “Are you worried?”

“Worried about what?” Professor Black queried with her signature sweet smile, “Sirius Black.” Hannah stated.

The Professor chuckled, “No, dear. Nor should any of you be. Sirius Black will not harm any of you.”

Quietness remained through the classroom, “You know what, we have about twenty minutes of class time left. Why don’t you ask me all the questions troubling your minds? No judgment. You ask me questions, and I shall tell you no lies.”

Hermione’s hand shot up, “Yes, Ms.Granger?”

“How do you inherit the Black surname?”

Y/n smiled faintly, “I was married to one of the brothers.”

“Which one?” Ronald Weasley interjected, “Regulus Black.” Y/n answered.

“Pardon me if this sounds rude,” Dean Thomas began, “But wasn’t Regulus a deatheater?”

Tension set throughout the classroom, “Indeed, he was Mr. Thomas. I congratulate you on your research, but Regulus was not an evil man.” Y/n replied reassuringly.

“What was he like?”

“Regulus Black was a kind and ambitious man but pressured by his parents - Walburga and Orion - to accomplish things he never had ambition for.” Y/n twisted the ring on her finger, “Sirius Black and Regulus Black had more in common than they liked to believe. In the end, it seems that they weren’t different at all.”

“What do you mean, Professor?” Hermione queried at the cryptic response.

Y/n stood in front of her desk with her arms and legs crossed, “What I mean is that they both sacrificed themselves for the people they loved.”

“I can’t go into Regulus’ whole background, we just don’t have the time for that, and I can’t speak for Sirius, but I can assure you, Sirius means no harm.”

Glancing at the clock, most students began to pack up and leave. Hermione seemed intrigued and wanted to ask more, but she left despite her craving for knowledge. Ron followed shortly after. Harry seemed to be packing extraordinarily slow. Both his closest friends leaving him behind while the classroom expired itself out. Y/n returned to behind her desk, and Harry stared at her with his bright green eyes.

“Professor.” Harry called, grabbing her attention, “Yes, Harry?”

“Did you know my father?”

“I did.”

Harry stuttered, “Can- Can you tell me about him?”

“Perhaps,” Y/n answered teasingly.

The boy sat back down at his desk, “James Potter.” Y/n spoke with a laugh, “Merlin, he was a joy to be around.”

“I was a close friend of James’, which was fortunate. Most people couldn’t get too close to him aside from the Marauders, but I managed to sneak my way in.” Y/n explained, “James was kind and sweet, but he had his flaws like everyone else. Sometimes he hurt people - not that he noticed; of course, he thought it was all in good fun, but occasionally someone would get really hurt.”

“Most of the time, I was his shoulder to cry on. Your mother - Lily, she was something, let me tell you. Hurt your father in more ways than one. Rejecting him constantly made him question his self-worth. But he covered it up with his famous James Potter smile.”

“Your father wasn’t perfect, Harry.” Y/n stated, “Despite what anyone tells you. James Potter was not perfect, but there is one thing I bet he was fortunate for.”

“What's that?” Harry asked, “He and Lily died together. They never lived without one another.” Y/n answered.

Instantly Harry felt like he crossed a boundary, “I- I’m so sorry, Professor….”

“No need to apologize.”

“Would you talk about him? Regulus, that is?”

“Of course. Um- Regulus was one year younger than the Marauders. He was also a Slytherin favored by his parents over Sirius.” The Professor explained, fidgeting with her necklace, “He drowned. That’s- That's how he died.”

“He was eighteen when he passed in 1979. I can’t express the pain I felt when I received news of his passing.” Y/n chuckled bitterly, “Sirius ached too. Whether he showed it or not, I knew that he was hurting for the loss of his brother.”

Tears began to gloss her eyes, “I was hurting. We had gotten married a month before he died. Looking back on it, I think he did that on purpose because he knew that soon he would do this mission that would result in his death. His biggest concern was always me and my well-being. So for me to inherit his fortunes, he married me.”

“That’s not to say he only married me for that reason, but I think he wanted to die knowing I’d be taken care of.” Y/n added quickly, “Not even two years later, your parents died. Those three years were awful. And I mean absolutely dreadful.”

“Shortly after I realized Remus - Professor Lupin, excuse me, began to distance himself, so I reached out to him before he could hide away. Remus and I moved into a flat together; we still do. I also have my daughter.”

Harry spluttered, “Daughter?”

“Yes, my child with Regulus.”

“What’s her name?”

“Phoenix Regulus Black, a true Hufflepuff.” Y/n announced proudly, “She's a year above you, but I’d recommend you meeting her.”

“I- I know her.” Harry murmured, “You do?”

Harry nodded, “She- She’s been a good friend of mine since first year.”

“Well then.” Y/n chuckled.

Something was amiss in Harry’s attitude. Y/n was not daft. She noticed that at the mention of her daughter's name, his eyes lit up. The way his green eyes sparkled like a freshly mined emerald. The way his usual pale complexion turned to a faint pink hue and his dopey smile. The same smile James had with Lily. The same smile Regulus had with her.

“You like my daughter, don’t you?” Y/n crossed her arms, smiling playfully, “I- I- Pardon me, Professor.” Harry stuttered.

Y/n laughed, “Oh, you so do! You love my daughter!”

“Maybe I do….” Harry confessed, “Well, Harry Potter, I have no problem with you having a crush on my daughter. Just don’t make her a fling.” Y/n replied, narrowing her eyes teasingly.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Now, run along. You have to catch lunch before it’s up.”

Harry rushed out of his seat after realizing the time. His bag placed on his shoulder as he left the classroom in haste. Y/n smiled and sat at the chair behind her desk. When moving a piece of parchment, there was a distinct rose petal. It was odd, she didn’t have roses anywhere nearby, and no one had been near her desk all day aside from her. The rose petal was a beautiful shade of lavender.

Lavender roses were the only color of roses Regulus would give her. It made Y/n smile, “Thank you, Reggie.”

In the afterlife, Regulus would’ve been sitting watching her entire conversation with Harry. He was smiling at his beautiful wife doing what she always aspired to do - teaching kids. Regulus could only hope that when Sirius was to find her that he’d take care of her. Perhaps Sirius could become Phoenix’s father - the parent Regulus never got a chance to be. Regulus could only hope that Phoenix knew that he did everything to keep her safe. His beautiful baby girl.

[ptergwen]

If you do smut can you do like stark!reader x peter parker (spiderman) are dating 3-4 month and y/n and peter had their very fluff first time then next morning y/n has hickies all over her neck and her thights stomach... and tony/ her dad sees it and is confronting them with it😂 i love your stories 🤤

just saying hi

w/c: 2.5k

warnings: veryyyy suggestive, swearing, some pretty embarrassing moments

a/n: thank you babe! i didn’t write the actual smut but y’all can guess what happened 😭 also this is super long i couldn’t help myself

-

it was everything. it was everything you ever wanted your first time to be and more.

you’d brought up to peter during a make out session one night that you were ready to go farther than you two already have. there was one base you didn’t hit yet. the fourth, the final. you were thinking about it for a while before that, and peter would be lying if he said he didn’t.

your love has always been physical, whether it’s you kissing peter’s cuts after a mission or him tracing hearts on you with his fingers. there’s also the more sexual side of things. that part, you both enjoy just as much, maybe even a little more because you know exactly how to make each other feel good after all the trial and error.

what better way to combine the two than, well, making love?

last night was your sign from the universe, your go ahead to do it. you had the compound to yourselves because your dad had taken all the “big kids” out for the night. you’re both well into college, but he refuses to see you as adults. that meant no peter and no you. you two were a little offended until you realized you could make use of your alone time.

you started off searching for a movie. that turned into you wrestling peter for the remote because you didn’t feel like watching back to the furure yet again. wrestling turned into you on top of him, which turned into you kissing him, which turned into peter throwing the remote somewhere and carrying you up to your room with his lips still on yours.

neither of you had to say it. you were on the same page, same wavelength, two brains in one as peter layed you down and trailed his kisses lower and lower.

peter was so gentle with you, except for when you told him not to be. those were the times he didn’t hold back. he was attentive and sweet and showed you quite a few times how much he loves you. you showed him just the same. yeah, it was really everything.

“morning, baby. you awake yet?” peter hums against the shell of your ear, arms wound comfortably around you. “kinda,” you mumble back with a goofy smile. he presses his lips to your ear and nuzzles his face in the side of your neck. “kinda... how’d you sleep?” you can hear the grin in his voice. his nose nudges your bare skin where a fresh hickey lies and makes you scrunch your own up.

“good, really good. always love sleeping with you.” you’re both aware of the alternate meaning that has now. “funny,” peter lets out a breathy laugh against you and brushes his thumb over your stomach where your shirt got ridden up. you sigh, enjoying his soft touch and reaching behind you to play with his curls. they’re a lot messier than usual from you tugging on them all last night.

peter removes his face from your neck and carefully turns you onto your other side. you’re facing him now, eyes trained on his concerned expression. “hey, just wanna check. how are you feeling? still sore?” a tiny smile stretches your face. he really does care about you and how you feel after everything. you know for a fact most other guys wouldn’t.

“i mean, yeah. you were... it was a lot, but i’ll be fine in a few days i think.” the mention of peter being a lot makes color rush to his face. you laugh quietly at that, cupping one of his cheeks that’s turning pink. “oh. i, um, i didn’t know that. sorry.” he smiles shyly as you smooth your thumb over his warm skin. “don’t be. it wasn’t as bad after i... adjusted a little,” you reassure him, making him lean into your palm.

“i really am sorry, y/n/n. can i make it up to you?” peter checks with you, eyes going up from yours to down your body. he hooks a finger in the waistband of your pajama shorts. “make you feel better?” the way he finishes his question with a bite of his lip is definitely tempting. so is your stomach yelling at you to put some food in it. you’ll have to wait.

