#she was so right when she said this i am she
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bunnis-monsters · 22 hours ago
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Hybrid Shelter Prologue
warning: mentions of abuse, injuries, some yandereish behavior, and violence
You’ve been working at the hybrid shelter for a few weeks now. It wasn’t an easy job, tending to injured, abused, and scared hybrids, but you did your best.
This was just a part time job until you were able to find something better. Of course you cared about the hybrids, but the money you made wasn’t enough.
You had two other part time jobs that took your time away, and although you loved working at the hybrid shelter, it was only a temporary thing.
Most days were full of games, movies marathons, the occasional check up, and lots of bonding. After all, the goal was to help these hybrids figure out what they wanted. If they wanted to be independent, be a pet, or return/live in the wild.
Today was a bad day, though.
You woke up at 3 am to a call, asking you to come into the shelter early.
“It’s an emergency,” your boss said, taking a moment to breathe before continuing. “A new hybrid came in… you’ll understand when you get here.”
And your boss was right, you understood the second you walked in.
In the corner of the lounge was a cat hybrid. He was backed against the wall, hissing and spitting as his tail puffed up.
“Stay away from me, don’t you dare get any closer!”
All the other workers were covered in scratches, glancing at one another in concern.
“His file,” your boss said from behind you, handing you a folder. “A tale as old as time. Human buys a cat hybrid from a backyard breeder, doesn’t know how to take care of him. The owner abused the poor thing then dropped him off at our door… he was scared and confused, and when we said his owner abandoned him…”
Your nods gestured to the cat hybrid, sighing. “This happened.”
You took a moment to read his file, frowning before you handed the folder back. “Alright, I’ll give it a try. Get a room ready in the infirmary, we’ll need to do a checkup and make sure his vaccinations are up to date.”
The cat hybrid’s ears pinned back as you approached, his tail lashing dangerously. “Don’t take another step closer, I’ll-“
His ears unfolded when you sat down a few feet away from him, giving the scared hybrid a kind smile. “Alright, I’ll stay right here then. Is that alright?”
Though his tail continued to sway erratically, the cat hybrid slowly lowered himself to the ground to match your stance.
“…”
He stayed quiet, eyeing you. All you did was sit there, watching his body language and slowly scooting closer.
“You don’t have to be afraid. I know it can be scary coming to a new place, but there’s other cat hybrids just like you here. They’re all happy, and I take care of them myself.”
He sniffed the air to confirm your words, picking up the scent of other hybrids on you. “… and… you don’t hit them?”
Those words tore at your heart, but you didn’t let it show. You kept a calm smile on your face as you nodded slowly. “No… there’s no hitting here. No punishments either.”
He hesitantly reached out a hand, placing it on your leg before pulling it back. Testing the waters was a good sign. “Will my owner come back?”
“Most likely not… and even if we did, we wouldn’t let them hurt you. Never again.”
With that, he slowly moved forward, leaning until his head rested on your lap, a sign of trust. You gently scratched behind his ears, a soft purr coming from him.
“There you go… that’s a good boy.”
Your boss watched this interaction from a distance, picking up his phone. “Yeah, I think she’s the one. I’ve never seen a hybrid calm down so quickly, she might have the thing we’ve been looking for.”
The rest of the day, the cat hybrid cling to your side, enduring the medical exam only if it meant he got to hold onto your arm.
Already he was scenting you, just like many of the other hybrids did. You were unaware how many had already put their “claim” on you, and how that would affect your future at the shelter.
Leaving wasn’t easy, the cat hybrid, who you named Midnight because of his dark hair, was attached to your hip. He cried and buried his face into your neck when you got ready to leave, only agreeing to let go of you with the promise you’d be back tomorrow.
“Mine… don’t want you to go…” he murmured, just quiet enough for you to not hear.
The next morning you woke up to a text message from your boss. Through your bleary vision you were barely able to make out what it said.
‘Dear (Name), you have been offered a chance to work as a full time employee. You’ll be paid $30 an hour, and you can start tomorrow. Please reply to confirm.’
Although you felt happy, something about the message felt off. Regardless, you needed the money and accepted immediately.
Soon your life would become hectic and full of mystery, but you wouldn’t find that out until later.
Now, you rolled back over and went to back to sleep until your shift began.
——————
Comment to be added to the Hybrid Shelter taglist. There may be some nsfw and yandere elements in the future! For now I’m using the nsfw taglist, but the next post I’ll be tagging those who comment.
NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi
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whorelaud · 20 hours ago
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OFF LIMITS – rafe cameron ¡ (07)
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social media & irl AU !
pairing brother's best friend!rafe cameron x brat!reader summary you slide into a random boy's dms on instagram, anything but expecting him to end up being your brother's best friend, let alone the person you'll be spending your summer vacation with. while resisting Rafe and his lingering gazes was an option, you found yourself in the constant loop of crossing the line; said line being your brother. ch content mature content, nsfw (nothing too explicit, it gets interrupted), suggestive, making out, pet names, unresolved tension, fluff, sexual jokes, desperate rafe (mhmmmm), brief mention of cocaine
NAVIGATION. series masterlist | 06 ! 07 ¡ 08
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↳ yourusername replied to your story: hey… that’s not very nice :( 
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Rafe kissed you. 
It wasn’t a dream, nor was it accidental. Rafe Cameron, whom you marked off limits, kissed you, and hell, did you enjoy every second of it. 
From that moment on, every minute you spent within his presence felt like living on edge; sneaking behind your brother’s back to enjoy his company, aware of the consequences, and the heartbreak that would result out of the truth. 
Liking Rafe was like a calm after the storm, the moment your eyes land on him, time stops, and you forget all your worries. How were you supposed to resist him, when he’s your only escape from reality? The only person who’s ever made your heart rate increase in pace within a span of seconds. 
Getting a casual conversation out of a guy, without it oscillating to something sexual was difficult in this society, however, with Rafe, it was easy. His eyes bloomed with more than just lust, it made all your doubts about finding the one fade, and that alone, would have younger you screaming. 
Because what do you mean there’s a man out there that lines up with everything you’ve dreamed of and more, the puzzle you’ve been missing your whole life, merely for him to end up being your brother’s best friend, someone so forbidden, it burns when his touch lingers.
A bob formed in your throat, one hard to swallow down, that as much as it stings, you chose to bear it, even if it goes against the trust you formed with your brother. You told yourself it was okay, Ryan won’t overreact if he found out, right?
With a few touches, you managed to head downstairs, with everyone rushing you to come out, starting with Ryan, who somehow managed to call you fifteen times in the span of a minute. To your surprise, it wasn’t him driving, though, but Rafe? 
You slightly halted when he greeted you with a smile, one hidden from everyone else’s eyes. A pair of sunglasses hugged the bridge of his nose, covering the glint of cockiness swelling through his gaze. 
Reaching for the door handle, you quickly smiled at the sight of Sarah as she perked up from her seat once she seized sight of you. A grin formed on your lips, joining the girl’s side, completely forgetting yourself in her embrace, that Ryan’s scoldings barely registered in your system.
“Your brother is such a dick,” she joked, eyebrows furrowing with fake annoyance. “I couldn’t even properly get ready ‘cause of him.” 
“Me?” He gasped, irritated by the ‘false’ remark. “You’re the one busy eating your boyfriend’s face!” 
“Why am I getting involved?” John B chimed from Sarah’s side. “I was helping her out.” 
“Yeah?” Ryan muttered in a mocking tone, “How so?” 
“I do not want to know that.” Rafe clicked his teeth, dismissing Ryan’s question with his statement. 
“You shut the fuck up.” Ryan scoffed, a sour expression smeared over his face. “Lending JJ my car? God knows what will happen to it.” 
“JJ’s not a bad driver…” you trailed off, earning a dirty glare from your brother. “What?! Unless he’s drunk off his mind, then you’re good. He was always in charge of Twinkie.” 
“That horrendous Van?” Ryan asked, voice filled with disbelief. “My baby and that ugly thing are two different things, don’t you dare compare them.” 
“Alright man,” John B started, “At least it gets the job done.” 
“Why are you picking a fight with everyone?” Rafe chuckled, pulling out of the driveway. “Sit back and relax, don’t stress your pretty lil’ brain out.” 
“Gross.” Sarah muttered under her breath, nose scrunching with disgust. 
“Can I get aux?” You asked, earning Rafe’s attention as he seeked the chord plugged to the speakers, immediately offering it to you from over his shoulder when it was within his reach. “Thank you.” 
“Mhm.” He hummed, the grogginess in his tone rattling through your chest. 
“Why is she in control of aux?” Ryan perked up at the act, addressing Rafe with his question. “I thought we agreed I’d be in charge.” 
“That’s in bed, baby.” Rafe flashed him a tight-lipped smile, sparing him a glimpse for a second, before his attention was back on the road. His fingers found the curve of Ryan’s jaw, using the tip of the digits to scratch the latter’s chin. 
“Move!” He slapped Rafe’s hand away, lips jutting into a frown. “Why’s everyone ganging up on me today?” 
“‘Kay, stop acting like a bitch.” You started, further getting on your brother’s nerves. “Should’ve stayed home.” 
Rafe’s arm blocked Ryan from shooting off his seat, a glint of amusement smothering through his expression. If one could calm Ryan, it was definitely Rafe. Considering their differences, they get along quite well, perhaps why they’ve made it together far this long. 
The rest of the car ride filled with havoc, as both you and Sarah sang along to the lyrics, while John B sat back and watched, admiring his girlfriend with so much love, you were envious. Oh to openly stare and have it not be a problem; was that too much to ask for? 
A pit of jealousy laid low in your stomach, gaze shifting back to Rafe, whose eyes were glued to the road. Or so you thought, as his pupils caught you staring through the rearview mirror, not breaking the contact in hopes of you noticing him, even for a mere second. 
The action was cut short when Ryan took notice of the situation, eyebrows furrowing with puzzlement as he directed his attention to you in a swift movement. His face pressed to the leather seats, reaching over the dashboard, and flicking your arm with the intent of capturing your focus. 
“Where’s your wallet?” He asked, voice muffled due to the melody playing in the background. 
“My wallet?” You repeated, afraid you heard the phrase wrong. “Why do you need my wallet?” 
“I put my ID in there,” he explained, searching for the object with his gaze. “Figured you’d have it on you.” 
You rolled your eyes, patting around your seat, in an attempt to grab your wallet, instantly coming to a halt as realization washed over. “Wait.” 
“What?” Ryan mumbled. 
“Did I get my wallet?” You asked, the question mostly to yourself. “I think I forgot my wallet.” You stated, peeking down the seats, in case it fell by accident. “You idiot, this is all your fault!” 
“How is it my fault?!” He shot back, “Who forgets their wallet? That’s totally on you!” 
“Yeah, own one then come talk.” You stifled out a sarcastic laugh, crying out with frustration. “This is so annoying, can’t we go back?” 
“That’s a twenty minute drive from here.” Rafe answered, “I’d go back, but that would delay our plans.” 
“Yeah,” Sarah agreed, rubbing soothing circles to the blade of your shoulder. “It’s fine, you can jus’ use my card, baby.” 
“It’s okay Sarah,” you groaned, falling back in your seat. “That’s not necessary.” 
“Oh come on, are you scared I’ll put you on a budget?” Sarah teased, attempting to ease your discomfort. “Don’t worry, I’ll sugar mama you.” 
A giggled escaped your throat at her words, mockingly sticking out your tongue when Ryan flipped you off. While Sarah strived to comfort you, worry yet washed over your expression, contemplating how you were going to spend the next few hours, with nothing but your phone on you. 
The passing few minutes felt like an eternity upon your arrival, quickly joined by your friends once Rafe was all parked. It was fun, despite your friends insisting they’d pay for you, you still refused, shaking your head anytime they offered to buy you something that caught your interest. 
Rafe noticed your shift in mood, cracking a joke every now and then, for a mere reaction out of you. And surprisingly, it worked, the latter managed to squeeze a giggle out of you, ridiculed by the horrible dad jokes he added in between conversations. 
“Is it hot?” Rafe questioned, eyebrows furrowing with concern at the droplets of sweat trickling down your neck. 
“Hmm?” You hummed, lips jutting with confusion. “It’s not bad.” 
“Yeah?” He teased, gaze flickering to your hand, as you patted your neck dry with the gesture. “Want something to drink?” 
“What? No.” You shook your head, admiring while your friends observed the handbags displayed on the counter. “I’m fine.” 
“Hey uh,” Rafe’s voice suddenly broke out, earning everyone’s attention in the process. “We’re grabbing drinks, do you guys want anything?
Your gaze fixed on Rafe with disbelief, taken aback when he tugged your wrist, nodding along to your friends’ requests. Ryan took in the scene with confusion, mind racing with all sorts of thoughts, over why he shouldn’t reach over and yank Rafe’s hold off, forcing the fact that he was his best friend, he wouldn’t do such a thing, and betray his trust. 
And if Rafe saw, he didn’t say a thing, choosing to not acknowledge it as he dragged you with him to the main lobby surrounded by different varieties of fast foods’ restaurants. Rafe let go of your hand, upon standing in line, with you already missing the warmness of his touch, breath hitching when he stood close enough for you to take a whiff of his musky cologne.
“Hey, how are you doing?” Rafe flashed the cashier a polite smile once it was your turn, eyes hovering over the menu displayed on the screens. “Can I get a uhh…” 
You took Rafe's side while he listed your friends’ orders, stiffening when he turned to face you, with the purpose of asking for what you wanted. “I’ll get a milkshake.” 
“Okay,” he nodded, observing the milkshake options on the menu. “What flavor would you like?” 
“Whatever that’s available.” You stammered, clearing your throat as your eyes flickered to where Rafe was looking, trailing off before you muttered your next sentence. “Chocolate’s fine.” 
“We’ll take one chocolate milkshake, then.” Rafe informed the cashier, flashing him a tight-lipped smile as he handed him his card. 
The cashier passed Rafe the receipt, politely asking you two to step to the side, while waiting for your order to finish. You obliged to the request, following in Rafe’s steps as he took a corner, snorting when he plopped his arm over the counter, for the mere purpose of supporting his weight. 
“What?” He chuckled, toying with the straws presented in the cup. “What’s so funny, Bug?” 
“Don’t call me that.” You jokingly huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. 
“Is this about your wallet?” He cooed, poking your side with one of the straws. “Why are you upset?”
“I’m not upset.” You repeated, denying the assumption, though the boy had you practically figured out. “You’re annoying.” 
“Yeah, and you’re grumpy.” He scrunched his nose, the gesture playful, teasing you in a way. “Whatever you want, buy it, I’ll pay for you.” 
“I spend a lot of money, Rafe.” You uttered, ridiculed by his words. “Sure you can handle it?” 
“Well,” he leaned down, voice dropping barely above a whisper. “Can you spend as much as I can earn?” 
That earned a scuff out of you, rolling your eyes as you lightly smacked his shoulder, the action rattling a chuckle out of Rafe. Your face flushed with heat , remaining silent to suppress your flustered state from taking over your expression. 
It didn’t take long before you were heading back, with the drinks ceased in your hold, as well as Rafe’s. Your friends were quick to help out, handing each person their order, while they offered you a smile of gratitude in return for your act of kindness. 
Conversation with Rafe flowed like water, lifting your spirits, and cracking a smile of you every time he’d lean down and whisper hushed words into your ears. The action was subtle, you were sure none of your friends picked up on the way you’d tense each time Rafe stood too close, or made his presence known, shamefully letting his gaze flicker to your parted lips while your brother stood a few inches away, unaware of the latter’s intentions, and the tension seeping through the thick air. 
Speaking of Ryan, the boy wandered off, leaving you and your friends behind, though that swiftly oscillated as each of you split into pairs, leaving you with Rafe, who did everything in his power to cut through the silence building up. 
You brushed off his statements with short sentences, your dry responses settling a pang of guilt through your chest, intents far from hurting the latter, only realizing the switch in Rafe’s mood after you glanced up, and noticed the look of disappointment smothered all over his face. 
Your attention fixed on the several fragrance bottles splayed on the shelf, misting the aroma over the paper samples to sniff each one. Rafe stood and watched, whirling your shake (God knows how that ended up in his hold) around with a lack of enthusiasm, failing to hide the fact that he wasn’t interested in what you were doing. 
One of the perfumes piqued your curiosity, spraying it on your wrist to take another whiff, the soft vanilla scent intoxicating your senses. You suddenly turned to face Rafe, a smile spreading across your lips when he halted, lips extending with confusion at your sudden burst of excitement. 
“What is it?” He mumbled, brows pinching in a knot. 