“later. right now, you can make me breakfast,” you beam at him and take his hand. peter pushes his palm against yours, letting you lace your fingers together as he puffs some air out of his cheeks. “yeah, that’s gonna go well.” “i’m supervising. it will.” you capture his lips in a kiss, one he instantly reciprocates, free hand resting on your hip. just as it’s heating up, you break it.

“i’m hungry for actual food,” you giggle and roll out of his embrace. “ok, ok, ok. let’s go see what we have,” peter gives in with a chuckle, grabbing the same hand he was just holding and following you down to the kitchen.

he ends up popping some frozen waffles into the toaster, you sitting up on the counter with your phone out while he struggles through the different settings. “should i put it on bake? no, that doesn’t sound right,” he talks to himself with eyes squinted in concentration. “your dad made this thing so... detailed.” it’s an old stark industries toaster, one with options you probably don’t even need.

“yeah because he loves his toast, so maybe don’t break it. he’ll kill you or something,” you half playfully half seriously suggest. peter is one clumsy guy. he tsks at you and crouches down to read the words on the dial. there’s conveniently a setting for waffles, so he hits that one. he’s not sure how he hadn’t noticed it before.

since he’s down there, he takes one of your ankles in both hands and starts to kiss up your leg. it tickles when he gets to your knee, drawing a giggle out of you, but your phone still blocks his face. you’re doing it on purpose. “baby,” peter tries to get your attention in a soft voice. he presses a couple more kisses to your knee. you have to hold your breath so you don’t laugh again.

“baby girllll,” peter drags out, lips moving up your thigh. he nudges your phone with his nose much like a puppy would. “aye, i’m talkin’ to you here,” he says in a fake new york accent. you finally put it down next to you. “i’m listening.” you’re giving him a satisfied smile as he goes back to kissing you.

“just saying hi,” he looks up at you and moves your shorts aside while he kisses further and further to where you want. you scoot closer to him on the counter.

that’s when he stops. not only stops, gasps in horror. “what?” you ask quickly, his eyes fixed on your inner thighs. “i kind of, uh, marked you up. like, a lot.” he runs a finger gently over the bruised skin. you’re suddenly very aware of it now. it doesn’t exactly hurt, just feels bumpy and weird. you peer down at yourself to see the damage, eyes going wide.

“shit... they’re on my neck, too,” you remember, murmuring to him. you’ll have to cover these up before everyone gets home. worry flashes across peter’s face. “oh my god, i didn’t even realize. it- it was dark and you told me-“ “pete, it’s okay. it’s pretty hot,” you stop his rambling, reaching down and putting a hand on his shoulder. he frowns up at you.

“really? are you sure i didn’t go too far? because you can tell me.” you’ve always appreciated how much peter genuienly values your thoughts on things, in the bedroom and in other parts of your relationship. it does lead to a lot of second guessing, though. you squeeze his shoulder and let out a breath. “i’m sure, okay? it’s really not that serious. i’ll just change so no one can see.”

peter winds an arm around one of your legs, body relaxing ever so slightly under your touch. “okay.” he gives your thigh one final kiss, then rests his chin on it. “what about your neck?” “uh...” you hadn’t considered that yet. “makeup? a scarf?” you’ve seen enough tv to know neither of those work, but they’re your only options.

“yup. mr. stark is really gonna kill me now,” peter says under his breath, tensing up all over again. you furrow your eyebrows at him. “what? we’re literally grown adults, we can do whatever we want-“

tony claps loudly as he steps into the kitchen, announcing his return home. peter jumps up from between your legs faster than fast. he moves so he’s next to you, and you hop down from the counter.

“hello, daughter of mine. spider of man,” your dad greets you two, you pulling down your shorts with a plastered on smile. “or would it be man of spider?” he plucks an apple from the bowl on the table as he ponders his question. steve and wanda file into the room next. “second one,” peter replies, grinning a little too much to be normal. tony takes note of that.

wanda comes over to the fridge for a snack, which is close to where you and peter are. “how was last night?” you ask her to take the attention off you two. wanda settles on a yogurt and turns to you. “it was good. we shared a few hotel rooms, had our own party.” she glances over at peter, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. “seems like you two had a fun night of your own.”

peter’s mouth drops open. “how did you-“ he forgot she could read his mind and now knows everything that happened. you slap a hand over your forehead. “you couldn’t think about anything else? for, like, a minute?” you whisper yell at him. he uses his eyes to plead with you. “i’m sorry! i was looking at the hickeys-“ he realizes what he’s saying. “crap.”

shooting you a wink, wanda shuts the fridge and goes to join the rest of the team in the living room. lucky for you and peter, steve started lecturing tony about washing his fruit before he eats it. he didn’t hear any of that. there’s still the problem of your visible hickeys that you have zero seconds to hide.

“how the fuck am i supposed to cover these? they’re right in the center, peter!” you panic, your heart starting to race as peter fumbles for a dish towel. that’s the best he could come up with? “no!” you toss it back at him. he throws it on the counter with a pained look. tony and steve make their way over to you.

“oh, hush. a couple of deadly pesticides won’t shake me, stevey boy,” tony insists and takes another big bite of his apple. steve huffs in disapproval and crosses his arms. “you’re a big baby, tony. if you’re not gonna do the right thing, at least buy organic-“ with the world’s longest sigh, tony chucks his apple into the open garbage can.

“there. no more apple discourse.” steve shakes his head at your dad’s behavior. “that was a waste. you could’ve finished it.” “not with your nagging into my literal ear.” steve raises his hands in surrender before making his way out of the kitchen. tony side steps past him and over to you. “enough of that now. let’s have a welcome home hug from my girl.”

you share a look with peter, a look of pure fear that’s in both of your eyes. he’ll definitely notice the hickeys if he gets that close to you. he holds out his arms expectantly while peter scratches the back of his own neck. “sure, dad. welcome home.” an awkward smile on your lips, you bury your face in your dad’s chest and wrap your arms around him in one motion. this way, he didn’t have time to see you from too close up.

peter exhales in relief at the narrowly avoided disaster. that’s until tony makes a request. “missed me that much, kiddo, huh? come out of there.” “but, i’m so comfortable. i wanna stay like this,” you insist, a niceness to your voice tony immediately sees through. he drops his arms from around you, eyeing peter suspiciously, who averts his gaze to the floor.

“nuh uh, you did something. both of you,” your dad states, taking a step to stand between you and peter. peter gulps down a breath before speaking. “mr. stark, it was-“ tony holds up a hand. “don’t worry, kid. i’ll figure it out.”

he gives peter a proper stare, searching him for clues of some sort. it’s a good thing he isn’t wanda because the details of your night would have been exposed. he couldn’t find anything, so now it’s your turn. he’s a little disappointed you’re the one hiding something.

“oh, y/n. not you,” tony sighs as he gives you a looking over. he starts with your face, your eyes following down as his do. it’s when he gets just past your chin that he sees them. the little hickeys littering your skin, some already deep shades of purple. he rips off his glasses in disbelief.

“absolutely not.” he closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with the same hand his glasses are in. “i’m not seeing this. i’m not seeing this if i don’t look.” you scoff at his reaction. “dad, you know we’re together. you can’t expect us to not...” “don’t say it,” tony begs, getting the urge to hurl his half eaten apple. he turns and faces peter.

“parker, you really did all of that?” peter only blinks, nervously meeting the eyes of his mentor. “to my daughter?” tony adds on to scare him even more. “i- i-“ a burst of frustration comes out of peter. “you left two teenagers alone the whole night. what’d you think was gonna happen?” he’s shocked at his own words, his face showing it. tony raises his eyebrows. both your hands cover your mouth.

not wanting to deal with peter, tony addresses you instead. “i don’t care how you do it, cover those up. don’t let me see them ever again. understood?” you nod a good amount of times and reach for peter’s hand. he’s about to give it, then tony glares down at what’s happening. peter pulls back immediatelty. “understood. we’ll, um, do better next time,” you agree, tony winching at the idea of a next time.

“you, parker... treat a lady with a little more respect, eh?” tony clicks his tongue at him. he’s referring to all the hickeys. peter’s lips form a line, a sarcastic one that says oh well. “i tried, mr. stark, but y/n wanted me to-“ “christ, that’s enough.” tony furiously shakes his head and starts to walk away from you two. “never again!”

you’re thanking god when he sets off for the living room, you hiding your face in peter’s chest, his face in your hair. “that was terrible. that was the worst thing ever,” you say into him. “i’m sorry, baby. we gotta be more careful.”

it’s not over yet because then, the toaster dings. you’d completely forgotten about the waffles. you and peter both separate with your millionth shared look of terror. tony comes rushing back into the room, very familiar with that noise.

“first you destroy my daughter, now my toaster? pete... you’re in for it, kid.”

[donutloverxo]

Good little wife

Note - Inspired by a request I got long ago and written for the happy hoelidays challenge I'm cohosting with my sister hoes @navybrat817 and @stargazingfangirl18 . I used the prompts two idiots in love + Character A loves Christmas. Character B hates it. A melts Bs cold heart Dividers by @firefly-graphics .

Summary - Your husband makes up to you for being a Grinch and a meanie to you throughout your marriage.

Warnings - 18+ only, smut(m/f), dub con, older man/younger woman, arranged marrige, leaking nudes, daddy kink, blood play, virginity/innocence kink, loss of virginity, virgin reader, painful sex, misogyny, mob activities.

Pairing - Mob!Andy Barber x reader

Word count - 8k

“You look beautiful, cookie,” your mother raved, pressing her lips to your cheek, “He’s a lucky man.”