“This one smells so good,” You uttered, taking a step forward, then pausing to ask your next question. “Do you wanna smell?” 
“Sure.” He instantly straightened up, a sly smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. 
Without thinking, you moved your arm ahead, offering the boy the patch of perfume sprayed on your hand, the action deemed innocent, catching Rafe off guard as he froze. He took a moment to process how close you were, now merely separated by your wrist as it blocked his vision from landing on your face, and hell, did you look pretty up close, though the majority of your features were covered.
Rafe hesitated, processing the risky ponders wandering through his head with haste, letting his impulsive thoughts take over as his fingers seized control of your wrist, inching it closer to his chin before he planted a gentle peck to the palm of your hand. 
His hold lingered around your wrist, his mouth burning hot over your flesh, and spiraling a rush of adrenaline through your veins. A shuddered sigh barely escaped your parted lips, fluttering your eyes up at the latter, your flustered expression not much of help; smearing a mischievous smile across his lips.
“What are you doing?’You stuttered through a breath, hastily retrieving your hand from Rafe’s hold.
“Smelling it,” he explained, acting as if the action was the most normalest thing ever. “You asked me to smell it, did you not?” 
“I did,” you shot back with frustration, pupils narrowing with the flutter of your chest, feeling your pulse quicken under Rafe’s gaze. “I said to smell it, not kiss it.”
“What’s wrong?” He chuckled, pointing his finger in your direction. “Are you shy?” 
“What?” Your face twisted with fake annoyance, glimpsing around before you lightly kicked his knee. “No, Rafe. What if someone saw you?” 
“I don’t care.” He stifled out a sarcastic laugh, amused by your reaction. 
“Yeah?” You forced your lips into a fake smile, ridiculed by Rafe’s lack of worry. “And how will you explain whatever that was to Ryan, Mr. I don’t care?” 
“He’ll understand.” Rafe mocked, grabbing the perfume you sprayed from the shelf. “How can I hold myself back, when you’re this beautiful, baby?”
There it was, baby. The pet name only made your heart race more, the sound so loud, you heard it echoing through your ears.
A hitched breath knocked out of your chest, taken aback by the sudden boldness seeping through Rafe’s tone, your shyness only encouraging him more. You cleared your throat, grabbing the drink from his hold before facing away, afraid you’d crumble if you stared any longer. 
“Shut up.” You dismissed, faking interest in the purses displayed on the shelf. “Don’t do that again.” 
“‘Won’t make any promises.” He clicked his teeth, grabbing a packaged perfume from next to the various ones on display. “Do you want to get it?” 
“No.” You shook your head, politely refusing with a glimpse over your shoulder. “It’s okay.” 
“Alright,” he nodded, streaking past you, and heading straight towards the line. “We’re getting it.” 
“That’s not necessary, Rafe.” You muttered through gritted teeth, avoiding the weird looks you received when Rafe dodged your attempt at snatching the boxed fragrance. 
While you were stubborn, the latter was twice as stubborn as you were, insisting on buying it, despite you refusing. And true to his intentions, Rafe ends up purchasing the perfume for you, a defeated scoff exiting your throat when he flashed you a sheepish grin, proud of his accomplishment. 
A sigh of relief tumbled past your mouth when you spotted Cleo, along with Pope, taking the scene as an opportunity to escape Rafe’s side; though that wasn’t a choice, with the blond practically gluing to you, following in your steps like a lost  puppy. 
It didn’t take long for the rest to join in, deciding it was a good time to leave upon the stores closing, one followed by another. Ryan contently retrieved his keys from JJ, fetching Pope, Cleo, and JJ, while the rest of you stuck in a group, the ride back filling with chaos, as yet, another karaoke session broke out, excpet this time, it involved lots of heartbreaks. 
A new category. 
The majority of your evening was consumed by the ocean waves rocketing, while you and your friends messed around. You let your worries go for once, heart swelling with happiness, one you didn’t think could be ruined.
Things were perfect, as you reunited with your friends, got to spend your summer vacation with them, and you met Rafe. You haven’t been happier since, it terrified you, heart stinging with horror, because you refused to believe this wasn’t ending on a bad note, hence it was a little too perfect.
The night ended off quite earlier than you had expected, with your friends excusing themselves to bed after movie night. Rafe subtly sneaked a smile your way, mouthing ‘goodnight’ before disappearing off to his room. 
That being said, you strived to fall asleep, resetting your progress every time you’d accidently unlatched your eyes, a huff of frustration escaping your throat in the process. You were too overwhelmed to sleep, unable to suppress the foolish grin masking your lips as what happened earlier stumbles across your mind, the vivid image of Rafe’s expression creating a flustered mess out of you. 
You tried not to think about it, being as quiet as physically possible, to avoid stirring Kiara’s slumber, anything but wanting to disturb her sleep. A random video played on your phone, a mere background noise as your brain, yet wandered back to the situation, zoning out, and fully abandoning the device in your hold. 
Your thoughts were interrupted by a ping, attention shifting back to the bright screen, almost gasping when you caught the contact of the sender. 
It was Rafe. (not one person is surprised)
rafe 👍: You awake?
Sent, 12:55 am
You: ?? hello
rafe 👍: Hi baby
Your face flushed with heat, unfamiliar with the latter constantly using pet names, the act surprising, never failing to make your heart flutter. 
You: why are you awake?
rafe 👍: Hmm
rafe 👍: Probably the same reason you are
A laugh stifled out of your throat at the message, hurrying to type back a response.
You: yeah 🤨
You: and what reason must that be
Rafe’s text bubble appeared and disappeared, fingers hesitatingly hovering over the screen, while you awaited the latter’s answer. 
rafe 👍: I 
rafe 👍: I can’t stop thinking about you
rafe: It’s driving me crazy
Oh. 
Oh. 
You: stop being an idiot
You: go to sleep its late
rafe 👍: I’m not fucking around
rafe 👍: Wanna see you so bad
Your eyes fluttered with utmost desire, digging your teeth through your bottom lip, merely to confirm this wasn't a dream. 
You: we’ll see eo tmr 
rafe 👍: You think
rafe 👍: I can wait til’ tomorrow? 
rafe 👍: I can't Yn
rafe 👍: Can I come to your room
You: Huh
You: what
You: for what?
rafe 👍: Js’ wanna see you baby
rafe 👍: Am I not allowed to do that?
You nervously gulped, well aware he wanted more than to just see you; both of you did. 
You: kies asleep
rafe 👍: Okay 
rafe 👍: I’ll be fast
The desperation in his tone squeezes a shy snort out of you, sitting up in bed as you typed out a reply. 
You: don’t come
You: stay in your room
rafe 👍:  What
rafe 👍: Why? 
You: i’ll
You: come to you
rafe 👍: Shit wait
rafe 👍: Are you serious?
rafe 👍: Don’t fuck with me 
You: is anyone by you
rafe 👍: NOo
rafe 👍: No one is by me
rafe 👍: I’m all alone
you: alr
you: im coming
You don’t know whether it was the sleep heaving your eyes, or the desire engulfing your insides,  however, you felt sure of your decision, leisurely pulling the covers off your figure, before you hastily made your way out, with the purpose of seeking Rafe. 
A knock is all it took, with the latter quickly unlatching the door, chest rising and falling with a breath once he caught sight of you. His gaze trailed down to your satin sleep set, perfectly adorning your figure, that holding himself back felt far out of the picture. 
“Hi.” You sheepishly greeted the latter, growing nervous under his gaze. At that, Rafe’s head shoots up, swallowing down the lump forming in his throat. 
“Hey,” he shot back, clutching the doorknob with force. “Come in.” 
You accepted the invitation, steps slow as you let yourself inside, observing the plain furniture, so boring,yet screaming Rafe’s name. “Your room is nice.” 
“Thanks.” He mumbled, scratching the back of his head once he shut the door, eyes roaming everywhere but your face. 
He was starting to regret this, tempting himself when he knows he can’t handle another minute with you this far away, wanting nothing but to seize the distance, cross the now invisible line and fuck it. 
“You’re welcome.” You hummed, lips pursing into a thin line. 
Tension seeped through the air, heaving the atmosphere with lust, desire; all your wants and needs. 
“Why did you want to see me?” You abruptly asked, approaching the door once again, a few feet down from Rafe. A chuckle escaped your lips, in an attempt to lighten the mood. “In the middle of the night, too? You’re not slick, Cameron.”
Mhm, that made things even worse. 
“Do I need a reason to see you now?” He answered you with another question, casually, but deliberately approaching you. “You think I’m that bad?” 
“No.” You whispered, fingers clutching the fabric of your shorts, reminiscing over the memory of his lips colliding with yours after your back firmly pressed to the door, chest immediately swelling with Deja Vu. “It was a joke.” 
“Yeah?” He mumbled, voice dropping to match yours. “You think that night was a mistake?”
“What night?” You stiffened, prior to acknowledging his question, as you’ve done nothing but avoid it over the past few days. 
“The night I kissed you.” He further clarified, his figure swallowing yours as he hovered over you. “You regret it?” 
“Why are you bringing that up?” You nearly choked on your own spit at the confrontation, goosebumps breaking out across your arms when the tip of his fingers lightly traced over your forearm, the sensation like feathers to your flesh. 
“Don’t know,” he replies, vision going blurry. “Wanna know how you feel.” 
A shaky sigh managed its way past your lips, mouth gaping to speak, but instead met with utter silence in return. Rafe’s eyes glinted with keen, seeking an answer out of you; a response to all his problems and more. 
But nothing. 
“I’ll leave.” You started, words far from what you wanted. “It’s getting late.”
Rafe’s face fell at that, chest swelling with disappointment as he shifted to step back, giving you enough space to squeeze through. “Right, you should; ‘s totally my fault for keeping you up.” 
One word. That’s all you wanted to hear; don’t. 
However, you were both idiots, too afraid to express your feelings for each other, hesitating over the possibilities of what if’s.
So what if Ryan found out? 
You like Rafe, so much it stings knowing you can’t have him, your said brother being the reason he’s forbidden. He’s your blood, though, him of all people should know how much this means to you, hence he’s witnessed all your horrific experiences with dating. 
Telling Ryan wasn’t the problem, it was you all along; teetering to make the first move, let your impulsive thoughts win and claim him, move forward and crash your lips on his, it was all on you for putting other people’s priorities over yours. 
Putting yourself first spoke like no other, and that’s exactly what you did as you grabbed Rafe by the collar of his shirt, wasting no time before you collided his lips with yours. 
Rafe’s eyes widened with shock, arms awkwardly hanging to his sides as you captured his bottom lip in between your own, proceeding with the gesture when you angled your head to the side, intending to deepen the kiss. 
Rafe didn’t do anything though, he froze in his spot, not daring to move, even after you mustered up the courage to kiss him. Panic immediately washed over as you pulled away, mouth moving faster than your brain while muttering your next words. 
“Shit, I’m sorry.” You apologized, guilt evident in your expression. “I thought you wanted this– I didn’t mean to force anything on you, we can jus’ act like this never happened, I don’t m–”
Your rambling cut short, interrupted when Rafe sweeped you in an eager kiss, the action desperate, seeking closure through it. You contently kissed him back, yelping when his arm found the curve of your waist, applying enough pressure to seize control of your body. 
The latter almost stumbled over his own feet, nearly falling in the process of leading you to the bed. Rafe took action when he noticed your struggle to keep up, hands traveling to the back of your thighs, and before you knew it, the boy scooped you in a swift movement, your legs latching to his sides for support.
Your arms wrapped around Rafe’s neck, moaning as he nibbled the plump of your lip with the graze of his teeth, using your parted lips as an opportunity to slide his tongue in your mouth, letting the warmth of your spit coat his own. 
His tongue swirled over yours, managing to plop himself on the edge of the bed, all while squeezing and kneeding your ass, chasing after your pleasure with each time you squirmed in his hold. 
“Fuck,” rafe muffled in between kisses, “Taste so fuckin’ good, baby.” 
A moan rolls off your tongue at the praise, mind hazing with despair as Rafe’s hot breath fanned over your face, the warmth tickling your skin, and sending shivers down your spine. Rafe wasted no time, fingers finding the hem of your shirt, the tip of his digits teasingly toying with it.
You whined into his mouth, protesting to the wait he’s putting you through, hips unintentionally rolling down over his crotch in the process, almost folding when you felt him twitch at the gesture. Rafe hissed at the contact, swiftly pressing your hips down in place, the hardon in his pants not being much of help. 
“Don’t fucking do that.” He grunted, lips ghosting over yours. “God, you’re killing me.” 
“Rafeee,” you cooed, throwing your head back with the intent of arching your back, panties now soaked with your juices. “Feels s’ good.” 
“You’re a mess.” Rafe teased, stifling out a laugh. He purposely halted, testing your limits, and how far you can go without crumbling in his hold. “So desperate for me, aren’t you?.” 
“Fucking do something.” Your nails dug to his shoulders with force, well aware your hold would bruise, already forming red marks with the touch. “Don’t jus’ tease me.” 
“You’re being a brat.” He chuckled with amusement, gaze landing on your cleavage, now half exposed from him groping the delicate flesh. “Thought you were a good girl, baby.” 
At that, your breath hitched, forehead leaning against Rafe’s when his fingers lightly traced over your breasts, the sensation like feathers to your skin. He licked a stripe of your tit, the warmth of his spit coating the outer shell of your boob. 
Rafe took your chest in his hold, action falling short as a knock suddenly erupted through the door, startling both of you out of your haze and despair. You instantly froze, pushing Rafe off to spare him a glance, almost as if to ask what the noise was. 
“Aye Rafe.” The familiar voice echoed through your ears, causing your heart to sink to the pit of your stomach. “Are you in there?” 
“That’s Ryan.” Rafe beat you to speaking, words stating the obvious. 
“No shit it’s Ryan.” You sarcastically whisper-yelled, “What is he doing here?” 
“I don’t know!” Rafe shrugged his shoulders. “I thought he was asleep.” 
Both of you turned with panic when the doorknob twisted back and fourth, indicating the latter was trying to open the door. “Aye come on, open up; I know you’re awake.” 
“Shit, we’re in trouble.” You nervously bit your lip, scrambling to get off his lap. Rafe fixed his shirt, adjusting his position to hide the hardon visible in his pants. “What do we do?” 
“Okay– shit, wait.” Rafe took a breath, observing the room with frustration. “I’ll hide in the closet, you open the door and shoo him away.” 
“It’s your room, dude.” Your face scrunched with disbelief, “I’m the one that should be hiding.” 
“No, yeah, right.” The latter nodded, pacing back and forth. “Where should you hide?” 
“Not the closet,” you shook your head, checking under the bed. “I’m claustrophobic.” 
“Under the bed?” Rafe suggested, eyeing the somewhat narrowed place, though it was slightly bigger than the said closet.
“Okay–” you winced as another thud erupted through the door, rushing to bend down, and slide under the bed. “Be fast, please.” 
Rafe nodded, flashing you a reassuring smile before fixing up the covers, vision now glistening with dimness. You perked up at the sound of the door creaking, groaning when Ryan’s footsteps practically shook the floor. He plopped himself on the bed, with Rafe hissing at the gesture, knowing your brother probably startled you with the action. 
And he did, but that wasn’t the point. 
“What are you doing here?” Rafe asked, sprawling himself next to Ryan. 
“I got some yayo,” Ryan whispered with a chuckle, probably already high by the tone of his voice. “Figured we could smoke it together.” 
“At one past midnight?” Rafe argued. 
“So what?” Ryan shrugged, ruffling his hand in the plastic bag he spread out on the bed. “You’re actin’ as if we’ve never done it before, this is not– wait, what?” 
Rafe paused before responding, face turning pale. “What?” 
“Is that Bug’s phone?” Ryan questioned, smile fading off his lips. “What is my sister’s phone doing in your room?”
Shit, your phone.