You only hummed. Staring at your refection, seeing someone you didn’t even recognize.

Your white lace dress somewhat conservative, still really pretty, something you would’ve been more than happy to wear if your circumstances weren’t so depressing.

You almost let out a sardonic laugh, you didn’t get to choose your husband but at least you chose your wedding gown.

“It’ll be alright,” your mother picked at your hair, noticing your evident sadness, you’ve never been one to hide how you feel anyway, “you’ll learn to love him. He’s very successful.”

“I always thought ‘money doesn’t make you happy',” something she had said to you so many times over the years.

“That’s just a fairy tale. People fall out of love, run out of things to talk about, men cheat, in the end all that’s left is how well he can provide for you,” she stated.

You checked your phone as soon as you could, going through your messages to see if your boyfriend, or rather your now ex boyfriend, had sent you anything. You still naively hoped that he'd come on a white horse and sweep you off and away, so you wouldn’t have to marry someone you’ve else. So you wouldn’t have to give up your freedom forever and just be someone’s wife.

But you saw nothing. He hadn’t talked to you, not since your father found out about you both. Since he was from a family your daddy hated with a passion, and you were supposed to as well, your father made you cut all times with him. Locked you in your room in a timeout till you came to your senses.

After over three weeks he came to you, telling you how he was ready to forgive you and move on. You were so happy. For a minute you let yourself believe that this was your father, he loved you unconditionally, of course he'd set aside whatever vain feud he has and let you be with your love.

All your hopes were crushed when he told you he had selected a husband for you whom you have to marry in just a month. That you had to drop out of college since you wouldn’t need that degree anyway.

You always did believe that he had your best interests at heart, you wanted to believe it this time as well, but you just couldn’t.

Cringing inwardly when he kissed your cheeks, “You look beautiful,” he told you, cold eyes staring at you, “Don’t try anything stupid. Andrew is a good man,” he looped your arm in with his.

“He’s more than a decade older than me,” you argued, biting your lip as he squeezed your arm to warn you.

You slapped a fake smile on your face, walking down, one step after another as everyone looked at you in awe.

This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life...

But when you looked at Andy waiting for you at the alter you felt nothing but grave anxiety which made your teeth clatter, his palms joined together at his front, he did look handsome with his tux and neat beard. You have had a crush on him for a long time but you’ve never even had a real conversation with him, you didn’t know him. No one did.

Your heart filled with dread as your father handed you over to Andy, patting him on his shoulder, “Take good care of her.”

“I will,” Andy smiled.

You weren’t really there, maybe your body was but your soul had left you to maybe make the whole ordeal less painful. The priest read the vows asking you if you were ready to take him as your husband forever.

“I do,” since you had no other choice.

“I do,” he repeated.

You felt a shiver jolt up your spine when his fingers grazed yours, putting the thin silver band on your finger before lifting your veil to press his lips to yours, giving you a chaste, barely there kiss as everyone cheered you on.

The rest of the evening was a blur, you could barely register what had happened, everyone sweetly calling you ‘Mrs Barber’ only making you more nervous.

Andy however, was cordial and formal as always, shaking their hands and thanking them.

Since you hadn’t really taken any dance lessons you were left to simply wing it with him at your first dance. With your clammy hands in his you tried to match his pace as he lead you, bumping into his feet with yours more than once.

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Relax,” making you shudder.

You looked up at him, he had barely said two words to you but your grandmother often said ‘Eyes are the windows to the soul’.

And Andy’s eyes were so... kind, like a blue ocean you could happily drown in. He almost looked at you as if he were fond of you.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad...

You didn’t really expect Andy to carry you over the threshold, that was just a silly little fantasy you’ve always had and you knew he’d never indulge you in it but he didn’t even hold the door open for you.

You looked around his condo, so grey and boring, looked like it was out of a magazine catalogue, you felt so out of place there.

Naturally, you followed him to his bedroom, watching him wake his coat off, followed by his cuffs as he rolled his sleeves up.

You went over what you wanted to say in your head, how do you tell your husband that you’re a virgin, on your wedding night--that was something your grandmother never gave you advice on. You could’ve used her wisdom then.

With your mouth suddenly dry you tried to speak as he poured himself a drink, “Um... I’ve...”

“What?” he looked at you, quirking a brown brow up.

“Nothing,” you shook your head as you took a seat on the edge of the bed. “This is a nice house.”

“You can take the guestroom,” he said bluntly.

“What?”

“You can take the guestroom. I’ve already put all your bags there, you can decorate it however you like but don’t touch anything else.”

“But I...I’ve never heard of husband and wife sleeping in different rooms.��

“That’s true, it is unusual. This is not a normal marriage though, is it?” His tone so frustratingly patronising, as if he was talking to a child.

You’ve never really been appreciated for your mind, women never are--not where you come from, even your love Alex only ever thought of you as a ‘pretty face’. But Andy didn’t need to spell it out for you, “You... don’t want me...” you realised.

He only scoffed. He’d never been one for long term relationships, he had tried but he could never give himself to another person, women often called him emotionally unavailable, his demanding and dangerous job did contribute a lot to that, but more than that it was his unwillingness to change. He was self aware enough to know that but he didn’t need anyone else. He didn’t want to be tied down or to have a nagging immature wife.

“But why...” you wondered. Sure, you weren’t thrilled to marry him, but now you had accepted it and wanted to make the best of your new life. You thought he wanted the same.

“Why would I want you?” he spat. “ You’re nothing but a spoilt rich girl who’s had everything handed to her. Who was ungrateful and stupid enough to fraternize with the enemy.”

You let out a shaky exhale, looking at him with teary eyes, “I loved him...”

“You don’t know the first thing about love,” he rolled his eyes.

“He loved me too! But I’m willing to put that behind me. I made a vow to you.”

“You really don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?” you frowned.

He took his phone out of his pocket, opening his gallery to show you the compromising pictures you had sent to your ex, “He shared that with everyone, it was all just a ploy to humiliate your father.”

You gasped, taking his phone in your trembling hand, your breasts exposed as you shyly looked at the camera. You had flat out refused to send him a nude when he asked for it but then he threatened to break up with you, to go after your best friend, even called you a prude because you hadn’t slept with him. At the moment you felt as if you had no choice but to do it...

“He wouldn’t,” you sobbed.

“And because of your stupidity I had to marry you since no one else would ever want you,” he said. But then regretted it as you just started crying harder. He thought of maybe trying to console you but what would he even say?

He took the phone from you before you could even think of deleting the photos. He used them to pleasure himself almost every night. Maybe he was an idiot, he could have the real thing, yet he was pushing you away, “Go to your room,” he told you which made you sob even moreso.

You looked up at him, begging him for a hug, for some sort of comfort or sympathy but his face was cold and harsh. Finally gathering your wits you went to the other room, ready to cry yourself to sleep.

No matter how beautiful you were, you were still thrusted upon him, you didn’t love him, you never could because you never even had a choice

“Perfect,” you beamed, setting down the chicken pot pie you had just cooked up.

Your grandmama had always told you that a wife should be a cook in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom. So that her man would never stray.

And while you hadn’t had a chance to be a whore for Andy... something that you were looking forward to, you hoped the fresh home cooked meal, the holiday season and decorations you had spent the past few days working on would put him in the mood. To maybe accept you as his wife.

For the past six months you had tried everything, making him breakfast, packing his lunch, offering him massages, even trying to help him with his work but he was always so cold to you.

You feared that this is how it will be forever. He would never love you, not the way you’ve always loved him. Even when he was so cruel towards you.

But you were nothing if not resilient. So you said chuck it and went all out. Decorating your whole house, with a real tree for the past few days while Andy was out on a work trip for thanksgiving. Maybe you could surprise him and he’d realise just how much he lucked out with you.

You even went with a more risqué outfit than you usually would. Your little emerald green skirt with pleats was a bit too short and impractical for the cold winters but you were going to stay inside anyway. It was topped off with a tight burgundy blouse and a push up bra which made your girls look enticing and some red pumps.

With a pumpkin pie for dessert in the oven, your salads done and the gingerbread flavored candles lit up you were good to go.

So you sat on the couch, watching 'A Christmas story' for the hundredth time to kill time till he gets home and to distract your nervous mind.

After ninety minutes the movie was over but Andy still wasn’t home. You tried calling him but it kept going to voicemail.

Frustrated, but determined to follow through with your ‘Seduce Andy Barber’ plan you put on another movie, chewing your lip till it bled as you impatiently waited for him.

Soon it was midnight, your food got cold and the rumbling in your tummy became more prominent so you decide to eat your dinner, put the leftovers in the freezer and cut your losses.

You were almost done with your dishes when your husband coming into the apartment, turning around you saw him hang his coat on the back of the chair and plomp down on it. He groaned, pulling the sleeves of his shirt up to reveal his bulky forearms.

“You’re home,” you said, taking off your apron so he could see your little get up.

He didn’t smile at you like you expected he would, he didn’t say ‘Good job’ like you thought he would. He certainly didn’t look like he wanted to bend you over the dining table and take you then and there. He simply frowned at you. Looking at you as if your mere existence offended him.

“I told you; you were allowed to decorate your room however you liked. Not the whole apartment,” he growled, rubbing a hand over his face.

“What? I did it for you... I thought you would like it, ” you stood there, dumbfounded, shifting from one foot to another, “You don’t like Christmas.” You realised.

“No, I don’t. Christmas isn’t all fun and jolly for everybody. I’ve never had anyone to celebrate it with,” he did you a once over, his pants tightening uncomfortably as he took in your little ensemble.

He had never had a single good Christmas in his whole life. He’d usually spend it either working or drinking. But now, he had you, his good little wife who had gone out of her way to do all this just for him.