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a/n all support is v much appreciated!! i honestly have no idea how i got this out bye literally stress wrote almost the whole thing and im surviving off three hours of sleep mind you for the past two days AND i also finished most of this on the plane so feel special... i cherish my plane rides but i put you guys first since ily 😣 that being said i spent the past like eight hours finishing it up HELP yeah sorry to disappoint mama tried her best 💔 nsfw part is not detailed on purpose i want to put my badussy for their first time yeah (it wont be explicit dw) 💪💪
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TAGLIST @greyswaren @slut-4-gojo @depthsofdespairr @littlelamy @lilithblackkk @cnnamongrl @mattyskies @percysley @jaklvbub @inlovewithdob @ilovefiction4lmen @theeternaloptimistt @maybejj @icaqttt @idgasb @purplerose291 @shincidios @laniirackssss @malibuhearts @adulterated-cocaine @bugg06 @murdockcastleslut @drwstarkeys @pretymads @klmaaaoooo @wearemadeofstardust0 @urbrunettebombshell @stylestarkey @riverxsq @louxmcl @totalswag @cl4uus @simpforboys @tearsfromasliverwolf-blog @bilssturns @fandomhopped @strsdoulikedem @congratsloserr @dr3wstarkey @xoxo-ada @stvrligghtt @rafeswhoooreee @kythefangirl25 @chaneydoll @blushmimi @akobx @empath-bunny @flirtism @stopnala @rafecameronswifeyy
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norrisainz33 · 3 days ago
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home for the holidays || ls18
☆ summary: lance and his partner start a new chapter now that the season is over and take their relationship to the next level
☆ pairing: lance stroll x nonfamous!reader
☆ fc & warnings: none
☆ requested: nope! just a short one bc i don’t see enough lance fics so wanted to write one!!
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
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ynuser: and just like that - the 2024 season has come to an end. this was a tough one but no matter what i am proud of the team and proud of lance. see all you beautiful people again in march 🤍
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astonmartinf1: see you soon y/n/n! we love you ❤️
ynuser: 🤍 you more admin
user1: you are so real for posting the vegas pics of lance
lance_stroll: i love you 😘
ynuser: and i love you 🥹
user4: mama y papa
user2: i’m going to miss this silly season and seeing you practically every weekend smh
francisca.cgomes: see you sooner than march please😭
ynuser: you know i can’t go more than a couple weeks without you 😔
user44: can lance fight?
scottyjames1: no
user44: SCREMING
ynuser has posted to their story
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user1: most canadian thing i’ve ever seen
lance_stroll: missed this and missed you darling
ynuser: i missed you more lance. i’m overjoyed to be back 🤍
yourbff: i’m so glad you and lancey are finally home
ynuser: me too! this season was a long one 😩
yourbff: you both are stronger than i
ynuser: i’m not sure how we made it honestly! but it’s time for new beginnings and rest 🫶🏻
user2: time for some much deserved relaxation
user6: just saw the f1 secret santa and can’t stop thinking about how good of gift giver lance is and how he probably got you the best gifts ever
fernandoalo_official: happy holidays mi amiga
ynuser: gracias nando! i hope you have the best break with all of those you love most 🤍
user3: i hope you have the best break y/n
ynuser has posted to their story
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yourbff: i can’t wait to visit you in your new home!!!
ynuser: i can’t wait for you to visit!! one of the spare bedrooms has your name on it bestie
user11: ahhh congrats y/n!!!
carmenmundt: congrats on your and lances new home!! looking forward to visiting 😘
ynuser: thank you carmen! i miss you sm already. please come visit soon 🤍
user14: so so happy for you and lance. end game fr
lance_stroll: remind me why i thought moving right after the season ended was a good idea
ynuser: you said, and i quote, “i want to be home for the holidays and host all the people i love in our home.”
lance_stroll: well when you put it like that….
cholestroll: yayyayayay!!!!! can’t wait to see it in a few days
ynuser: can’t wait to see you and scotty and the lovely little bug soon. it’s been too long
astonmartinf1: cheers to new beginnings ✨
lance_stroll posted to his story
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chloestroll: the tree is so cuteeeeee oh i love it
lance_stroll: it is ! y/n is very excited for the holidays
chloestroll: as she should be!! do you have everything set?
lance_stroll: everything should be set up according to plan! im beyond nervous though
chloestroll: don’t be!! it’s going to alllll be ok
user3: y/n is so cute
scottyjames31: glad she’s getting you into the holiday spirit
lance_stroll: between y/n and chloe there’s more than enough holiday spirit! we’ve got hanukah and christmas covered over here
user4: pookie christmas lets goooo
ynuser: i am having the most fun decorating our new house 🫶🏻
lance_stroll: me too my love. building this life with you is everything i could ask for and more ❤️
user5: i’m glad you’re getting the time to relax lancey. you deserve it after this season
lance_stroll has posted to his story
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user2: holy crap this is beautiful?????? and she managed this right after you two moved in???? get this girl an award
fernandoalo_official: looks beautiful! can’t wait to hear about how your evening goes
lance_stroll: you’ll be one of the first to know ❤️
user6: this called me broke in about 800 different languages
pierregasly: WOW! can i hire y/n to decorate my house?
lance_stroll: for a hefty price 😉
user9: you better marry this girl i s2g
ynuser: thank you 🥹 🤍😘🎄
lance_stroll: no thank YOU gorgeous! i am so thankful to have you help me host the holidays ❤️
ynuser: 😭 i love being a part of your family lance
lance_stroll: we all love you so very much ❤️
ynuser: you’re going to make me cry 🥹
chloestroll: eeeeek!!!!!! today is THE day 🤍🤍🤍🤍
lance_stroll: she doesn’t suspect a thing 😍
user12: her outfit is everything ??? literal angel
ynuser has made a post
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ynuser: tonight may have been the best night of my life. wishing you the happiest of holidays from the future mr and mrs stroll ❤️
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user18: this is so important to me you have no idea
chloestroll: welcome to the family sis 😘
ynuser: sis 😭 oh i love you chloe
georgerussell63: 🥹 congrats! you two make the perfect couple
ynuser: thank you georgie ❤️
fernandoalo_official: felicidades mis amigos
ynuser: gracias por todo nando 🫶🏻
user32: my mom and dad are getting married im overjoyed
lance_stroll: i can’t wait to make you my wife
ynuser: and i can’t wait for you to be my husband 😘
user23: you look so good in white
astonmartinf1: best news we’ve seen all day
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated.
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction
© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform
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theetherealbloom · 2 days ago
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Whole Package, Babe, I Like The Way You Fit
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Summary: Holiday beach trip with Pedro and friends.
Or, that one new Pedro shirtless pic…
Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader
Warnings: Established Relationship, TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Nudity, Slight Angst, Swearing, Anxiety, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Paparazzi, Social Media, Beach Trip, Light Blood, Scratch, Ocean, Swimming, Swimwear, Shirtless Pedro, Light SMUT, Spicy, Sweet, Implied SMUT, Banter, Idk Spanish so the terms might be wrong but I'm trying my best
Word Count: 4.6k
A/N: The mf decided to give us shirtless Pedro and suddenly I have the will to live again LMAO. Weirdly enough, I am also at the beach while writing this so it’s kinda a funny coincidence… Imagine if we were at the same beach, that would be so funny (He can never know my existence I might die.)
No one ask me how I knew what hotel they were staying at. I scare myself too dw.
Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!
Song: Juno by Sabrina Carpenter
| Main Masterlist |
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HOTEL ESENCIA, MEXICO — DAY
The warm tropical breeze carried the salty tang of the ocean as you stepped onto the soft, powdery sand of the secluded beach Pedro’s friends had chosen for the Christmas getaway. The sun kissed your skin, palm trees swayed lazily overhead, and the gentle rhythm of waves provided the perfect soundtrack for a holiday escape.  
The group—Lauren Alexander, Brandan Campbell, Omar Apollo, and Pedro’s ever-charismatic agent, Franklin Latt—had already claimed a prime spot near the water. Lounge chairs were lined up under brightly colored umbrellas, a massive cooler sat brimming with ice and drinks, and Omar was enthusiastically attempting to set up a speaker while humming the latest tune stuck in his head.  
Pedro lagged a few steps behind you, carrying your beach bag and his, though his attention wasn’t on the task. It was on you.  
When you shrugged off your airy cover-up, revealing a stunning red bikini that hugged your curves just right, Pedro froze mid-step. His sunglasses couldn’t hide the way his jaw tightened or how his eyes darkened as they roamed over you.  
“Everything okay there?” you teased, tilting your head as you caught him staring.  
Pedro blinked, visibly gathering himself. “Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine.” He cleared his throat, but his gaze didn’t waver. “More than fine.”  
You smirked, adjusting the straps of your bikini for good measure. “You’re staring.”  
“Can you blame me?” he shot back, taking a step closer. His voice dipped, low and husky. “You look... breathtaking.”  
A flush crept up your neck, but you refused to let him win so easily. “Not too bad yourself,” you quipped, lightly poking his chest. His white linen shirt was unbuttoned just enough to reveal a tantalizing hint of his tan skin and the gold chain that rested against his collarbone.  
Pedro chuckled, the sound warm and intimate. “If I’d known you’d be wearing this, I’d have hired a bodyguard to keep everyone else from looking.”  
“Oh, please,” you replied, rolling your eyes but unable to stop the grin tugging at your lips. “I’m here with you, aren’t I?”  
He leaned in, his hand brushing against your waist as he planted a soft kiss on your forehead. “Stop being so cute, or I might never let you leave my sight,” he murmured.  
“Is that a promise or a threat?” you teased, your voice playful but your heart racing.  
“Both,” he said, his grin widening as he pulled back to admire you once more.  
From nearby, Omar let out a loud whistle. “Pedro, are you gonna stand there all day, or are you gonna help us with this speaker? Some of us want to vibe to music!”  
Pedro groaned, turning reluctantly toward the group but throwing an arm around your shoulders as he led you over. “Fine, but only because she’s coming with me,” he called out, earning a round of laughter.  
As you settled into the setup, the sun beamed overhead, and the carefree energy of the group was infectious. Pedro stayed close, his arm brushing yours as you helped Lauren unpack snacks, and his eyes never strayed far from you.  
At one point, Franklin handed you a coconut with a straw and a cheeky smile. “Best way to stay hydrated,” he said, winking.  
“Cheers,” Pedro said, clinking his coconut against yours. He took a sip before leaning closer, his breath warm against your ear. “But if you spill even a drop, I’m licking it off you.”  
Your cheeks burned as you nearly choked on your drink. “Pedro!” you hissed, swatting at him.  
He grinned, unapologetic. “What? I’m just being practical.”  
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The day unfolded in easy laughter and warmth, with the sun high overhead and the turquoise ocean sparkling like a field of diamonds. Pedro carried you on his back through the shallows, his hands gripping your thighs as you pretended to be his commanding officer.  
“Faster, soldier!” you commanded, leaning forward and tugging gently at his ears as if steering him.  
“Ma’am, yes, ma’am!” he called back, mock-serious but laughing as he jogged through the water, sending small waves splashing around you both. “Anything else, ma’am? Should I do some push-ups in the sand too?”  
You grinned wickedly. “Push-ups? I’d like to see you try—with me on your back.”  
Pedro stopped abruptly, twisting his head to glance at you with a raised brow. “Oh, you think I can’t?”  
“I know you can’t,” you teased, leaning down to press your cheek against his.  
He smirked, suddenly spinning in place. “You’re asking for it now.”  
Before you could protest, he dropped into the water with a dramatic splash, sending you tumbling off his back and into the cool embrace of the ocean.  
“Pedro!” you shrieked, surfacing with a gasp and pushing your wet hair out of your face.  
He was already laughing, standing a few feet away with his hands on his hips, his soaked hair plastered to his forehead. “That’s what you get for doubting my strength!”  
“Oh, you’re so dead!” you shouted, lunging toward him.  
Pedro yelped playfully, backpedaling but not fast enough. You caught his arm, laughing as you pulled him down into the water with you. The two of you wrestled like kids, splashing and laughing so hard your stomach hurt.  
“Truce! Truce!” he called out, holding up his hands in surrender as you pelted him with another wave of water.  
“Do you admit defeat?” you demanded, a triumphant grin on your face.  
“Never!” he declared, darting forward to grab your waist. Before you could react, he lifted you effortlessly, spinning you around in the water.  
“Pedro!” you shrieked, laughing and trying to wriggle free.  
“You wanted a soldier,” he said, his voice full of mischief, “and now you’ve got one!”  
You finally stopped struggling, letting your arms drape around his shoulders as he held you close. The laughter faded into something softer, the two of you catching your breath as you stood chest-deep in the water.  
His hands slid down to your hips, steadying you as he gazed at you with a look that made your heart flutter. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” he murmured, his voice low and intimate.  
The way he said it, like it was a simple truth he’d always believed, made your cheeks warm despite the cool water. “You’re just saying that because I’m soaked and ridiculous-looking,” you replied, biting back a smile.  
“No,” he said, leaning in so his forehead pressed against yours. “I’m saying it because it’s true.”  
Your breath hitched as his lips brushed against yours, soft and hesitant at first, like he was savoring the moment. The kiss deepened quickly, his arms pulling you closer until there was no space between you.  
When you pulled back for air, Pedro’s eyes were dark, his lips slightly swollen from the kiss. “You’ve got this effect on me,” he admitted, his voice husky.  
“Oh yeah?” you teased, though your voice wavered with the same breathless energy.  
“Yeah,” he said, leaning in to kiss you again, his hands sliding up your back. “And I never want it to go away.”  
For a while, the rest of the world melted away. You stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the ocean rocking gently around you. He kissed you like he was memorizing every detail, every taste, and you couldn’t help but smile against his lips, feeling completely and utterly adored.  
At one point, he pulled back just enough to whisper, “If this is what it feels like to surrender, I’m never fighting again.”  
You laughed, threading your fingers through his damp hair. “I think I like you defeated.”  
“And I think I like you here, in my arms,” he replied softly, his lips brushing against your temple.  
The sound of your friends laughing and splashing in the distance barely registered. For now, it was just you and Pedro, lost in a world of sunlit kisses and salty skin, the ocean your only witness.  
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The group gathered in a loose circle, each person holding a large green coconut decorated with colorful straws and tiny paper umbrellas. The warm, golden light of the late afternoon sun bathed everything in a soft glow, making the moment feel like a scene out of a postcard. Omar crouched to capture the perfect angle with his camera while Lauren struck a dramatic pose, tilting her head back and raising her coconut like it was a chalice of the gods.  
“Lauren, you’re doing the most,” Franklin said, shaking his head but smiling as he adjusted his sunglasses.  
“Darling, I am the most,” Lauren shot back with a wink, drawing laughs from everyone.  
Pedro, standing just behind you, pulled you snugly against his side, his arm wrapped securely around your waist. “C’mon, let’s show them how it’s done,” he murmured in your ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine.  
Franklin, standing in front with his phone, held it up. “Okay, lovebirds, your turn. Smile for the camera!”  
You turned your face toward Pedro’s at the exact same moment he turned toward you, and the laughter bubbled up before either of you could stop it. Your foreheads bumped lightly, and you both dissolved into giggles, the kind of uncontainable joy that made your chest feel light.  
“Oh, my god,” Lauren groaned theatrically, pointing at the two of you. “Are they even real? Look at them, they’re in their own damn rom-com!”  
“Y’all are embarrassing,” Omar chimed in, snapping pictures anyway. “But keep doing whatever that is because it’s disgustingly cute.”  
Pedro’s grin widened as he tilted his head toward you, his nose brushing against yours. “You’re ridiculous,” you said through your laughter, feeling your cheeks warm under the attention.  
“And you’re perfect,” Pedro replied, his voice low but playful, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smirk.  
Franklin groaned loudly, still holding up his phone. “For the love of all things holy, just kiss her already! We’re trying to make memories here, not watch a slow-burn romance unfold in real-time!”  
Pedro raised an eyebrow, glancing at the group before looking back at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “What do you think, Hermosa? Should we give them what they want?”  
You laughed, pretending to ponder. “Hmm… maybe. But only if you make it a good one.”  
“Challenge accepted,” Pedro whispered, and then his lips were on yours, soft but sure. The kiss was sweet and unhurried, the kind that made everything around you fade into the background.  
“Oh my god, they’re actually doing it,” Lauren shrieked, clapping her hands together like a giddy child.  
“Finally!” Omar exclaimed, snapping several pictures in rapid succession. “This is going on the Christmas card.”  
“Make sure you get my good side!” Pedro joked, pulling back just enough to shoot Omar a wink, his arm still secure around your waist.  
“I don’t think you have a bad side,” you teased, your eyes meeting Pedro’s.  
“Ugh, stop!” Franklin groaned, clutching his chest dramatically. “This is too much. I need a drink—and not out of a coconut. I’m going straight for the tequila.”  
Everyone burst into laughter, the lighthearted teasing filling the air as the moment was immortalized with photos, laughter, and a shared sense of joy. Pedro leaned closer, his lips brushing your temple as the group continued to banter.  
“They’re just jealous,” he murmured softly, his voice filled with affection.  
You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, your heart swelling at the warmth in his eyes. “Maybe. But I’m not sharing, so they can stay jealous.”  
Pedro chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Good. Because neither am I.”  