He could kiss your red lips then and there, finally do what he’s been wanting to go for the past few months and make love to you, eat the delicious meal you had made him because he was fucking starving.

But then he realized how easily you could be taken away from him. How this was all so fickle.

“Do you want a divorce?” he crossed his hands over his chest, as if daring you to give a wrong answer, “If you do, I’ll give you one right now.”

“I - ” you strutted, you didn’t really know, “Daddy would never let that happen.” To which he scoffed.

Your father would kill you both if this marriage failed. He knew that, why would he still be willing to risk everything?

“Where are you going?” you asked when he got up from the chair.

“To my room, to sleep,” he sighed.

He knew what you would say, he knew you were daddy’s little girl who’d die before disappointing her father, which was solely why you were with him, and yet he let himself fall for you and get hurt.

You tugged on his shirt, ready to beg him to at least eat the meal you made for him but then you frowned, inhaling the feminine perfume from his shirt, mixed with his own Cologne, you took a step back, your eyes brimming with tears as you realised he might’ve been with another woman.

While you were home slaving away to make everything perfect for him.

Your father had a handful of mistresses, a few of them younger than you. Your mother knew, all wives know and look the other way. That was how it was supposed to be. It was how you make marriages last...

And your poor beaten heart could take his coldness towards you, it absolutely could not bear him being with another woman. Your father had always praised him for being loyal, and it was one of the things you loved about him...

“Where were you?” you sniffled to keep the tears at bay.

“I was out working. So I could pay for your shopping sprees.” He spat.

You gasped, “I haven’t gone shopping in months! I only did now for Christmas!”

“That tree better be down by the time I wake up. You can out all that crap in your bedroom if you like. I do not what to see it.” He said gravelly, before slamming his door shut.

Something was horribly wrong.

Andy came home to an empty, cold house. You weren’t there to greet him like you usually are, in fact you hadn’t been for the past few weeks. He could hear the TV from your room, some kind of musical playing.

He checked the kitchen for some food, you used to make dinner every night, rave about your love for cooking and baking, but now it seemed that you lived on poptarts and McDonald’s.

He knocked on your door, to ask if you wanted some of the alfredo he was cooking up, also to maybe get you to have dinner with him.

Ever since he had married you, he had such a beautiful companion to have dinner with. To watch silly romcoms with, someone who waited for him to come home, called him all worried when he was late, asked him how his day was

It’d break his heart to say good night to you, you’d give him those puppy eyes, fluttering your lashes as if begging him to invite you to bed with him.

He wanted to ask you to come, to feel what it would be like to snuggle up with your soft body, to smell your hair, to finally fuck you, but he’d just go away to sleep in his cold bed with a heavy heart. Making do with his hand as he thought of you, it wouldn’t feel nearly as good as you would but it would have to do.

“Can I come in, honey?” he asked.

Letting himself in when no answer came from you. You were lying on your bed, blankets draped over you, your eyes trained on the television. He looked around your room, he had only been there a couple of times, he had expected to see some kind of winter wonderland since you were such a fan of Christmas.

But it looked just how it usually did... pale pink walls, a queen sized bed, a small closet and a dresser and a vanity. No tree or fairy lights or nut crackers.

He leaned against the door frame. “Did you have dinner?” He wanted to know.

You made some sort of unintelligible noise; which could mean anything. So he asked, “Would you like some pasta? I can’t make it as good as you do but I’ll try.”

“No.” You answered. Still not even looking at him.

“It’s Christmas Eve, do you want to go celebrate with your family?”

You shook your head in response. “No, I think I’ll just stay here.”

He had stolen your brightness and sunshine away, tainting you with his darkness. “Stop it,” he scolded, switching off the TV and standing in front of you to make you listen to him. “Get ready, I’m dropping you off at your fathers. You’re not spending Christmas in bed.”

“What difference does it make?” you huffed.

“Get ready. Right. Now.” He ordered, pulling your blanket away from you.

“No!” you whined. Sitting up, your face heating up with a simmering rage you had harbored for months. “Why do you even care? Do you want to get me out of the house so you could spend Christmas with her?!”

“Who’s her?” he furrowed his brows.

“Your mistress!” you yelled, looking around for something you could hurt him with, you grabbed a hold of your Mrs Bunny, your cute pink stuffie and threw it at his face. “I’m not going anywhere. And you’re not bringing her in to my house!” You said, throwing another stuffie at him which he caught with his hand.

“Honey,” he said, as if he was so disappointed with you, for catching him in his lies and deceit. “I don’t have a mistress. Where would I even find the time for one? All those late nights were spent at the office or in meetings.”

He would be the world’s biggest idiot to get a mistress when he had a wife like you waiting for him at home. A wife he hadn’t even so much as even kissed... given how pouty and tempting your lips looked, he didn’t know how he resisted for so long.

“Don’t call me honey,” you puffed out your cheeks, “And I don’t believe you.”

“Well, what can I do to make you believe me?”

You sighed, laying back down on the bedding, “There’s not much you can do. Except leave me be. I just want to sleep this Christmas away.”

He had to do something to get your spirits up. And since you has thrown away your old decorations he ran to every store in the town, waiting in the queue for hours, calling in as many favors as he could to get some new ones.

While he wasn’t able to get a real Christmas tree, he got a fake one which was a bit smaller than the one you had put up but not all that bad.

You had decorated the apartment with the traditional red, greens and golden he decided to go with a soft pastel pink theme. Hoping that you would like it and forgive him.

He had gotten you couple of gifts, a little babydoll he saw on the internet, it was pink and sexy, he thought of you the moment he saw it. Ordering it for you but he never really gathered enough courage to ask you to wear it. He wrapped it up for you in some festive paper, tying a ribbon around it.

He decided to get as many gifts for you as he could so the tree wouldn’t look so depressing, a Tiffany’s set, an advent calendar from a make up company he knew you liked, a box of cookies and one of chocolates, a new apron with floral patterns and frilly trimmings, some cozy socks, and a surprise gift he had been saving for you.

Looking around the living room, while it wasn’t as good as what you had done with the place he was still proud of what he could pull off in just a couple of hours.

He called out your name before knocking and entering, switching on your bedside lamp he sat next to you, stroking your hair, “Wake up, angel.”

“Seriously, stop it with the petnames,” you said, your voice groggy from sleep and irritated. Because he had only ever said your name with contempt before.

“I’m not going to stop, honey. You’re my wife, I can call you whatever I like.”

“Whatever,” you mumbled, rubbing your sleep away from your eyes.

“I have a surprise for you.” He smiled at you.

And while he had certainly smiled at you before that, when you had said something funny or silly (which you usually did just to see him smile), this one seemed so much brighter and warm.

“What is it?” you sat up. Still a bit crossed with him but excited to see what surprise he had for you.

“You have to come into the living room for that, and promise to stop being a Grinch,” he said, bopping your nose.

You scoffed incredulously, “I’m being a Grinch?! You were the one who made me take everything down in the first place!”

“I know, honey, and I am sorry for that. Hopefully I can make it up to you.” He winked.

You combed your hair, splashing some water on your face and then following him out to see what he had in mind for you.

You all but gasped at the tree in the middle of your living room, so beautiful, the soft glow of the fairy lights illuminated the room, little festive trinklets all over the room.

He had got you a pink stocking with sparkling silver hearts on it. His was a normal red one with ‘Andy' written with a sharpie or a pen. You giggled at that.

“You like it, honey?” he asked.

You nodded, observing the ornaments on your tree, “I do. Thank you so much, Andy. It’s so beautiful, I don’t think anyone’s ever done something so grand for me.”

Your rave gave him the courage to out his hand over your waist, pulling you into him, “I know this doesn’t make up for everything, but it’s start.”

“Yes! I think... I’d like a fresh start,” you beamed up at him

He excused himself to make some hot chocolate for you both, handing you a mug with little heart shaped marshmallows and sprinkles on top of it. You didn’t even realise how you ended up snuggled up next to him on the couch, Elf playing on the TV which he shockingly had never seen before.

“You know... for someone who hates Christmas so much you did a pretty good job saving it!” you giggled, kissing his bearded cheek.

“Well...” he looked down at you, wiping away the mustache the hot chocolate gave you before sucking his thumb off, “I don’t hate it anymore, because I’m not alone,” he said, his thumb pulling on your plump bottom lip.

“Um...” you face heated up as looked away, “You got me gifts!” you screamed a bit overzealous to change the subject, “Can I open one now? Please?! I’m just so excited!”

“Sure,” he murmured, a bit salty that he didn’t get the kiss.

He knelt next to you on the carpet as you pinked one up, shaking it next to your ear, scrunching your nose up so cutely as you tried to decipher what it was.

“Mmm... I can’t tell...”

“Why don’t you just open it?” he asked as his hand caressed your bare thigh, finding himself unable to keep his hands off of you now that he has you.

You ripped at the wrapping paper, opening the box to reveal the skimpy baby pink lingerie he had got you.

You pulled it out of the box and then started stammering, unable to form words once you realised what it was. “Is this... um..”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, it’s very cute and nice. Do you, want me to wear it for you?”

“If that’s what you want,” he said casually and then shrugged but then regretted it as your face fell and you let. He wasn’t used to half-assing things if he was going to tell you his true feelings, he had to go all out.

Taking a deep breath, “I have to tell you something I’ve been meaning to say for months.”

“What?”

“I... love you,” he looked down at your lap, because he couldn’t bear to look in your eyes if you decided to reject him.

“Oh, Andy!” you beamed, “I love you too! I’ve always loved you,” you crawled on top of him, throwing your arms around his neck you hugged him.

“That’s good then,” he smiled stroking your back, he pulled you back so he could look at your pretty face, cupping your cheek he pressed his lips against yours.