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The heat of the day softened into a golden, languid warmth as the two of you found refuge under the shade of a broad umbrella. The beach stretched endlessly before you, the waves lazily licking at the shore. Pedro reclined in a beach chair, his book propped open on his lap. The faint breeze tousled his hair, a few stray strands falling over his forehead, and the way he absentmindedly pushed them back sent a flutter through your chest.  
You leaned against his side, your legs stretched out on the chair beside him, the perfect picture of ease. With one hand, you held your favorite romance novel, its dog-eared pages evidence of how many times you'd read it. With the other, you traced patterns along the inked lines of his tattoos. Your fingertips moved slowly, savoring the ridges of muscle and warmth beneath his skin, as if committing every part of him to memory.  
Pedro’s free hand slid into yours, threading your fingers together with a natural intimacy that still made your heart skip a beat. He didn’t look up from his book as he murmured, “Everything feels right when you’re with me.”  
The sincerity in his tone made you pause, your eyes lifting from the words on the page. A small smile tugged at your lips as you squeezed his hand gently. “I know the feeling,” you replied, your voice soft.  
For a while, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, the kind that only comes when you’re entirely at ease with someone. The distant laughter of your friends mingled with the rhythmic crashing of waves, creating a serene soundtrack to your stolen moment.  
Pedro finally set his book down, slipping a receipt in as a placeholder. His gaze shifted to you, lingering in a way that made your cheeks heat even before he said a word.  
“You know,” he began, his voice warm and teasing, “you’re kind of amazing.”  
You tilted your head, meeting his eyes with a playful arch of your brow. “Kind of?”  
Pedro chuckled, his smile widening. “Okay, more than kind of. Very. Incredibly. Like, the kind of amazing that makes me wonder what I ever did to deserve you.”  
You closed your book, setting it on the small table between your chairs. Turning slightly, you rested your chin on his shoulder, your fingers still entwined with his. “Pedro, where’s all this coming from?”  
He shrugged, but his eyes were soft, almost vulnerable. “Just thinking. Watching you. It hits me sometimes how lucky I am. How lucky I feel to be the one sitting here with you.”  
You laughed lightly, shaking your head. “You’re the one everyone loves. The kind, talented, ridiculously handsome Pedro Pascal. If anything, I’m the lucky one.”  
Pedro leaned closer, his free hand brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “You’re wrong about that. Don’t get me wrong—I like myself just fine,” he teased, earning a laugh from you. “But you? You’re everything. Smart, funny, compassionate. And don’t even get me started on how beautiful you are.”  
Your cheeks flushed, and you tried to deflect with a teasing grin. “Oh, so it’s just my looks, huh?”  
“Not even close,” Pedro said, his voice dropping to a softer, deeper tone. “It’s the way you talk about your favorite books like they’re old friends. The way you laugh with your whole body. The way you care about everyone—how you make every room brighter just by being in it.”  
“Pedro…” you whispered, your throat tight with emotion.  
“And don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve got everyone wrapped around your finger,” he added, his grin returning. “Omar can’t go ten minutes without asking if you need something, and Lauren keeps calling you her ‘new favorite person.’”  
You laughed, brushing at your cheeks as your emotions threatened to overwhelm you. “Stop. You’re going to make me cry.”  
Pedro’s expression softened further, his thumb brushing over your cheek as if to catch a tear before it could fall. “If I do, they’d better be happy tears. Because, cariño, I love you more than I ever thought was possible.”  
Your breath hitched, and you leaned into his touch. “I love you too. So much.”  
For a moment, the world around you faded into the background. Pedro leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was slow and tender, like a promise. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his voice barely above a whisper.  
“Promise me you’ll always stay this close,” he said, his tone carrying a weight you couldn’t quite place.  
You smiled, your hands cupping his face. “I promise. Always.”  
Pedro’s heart swelled at your words, and though he didn’t say it out loud, a plan began to take shape in his mind. He pictured the perfect ring, the perfect moment, the perfect way to ask you to spend forever with him.  
“I’ll hold you to that,” he said softly, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead.  
You didn’t need to say anything else. The way you melted into his arms, the way your fingers found his once again, said everything. For now, this was enough. But in his heart, Pedro knew it wouldn’t be long before he made good on the promise his soul had already made: to love you, always.
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The late afternoon sun bathed the beach in golden light as you wandered back into the water. The waves lapped gently at your legs, warm and inviting. Lost in the tranquil rhythm of the ocean, you didn’t notice the jagged rock just below the surface until it grazed your shin. You winced, feeling the sharp sting before brushing it off as nothing.  
You emerged from the water, the salty breeze brushing against your skin. Pedro, lounging nearby with a half-finished coconut drink, immediately sat up. His eyes darted to your leg, catching the small but noticeable trail of red trickling down your shin.  
“Are you bleeding?” His voice carried that signature mix of concern and urgency that only Pedro could make sound so endearing.  
You glanced down, surprised to see the cut. “Oh.”  
“Oh?” Pedro’s tone was incredulous as he practically leapt from his chair, already reaching for the towel draped over the back. “That’s all you have to say? Oh?”  
“It’s just a scratch, Pedro,” you said with a small laugh, trying to wave him off. “I’m fine.”  
But Pedro was having none of it. He crouched in front of you, his warm hands circling your calf to keep your leg still. The towel dabbed gently at the cut, his brow furrowed in concentration. “You’re not allowed to get hurt on my watch,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.  
“It’s barely a paper cut,” you teased, watching the way his features softened even as he fussed over you.  
“Doesn’t matter.” His voice was firm, though his touch remained impossibly gentle. “What if it gets infected? What if—”  
You laughed, cutting him off. “Pedro, it’s not like I got bitten by a shark.”  
He looked up at you, his expression a mixture of exasperation and adoration. “Don’t joke about that. I’d fight a shark for you, you know.”  
The sincerity in his voice, paired with the completely ridiculous statement, made you laugh even harder. “Oh, I’m sure you would,” you said, brushing your fingers through his damp curls.  
“Don’t test me,” he quipped, finally satisfied that the cut was clean. He reached for the small first-aid kit Franklin had insisted on bringing, pulling out a bandage. “Hold still.”  
“Seriously?” you asked, your amusement growing.  
“Seriously,” he said, shooting you a look that dared you to challenge him. He peeled the adhesive back and smoothed the bandage over your shin with a precision that would make a surgeon proud.  
“There,” he said, sitting back on his heels and surveying his work with a nod. “Good as new.”  
“You’re ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head but smiling all the same.  
“And you’re reckless,” he shot back, standing up and pulling you into his arms. “I leave you alone for five minutes, and this is what happens.”  
You leaned into him, your hands resting against his chest. “I think you’re overreacting. It’s a scratch, Pedro.”  
“It’s your scratch,” he said, his voice softening. His fingers tilted your chin up, his eyes searching yours. “That means it matters to me.”  
Your heart did a little flip at his words, and you couldn’t resist teasing him just a little. “You know how you’re like—”  
“Absolutely embarrassingly in love with you?” he cut in, a smirk tugging at his lips.  
You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. “Yeah, that.”  
Pedro leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. “I am, you know,” he said, his voice dropping to a tender murmur. “Completely, hopelessly, embarrassingly in love with you.”  
Your teasing melted away as you cupped his face, brushing your thumbs over the scruff of his jaw. “Good. Because I’m absolutely embarrassingly in love with you too.”  
His smile grew, and he kissed you softly, as if sealing a promise. When he pulled back, his eyes sparkled with mischief. “Now, no more rock fights, okay? You’ve got to take it easy on me.”  
You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’ll do my best. But no promises if a shark shows up.”  
Pedro groaned dramatically, lifting you off your feet as he carried you back to the lounge chairs. “If a shark shows up, I’ll negotiate with it. Tell it I’m already your protector and it can’t have the job.”  
You giggled, nuzzling against his neck. “Sounds like a good plan. My hero.”  
He set you down with exaggerated care, pressing one last kiss to your forehead. “Always,” he said simply.  
And as the two of you sat there, the ocean stretching endlessly before you, you felt it again—that perfect, undeniable feeling of being home.
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HOTEL ESENCIA, MEXICO — SUNSET
The sunset painted the sky in hues of orange, pink, and deep indigo, casting a magical glow over the beach. The group sat in a loose circle, their laughter and conversation mingling with the soft crash of the waves and the mellow strumming of a guitar Omar had picked up. The mood was serene, the kind of calm that felt like it could stretch forever.  
Pedro sat behind you on the sand, his strong arms wrapped securely around your waist as you leaned back against his chest. His chin rested lightly on your shoulder, and you could feel the soft puff of his breath against your neck. His warmth enveloped you, a perfect contrast to the cool ocean breeze.  
“You cold, cariño?” Pedro murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.  
“Not even a little,” you replied, turning your head to catch his eyes. They sparkled, reflecting the fiery colors of the horizon.  
His fingers traced slow, idle circles against your stomach. “Good. Can’t have you shivering out here, not when I’ve got two perfectly good arms to keep you warm.”  
“You’re too good at this,” you teased, smiling as you reached up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead.  
“Good at what?” he asked, his tone playful, though his eyes held that familiar, unspoken intensity that always made your heart skip a beat.  
“At making me feel like the luckiest person in the world,” you said softly.  
Pedro’s lips curved into a slow smile, and he leaned down to press a tender kiss to your temple. “That’s funny,” he murmured, “because that’s exactly how I feel about you.”  
The golden light of the sunset cast a halo around his face, and you couldn’t help but reach up, cupping his cheek as you brought his forehead to yours. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing you say things like that.”  
“You’d better not,” he said, his voice warm and teasing, though there was an edge of vulnerability beneath it. “Because I’m not planning on stopping.”  
“I’ll love you forever,” Pedro whispered, his lips ghosting against your ear as the first stars began to peek through the darkening sky.  
You tilted your head back to meet his gaze fully, the world around you falling away. “You promise?”  
He cupped your face in his hands, his thumb brushing tenderly over your cheek. “I promise,” he said, his voice steady and filled with so much certainty it made your chest ache in the best way.  
His lips found yours in a kiss that was soft and lingering, filled with a sweetness that felt endless. When he pulled back, he pressed another kiss to your forehead before tucking you closer to him.  
The night deepened, and the group eventually wandered back to the cozy beachfront hotel. Pedro’s hand never left yours as you made your way to your shared room, the two of you moving in quiet, comfortable synchronicity.  
Inside, the room was dimly lit, the glow of a single bedside lamp casting a warm, intimate light over the space. The sound of the waves was faint through the open balcony doors, and the scent of salt air mingled with the faintly floral perfume you’d spritzed on earlier.  
Pedro closed the door behind you and turned to face you, his expression soft but unmistakably intent. “You know,” he said, stepping closer, “I meant it. Every word I said out there.”  
You tilted your head, giving him a playful look. “Even the part where you said you’d never get tired of me stealing the covers?”  
“Especially that part,” he said with a grin, his hands finding your waist and pulling you flush against him. “Though I might need extra cuddles as compensation.”  
You laughed softly, your hands sliding up his chest to rest on his shoulders. “I think that can be arranged.”  
His grin faded, replaced by something deeper, more serious, as his eyes searched yours. “I love you,” he said, the words simple but carrying the weight of everything he felt. “So much that sometimes it scares me.”  
You leaned up, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I love you too. And you don’t have to be scared, Pedro. You’ve got me.”  
His lips claimed yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, his hands splaying across your back as he pulled you closer. The kiss deepened, his lips parting to taste yours, and you felt the warmth of him everywhere.  
He backed you gently toward the bed, his movements unhurried, as if savoring every moment. The backs of your knees hit the edge, and you sank onto the soft mattress, pulling him down with you.  
Pedro’s hands roamed, his touch reverent as his lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, then down the column of your neck. “Tell me if I’m going too fast,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and husky.  
“You’re perfect,” you whispered, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging lightly to bring his lips back to yours.  
His breath hitched at your words, and you felt the weight of his love in every kiss, every touch. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in each other, lost in a moment that felt infinite.  
Pedro pulled back briefly, his forehead resting against yours as his fingers laced with yours. “You’re my everything,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.  
“And you’re mine,” you replied, your heart full to bursting.  
And as the night stretched on, the love between you grew even deeper, wrapping around you both like a warm, unbreakable cocoon.
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disparatemind · 2 days ago
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Link to pinned post with all parts here
Part 11
“So… am I in purgatory?” asked the soul when I'd brought over a couple of chocolate chip cookies.
“I guess you could call it that. I call it the realm between Life and Death, or the in-between. Essentially the concept is the same.”
A small sigh escaped the soul. “Now I'm afraid I may not go where I was hoping,” they said.
“Don't be discouraged. This isn't what I was expecting either.” Memories and fears tried to surface in my mind, but I pushed them down. “Do you remember your name?”
“It was… Sam.”
“I'm glad to meet you, Sam. I'm sorry that one of the other patrons made your welcome less pleasant than it should have been.”
“That's alright,” Sam answered. “I can't say I blame them, in light of the current… ah, circumstances.”
I raised an eyebrow and studied this easy-going soul for a moment. “You seem to be taking this rather calmly,” I said. “What you're feeling is none of my business, but if there's anything you'd like to talk about, I'm all ears.”
A small smile appeared on Sam’s face. “I appreciate that, but honestly, even though this isn't what I was expecting to see, I have faith I'll end up where I'm supposed to be.”
I nodded. “Until then, let me know if you'd like a refill or something to eat.”
“Thank you. You're a kind soul.”
“So are you, Sam.”
Leaving Sam at the counter with his coffee, I eyed the section of the cafe where Wade had taken the other newly-arrived soul. Taking a small breath, I headed over and nodded.
“Hello again. I'd like to properly introduce myself. My name is Rose, and this is my cafe. You're welcome to stay here as long as you'd like, provided you remain respectful of others. You're welcome to ask me anything, but I may not have all the answers.”
The soul glanced at Wade, who was seated across from them and looking like he wasn't about to move any time soon.
“Would you mind bringing me a cup of coffee? As strong as you can make it?” came the carefully polite reply.
“Sure thing. Would you like anything to eat?”
“I doubt you'd have it, but a poppyseed muffin would be nice.”
“I've got some from a batch I made earlier—I’ll be right back. Coffee black, right?”
A startled nod.
“Isn't she great?” Wade beamed as he settled back and put his arms behind his head.
Smiling and shaking my head as I went back to the counter, one of the other patrons drew my attention for a refill, and by the time I finally returned to Sam, his cup was empty.
“Sorry about that,” I said as I poured some fresh brew into his cup. “I try not to let my patrons’ cups get completely empty.”
“No apologies necessary,” Sam said. “This coffee is probably the best I've ever had.”
I thanked him with a smile. “And you're one of the politest souls I've ever waited on,” I replied.
As I went back out into the cafe to bring everyone their refills and plates, I couldn't help but hope within my heart that Sam found the peace he was looking for, and I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was sorely missed by the family he'd left behind.
You run a café on the edge of life and death. Souls who have been departed from their bodies temporarily, such as in comas or near-death experiences, can relax in your quaint cafe for as long as they need before they can either return to their bodies or begin their journey to the afterlife.
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rheeblogs · 2 days ago
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★ — HELP WANTED
★ — pairing : canon/contractor!abby anderson x fem!reader
★ — as a new homeowner, paying full price to get a remodel on things was so expensive. luckily abby anderson gave pretty faces major discounts.
★ — warnings : sexual content
🔖 : @thaatdigitaldiary @d3arapril @rosemariiaa @ashortyluvsports
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you weren’t much of a handyman—or handywoman, for that matter. when you moved into your new house, you quickly realized that the charm of its old bones came with a laundry list of things that needed fixing: a leaky faucet, creaky doors, shelves that threatened to collapse if you so much as looked at them.
that’s how you met abby anderson.
the first time you saw her, she was unloading a truck across the street, all lean muscles and work boots, her blonde braid sticking out from under a baseball cap. you didn’t think much of it at first, too busy trying to wrestle a box through your own front door. but when you dropped it with a loud thud, she appeared out of nowhere.
“you need a hand?”
her voice was warm, slightly teasing, and when you looked up, you were momentarily struck by her presence. abby was… well, extremely beautiful. sun-kissed skin, broad shoulders, and a crooked smile that could melt steel.
——
after helping you with the box, abby quickly learned about your diy incompetence.
“so,” she said a few days later, leaning against the doorframe as you struggled to fix a curtain rod. “you always this good with tools, or am i just special enough to witness it?”
you turned, rolling your eyes at her smirk. “yeah, yeah, laugh it up. at least i’m trying.”
she chuckled, her gaze dropping to the small pile of mismatched screws and nails at your feet. “tell you what—how about i come by this weekend and help you out? i’m pretty handy, if i do say so myself.”
you hesitated, but the truth was you needed the help. “are you sure? i don’t wanna intrude.”
“darlin’,” she said, stepping closer and giving you a lopsided grin. “it’d be my pleasure.”
——
that sunday, abby showed up in a tank top and work pants, a toolbox slung over one shoulder. she whistled low when you opened the door.
“well, look at you,” she said, her eyes dragging over the black cropped tank you had on, showing off the bold tattoo on your right shoulder. “you dress up for me?”
you blushed, shaking your head. “you wish.”
“maybe i do,” she replied, her voice dropping slightly as she brushed past you, her shoulder grazing yours.
the day passed with abby fixing things at lightning speed while you hovered nearby, asking questions and offering her water or snacks. she made it impossible to concentrate, the way her muscles flexed when she tightened screws or hammered nails.
at one point, she caught you staring.
“enjoyin’ the view, ma’am?” she asked, smirking as she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.
you stammered, “i—i was just tryna’ make sure you were doin’ it right, that’s all.”
“uh-huh.” she leaned closer, her voice dipping into something more intimate. “if you’ve got any other… inspections in mind, let me know.”
your cheeks burned, but you couldn’t stop the grin that spread across your face.
——
by the time the sun set, abby had fixed more in one day than you thought possible. the two of you were sitting on the floor of your living room, surrounded by tools and scraps, laughing about the crooked shelf you had tried to install before she arrived.
“i can’t believe you thought duct tape would hold that up,” she teased, nudging you with her knee.
“look, desperate times, desperate measures,” you defended, shaking your head. “besides, you’re the expert. that’s why i have you now.”
her smile softened, and for a moment, the teasing faded. “yeah,” she said quietly. “you do.”
the air between you shifted, tension crackling like a live wire. abby’s gaze dropped to your lips, and you felt your breath catch.
“i—“ you started, but the words got stuck in your throat when abby reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face.
“you’re something else, y’know that?” she murmured, her voice low and husky. “been drivin’ me crazy all day.”
your heart hammered in your chest. “abby…”
“tell me to stop,” she said, her forehead nearly touching yours now. “i will. just say the word.”
instead of answering, you closed the gap, your lips meeting hers in a kiss that was so soft at first but quickly deepened. abby’s hands found your waist, pulling you closer as the tension of the day finally snapped.
when you pulled back, breathless, she smirked. “so… does this mean i’m gettin’ that ‘thank-you’ dinner you promised?”
you laughed, tugging her back in. “dinner can wait.”
——
abby had you sprawled against your bed, the same bed that she fixed hours earlier. your bra was thrown across the room, landing on the vanity she just remodeled.
“fuckin’ beautiful, i fuckin’ knew it,” she says, looking at you like prey, and you can feel yourself salivating at the way her muscles bulge when she manhandles you. “spread those legs, sweetheart, lemme’ see you.”
you spread yourself to abby’s liking, your pants and panties discarded on your rug, leaving you fully bare in front of your next-door-neighbor.
her mouth damn near waters at the sight, your folds glistening in slick, simply because she talks to you nice. abby eats that shit up, making sure the neighborhood knows she does this to you.
“let me in, baby.” she says, as her fingers start pumping in and out of your pussy, the squelching noise driving her batshit crazy. she’s on top of you, kissing your neck and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. “pussy’s talkin’ to me, isn’t she?” she says, inserting another finger inside of you.
“shitttt, abby, don’t talk like that.” you whimper, causing abby’s pace to speed up when she hits that sweet spot inside of you, causing your moans to grow louder and louder.
“shh… gotta be quiet sweetheart, you just got here—you want the neighbors to know my name already?” she whispers against your skin, leaving messy kisses along your tits.
she’s forcing you to grind into her fingers, the show your giving alone making her boxers a soaked mess.
“p—please, abby…” you pant, your head spinning and baby hairs sticking to your forehead.
“i’ll give it to ya’ sweet girl, always so fuckin’ patient, yeah?” abby’s breath starts to hitch as you dig your nails into her back, her chest clad with a black sports bra.
“gonna… abby please, i’m so close—,” you manage to let out, and abby takes this as a signal to let you finish. she holds your body down, pumping at lightning speed, listening to your moans grow and watching your eyes roll to the back of your head.
“c’mon sweetheart, all over my fingers.” your stomach snaps, and sudden flow rushes through your body and right onto abby’s digits. you were shaking, abby’s thick fingers leaving you in a trance, all of her handy work being put to use.
“jesus, abby. you do this to all your new neighbors?” you say, attempting to catch your breath.
“nah, just you honey.”
——
the night stretched on, filled with whispered laughs and stolen kisses, and for once, you were thankful for all the broken things that had brought her to your door.
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n4nikeni · 1 day ago
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Over? We're far from over.
——————————————————————
Characters : Satoru Gojo x Reader x Suguru Geto
Summary : your father had hired two bodyguards for you. Fortunately, they were both your type. One was strict and rough and the other one was carefree and soft. No one knew what goes on behind closed doors.
A/N : I might turn this into a series because bodyguard gojo and Geto!! Hell yeah
——————————————————————
“Gojo! Do you see her? Anywhere in this room?” Geto asked as he looked around everywhere into the crowded club. Flashing lights hitting everyone's eye and the loud music that could be heard from miles away. Gojo on the other hand, was getting tipsy already. A girl came up to him and offered him drinks and who was he to decline such a beauty?
Geto pushed through the crowd and grabbed on his shoulder. Snatching away the small cup in his hands “Gojo you can't be serious right now, she just left without telling us anything and she's nowhere to be found in here! Her height doesn't help either.” Gojo let out a sudden laugh after hearing Geto's remark about their client's height. It was quite true. You were bold enough to sneak out of your place and disobey your father. More than that, your personal bodyguards. But it wasn't really your fault either. You had been bugging them to take you to your friend's birthday party and they can even tag along into the club, Satoru did agree, but Suguru isn't easy to convince.
You weren't drunk, well, not yet. Your friends dragged you on the dance floor and got you enough drinks to be carefree and dance away with ease. Gojo stood up, easily towering over everyone there, he immediately found you swaying your hips with your friends, one was behind you with their hands on your hips and the other infront of you, too drunk to process anything. “There she is, her height might not be helpful but those eyes? Yeah.” Geto followed behind Gojo and finally got to where you were dancing. Suguru is a patient man. After all, you're his client. So, he has no choice. He picked you up by your waist and threw you over his shoulder. That's when you finally realized what you were doing and where you were. Gojo was behind Geto, grinning at you and as you looked up to see your surroundings and process what's going on. “What are you two doing here?! How'd you find out where I am!” you hit on Geto's shoulders. Though your light punches were not effective on him
“We have our ways.”
Satoru opened the car's door as Suguru got in the backseat with you, looking behind to make sure that you don't accidentally hit your head on the way. He placed you down on his thigh as Satoru got in after you two, closing the car's door behind him. Suguru shifted you on his lap, making you face him entirely. His big hands gripping onto your hips, you knew it'll leave a mark with the way he was digging his fingers in your milky skin. “it hurts!” you squirm in his lap, trying to escape his rough hands. “Oh it should. You didn't think once before going out on your own, did you think about what could've happened to you? How it would affect us?” He said, his voice laced with anger and concern. You wanted to speak up but you knew you shouldn't. There's really no explanation for your behavior. You felt Satoru's palm snaking up on your thighs, squeezing each part before moving upwards. “We'd like to remind you about the rules we had set when we became your bodyguards, right sugu?”
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“Ah!— too rough!” you protester against suguru's violent thrusts. You were laying on top of Satoru. His cock buried nestled deep inside your velvety walls. He didn't move. He couldn't move. Geto's heavy cock was pounding in you. He couldn't wait no more. Prepping you to take both of them at once wasn't easy. Gojo laid there and enjoyed suguru's base rubbing on his length as he ploughed into you with no mercy. “fucking take it— You have to take it all.” Geto says as he grunts from the way you clenched so deliciously around him. Trapping both him and satoru inside you. Meanwhile, Satoru flicked on your sensitive nipples with his fingers and kissed you to shush you up. Even though anyone who walks or drives past your car would know what's happening inside. “Mmh..you taste like liquor. How many shots did they give you hm?” he asked. You struggled to answer him as suguru pulled you by your hair, your back hitting his chest. Satoru's eyes widen as he notices the small bulge that forms everytime suguru thrusts inside and disappears when he pulls back. He licked his lips and moved his hand from your plump nipples to your swollen clit, rubbing and pinching on it like it's a small toy. You felt the intense pleasure from his fingers and the two cocks already overwhelming you. Before you could moan out, suguru placed his free hand on your mouth, muffling any noises that were about to come out of your mouth. “I'm close..I'm so—close princess...I'm gonna fill you up with all I have. And you're gonna take it.” he punctuated the last two words with hard thrusts. Your head falling on his shoulder as your eyes rolled back. Satoru sits up and kisses on your body, sloppy kisses all over your neck to your chest and stomach, while his fingers kept on fumbling with your puffy clit. Suguru's pace was getting sloppy. You could feel him getting closer and closer to his release. You weren't as close as him. After all they did make you come twice before getting in. It'd take time for your third release. Geto shot his thick and warm semen all the way up to your womb. Filling you up. Your legs went numb as you shuddered. Geto let go of your hair and as you fall on top of Gojo. He slowly pulls out and sits back down, gasping for air. It was finally. Or, was it?
Gojo sighed and placed my legs down, shifting you too as you were now on his lap. “He sure took his sweet time with you baby, but what about me?” Satoru grinned as he slowly thrusted up in your creamy walls. It was far from over.
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heyftinally · 3 days ago
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I specifically want to elaborate on this part:
Decontextualizing and rephrasing an interview: I am not going to pretend that I am an expert in academic best practices, but I do believe one thing, if a person is speaking on their own identity and lived experience, it is always much better to directly quote than it is to rephrase. As I read this source, I initially didn't know that it was AI, and I was already upset. An interview that is widely available on the internet with no pay wall, was poorly sourced and made more vague than it was in the initial text. By creating one degree of seperation between the original words of A WRITER (whose literal job was largely based in choosing the right words to describe experiences they had) harm is already done. It makes vague what was once clear, and removes Keri Hulme's voice from her own narrative.
As someone who has spent a LOT of time and effort on the nitty-gritty of quoting others in professional documents, I feel like I have a pretty good foundation on which to speak about this.
As a general rule, you want to directly quote the speaker as much as possible.
First and foremost, this is because you don't want to put words in their mouth or misrepresent what they said, as that's dishonest on your part as the interviewer/writer/etc, and harms your credibility. Remember the "Coolsville sucks" meme? Yeah, don't be that person. Quotes should be full and verbatim as much as possible, because anything else presents the possibility that you aren't accurately or fully representing what the speaker said.
The second reason is because when you re-word someone else's quote, you inherently inject your own biases into the new version you create. What that means is, consciously or unconsciously, you are influencing the way readers perceive what was said. This is bad because at best, you're speaking over the person who's quote you re-worded. At worst, you're manipulating your readers to think as you do, regardless of what the original quote said.
When presenting a quote from someone else, your job is to communicate as clearly as possible the speaker's original statement and intention. If giving the direct quote is not possible, careful paraphrasing is vital.
If I say "Sara James then went on to express her dissatisfaction with the pay she received", what would you assume the original quote is?
It could be "Yeah, I found out I was only getting paid ⅓ as much as my costar, even though I have 40% more screen time and I did almost all of my own stunts, so needless to say I'm not happy and I've been talking to my team."
But it could ALSO be "I was surprised when I found out what we were all getting paid. Not to sound like a total nepo baby or anything, but normally the projects I do pay more, y'know? But then I found out that the reason pay was lower for everyone - not just me - was because production was donating a whole bunch of money to the local children's hospital since we filmed in the lot next door. Which I thought was really cool of them! Like, obviously the hospital doesn't get much say in the filming, so I thought it was really cool of production to give back as, like, a thank you. Plus we got to go visit the kids, which was just amazing!"
TECHNICALLY in both of these, you could argue that displeasure about pay IS mentioned - but the specifics of the situation are entirely lost in the oversimplified paraphrasing, and THAT is why changing direct quotes can be dangerous.
So, yeah. I just wanted to elaborate on that particular point because it's one I covered *heavily* while in college. How you quote someone is important.
":')))))))) you realise that gen AI is available to everyone though right??? Queer creators can use it just as much as anyone else??? I just don't understand this post... It really feels like a cheap way to get on the 'AI Bad's bandwagon, and coming from such a thoughtful and insightful creator that's incredibly disappointing... It's okay to not comment on subjects you're not an expert in y'know...?"
Y'all know the drill, I am replying to this publicly but that is not an invitation to send any negative messages to the person I am replying to.
Anyways, let me start by saying that the original context of the post you're replying to is discussing an event where a queer org used generative AI to steal an interview with Keri Hulme. So let's start there. To be clear I don't even know if the original interviewer was queer so let's put the identities of stealer and stolen from to the side. I want to explain the harm done in this example specifically and I hope this is illustrative of what harm generative AI can (and does) do.
The original place I saw generative AI was a queer org that explicitly says they are using generative AI "for good", and as a way to bring more queer history to light. So let's take them at their word, and assume they are not out to cause harm. This is the best example of generative AI that I can imagine, so I hope that makes it clear that I am not coming at this issue from bad faith in any way.
Here is the harm they are causing:
Decontextualizing and rephrasing an interview: I am not going to pretend that I am an expert in academic best practices, but I do believe one thing, if a person is speaking on their own identity and lived experience, it is always much better to directly quote than it is to rephrase. As I read this source, I initially didn't know that it was AI, and I was already upset. An interview that is widely available on the internet with no pay wall, was poorly sourced and made more vague than it was in the initial text. By creating one degree of seperation between the original words of A WRITER (whose literal job was largely based in choosing the right words to describe experiences they had) harm is already done. It makes vague what was once clear, and removes Keri Hulme's voice from her own narrative.
The original interviewer is not paid, or given proper recognition: I get it, sometimes just copy pasting an interview doesn't feel transformative enough, but something that one would learn if they worked in the queer history field and weren't a literal robot rehashing what has already been said, is that not everything needs to be transformed. In those cases, we give credit to the person who said the original words (in this case Keri Hulme), and the interviewer who facillitated the conversation (in this case Shelley Bridgeman). This case (again a best case scenario), takes the attention and byline away from the original interviewer and gives it to an AI.
The original publisher of this story is deinsentivised from paying interviewers in the future: The original publisher of this interview has ads on their website. As a person who also has ads on their website, taking an article like this and rephrasing it for no good reason (the orginal word count was not prohibitive and the rephrasing did not make it more readable), takes money from the publisher. It's pennies, but it's also removing numbers could have been used to justify further interviews with asexual people and archiving of asexual stories. The org that stole from this publication does not interview people themselves so the money and numbers that could have gone to continue to preserve asexual stories goes to stealing them instead.
These are just the active harms that I saw in this specific case. As you said, I am not an expert in generative AI, and will not be speaking as if I am. But I will say that asking me not to speak out on active harm that is being caused in queer history spaces, is disrespectful to my many years in this field.
To illustrate this even clearer: if you were a patron, you would know I recently took down an old article. I have been rereading and editing our backlist of articles, and I found one that no longer fit my standards of sourcing. My standards had recently raised due to a video made by HBomberguy about someone in the queer history space who was stealing from other creators. I watched this video not as a work project, but because I watch most of HBomberguys videos, and this one made me think more critically about sourcing. An AI can't do that. All an AI has is what has been inputted, and it is right now impossible to input every available peice of information about ethics into an AI and get a coherent ethical basis on which it will function.
It is a distinctly human trait to absorb information and change in that way. AI can rephrase information that already exists, steal it, recontextualize it even, but it cannot create something altogether new.
Do I believe that there one day might be an ethical use for Generative AI? Maybe. Do I believe that coming into a queer history space, stealing the words of a Maori asexual author, rephrasing them, and giving the original interviewer and publication no form of compensation for their work, is accomplishing that? No.
On a more personal note: I am coming at this issue with a bias. As a queer history creator, I do not want AI in my space, because it is literally damaging to my financial prospects. It has been like pulling teeth to try and get patrons in the current state of the global economy. I don't blame anyone from that, but I feel very disrespected that I am being asked to compete with a machine now. Not only that, but I am being asked to shut up and be fine with it? No, absolutely not. I cannot and will not stay quiet as space that I have fought tooth and nail to create in mainstream discussions is taken and given to AI.