He had only kissed you once, months ago at your wedding, and while it was not bad at all it was too short and formal and distant, nothing compared to how he felt right now. Moulding his lips against yours, kneading the flesh of your ass, you tasted just as sweet as he imagined you would.

You gasped in his mouth when he rutted his erection up into your core. “Andy!” your chest heaving as you felt him pressing against your thigh.

“What do you say you go put that on for me, doll? Hm?” he instructed.

You meekly nodded, grabbing a hold of the lingerie which you just now noticed was so sheer and would not really leave anything to the imagination.

“Come on out quickly now,” his impatience seeping through his voice as he sat on the edge of his, or what would now be both of your marital bed, one leg crossed over the other, his foot tapping against the floor.

His pants already snug, just from imagining what you would look like with the flimsy thing on. It wasn’t as revealing or kinky as some of the other pieces he had seen, but he felt it would match your personality perfectly.

He groaned, calling out your name again, “I’m gonna fucking die of blue balls, if you don’t come out right now, I’m coming in,” he got up to his feet to do just that but then stopped when he heard the knob twist.

One smooth leg peaking out of the bathroom, “Um... promise you wouldn’t make fun of me?” you asked. Your eyes screwed shut, you didn’t really have much of choice but you had never been so vulnerable in front of anyone. You’d hate to not be satisfactory for him.

“I promise,” his face softened, he had to practice some restrain, at least until he breaks you in, “Now come on out.”

You opened the door, your meek eyes fixed on your hardwood floor, your hands hugging your midsection. You blinked when he said nothing for several long, tortuous moments. Peaking a glance up at him you found him staring at you.

“Uh, do you like it?” you asked as your hands played with the helm of the teddy.

He almost scoffed. Like would be an understatement.

He knew pink would be your color. The nightie so short, clinging to your curves, your nipples pebbled against the satiny fabric, you looked like a sweet little doll and a whole fucking meal to devour at the same time. He would burst before he even got to touch you.

“Twirl,” he made the motion with his forefinger to demonstrate it, “Let me look at you better. And hands to your sides.”

You took a deep breath, letting your hands fall, doing as he had asked, your heart hammering in your chest because for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out if he actually liked you.

“Stop there,” he instructed when he got a look at your pert, round butt, the cloth barely covering it, he could see the imprints of the thong you wore.

“What are you thinking?” you asked.

“If I like your front better or your behind.” He almost chuckled at the incredulous gasp you let out. “Alright, look at me again.” Definitely the front, because he could see your beautiful face. Taking his original position on the bedding, “Come here,” he patted his lap.

Like the obedient wife that you aspired to be, you followed, perching yourself up on his lap, your arms around his neck for some support, looking into his lust blown, dark eyes.

You bite your lip when you felt that pressing into your thigh. Unable to bear his intense gaze you hid your face in the crook of his neck.

He hushed you, snuggling your soft body closer to his, his fingers drawing patterns on your hip, “How many men have you been with before?”

It didn’t really matter whatever your answer would be. But he wanted to tell you, that how ever many there were before him won’t matter anymore. From now on you are solely his.

“None,” you whispered so lowly that he almost couldn’t hear you.

“What?” Holding onto your chin so that he could make you look at him, “None? How is that possible?”

“I’ve just been waiting for the right one... I was going to with Alex but then didn’t...” you said as your hands caressed the coarse hair on his jaw.

He hummed, the fact that he would be your one and only, forever, only served to entice him further.

“Have you ever sucked a cock before?” he asked, although he knew the answer.

“No...”

“Don’t worry, I’ll guide you,” he promised, pushing on your shoulders to make you get on your knees.

You hissed at the cold floor, biting into the your calves and knees.

His dainty princess, he grabbed a throw pillow, instructing you to put it under, all the while staring at your cleavage peaking out like a creep.

Your eyes were fixated on his crotch, eager to see what a real penis looks like. You had watched some porn when you were a teen, out of sheer curiosity, but your friends had told you to lower your expectations. That real ones are much smaller and not so aesthetically pleasing.

You all but gasped when he took his cock out of the confines of his sweats, slapping over his abdomen. So big... and thick, with two veins over it, a bright flushed tip leaking with pre-ejaculate, and some soft hair dusted at the base of it.

You tried to stop yourself but then couldn’t help it, your hand shyly touching his tip yanking it down and then releasing it to see what happens. As suspected it flew back over, hard against his tummy, making you giggled.

“Oh gosh...” you slapped a palm over your mouth to stop from laughing.

He scrunched up the hair on the back of your head, yanking your neck back so that he could look at you, “What’s so funny?” he growled.

“Nothing,” you gulped, “It’s all just so strange and new... and exciting...”

He hummed as he took in your words. Grabbing the base of his cock as he rubbed his tip and precum all over your cheeks till your face was positively glowing with his essence.

“You wanna taste it?” he asked, to which you eagerly nodded.

Nudging your pouty lips with his tips before tapping on them when you didn’t get the clue, “Open.”

“Oh,” you said before opening as wide as you could, his length easing into your mouth. You hummed around him, the salty unique taste of him you had never really known before and couldn’t get enough of now.

He was barely halfway through inside you when he touched the back of your throat, he tutted, “Relax your throat,” he told you.

You didn’t really know what he meant but you tried loosening up all your muscles. Choking around him when he pushed in a few more inches.

Most of him was still out but it was as good as it’s gonna get, not that he’d ever complain... no... your mouth was like heaven. He had only known his hand for the past year Or so, and your mouth was almost too much.

Holding onto your face to keep it in place he started thrusting upwards into you, his heart swelling with tears escaped your eyes but you still tried to take more of him, to please him like the good girl that you were.

He stopped his hips, gently slapping your cheek to get your attention, “You always look at me when my dick is in your mouth. Got it?”

Since you couldn’t talk with your mouth full of cock, you just nodded.

You peered up at him innocently, fluttering your lashes, popping him out of your sloppy mouth, “Am I doing it right?” because you truly couldn’t tell.

He chuckled, smoothening a hand down your hair, “More than right... it’s too good but I want to come in your pussy. Maybe I’ll make you swallow my load latter, what do you think?”

“Yes, I’d like that,” you licked your lips to taste more of him.

“Get on the bed,” he ordered.

“Um... can I go fix my face before that,” you rubbed your mouth with the back of your hand, you doubted you looked very pretty to him then.

“No,” he stated, pulling you up by your armpits and all but throwing you on the bed.

You yelped and tried to protest, “I wanna look good for you...”

He pushed your legs apart to make room for him, smirking above you, eyeing you up as if you were a piece of meat, his prey, “This really does look pretty on you...” he rubbed the flimsy spagetti strap between his fingers, “but it’s served it’s purpose.”

You screamed, holding onto his wrists as he ripped the babydoll in two pieces, revealing your breasts to him, he yanked at it, throwing the remains away.

“That’s much better,” he gritted, pinching one of your peaks, capturing it in his mouth and suckling at it to his hearts content.

You pouted as you looked at the torn cloth, a bit upset that he ruined his gift to you. “I really liked that...” you sniffled. But couldn’t really ponder because Andy’s ravenous mouth was sucking hickies all over your breasts.

“I’ll buy you another one. I’ll buy you ten more,” he bit into the side of your breasts, your mewls and whines were like music to his ears.

“Andy...” you heaved, “Don’t leave marks... I have to go to dinner tomorrow to moms...”

He stopped abruptly, propping himself up above you and you were afraid that you had upset him, “You’re my wife now, honey. Your father gave you to me,” his hand snaking down your body, between your legs, he parted your moist lips, the pad of his fingers meeting your little pearl, “I can do whatever I want with you,” he reminded you, pushing a finger into you, “This cunt is mine now, got it?”

“Yess...” you whined as you squirmed under him, the invasion of his finger inside you too alien to your body.

“Which means you ask for permission before you touch yourself, or better yet, don’t touch yourself because that’s my job,” he stated.

“Have you ever made yourself come?” he asked, trailing soft kisses down your body till he settled between your legs, moving the strong of the thing to the side so he could get a better look at your virgin pussy, adding another finger inside you, your snug walls clinging to his digits, “You’re so fucking small. Can barely fit my finger. How will you take my cock,” he teased.

He’d make you take it.

You whimpered at the sting of it, “I’ll try, daddy...” throwing your head back as you massaged your breast.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking down at him when he stopped his ministrations, “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” he quirked a brow. “Do you realise what you just called me?”

You simply shook your head because you hadn’t really called him anything, “Andy?”

“No,” he huffed, “You called me daddy, honey.”

You gasped, you didn’t mean to say it out loud! “No...” you shook you head from side to side, trying to pull away from his fingers still knuckle deep inside you, “It can’t be!”

“Oh, but you did,” he laughed, “And you’re gonna say it again. In fact, from now on, when it’s just the two of us that’s the only thing that you will call me. Unless you wanna get punished...”

“Okay...” you said, still a bit unsure of it all.

You had always called him ‘daddy’ in your fantasies. It was maybe a bit expected for it to slip out like that but still so embarrassing. You said it again just to make sure that he actually wanted you to call him that and wasn’t just teasing you.

“Good girl,” he winked, latching his mouth around your clit, fucking you with his fingers as he kept sucking.

“Daddy...” you whined, biting on your hand to muffle some of your noises, a knot building up in the pit of your stomach, “Don’t stop, please!”

You gushed over his mouth, he lapped it all up, making sure nothing went to waste.

“You did good, honey,” he said, your cheeks heating up when you saw his beard glistening with your juices. He rolled your thong down your thick thighs, “You wear this to dinner tomorrow,” he told you. “Since I’m going to be a real husband from now on I pick out what you wear.”

All so he could see you in those pretty flowy dresses you wear sometimes, but you didn’t need to know that.

He hastily pushed his sweats and briefs past his hips, throwing them off the bed before pulling his t-shirt over his head.

You bit your lip at just the sight of him. His shoulders so broad, chest so wide, dark hair dusted all over his chest, you just knew then that all those hours he spent at the gym paid off, you knew he’d be ripped.

But you absolutely did not expect, someone as uptight as him to have numerous tattoos all over his torso.

Something inscribed in Sanskrit on his chest that you didn’t really understand... the logo of your family’s mob on just under his pectoral.

You sat up to get a better look at them, tracing a skull on his bicep that looked much less sophisticated than the others, the lines a bit scribbly, it was already fading.

“That’s the first one,” he interrupted you, “I was a kid back then, got my foster brother to do it.”

You pressed a kiss over it, “I love it.”

His blue eyes beamed at you, he was so beautiful...

“Now for your gift...” he circled your wrist bringing it down to his pelvis.

“Hm?” you looked down, tears brimming up in your eyes as you saw your name written on just beside his hipbone, next to his hard cock, standing tall against his stomach. In a small heart, dark ink against his pale skin, “When did you get it done?” you sniffles, touching his skin to feel the texture of the tattoo.

“A few weeks ago. I just... I’ve never belonged to anyone. Never had a family of my own. But now I have you, and you have me, I’m just as much yours as you’re mine,” he confessed, finally feeling the weight of it lifted off his shoulders. You were a blessing in disguise.

“I love you,” you beamed up at him.

“I love you too, doll, now come on,” he pushed you till you were on your back, “Daddy’s waited long enough. Can’t wiat to fill you up, make you mine.”

He planted a hand on the mattress, so he could see what he was doing to your virgin cunt, look at you and her, as he defiles you and makes you a woman, his thick manhood nudging your glistening lips as he eased into you, he felt you stretching around him, your face twisted in pain as you begged him to go easy on you, he halted when he felt your barrier.

He looked up at your pretty face, sparkling with his spend and your tears, your sweet little whimpers filled the room, he stayed still for a moment to let you get used to him, he knew he should take it easy.

His wife was a delicate, fragile, sweet little girl. He should be more gentle. A better husband and man would be. But he had his whole life to become a good man for you, tonight he just wanted to take what was rightfully his.

Letting out a deep, almost animalistic growl, piercing through your seal, your innocence till you were screeching, your nails drawing blood from the sides of his thighs.

“It hurts!” you screamed.

“It’ll only hurt for a little bit, doll. Just ride through it,” he cooed, stroking your sensitive clit to draw your attention away from the pain, he withdrew his hips before snapping them back till he was deep within your womb.

“You’re so snug, honey,” he grunted, not letting up his pace as he kept fucking into you,

A proud smirk gracing his face as he looked down to see himself covered in blood, a sticky mess of both your bodily fluids where your sexes were joined. His dick somehow grew harder inside you knowing how he took something from you that you’ll never be able to give someone else.

Slowly your crying and whining was subsiding as you got used to have him inside you, but he wanted to hear you scream for him in a different way. “Don’t you want to make your husband, no, your daddy happy, honey?” He asked, each word punctuated with a deep, harsh thrust into you.

You nodded, willing your tears away, cringing when you saw his crotch covered in your blood, “Yes I do, daddy. What do I do?”

“Your cute dumb brain always needs to be told what to do,” he chuckled, moving closer to you he circled his palms around your wrists, pinning them above you, “Wrap your legs around me.”

You followed along, wrapping your legs around his hips and hooking them together on his back. Closing your eyes when you felt your body seizing up, your pussy pulsating around his length when you felt the familiar feeling creep up on you.

“Look at me!” he barked and you immediately opened your eyes, “You look at me when I fuck you.”

You gulped and dared not close your eyes again. Even as you felt your orgasm wash over you, clenching around his length. His face was scrunched up, his neck, face and chest flush as he chased his own release till you felt his warm release coating your walls.

He collapsed above you, panting beside you he kissed your hair, “You liked that, babygirl?”

You let out a meek little yes. Feeling empty and void of his warmth and hardness when he pulled out of you before settling next to you.

“But...” you trailed off. Not finding it in you to bare yourself to him like that just yet.

“But what?” he whipped his head to look at you.

“But I’m sorry if I wasn’t very good!” Since you had simple laid there and took whatever he gave you. You had heard that men don’t like that...

“Don’t worry, honey, you were absolutely perfect,” he sighed. “You’ll get even better with practice, we’re gonna practice a lot from now on.”

You tried to cover your breasts up with the comforter, still awkward about being stark naked right next to a man, a man who looked as good as like Andy, but he swatted at your hands, reprimanding you and telling you to stay still and let him look at you to his hearts content.

Soon you felt your cunt throbbing back up again, still so raw from the loving Andy gave it, you tried rubbing your legs together to ease it a little bit.

“It still hurts?” Andy asked as you nodded.

He snaked a hand between your legs, massaging your little nub and your lips, tutting when you tried to pull away from his touch, “Shh I’m trying to make it hurt less.”

He hummed when he saw his seed leak out of you, pushing a finger in you, much to your displeasure, to keep it inside you, where it belonged.

He would make you go on some form of birth control as soon as he could. While the idea of you all round and plump with his kid was more than appealing, he didn’t want to share you with anyone else just yet. You were young, he had plenty of years to breed you.

“You’d make a good mother,” he wondered out loud.

“Hm?” you blinked at him. Squirming from the torture he was yielding on your overworked sex. His lips curled up in a twisted smile as he pulled his fingers out of you, wiping your blood on your soft nipples, painting them crimson as you shivered.

You looked at his cock, hard again against his stomach. “Does it hurt?” you asked, your hands twitching to touch it again.

“Yes, it does. Do you wanna help me get rid of the pain?”

“Mm... can I use my mouth again? I’m sore...”

“It’s okay, honey, you’ll get used to it,” he promised, grabbing your hips and pulling you on top of him, your palms pressed into his abdomen as you looked so wrecked, “Guide me in,” he ordered.

You shook your head which earned you a harsh slap on your ass so you held onto the base of his cock, parting your intimate lips, before slowly sinking down on him.

You sighed as you settled, sitting on top of him with his cock nestled inside you, so full and strangely satisfied, his warmth soothing your aching walls, he spanked you again to remind you to move, so you started bouncing on top of him the best you could.

His hand groped at your bouncing titts before he wrapped a hand around your throat, applying the slightest bit of pressure as you whimpered and cried, just to remind you who’s in charge, not that you’d forget anytime soon.

His only regret was that he hadn’t done this sooner. He was an idiot to ever resist an angel like you. He’ll have to do a lot to make up for lost time.

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm. Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

[dathen]

Okay I have some complicated thoughts following Melanie’s arc that all build on top of each other and hinge HEAVILY on unreliable narrator interpretations so bear with me

In my relisten I’m at the beginning of s3, and it always shocks me a bit at how quickly she interprets Martin’s interaction with her as hostile.  I’m going to skip over the “it’s understandable, Melanie’s had a hard time in her career” disclaimers since there’s plenty of meta on that already, and instead follow the effects of this tendency: not on others, this time, but on her

(This got absurdly long and covers so many episodes so I’m going to split it into separate pre- and post-bullet surgery posts)

Rewinding a bit, the last time she was at the Institute, she was starting to get along with Jon before he seemed confused about her comment on “the other Sasha.”  It takes her a split second to interpret that confusion as him suddenly deciding to gaslight and mock her, gets angry and tells him there is something seriously wrong with him, and leaves before he can ask what she means.  Given how tenuous their truce was and the fact she and Jon had mocked each other in the past, it’s an outburst that at least has some personal history behind it.

But only a couple episodes later, we learn that it’s not just Jon she responds to in this way.  In TMA 84, she meets our Martin Blackwood!  Customer service voice opposite-of-Jon politeness extraordinaire!  And as soon as he gets confused about the two Sasha comment, she.......immediately assumes that HE is also trying to gaslight her.  She insists that “I’m not doing this again” without giving him a chance to ask or explain, so they miss the opportunity to piece together the deal with the Not!Sasha.  Her doing this with someone she just met shows a much broader pattern than her interactions with Jon.

That very episode, Elias offers Melanie a job, and she accepts despite Martin’s protests.  Later, she accuses them all of them being an “old boy’s club” because she interpreted Martin’s warnings as sexism rather than trying to protect her.  As the audience, we see the unreliable narrator of her perspective at work: we know that Jon and Martin were genuinely confused, and we know that Martin was trying to save her, and that all of these instances were her seeing it as people being out to get her.

Hop forward to the notorious gossip scene in TMA 106.  Here, Melanie complains about Martin being hostile to her.  My first assumption was that this was all offscreen, but after this parade of misinterpretation and comparing to her and Martin’s actual interactions, I have to wonder:

TMA 84, after Martin tells Melanie about the murder, and right before Elias interrupts:

Martin:  Are you sure you’re alright?

Melanie:  Yes!  I just got… God, I’m kind of at the end, you know?

Martin:  The end of what?

Melanie:   Everything.  Friends, clues, savings. Everything.  Options.  There’s nowhere left for me to go . I don’t know why, but…  I just, I just felt that perhaps coming here might help.  And talking things out with Jon.  I mean, I mean he’s awful, but at least he listens, you know?

Martin:   (soft) Yeah.  ...I’m sorry.  Um, is there anything that I could, like, maybe...do for you?

They get interrupted immediately after this, so this was the first impression Melanie was given.  Then, when Elias offers the job, she...assumes Martin’s “I don’t think that’s a good idea” is from sexism, when he’d just been talking about murders and disappearances that caused that very job opening.

TMA 88 

Melanie:   Are you alright?