AI was not supporting me when I was sent gore to try and scare me off of discussing queer history. A person did that. AI was not there to tell me I had written too many sad stories, and I needed some happy endings to remind myself of the good in the world. A person did that. AI was not there when I was being harrassed for supporting and including asexual stories on my website. A person did that.
And after all that, I am being asked to lie down and take it when my ability to pay the people who supported me in those ways, is being threatened. Nope. Not going to happen.
An AI doesn't have to make rent. An AI doesn't understand what it feels like to have to stop holding their wife's hand in public. An AI didn't get calls from people needing comfort in reaction to the election. Pay me for my work, and get this AI nonsense out of my face.
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myownwholewildworld · 1 day ago
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DARKEST DESIRES ― a Boston QZ!Joel oneshot
main masterlist | ao3 pairing: Boston QZ!Joel x f!reader. summary: you promised Joel something he's been thirsting after for a while ― your ass. so you decide to make good on said promise. a/n: am i sick? probably. undoubtedly, really. this is a sequel to A Dark Summon, but it can totally be read independently. this was prompted by this kind ask (love you, nonnie). also, do you remember that post about frankie morales saying "big stretch"? WELL, YEAH (sorry, meant to tag it but i lost it!). anyways, please heed the warnings! comments and reblogs appreciated to keep the thots thotting <3 take care! x warnings: 18+, mdni. sexual roleplay (cnc). mind the hefty age gap (reader is 19, joel is 56, oopsie). pet names (kiddo, daddy's girl, little girl, etc). sir/daddy kink. dom!joel, sub!reader (possibly some ddlg dynamics). slut shaming. unprotected piv. squirting. sleepy blowjob (consensual somno). breath play. sex toys (dildo, butt plug). mention of rimming. joel (the birthday boy) fucks your virginal ass, anal sex (faked painal). reader is a blank slate with no backstory, has hair. dual pov. no use of y/n. w/c: ~5.4k. divider by @\cafekitsune
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You were so nervous, your hands were shaking with excitement.
Living in Boston’s QZ was not easy, and trading was even worse. Because you were young―just turned nineteen a couple of months ago―dealers tried to take advantage of you, asking for more than they would to other people. But you were smart and the moment you learnt that dropping Joel’s name in conversation would actually give you a discount, you used that tactic frequently.
Most people in Boston were too preoccupied with life to be gossiping about the age difference between Joel and you, but there were some that would scan you from head to toe several times with disdain. Some with jealousy, others with horror.
“She’s too young, could be his daughter.”
“He’s too old, bet he can’t keep up with her.”
“She’s too young, it’s indecent.”
“He’s too old, I’m sure that little girl can’t satisfy him like I would.”
“She’s too young, no wonder why she’s always cheating on him.”
“He’s too old, I don’t know what he’s seen in her.”
You had heard it all. And you couldn’t care less. Joel, on the other hand, was a bit more sensitive when people criticized you ― like a guard dog protecting its prey. The relationship between the two of you was private, except for the times that you would hook up with a random guy in an alley with Joel attentively spying on you from the shadows.
He liked to watch, and you liked being watched. In your eyes, it was a match made in heaven. It never went further than a hand job, and you never let them touch your pussy ― Joel was extremely possessive of her. He enjoyed the look on their stupid faces whenever you pulled away, leaving them dumbfounded in the brink of an orgasm, and you would run to him, all giddy and ready to finish him off right there and then.
It was lewd, obscene, but you loved it. And so did he. Joel had shown you a whole new world when he took your virginity almost a year ago. Since then, you had been insatiable, too eager to be fucked stupid by your old man. Your daddy.
Every day you would sneak out and come over to his place to be pumped full of his cum, to have him drill you until you forgot your name and your legs wouldn’t keep you upright. And then you would go back home, spent yet satisfied, with your pussy full to the brim and your panties drenched with your mixed arousal.
Today though you were planning on spending the night here. It was Joel’s birthday and you had planned a special surprise for him. One that had cost you, but the price was definitely worth it.
You knew how avid Joel was about fucking your ass ― he almost reminded you daily. He had been preparing you for when the time came, some mild anal play to get you going. Last night, as Joel ate your asshole out, you promised to yourself that you wouldn’t postpone it anymore and today would be the day. What better present for Joel than your virginal ass?
So here you were, all naked and squeaky clean for him. You had draped a red ribbon around your waist. A big, scarlet bow laid low on the small of your back, making it obvious what his gift was. You also had a smaller parcel, all wrapped up with some old newspapers.
The moment you heard the front door creak, your heart jolted with anticipation and your stomach flipped. Turning around to face away from him, you dropped to your knees and leaned forward until your forehead rested on the floor and your knees touched your chest ― your ass on full display for him.
“Kiddo?” he called.
Joel’s brows furrowed deeper when he didn’t hear a reply. He knew you were here, your recognisable scent betraying your presence. Confused, he walked the small hallway and entered the living room.
His eyes immediately fell to where you were positioned, and a rush of hot blood coursed through his veins like liquid fire, all the way down to his groin. You had knelt and bent over, your perky ass up in the air for him to admire. A red bow topped your ass cheeks, the meaning of all this becoming instantly clear.
With a sly grin, Joel rubbed his palms together, taking a step forward.
“You’ve not forgotten about my birthday, have you, sugar?” he croaked, raspy and hoarse.
“No, sir, I haven’t,” you murmured, wiggling your ass a bit for him.
Joel groaned, the tension in his pants growing tighter, while he knelt behind you. The offer was irresistible, the way your flesh jiggled commended him to smack both of your buttocks. You whimpered, your back arching some more and your crack pulling further apart.
His fingers twitched with need, grabbing a handful of your meat. Joel was mesmerised by the view ― your puckered entrance so very inviting, and your beautiful seam glistening with slick right below.
Unable to refrain himself, his index dipped in the warmth of your damp pussy, tracing it entirely until the pad caught on your beating clit. You sighed heavily, melting under his digit.
“Why are you all wet already? Have you been playing with yourself?” he questioned, voice laced with lustful anger.
“Yes, sorry, sir. I was thinking about you, about what is gonna happen tonight, and… mhmm…” you hiccupped when he flicked your clit, “I did finger myself, but I didn’t come, I promise.”
Joel’s chest rumbled, frustrated. His orders were clear ― no touching yourself, nothing at all, even if you were horny. He wanted you needy and ready to take his cock when he came home from a rough day of patrol.
“How many fingers?” he barked, pinching your hooded clit between his index and middle fingers. You wailed in mild pain, your hips bucking up and away from his touch, but Joel didn’t release your thudding button.
“Just the one. Just the pinky, I swear. I know you like my pussy tight and unstretched, sir,” your sob transformed into a moan when his thumb found your trapped clit.
“Attagirl,” Joel rasped. “I don’t want your cunt all used and loose, you’re too young to feel like an old hag around my cock.” His thumb pressed tight circles on your pebbled nub before he removed his hand from your pussy. “I will let it slide. This one time.”
The warning in his tone made you nod vehemently, as you looked over your shoulder to him. Your bottom lip was trembling, your doe eyes pleading.
“Do you forgive me, sir?”
Joel gave you a stern look before he slapped your ass cheek, and you winced in response.
“I’ll think about it, kiddo,” he already had, but wouldn’t tell you yet.
“What can I do to help you make up your mind, sir?” a single tear skidded through your cheek, bottom lip still quivering.
Joel loved how easy you would tear up, you were a natural when it came to acting.
“There’s this one thing I have in mind,” Joel muttered, his thumb ghosting your butthole. “So clean, sugar. Can’t fucking wait to dive in.”
“I washed myself really well for you, sir. I used an enema too,” you whispered, averting your eyes shyly.
“So no messy sex?” Joel almost sounded disappointed, but he was just toying with you.
“No, I couldn’t, sir,” you bit down your bottom lip, eyes shut and the apples of your face burning with shame, when the pad of his thumb gently pressed the tight ring in your crack. “Oh…”
“You like that, don’t you? All this time denying me my right to fuck your ass, and now look at ya, begging to have your butthole impaled. Did rimming your tight ass yesterday change your mind?”
You shook your head yes eagerly and pushed your hips backwards until your ass was resting on his lap, thumb still stroking you right where you needed. You rubbed your buttocks against his jeans, your weeping seam sliding on his zipper.
“I-I loved it. I’m s-so ready now, sir,” you stuttered, pouting when he stood up.
“You poor little thing. Let’s break this seal then, shall we? But I need you to work me hard first.”
Joel moved towards the couch, and you followed him, walking on all fours behind him as if you were his little doggy. Next time, he would get you a collar and a leash, he thought as he sat down, and the old cushion gave way under him.
He coaxed his legs apart to make room for you between his thighs. You didn’t need any further instructions: you were already unbuckling his belt, your tiny hand dipping in his underwear to release his flaccid cock. His dick was still soft, just started to harden a few minutes ago.
Leaning forward, you pulled back the skin on his shaft and kissed the reddened tip. Then your tongue twirled around his cockhead, slurping sloppily as you bobbed your head down his length. Joel felt his dick growing harder, bigger in your warm mouth, and he groaned with satisfaction.
You loved how Joel’s soft cock would slowly stiffen between your lips, how his weight would grow heavier on your tongue as you sucked him off. Although you played to be submissive to him, this was a reminder of the actual power you held over him. Not only a reminder to yourself, but also to him. Despite being fifty-six, you were able to work Joel hard in a couple of minutes with the brush of your tongue and the seal of your plump lips. You were proud of it.
“What’s all this?” Joel asked as he leaned over, his chest pushing your throat further down on his now throbbing cock.
Your partner grabbed the box you had wrapped from the coffee table, along with the ashtray and a cigar you almost had to sell your soul for.
“Your other present, sir,” you managed to mumble, mouth full of his hard erection.
Your saliva skidded down his veiny shaft, pooling on the thick, dark curls at the base of his cock.
“I didn’t say stop. Keep sucking, kiddo,” his reproach scolded you, and quickly resumed your job.
You heard him lighting the cigar and then tearing the newspaper apart, while you took in as many inches as you could. Now that you had felt a few cocks on the palm of your hand, Joel’s had no rival. He was so gifted, and you felt lucky you were the one getting it all for yourself.
He’d been training you to swallow him whole, and practice made perfect. So after a couple more dives, your lips reached the base as the underside of his cock dragged easily along your tongue.
Your eyes welled up due to the strain and you suppressed the gag reflex, the fluttering of your throat around his girth making Joel moan. His left hand landed on the back of your head, pushing you down.
“Your mouth was made for me, sugar,” he praised you and you revelled in his compliment, swaying your hips sideways.
He placed the box on your back and opened it. You couldn’t see him but knew his face expression would light up with a sinful smirk.
Joel cackled and smacked one of your round globes, careful of not messing up the cute bow.
“Oh, you dirty slut.”
Joel pulled you off his erection by tugging at your hair. By the way his brown eyes took you in, you had to be a pretty picture ― messy hair and makeup, swollen lips, your skin glistening from your nose down to your chin with his precum and your spit.
One of his hands was holding a small butt plug. It was made of black silicone, pointier and ridged. It had four inches of insertable length, and the diameter was one inch thick.
Joel let out a whistle.
“You traded for this?” you nodded, batting your eyelashes at him. “Good fucking girl.”
He leaned forward to kiss you, his lips demanding and fierce. Your tangled tongues fought with each other, but Joel always won, subduing you quickly.
Both his hands roamed your bare body, rough calloused palms caressing your cold skin, which bristled under his touch. Joel traced your underboob, then suddenly pinched both of your taut nipples and pulled.
You flinched, a thunder of pain radiating from your tits all the way down to your pussy. Wet, sticky heat pooled between your thighs, clit pulsing and hole clenching around nothing. How could pain turn you on so fucking much?
“Move your pretty ass to the bedroom, kiddo,” Joel commanded.
Springing to your feet, you obeyed, leading the way to his bed. The room was dark and bare, with no personal items anywhere to be seen. Joel kept to himself, sharing little snippets of his life when he felt like it. You never pushed for information, knowing that he would open up at his own pace.
Putting on your best innocent gaze, you turned around to face him once you were at the foot of the bed.
“Can we play rough… daddy, please?” the term slipped from your tongue accidentally.
You covered your mouth at the realisation ― you’d never called him daddy, not out loud. In your mind you had done so several times, but you were not able to gauge how Joel would react if you did.
You were about to find out.
Joel growled at you, one broad hand wrapping around your throat ― his fingers dug on the sides of your neck. Tilting your chin up, you gasped, your hips lurching forward until they pressed against his erect dick.
“Who’s your daddy, kiddo?” Joel groaned, grazing your chin with his teeth.
“Y-you, daddy,” you replied, slowly understanding that despite his aggressive reaction, he actually liked it. “Joel Miller is my daddy.”
“Damn right I am,” he snarled like an animal. He hovered the anal plug over your mouth, “Open.” Joel slotted it between your lips. “Suck on it, daddy’s girl needs her pacifier for what’s to come. Don’t want the neighbours coming over to check if I’ve killed someone.”
When he turned you around and pushed you towards the bed, you knew the game was on. Your shins hit the metal bedframe; with another push from Joel on your shoulders, you fell face first on the unkempt bed.
“No, daddy, please, no,” you began whimpering around the plug, squirming as he sank a knee into the mattress.
Joel grabbed both of your wrists with the span of one broad hand and pressed them onto the small of your back. He tilted forward, his weeping glans gliding on your sticky slit a few times. He tapped your clit four times with his cockhead, the last tap harsher than the others, and then he stabbed your clenching hole.
You writhed under him, audibly crying now, when the tip of his cock kissed your cervix. You forced tears to fall down your cheeks and mouthed a scream around the butt plug in your mouth.
“It hurts!” you feigned a painful wail, when in reality your pussy was fluttering around his gifted circumference with delight.
Joel groaned above you, buried down to the hilt, and placed his free hand on the back of your head. Then he pushed your skull down into the mattress, almost smothering you as you tried to gasp for air.
“Shut up, you bitch. Take it,” his hips snapped back, cock almost sliding out of your cunt, and then forced his way into your pussy again.
Your old man picked up a relentless pace, the nasty, sucking sound of your wetness reverberating in the room as Joel fucked you stupid, drilling you into the bed like a man possessed.
Joel freed your wrists for his left thumb to find your empty rimmed hole. He started stroking it slowly again, and you squeezed your sphincter at the touch. Unhurriedly, he worked your butthole until your muscles relaxed, then took the opportunity to ploddingly insert the first phalange in your ass.
Seeing stars behind your eyes, your hips involuntarily jerked up, swallowing the second phalange of his thumb. When Joel began pumping your tight ass with his digit, your pussy palpitated around his cock.
“You like that, don’tcha? Nasty, stupid little girl,” Joel groaned, his thrusts unforgiving whilst his thick finger twirled inside you.
You hummed loudly around the butt plug, feeling lightheaded and dizzy due to the lack of oxygen, but also to the intense pleasure, one you had not felt before.
“Mhm-mm-mhmmm-mhmmmmm,” the crescendo in your mumbling plea peaked, your lungs now burning.
Then Joel released his purchase on your hair, and your neck snapped back as you mouthed for air. Your heartrate spiked, even feeling it in your gums. Joel’s unabating shoves along with his devilish thumb finally sent you over the edge and you jumped off the cliff of your pleasure blindly. Your throbbing pussy clamped around his cock like a vice, the wave of your climax drowning you as Joel fucked you through it.
With toes curling, eyes glassy and drool falling off the corners of your busy mouth, all your muscles went suddenly limp. Your spent cunt still quivered around Joel’s dick, who hadn’t stopped jackhammering into you with renewed vigour.
Hastily, Joel pulled back and out of the heat of your tight pussy, digging up his thumb in the process too. One more second and he would have spilt inside. While he was sure he could have another erection, even at fifty-six, he rather not risk it.
His rough hand wrapped around his cockhead, reining in the need to come.
“Fuck, you almost got me there, sugar,” he cackled, running his hand down his face.
You didn’t reply. You were sprawled across his bedsheets like a fuck toy, your thighs still trembling with the aftershock of your orgasm. Joel was sure that even without the butt plug in your mouth, you would not have been able to string two coherent words together.
His lustful eyes lingered on the red bow crowning the swell of your buttocks. He was dying to untie it, to unwrap his most precious present and make good use of it. But first he needed you ready.
“Gimme that,” he uncurled his hand in front of your mouth, and you spat out the butt plug.