Martin:  Yeah… Sorry, just a lot of change recently, y’know.  You and John and Sasha and… everything’s gone a bit wrong.  It’s the not knowing, you know?  I mean, Jon’s still alive.  Not sure why, but I’m sure of that.  But Sasha, I…

Melanie:   Yes, it’s… it’s probably, um…

Martin:   Sorry, sorry, I’m...  What do you need?

Next interaction!  Oh this one HURTS.  Martin takes her question literally, and starts telling her why she’s not alright, a reverse of their earlier exchange.  But Melanie came by for a question and wasn’t prepared for an honest answer, so Martin quickly reels it in and asks what he can do for her once again.

Skipping forward a bit in that same scene:

Martin:   Oh, you weren’t here when we took the place over from Gertrude!  It’s been over a year just to get it like this.  I mean, I think the database was on Jon’s list, but--

Melanie:  So how do you track someone down?

Martin:   Oh, oh well, y’know, we’ve a few contacts in various record offices around the place.  Aside from that it’s just… just a bit of detective work, really.  Tim used to do a great line in impersonating people to utility companies!  Heh, the number of times he got them to give him ‘his own’ address--

Melanie:  Right, right… Um, this one, the name is 'Jude Perry.’ Doesn’t mean anything to you, does it?

I LOVE THIS EXCHANGE.  I TREASURE IT.  Having bottled up his emotions, Martin is going in full Friendly Helpful Coworker mode.  There are so many little details here signaling that he’s embracing her as part of the team, sharing anecdotes about Tim’s shenanigans and Jon’s old plans, looping her in as One of Them as he helps her get what she needs.  This is the kind of approach you go to management trainings to get, to help new hires feel welcome and part of things.  But alas, Melanie is in a hurry and wants to cut to the chase, so all this is lost on her.

TMA 98 - I won’t copy it all in here because it’s long, but this is an overwhelmingly positive interaction.  She asks if he’s okay, but he bottles it up and says he’s fine.  This time, she presses, and he admits it’s because of the statements.  Martin ends up asking for help!! and Melanie agrees!  She’s on the way to murder Elias, but she still gets credit for “I’ll ask him to cut you some slack.”  Then she invites him to drinks!

And then.... TMA 106

Melanie:   Anyway, Martin’s always been lovely to you.

Basira:  Hmm. I don’t know, I mean, you should have seen him when I turned up last year. I think he thought I was trying to steal his precious Archivist.

Melanie:   Ahhh. I got the exact same when Jon was hiding out, and came to me with his “source on the inside” stuff.  Martin was not impressed.

WAIT WHAT

We just looked over all their interactions!  They were all soft and lovely and welcoming!!  But then we hear Melanie with “well unlike how he is to me, Martin is nice to you.”  This was taken at face value for years, but when you line up all of the above, I feel there is a strong basis to say this is another case of Melanie’s first impressions + over-defensiveness gone wrong.  Just like we saw her initial bickerings with Jon solidify into series-long hostility, her interpreting Martin’s confusion as gaslighting and warnings about the job as sexism seems to have doomed her opinion of him long-term.  We hear Martin being kind and concerned and welcoming, then hear Melanie contrast it as bad treatment.

Recently, a mutual considered this even further to how she talked about losing all of her friends with the Ghost Hunt UK circles:

Melanie:  Even back then, I could feel all my old friends starting to distance themselves from me. ...  I stopped asking the others for help, and I kept my research to myself. I talked to them less and less. By the time I was arrested, I think a lot of them had already given up on me.

I have to wonder...did this sort of dynamic play out here, too?  Did she assume that her friends’ concern was judgment or hostility?  Were they giving up on her, or did she lash out and push them away?  Either way, it’s easy to see parallels to s2 Jon in her description, here, with her withdrawing and diving alone into increasingly risky research without asking for help.  And s2 Jon definitely shared Melanie’s tendency to see offers for help and support as hostile.  (Aside:  I interpret her and Georgie as not very close at this point, like a networking contact rather than a friend; Melanie comes to Jon for someone to talk to about her struggles above her, and Georgie seems to be unaware of all of Melanie’s encounters pre-s3)

And on that downer note I am ending part 1...but PART 2 IS GOING TO BE WAY HAPPIER THAN THIS.  Here, we see Melanie with a lot of people who would have supported her if she let them:  Martin, Jon, possibly the friends she said abandoned her.  But in her effort to protect herself and not let history repeat for how she’d been hurt in the past, she ends up alone and spiraling.

[thatfanficstuff]

Her Three Kings - Chapter Thirty-three

A Volturi Kings x OFC story

warnings: um...no?

A/N: Short chapter but this is where I needed to cut. First part is in no one's POV because I head hopped a bit and I liked it. Enjoy

divider by @ firefly-graphics

As soon as the door shut behind them, Aro turned back to the vampires that had accompanied his mate. He’d been utterly appalled by some of the information he’d pulled from her mind. “She hid as much of this as possible from us. Did she speak of it to you?” His question was directed to her siblings, Jasper in particular.

It was Alice that answered, however. “A bit. Mostly she talked about the three of you. We encouraged her to speak with you. It wasn’t like her to do otherwise.” She shrugged. “Now we know why, I guess.”

“Lest you forget, brother, not all of us saw what you did. Do you mind filling in the rest of us?” Marcus’ voice was far more clipped than usual.

Aro nodded. “Jasper, give him the letter if you would.”

He pulled the now wrinkled paper from his back pocket and handed it to Marcus. Aro watched his brother’s face while he read. With every word he looked more distraught.

“I didn’t write this. I would never…”

“What?” Caius snapped and zoomed over to snatch the paper away. His eyes scanned the paper. “This is clearly your handwriting, Marcus.”

“The boy said he hired someone to forge the letters,” Garrett offered.

The paper crinkled in Caius’ hand as he clenched it into a fist. “And she thought we wrote this? This is why she left?”

Jasper nodded once. “It is.”

“What of her bonds, brother?” Aro asked.

Marcus shook his head. “None of them are as strong as they should be. They’ve all been damaged. Except Jasper’s. Garrett’s seems almost back to normal as well.”

“Yeah, why is it that Jasper was never affected by the boy’s gift?” Garrett asked. “That’s been bugging the shit out of me.”

“His name was Sebastian,” Alice said in a soft voice.

Garrett lifted one brow. “I don’t care.”

Caius frowned. “Sebastian didn’t possess a gift. Aro would have seen.”

“He did. Then the guard’s little girlfriend would manipulate the memories,” Peter said.

“Bianca?” Marcus was truly shocked. How had he not seen their connection? Then it occurred to him that she had probably interfered with his memories as well. How much damage had those two done? “Well, at least we know why she was the target.”

“Not just her,” Alice corrected. “He wanted you to have to live without her. Once he saw that his manipulations were weakening the bonds, he increased his efforts. He knew what it would do to her.”

Marcus straightened and his gaze narrowed. “Manipulate how?”

“He could affect the emotions of either party of the bond as long as he was in contact with one of them.” Disgust laced Aro’s voice.

Marcus ran a hand down his face. “This is horrific. I don’t know how to even start repairing the damage he’s caused.”

“Once I spent some time with her and kept that fucker from touching her anymore, our bond returned to normal. Maybe that’s all it will take.” Garrett crossed his arms over his chest and glanced at the door they’d taken Lily through.

“That’s why he had to resort to the letters,” Caius said. “We always spent time with her, and when we’re with her the guard don’t have to be. It kept our bonds stronger.”

“That’s great.” The irritation in Garrett’s voice caught everyone’s attention. “But what about Jasper? He was an ocean and a continent away. How’s that work?”

Marcus’ brows lifted as he looked his mate’s soul brother over from top to bottom. “My guess would be the Major had something to do with that. His bond with Lily is formed by two strands instead of one. The Major is as much her brother as Jasper is. It strengthened the bond to the point he wasn’t affected.”

Jasper ran a hand through his hair. “I was. I mean I would feel when he tried to mess with the emotions but I could brush it aside. I didn’t know what exactly was going on but I fought it.”

“Your gift may have helped you pick up on the manipulation as well,” Aro suggested.

“Well, if Sebastian was here, we could experiment but you lot killed him,” Caius snapped.

The three soldiers turned their heads in unison to glare at the blond king. The action sent a shiver of unease up his spine though he’d never admit it. They held his gaze for a long moment and it was Jasper that spoke to break the silence. “We killed a traitor by order of our queen. Our loyalty is to her. Not you.”

When they arrived at the door of Aro’s bedroom, Demetri sat Lily on her feet. “The Master’s bedroom as ordered. Is there anything else the Mistress requires?”

She ran her gaze between her two friends. “Aren’t you coming in?”

“We can better fulfill our duties if we remain out here, Mistress,” Jane said.

“Oh.” Liliana’s shoulders slumped forward a bit. Ordinarily, she’d straighten her spine and hold her head high to show that they hadn’t gotten to her but she just couldn’t bring herself to care. Not anymore.

When she tried to open the door, she found that she simply didn’t have the strength. Demetri came to her rescue with a furrowed brow as he looked her over. He probably wanted even less to do with her now. She was a poor excuse for a vampire. An even worse excuse for a queen.

She stumbled over to the dresser, suddenly desperate to change her clothes and curl up under the blankets on Aro’s bed. She frowned as she pulled open the first drawer and found it empty. The next two were as well. All of her clothes were gone. A look in the closet showed the same thing.

She reached for one of Aro’s shirts before pulling away. He may not want her wearing his things. She turned and glanced around the room, noticing all of her things were missing. Wow. She hadn’t even been gone that long and he’d removed every trace of her.

Tears flowed down her cheeks again and she sighed. She was so tired of crying. Tired of hurting. Just tired. She slid down the wall behind her to sit on the floor and pulled her knees up to her chest. After wrapping her arms around her legs, she closed her eyes and focused on her bonds.