Standing firm behind you, he teased your pursed hole with the silicone tip. You stirred at the touch but were so out of tune with your own body, you didn’t fight him. He twisted the plug around, circling in your orifice. Slowly it went in, and when it bottomed out, your eyes snapped open, and you grizzled.
“Stay put,” he ordered you, stepping back.
Joel admired how the handle stuck out, peeking between your round globes. With a huff, he stroked his length as he walked towards the nightstand. Opened the drawer and pulled out your favourite pink dildo. It was slim and slightly curved ― you loved how the tip always hit the right spot inside your pussy.
He retraced his steps back to the foot of the bed and slid the toy between your clammy flaps, wetting it with your juices. You squirmed at the cold touch but relaxed when you realised what it was.
“Gonna have both holes full to the fucking brim, babydoll,” he mocked you sneeringly, wedging the dildo in your crying pussy until it snugly sat inside. “She’s so greedy.”
“Daddy, please, I can’t. I’m hurting,” you pleaded, sobbed even.
“I don’t fucking care. I’ll fuck your ass through the pain. A gift is a gift, kiddo,” he mumbled darkly.
Joel followed along and would not stop unless you said, “you piece of shit.” That was the agreement, the safe words you would use if you really started feeling insufferable pain. So far, you hadn’t spoken the words, giving him free rein to do with you as he pleased.
Looking at you with your perky ass up with the satin bow on top, a dildo in your weeping cunt and the butt plug poking out of your asshole, he knew himself a lucky bastard. How you fully trusted him, giving in to his darkest desires and coming up with your own. The last year had been a revelation for both of you ― you matched his freak so well.
To hell with what people thought, you were everything he had been looking for.
Fisting the base of his thudding cock, he slowly removed the anal plug, the pop sound enticing. Joel watched your open hole squeezing again until it puckered in your fold. He was mesmerised imagining how your walls would feel around him.
“Fuck,” he muttered, biting down his bottom lip.
Hypnotised, Joel pushed the plug back in your butt, slowly and steadily, watching eagerly how your rimmed entrance swallowed the beads.
“No, daddy, it hurts. Please, take it out,” you begged him with a small, breathless voice.
“Shut the fuck up,” he warned you.
With one hand he pumped the dildo, dragging the pointy tip along your anterior wall to hit the spongy spot of your pleasure, and the other performed similar motions with the butt plug.
You mewled like a kitten, your passion ringing in his ears like he was high on drugs. Seeing you like this, all pliable and surrendered, had him on the brink of coming ― teetering on the edge, precum sliding down his shaft.
When you started humping the bedsheets, causing friction in your unattended clit, Joel knew you were close to another climax. Feeling considerate, he let you chase your own high, both of his hands working the sex toys in your holes.
“I― Good fucking lord, I’m… com… I’m coming, daddy. C-can I…?” you asked for his permission, his chest swelling at your request.
“Yeah, kiddo. Come for daddy,” he rasped, feeling drunk on your ecstasy.
You finally let go again, your whole body quivering like a leaf falling off a tree. He saw your inner labia squeezing the dildo and for a second Joel regretted it wasn’t his cock ― how good it would feel to have your fluttering pussy hug him tight.
But he had to persevere. The gift was worth it.
As your body still adjusted to the aftermath, Joel pulled out the butt plug carefully. The toy slid out easily, and he watched again how your hole stretched back to its normal size.
Throwing the plug to one side on the bed, Joel untied the red, satin bow on your lower back with steady fingers, taking in the moment. He felt like a mayor inaugurating a new building, presenting it to the press. This building was only his to dilapidate. The ribbon fell through his fingers.
Joel slipped one hand between your thighs, caressing around the dildo to gather some of your slick and gently buttering it into your rimmed opening. You said nothing ― eyes shut and mouth agape, it was almost as if you were peacefully sleeping.
He repeated the process a few times, but felt it wasn’t enough. Bending down, he spat in your ass until his mouth was dry. Then positioned his weeping cock right in the fold of your ass and pressed your buttocks together to hump your butt crack. Again, you didn’t react, your drool pooling on the bedsheets.
“What a fucking sight,” he said under his breath, the tip of his girthy dick finally hitching in your asshole.
Slowly he pushed the glans in, then back out, then back in, testing the waters. You squirmed a little, your brows furrowing innocently and your nose scrunching.
“Biiiiig stretch, kiddo,” he managed to groan between gritted teeth, jaw painfully clenched as his cock finally burrowed in your puckered entrance.
That was when your glassy eyes snapped open, and both your hands fisted the bedsheets.
“DADDY!” you screamed at the top of your lungs.
It was hot and tight inside, very soft too, sweat gathering on his brow in concentration. Your sphincter crushed his hard cock and Joel felt like losing control over his own actions.
Another piercing shriek from you brought him back, his hips slowly working your hole with his length. He was only halfway in, you still had a few inches to take.
“You pie― Ohhhh, ah, mhmm…” his hand was quick to find the pebbled nub in your slit, petting it gently, pressing tight circles.
The distraction worked, because soon enough his dick was fully sitting in your ass. Joel pulled back, then back in, guiding your movements by pressing his free hand on your belly, holding your waist up and moving you with him. His right ring and middle fingers stroked your pearly clit relentlessly ― you were melting again.
This was heaven. Fucking heaven, he thought. How the muscles in your ass contracted around him, making him feel woozy. How you keened. How he just knew your pussy was fluttering around your pink dildo. How your clit was extremely wet, his fingers almost slipping on your velvety skin, almost unable to catch on your button.
It wasn’t painful, it was extremely overwhelming. Your mind felt like a spongy cloud, completely blissed out. Your soul had literally left your body, that was how empty your brain was. You were so full ― the dildo cozily inside you, Joel’s girthy cock blasting your entrails without a pause. Having him fully seated in your asshole was the most euphoric experience you had ever lived ― your pulse adjusted to his, two hearts beating as one.
It was too much, but it could be even more. Slithering one hand between your body and the bed, you found the dildo. Slowly you rocked it in and out of your damp pussy ― when Joel pulled out, you pushed in.
Elated, little, pathetic sobs escaped your mouth ― real, blissful tears wetting your cheeks, whimpering as your puffy lips wolfed down the pink toy. Your clit felt on fucking fire, Joel’s fingers fondling it to a point where you thought you might actually die.
You were coming again ― Joel could fucking feel it in his bones. Only this time, you squirted all over him, the warm liquid running down his thighs like a cascade whilst your whole body quaked uncontrollably.
“Oh my! Daddy! DADDY!” you wailed as he fucked you through it, hips almost stuttering now. “I can feel you in my guts! OH, FUCKING HELL!”
That was fucking it. With a guttural groan, Joel finally came, thick, sticky ropes spilling in your ass, painting your walls white. For a minute, he kept on filling you with his cum, cock maddingly twitching inside you. He closed his eyes and heavily sighed, as if the biggest weight had been taken off his shoulders.
By the time he was done, Joel was heaving, his chest rising in quick succession. That had been the best sex he’d ever had, and he was no novice like you. God, even his legs were trembling with effort.
Joel smacked both your ass cheeks as you plummeted onto the bed, a stupid grin curling the corners of your sinful mouth. You rolled to your side to look at him ― a fucked-out expression, your eyes hazy, sweaty hair sticking to your face.
The way you lazily smiled at him made his heart skip a beat.
“That was… something else,” you whispered, half asleep, totally spent.
Joel couldn’t help but chortle.
“I told you, kiddo,” he said, manoeuvring you back onto your belly so he could watch his semen gushing out your ass. “Squeeze your butthole for me, babydoll. Get it all out.”
You obeyed, all his cum slowly trickling out until your ass was empty.
“Good girl,” he praised you.
He admired the view for a hot minute ― you were a dewy mess, tangled in his bedsheets, with the pink dildo still poking out your sweet pussy. So tight, he thought, your slick cunt wouldn’t release it even when he gently tugged at it. Joel didn’t have the heart to take such comfort away from you yet, so he left the dildo in.
Joel disappeared into the bathroom after that to shower quickly. Then grabbed some wet towels and went back to the bedroom, naked as you were, to find you soundly asleep in an odd position.
He cleaned you up ― first your sweaty face, then your upper body. Joel coaxed your legs apart and couldn’t resist the urge to bow down and press a sweet kiss to your clit, slowly extracting the dildo from your pussy.
You hummed in your sleep, jaw slack and snoring lightly.
“The best daddy’s girl one could ask for,” he purred before resuming the task of rubbing your cunt and your ass clean. Joel was extremely diligent with your hygiene and care.
There was a big puddle on his bedsheets, right where your pussy had been leaking all along. He’d deal with that in the morning, didn’t want to wake you up now ― you needed the rest.
Joel sauntered towards the living room, seizing the forgotten cigar and the ashtray. Then returned to bed, and dragged your body up the bed until your head was resting on his lap. You unconsciously nuzzled his soft dick, your hot breath fanning the thick curls at the base.
Joel raked his fingers through your hair as he took a puff, the cigar crackling.
“You’re gonna be the end of me, kiddo.”
In your sleep, you stirred ― your plump, cherry lips caressing his base. Joel’s head slacked back against the headboard as he smoked.
“Fuck,” he cursed himself, feeling his dick harden again.
You were giving him no option ― there was nothing worse than going to bed with a hard-on. Joel knew you wouldn’t want that for him.
His fingers left your scalp, took one more puff and placed the cigar down on the ashtray. Joel cupped your chin, tilting your head up and back, while his other hand guided the slick tip of his cock to your lips. The moment your mouth was in contact with his dick, instinctually you suckled on his pearly glans.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Joel gritted, voice gravelly. “That’s it, be a good little girl for daddy.”
Joel gently rocked his hips under you, only the tip disappearing between your sinful lips ― he didn’t want to wake you, not when you looked like an angel right now.
This was a recurrent dream of yours. Most nights, you found yourself drifting away and thinking about your old man’s beautiful dick. It was soothing when you latched onto his glans, just like you were doing right now ― unbeknownst to you.
In your dream, your tongue pressed against the slit on his throbbing cockhead while your lips would seal around it to suck on it. Then his underside would slide along your tongue, kissing your palate gently. Sometimes you would stop, glans sitting warmly in your mouth, and the hand resting on his thigh would find the soft balls underneath to massage them delicately. Then your tongue would resume its petting.
Heat peaked inside your mouth, and that made you scowled slightly. Smacking your lips together, sleepily, you realised that there was something warm and sticky pooling in your mouth.
Your eyes fluttered open, still drowsy, and found Joel’s darkened ones. Your head was resting on his lap, the palm of his hand caressing your cheek while his thumb stroked your chin. Sluggishly, you smiled at him, rubbing one eye with the back of your hand.
“Sorry to wake you,” he apologised before he took a drag of the cigar. “Swallow daddy’s gift, sugar.”
His words made you realise that what you had in your mouth was his cum. Your grin grew wider as the tasty seed of Joel slid down your throat. You liked it when he took what was his without asking.
“Attagirl. Now back to sleep, kiddo. It’s past your bedtime,” he commended you, and you nodded absentmindedly.
Nudging his dick and tucking your hands under his thigh, you pressed a soft kiss on his cockhead, then closed your eyes.
“Thank you,” you sighed contently, to both Joel and his dick.
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tldrthor · 3 days ago
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things we shouldn't have said | steve rogers
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Summary: The Captain has a scathing outburst that puts their already rocky relationship six feet under for good. He reaps the consequences when she gets hurt while looking out for him.
Part one // She was watching my back, and I wasn't watching hers. // word count: 3k
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I am sick and tired of you endangering yourself and others, (y/l/n)!” The shouting started from behind the frosted panes of the meeting room. Tony, sitting on one of the benches outside, wondered if he had considered that the meeting room wouldn’t be soundproofed enough to stop people hearing sensitive information, or, if you were Steve and (y/n), insanely loud arguments nearly every day. It seemed like a design flaw.
“You were the one who made the wrong call! They weren’t on the left wing, they were on the right, who knows what could’ve happened if I hadn’t followed my instincts?!”
“It doesn’t matter, you flung yourself headfirst into danger, and disobeyed a direct order.”
“I’m not your soldier, Rogers. And I told you exactly what was happening, you just didn’t listen!”
Natasha banged the back of her head repeatedly on the wall she leant on. “How long do we reckon this ones going to take? I need a shower.” She sighed, sniffing at her armpits and wincing a little at the result. 
Tony looked at his watch, responding: “If I am correct in my estimation (y/n) will storm out right around …” The door to the meeting room burst open, and out barrelled a seething Agent (y/l/n). “Now.” Tony concluded, as the others laughed at his uncanny ability to predict how a Rogers-(y/l/n) fight went. He waved his hand and lowered his head in a fake bow.
“Do you think they’ll ever get along?” Young, innocent, naïve Peter asked. He had previously been fast asleep sitting upright in the uncomfortable waiting chairs. The sound of the door hitting the plasterboard on the wall had startled him awake.
Sam chuckled. “Kid, those two have been at each other’s throats since you were in middle school. It’s just what they do.”
Peter seemed to accept that answer, nodding slowly before covering a yawn with his hand. “That's classic enemies to lovers stuff.” He was nearly asleep again by the time the others had processed his statement enough to question what it meant.
The door opened again. “Come on, let’s debrief.” Cap pulled an anxious hand through his hair, clearly in turmoil. The Captain looked exhausted, his eyes nearly bloodshot. The bags under his eyes were some of the worst Tony had ever seen, and that was saying something. When his eyes landed on Peter, he shook his head, “Pete, head to bed. You’re beat.”
Peter nodded again, but fell asleep in the exact same position, approximately 0.3 seconds after the door closed behind the other Avengers.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Good morning." (Y/n) muttered, walking into the briefing room with a coffee in hand. It wasn’t like her to be late, especially not with coffee. Tony realised that lately, she had been more and more demoralised after every mission. Especially after every argument with Cap. He was worried there was more going on with her than they knew. 
Nevertheless, he couldn’t resist a dig.
"Don't you hate it when someone turns up late to a meeting with Starbucks in hand?" Tony tilted his head and spoke with sarcasm coating nearly every word.
"Bite me, tin man." She joked with her mentor. It wasn’t her usual chipper humour, but rather much more subdued, more pointed. She looked more tired than usual as well, Tony noted. But he had a meeting to present, and an interview in an hour, so there wasn’t much time to mull it over.
Steve didn’t pick up on anything strange, blinded by his annoyance. He shook his head silently in the corner, jaw tensed, eyes sending daggers into her with every step she took.
"Young lady, you are in a terrible mood this morning. And, I'm about to make it worse." Tony flashed her a charming but sarcastic smile. "We've got a code red recon mission over in Europe, and only you and our dear fearless leader are available to man it."
Her face immediately fell, but she wasn't the first to find her voice.
"Nope. There's no way." Steve responded to the news. She sent him a foul look at his rude outburst, before chiming in with her own.
"Rude, Rogers. But agreed, you send us on that mission, one of us is coming back in a body bag." And it won't be me. She thought.
He wouldn't meet her eyes, his tense posture maintaining an intense gaze on Tony. His arms, crossed, shoulders raised nearly to his ears.
Tony rolled his eyes at their reactions. "You guys need to stop your middle school bullshit. We're the Avengers, and at the end of the day, we've got each other's backs."
She decided to bite her tongue, opting for a vicious look towards Tony instead. Sure, it would be awful, but she wouldn’t mind a chance to prove to Steve that she was a valuable member of the team, and shove it in his face that he was wrong about her. 
She looked towards him, expecting him to have a similar disposition. Mr. Upstanding, the moral preacher. To her shock, he didn’t. And god, was he vocal about it.
“No, she’s a goddamn liability.” He turned to her with a withering, disdainful look. “She messes up every mission, and I’ve had enough. I’m not putting a code red in her hands, she doesn’t have the skills for it.” He immediately turned to face her, expecting her to fire back with the same passion.
He didn’t expect her neutral, almost – almost – hurt expression. She pressed her lips into a straight line, and his heart dropped when he thought maybe there were tears in her eyes. For just a second.
He might have gone too far. He didn’t think he would ever miss her rebuttals, her constant nitpicking, her endless talking back. But at this moment, he knew he would have preferred it. 
She looked away from him, and back to Tony, who watched the outburst with an open mouth. It wasn’t very often he was rendered speechless, but it took a solid ten seconds for him to clear his throat, pick his jaw up off the floor and continue.
“Unfortunately, there is no other choice, um, so hopefully that will go smoothly. You will leave at 8am sharp tomorrow. Uh … onto other business…”
(Y/n) drowned the rest of Tony’s briefing out as she replayed the Captain’s outburst over and over again. Liability. Messes up every mission. Doesn’t have the skills. It was all of her worst fears come true, packaged up neatly coming from the mouth of someone she had always secretly admired. Not that she would ever tell him that.