She began with her mates. Anger. Sadness. Disappointment. Irritation. None of the happiness she’d been hoping to find with her return. The other bonds were just as bad. Pain flared through her as she connected with the emotions flowing on the bonds. She could feel it all. Could feel everything.

Those that had been close enough to her to form strong bonds only had to deal with the effects of one weakening bond. She had so many and she felt them all at once. And it hurt. Gods, it ached deep inside and clung to her no matter how hard she tried to shake it off. She tried to place a firmer block on the emotions, but that only seemed to weaken the bonds further.

There was no way to fix this, to repair all the damage Sebastian had done. And frankly, Lily didn’t know how much longer she could last. She could only hope her mates figured something out before it was too late.

[estrel]

for #spnprideweek day 1: coming out + flags

↳ summary: cas tells sam a secret that he hasn’t (really) told anybody else. surprisingly, sam has one too.  PRIDE series | gen, sam & cas | word count: 1.7k

[READ ON AO3]

Sam’s grimacing a little at the grease from the fries on Cas’ plate. Cas would usually make a comment, here, about Sam keeping his eyes on his own paper, or that it isn’t nearly as bad as the veggie burger sitting on his plate at Sam’s behest. This is the recompense, Cas wants to say, but his mouth is dry and no words are coming out even if he wants them to.

Accompanying the inability to speak is the twisting feeling in his gut that won’t even allow him to pick up the burger. The smell is too much, too, and Cas hates to admit it but it’s probably the grease, so he sits back a little against the peeling seat of the booth to calm his nerves.

It’s just Sam. He can do this. It’s only that this is the first time he’s telling anyone, and that definitely ups the stakes a little.

Well, that’s somewhat of a lie. Cas had told the nice woman at the grocery store check out last week when he’d seen her little pin on her work uniform and asked where he could get one. 

He hadn’t actually bought one, of course, but Cas eyed the small bin full of brightly colored pins on the way out, convincing himself it was stupid to get back in line again for something so small and inexpensive. Still, he’d thought about it on the drive back to the Bunker, and that night in his bed, and the full week following, up until now. 

Now, Sam was looking at him with concern, and wiping his mouth in that way that means he’s about to get serious.

“Is everything alright?” he asks, pointedly looking down at Cas’ loaded plate. He’d barely taken a bite, except for a few nibbles of his admittedly greasy fries. And it was weird because since becoming human, Cas' appetite had grown considerably, much to Dean's delight.

And—Dean. That's what this was all about, wasn't it? Sure, it was more than just Dean, it was all the humans that had made Cas' body ache like it hadn't before, had made him think of what it means to be in this vessel—his body—and be attracted to other...humans.

It was odd. In hindsight, things in Heaven had been so much easier in this regard. Cas had spent most of his life clueless to the capabilities of human attraction, and then he met Dean and it all came crashing down around him. Only then, Cas was ignoring it. He was facing the other way, because though he felt human, he wasn't. Not really.

But everything is different now.

Cas clears his throat.

"Well," he starts, "no. I am feeling what I believe you’d call...anxiety. My stomach hurts, I find I'm unable to eat, a-and my hands are—"

"Cas," Sam interrupts. Shaking. Cas' hands are shaking.

Sam's fully set his fork and knife down now, hands clasped together on the edge of the table. "Talk to me."

Cas licks his dry lips.

"It’s not...it isn’t a big deal, really,” and yet Cas can feel his heart hammering in his chest. He sucks in a breath. “But I’m, uh. I wanted to tell you that...I like men.”

Sam’s expression doesn’t change, but he blinks at Cas once from across the table.

“Okay.”

Cas raises an eyebrow, pulse slowing down a little with his next exhale. “Okay?”

Maybe it was that simple, and Cas was worrying over nothing. It’s just...this feels like it should be bigger. Earth-shattering. Like Sam should either hug him or tell him he never wants to speak to Cas again.

Instead, he just shrugs, picks up his fork and pushes bits of his salad around his plate.

But then Cas’ gaze moves to Sam’s face and...Sam’s frowning. Cas feels his heart thumping hard again, waiting for the ball to drop. It feels a little like when Dean sat him down to “talk,” right after he lost his powers, and, well. Cas knew how that had ended. He braces himself for the worst, schools his features to something more neutral.

“I’m,” Sam clears his throat, “I’m sorry you got nervous over all of that. I-I get that coming out is...” he laughs, “usually a bigger deal, but. You don’t have to worry with me, you know? I get it.”

That makes Cas pause. “You...do?”

Now Sam’s looking at him, eyes a little wide, but he works his jaw and gets the words out. “Yeah. Uh... well I guess now’s a good a time as any to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

The fork is set back down again. The bell over the diner door jingles. 

“In college...you know about Jess,” Sam says, jogging Cas’ memory. He knows, so he nods and Sam continues, “Well we uh. We actually met in a Gender Studies class. I thought, ‘pff, easy A,’ but it was actually way more complex than I originally thought, so she kind of...tutored me.” Cas raises an eyebrow, and Sam rolls his eyes.

“Actually tutored me. Whatever. Point is, I learned a lot—‘cause she was a great teacher—and...not just about the class, but about myself, too.” 

Cas nods slowly, beginning to catch Sam’s drift. “Okay...”

Despite his tone, Sam’s posture stiffens a little, like he’s uncomfortable, or not really used to this type of conversation. Cas does his best to relax into his seat to ease him, unfolding his arms.

“What I’m saying is,” Sam shrugs, “I’m...not...cis. Like, I don’t....I’m not um, a guy, I guess. Well, sort of. I’m non-binary.”

Cas is silent for a second, mulling it over in his head. Eventually it becomes long enough for Sam to say, “Uh...you know what? You can forget it, man—”

“No!” Cas says, almost knocking over his plate in the process. The silverware clatters as it falls onto the table, and Sam flinches a little. “I was just thinking...I want to apologize if anything I’ve said about your gender has ever made you uncomfortable, or if you—”

Sam’s out-facing palm makes Cas stutter to a stop. There’s a weird guilt settling in the pit of his stomach, and the anxiety that he’d thought was gone is back full force again. Cas tears off a piece of his napkin.

“Cas, dude. Calm down,” Sam laughs. He takes a deep breath, and Cas follows his lead. They breathe in and out together for a beat, and when Cas feels fairly calmer, Sam pushes both of their plates aside.

“There’s no need to apologize for something you couldn’t have known about,” he starts, shaking his head a little, “and you haven’t done anything wrong, either. I still use he and him pronouns, and sometimes they and them. And besides, it’s not like I go around telling people. Especially with, uh, the way I was raised...I’ve been hesitant, you know? It was great in college, people were really supportive when I told them. But then when I started hunting again...I don’t know. 

“My dad...uh. I tried telling him, once. Didn’t go too well, so I didn’t try it again. I think that’s why Dean...” he shakes his head, frowning down at the table again. “It wasn’t easy, growing up the way we did. You could probably understand that.”

Cas nods. Under the table, his napkin is shredded into bits. 

“I do. I think, in a way, I also understand being trans.” Sam jerks their head up, intrigued. 

“Angels...we don’t experience gender the same way humans do. In fact, the concept is entirely nonexistent in Heaven. So, when we take vessels...”

“You’re essentially defining yourself,” Sam says in awe. It makes Cas smile to see them back in their element, leaning forward a little to listen better. “I never thought about it that way, not really.”

Cas shrugs. “I’m not sure all of my siblings did, either. Many chose according to which vessel would best suit them and their form. That was definitely a factor in me choosing Jimmy, but I also found the thought of looking like a human man...greatly appealing.”

Sam’s nodding now, gaze darting to different parts of the table. Cas knows that means they’re mentally crafting an essay right about now, or thinking of what books in the Bunker might further help in their research about it.

“Wow,” he says, “that’s—I mean. Wow, Cas. Thanks for telling me that. And uh, the other thing.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

There’s a comfortable silence between them now, and Cas takes it as an opportunity to sip from his slightly-melted iced tea. 

“So,” Sam starts again slowly, “have you told Dean?”

Cas sucks in another deep breath, and Sam nods. “Yeah,” he says, “me neither.”

It surprises Cas a little that Sam hasn’t told him, and he expresses that with an inquiring eyebrow. 

Sam purses his lips and dodges the unspoken question. “Dean’s not a bad guy. You probably know that better than anyone except me. You know he’d still love you if you told him.”

Cas’ heart pounds at the mention of the word. When Sam notices, he feels his ears begin to heat with a blush. 

“Oh,” Sam smiles, “that. I figured. For a while now, but I didn’t wanna say anything.”

Cas tries to will away the heat on his face. He doesn’t say anything, so Sam leaves it be.

The waitress gives them a worried look when she brings the check, eyeing their barely touched plates. They both smile apologetically, insisting that their food was “great” when she whisks it away.

On their way back home, Cas asks if Sam can stop at the store. They don’t ask anything more than, “we need groceries that bad?” and Cas dips inside. He knows this is just like any other grocery run—going in and out as quick as possible with the things they need—yet his heart hammers all the same when he stops in front of the bin near the door. The same employee from last week is working on lane six, and he’s sure to check out at that one with his goods. She gives him a knowing smile.

Cas flops into the passenger seat, a little out of breath.

“That was fast,” Sam starts to say, before noticing Cas’ lack of grocery bags. “Dude. What d’you buy, air?”

Instead, Cas brandishes two brightly colored pins. Sam tentatively takes the yellow, white, purple, and black one, eyes wide.

“For me?” they ask.

Cas smiles, running his thumb over the rainbow one in his hand. 

“For both of us,” he says.

[@spnprideweek]