She wasn't sure why, but his words had cut her to the core.
An excruciating thirty minutes later, Tony concluded his meeting. “Okay, everyone out. Except Cap, we have to talk about logistics for tomorrow.” He watched with eagle eyes as (y/n) ran out of the room, lowering her face and ignoring anyone who sent pitying looks her way.
He turned to the Captain, who covered a bright red face with his hands.
“Now what the hell was that?” He asked.
Cap groaned, “I messed up.” 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
8am. Sharp. She took a deep breath as she left her room, locking the door behind her. Her pack wasn’t too heavy, considering they were only supposed to be gone for a couple of nights max. Her chest felt tight, walking to the aircraft hangar, a pit of dread growing and growing with every step.
Before she met the hangar, she passed by Tony’s office. It was one of Tony’s off days, so she knew he wouldn’t be in. She slipped an envelope under the door, hoping he would only see it once she was long gone.
“See ya later.” She whispered to no-one.
Trudging to what felt like the executioner’s block, she was dismayed to see Steve already fully ready and waiting for her. She braced herself for the lecture, for the ‘we said leave at 8am, not arrive.’ But it didn’t come. 
“Good morning.” He spoke cordially, almost upbeat. Making up for something.
She could only manage a polite smile in return. He frowned at the lack of response, but she didn’t see it. 
“All systems ready to go.” She said, once she had got a seat and checked all her listed items. Steve nodded, and made a call through the radio to air control. “Alpha base control, this is Eagle and Wunderkind, ready to take off.” She hated hearing him say her nickname from Tony, which had become her official callsign for all base activities. 
Through the headset, she heard the confirmation from ATC, and watched as the Captain piloted the quinjet up and away from the base. God, it was going to be a long trip. 
As soon as she could, she took off her harness and retreated back to the seats further away from him. She heard the gentle click and mechanical thrum of the auto-pilot being put on, and the movement of the leather seats as Steve moved away from the cockpit.
She felt his presence over her as she tried to focus on her kindle. She had been reading and re-reading the same page, over and over, desperately trying to take in the words. But it was futile. 
“(y/n).” He sighed, knowing that she was purposefully ignoring him. “I want to apologise for my outburst at the meeting yesterday.”
She shrugged. He desperately searched for some kind of anger, some kind of white-hot hurt that she would respond with. It was what he deserved, after he had embarrassed her and doubted her in front of the whole team. 
“You told me how you really feel. It’s okay.” She still didn’t look at him.
“That’s not –” He huffed. “That’s not what I think. I was out of line.” It seemed that the words he wanted eluded him. What do you say to someone after you’ve put out their spark? How do you ‘fix’ a quenched fire?
“It’s fine, Captain. Honestly.” 
Rogers sighed and understood that he was being subtly asked to leave. He understood, really. But there was something about her dejected manner, her slumping posture and her big, sad eyes that made him feel like more of a villain than he already did. Like he had kicked a puppy, or stolen candy from a baby or…
Completely humiliated one of the newest Avengers in front of the whole team.
“I’m sorry.” He managed to stutter out, before turning and leaving to fiddle with some of the controls on the quinjet’s interface. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The rest of the six hours were long. Painfully, achingly long. The tension in the atmosphere was only marginally cut by the quiet hum of the engine and the tap, tap, tap of the Captain getting some work done. The captain spent a longer time staring at his comrade than he would ever admit, watching as she frowned at her book. She turned one page approximately every five minutes, her eyes continually moving from the top to the bottom of the same page, over and over again. Her frustrated sighing the only sign of emotion coming from her.
He took a deep breath, trying to remove the suffocating guilt from his chest.
Standing, he waved a hand in her line of sight, interrupting her ‘reading’ session. She slid her headphones off, looking up at him expectantly. “We’re going down.” He spoke. “Thought you would like to get ready.”
The problem with recon missions was that a quinjet was a dead giveaway. So, they had to take their large, heavy packs, and camp out in the forest surrounding the castle. Why was it always a castle?
The hike was hard. The frost on the path made it difficult to get a proper grip on the near-vertical slope, and she realised quickly she had forgotten her gloves. The frost nipped at her hands, growing more painful with her step. She cursed Tony for sending them here in the dead of winter.
She threw her pack up a ledge, scrambling up behind it. While scrambling up the side, she made the mistake of grabbing on to a bundle of brambles. She hissed and retracted her hand, a line of crimson appearing straight across her palm, a precious droplet splashing down onto the snow. 
“You good?” Steve turned to watch her as she folded and unfolded her palm. He reached a hand out to help her up, his eyes focusing on the blood drip, drip, dripping.
She wiped the wound on her trousers, and took his offered hand with her opposite one. “I’m good.” She seemed agitated, nervous. “Do you feel like something’s not right?”
When she said it out loud, just for a second, his heart rate raised. He had convinced himself through his inner dialogue that he was just being overly cautious, but as she said it, he realised that she was right. If there was one thing Steve had learned, a true philosophy of his, it was that one Avenger’s intuition can be wrong. But two Avenger’s instincts are always correct. The unique blend of pattern recognition and situational awareness made the Avengers the closest thing on earth to fortune tellers. Or, so he believed.
“I agree. Let’s hunker down for a minute.” They settled in some of the brush, making themselves as invisible as possible. She was thankful to have a rest, she couldn’t lie. The tossing and turning all night, and every night for weeks, had truly taken its toll.
“Do you think it's bad intel, or a set-up?” She asked, her heart beginning to race at the sight of Steve becoming more and more stressed. She realised that the forest was absolutely silent. No wind, no birds, nothing. She hated it.
He took a second to respond, “I’m not sure. I don’t think we should keep going.”
“What? Then we’ve come all this way for nothing?” 
“I would rather us have come for nothing than die for nothing.” He spoke, trying desperately to manage his tone. How did this girl have such a way of getting under his skin?
She scowled. “Aye, aye, Captain.” A sarcastic salute followed.
With a futile deep breath, he snapped. He rolled his head in disbelief, incredulous that she would choose now to be obstinate. “Are you serious, (y/l/n)? You want to walk straight into something we have no idea about?” He gesticulated, hands flying wildly through the air. 
Both of them were too annoyed to realise that they were on a recon mission while quite loudly arguing in a forest. The Captain, blood boiling, didn’t hear the snap of a distant twig.
“I didn’t even say anything, Rogers! Don’t pretend like you care about my opinion anyway.” She scoffed. “Let’s just fucking go back.” She grabbed her pack, hauling it onto her back, standing from their spot in the brush.
“Shit!” She exclaimed as a bullet past her ear by less than an inch, the sound startling her down. The Captain instantaneously jumped over her, pulling her into him and covering them both with the shield. 
For the record, he smelt like cedarwood and rosemary.
“Came from the East.” He smouldered into the distance. If she hadn’t been so focused, she would have scoffed. He turned to her, his mouth mere centimetres from her ear, his warm whispers tickling her neck. “Are you hurt?”
She shook her head, no. Aside from the goosebumps, she had luckily been missed. The eye contact he made had something behind it… something she didn’t recognise. Something she had never noticed before.
The moment was shattered by more gunfire.
So, they did the avenging thing. He covered her, she shot as much as she could. Bullets sprayed in every direction, missing them both by the narrowest margins possible. They battled on and on, seemingly endless waves of agents appearing as soon as they thought they were almost through with it.
That’s when she saw it. The bullet heading straight for him. 
“Steve!” She screamed. She didn’t know why she called him by his first name. They weren’t friends. Hell, soon, they wouldn’t even be colleagues. 
He snapped to attention, spinning quickly to ricochet the bullet off of his shield. The bullet was so close to hitting him, he realised she had potentially just saved him from dying in the snow, 5,000 miles from home.
He looked to her to thank her and it all happened in slow motion. She screamed, a shrill, ear-splitting scream that turned his stomach. “No!” He shouted, still fighting through the hordes, sprinting to where the snow turned maroon.
His thrown shield thudded through the undergrowth, distant shouts of soldiers nearly split in half by the metallic disc. He grabbed the gun that had fallen from her hands, unleashing the last of its bullets on those who still dared to try him.
And the forest fell silent.
“(Y/n)!” He looked at her, her usually rosy face growing greater pallor by the second, her chest moving ever-so-slightly, and with growing effort. The black stain on her suit grew larger, and larger, and larger. Any and all medical training he had escaped him, as he realised that now, this moment, was where his regrets were fated to culminate. This was his punishment, his comeuppance.
He didn’t hate her. As he watched this hollow form of her, he realised he would give his own life to bring her back. He would bargain with anything and everything he could for this to be a nightmare that he would wake up from. He would fight with everything he had left to give to her.
Grabbing his pack from behind him, he tipped out its entire contents. 
God, what had he learned on those courses? What was going to kill her first?
“(Y/n), if you can hear me, this is going to hurt. I don’t… I don’t have anything to stop the pain. You’re bleeding out.” He spoke into the void, using scissors to remove her outer layer, exposing the wound. He noticed the blood slowly trickle from her mouth and nose, only worsening his anxiety.
It was worse than he thought, in fact, too deep for him to even suture… He used an antiseptic wipe to clean the area, before packing it with cotton swabs. He swore to himself. They had left the quinjet so far away, and he didn’t know if she would make it all the way back to the compound. 
He had to get her out of here. It was cold, and wet, and there could be even more enemy agents on their way there, right now.
“God, you’re going to have to hold on for just a little while longer, (y/l/n).” He whispered to her, picking her up bridal-style and running for the jet.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The other avengers weren’t expecting them to be back for a couple of days, so when Sam ran into the room with news that the quinjet was on the way back, they were pleasantly surprised. Each had finished their missions or meetings early it seemed. Which meant that just maybe they would be able to have some time as a team. Something they were in dire need of.
Tony smiled at his friends, but for a change wasn’t chatting. He sipped his coffee, and smoothed his hand over the handwritten note in his pocket. The note that he thought would never come.
Steve's voice over the intercom. “Mayday, mayday. Eagle to Alpha Base Control, we have a critical medical incident on board. Ready the medbay for severe blood loss and potential hypothermia. Wunderkind is compromised. Wheels down in 10.”
A panicked hush fell over the group.
“Okay, code red.” Sam jumped into the procedures they had all been trained on. “Bruce and I will go down to the hangar and help out. The rest of you stay here and we’ll keep you updated.” The four named avengers immediately ran to their stations, as the others tried to busy themselves doing other tasks that could be useful. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The quinjet came into land at a near-dangerous speed. Bruce and Sam burst open the door as the back door of the jet opened and Cap ran out with a limp (y/n) in his arms, jumping over the ramp before it had even reached the ground.
“What happened?” Sam shouted, running in front of the Captain up the stairs to the nearest Medbay, making sure the way was clear. FRIDAY has thankfully opened all doors in advance.  
“Gunshot wound to the chest, severe haemorrhage. I’ve managed to pack it but not stalled the bleeding nearly enough, she needs help now.”
“Have you got vitals?” Bruce ran along, slightly behind them, not quite as fit. 
“She’s still breathing on her own, weakly. Low pulse. Unconscious since the event.” 
As they reached the medical room and Steve laid her down on the surgical table, it hit all of them how severe the situation was.
“Oh my god.” Whispered Sam, as he saw not only the extent of her wounds, but the volume of blood that covered every inch of the Captain. The colour of skin on his hands could not be seen from the crimson staining covering every inch of them, and his once-blue suit looked more like an inky black, even under the fluorescent lighting of the medical ward. 
More than that, the expression on Steve’s face was something he could only recall seeing on him once. When they discovered that Bucky was alive. He was shell-shocked.
“You guys need to clear the room.” Commanded Dr. Cho, scrubbed in and ready to operate. “We’ll keep you updated.”
“We trust you, Doctor.” Bruce spoke, as he realised the others weren’t going to. Both men grabbed Steve’s shoulder, gently directing him back through the double doors. Steve couldn’t tear his eyes away, as Dr. Cho made demands to the other members of her team, beginning surgery immediately.
“Come on, bud. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Sam was trying not to treat him like a ticking time bomb. But he knew that the Captain was going to snap out of his stupor eventually, and the consequences could be disastrous.
Steve’s eyes didn’t move from her lifeless body on that cold, steel table until they were well past the doors. When Sam tried to lead him out of the medical wing in general, his feet stopped just short of the door.
“I can’t, I - I have to wait.” He turned back around. He looked to Sam, almost asking permission. “I can’t leave her.”
It wasn’t lost on Sam that Steve had to have been keeping her alive by himself for at least six hours, over the Atlantic. That’s not only an impressive feat, but a damn near miracle. It was beyond dedication, it was lunacy. And something like that will make a pretty strong bond between people.
There was something deeper at play here. And as the pieces started to click into place, he wondered how he had never seen it before. The reason Cap was so hard on (y/n), and had been since the beginning.
“Okay, okay.” He guided him to a seat, as an unspoken compromise. “Bruce, could you grab a wet towel?” He spoke softly.
Banner nodded, and wandered off to find ways to help Steve be a little more comfortable. When Bruce returned, Sam gently took his bloody friend’s hands and wiped away the crusted blood that stained them.
Cap watched the red as it left his hands. He couldn’t help the sinking feeling that with every smear of dark brown on the towel, she was slipping away. 
Sam’s adrenaline could only abide the silence for so long. “Cap, you gotta talk to me. Are you hurt?”
“She saved me, that’s how she got shot.” He didn’t make eye contact, instead staring towards the doors, behind which she lay on death’s door.
“It’s not your fault.” Steve didn’t have to say anything for Sam to know that’s what’s running through his mind. A hazard of being an Avenger – the unending and relentless guilt.
“It is my fault. She was watching my back, but I wasn’t watching hers. And I had the damn audacity to call her a liability.” He scoffed, bitterly. 
“It’s nobody’s fault, Steve. These things happen, it’s part of the job. She’s going to pull through.” Sam hadn’t even considered the fact that the last proper interaction they had had, was rather… vitriolic in nature. He didn’t dare ask if anything else had happened on the mission. Not for now, at least.
Steve felt like he was being crushed by his own ribs, like his own body was depriving him of oxygen he didn’t deserve. He didn’t dare move, didn’t dare think, except to chastise and punish himself for what he had done.
And not once did he take his eyes off those doors.
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part two: promises we intend to keep
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bodyswap005 · 1 day ago
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"Borrowed Bodies, Reunited Lives".
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Dylan’s Perspective:
I always thought a cruise vacation would be perfect: the sun, the sea, and the chance to disconnect from everything. But when your only travel companions are your parents, who can barely spend a minute together without arguing, the idea loses its charm. So, when my parents announced we’d be spending the holidays sailing to Miami, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and frustration.
They are Ethan and Susan, the perfect representation of a marriage that has lost its way. They argue about everything, from which channel to watch on TV to how to park the car. They never agree, and being in the middle of their endless arguments is a place I’d rather not be. That’s why the idea of spending weeks locked on a ship with them seemed more like a punishment than a break.
If only I could bring Alex and Joshua, my best friends from the gym, things would be different. They’re like my older brothers, always with advice, jokes, and that camaraderie that only forms between those who share long training sessions and complaints about the same exercise machines. Alex is more reserved, but he has a sarcastic sense of humor that always makes me smile, while Joshua is the extrovert of the group, capable of lighting up any room with his energy.
Of course, bringing them along was an impossible dream. My parents would never allow it, and they certainly couldn’t afford it. But sometimes, even the most unlikely things have a strange way of coming true.
One afternoon, as I was walking back from the gym, I saw an elderly woman trying to lift a heavy bag off the sidewalk. I stopped to help her; I didn’t think much of it, it just seemed like the right thing to do. When the woman thanked me, she looked at me with eyes that seemed to pierce through me and said something strange:
—Make a wish, young man. A real one.
I didn’t think much of it. I thought it was some kind of game or joke, but in the end, I said the first thing that came to mind:
—I wish my friends could come with me on the cruise.
The old woman smiled, murmured something I didn’t understand, and walked away. I didn’t dwell on it, although that night I couldn’t help but think about her words.
The day of departure arrived, and as expected, nothing extraordinary happened. Alex and Joshua weren’t there. Everything was the same: my parents arguing, me wishing I wasn’t there. Until, suddenly, things started to get strange.
As the ship set sail, I noticed my parents weren’t just arguing, their voices sounded completely out of place. My dad let out a rude “What the hell am I doing here?”, while my mom muttered a “No way, dude!”. They both looked at me with a mix of confusion and bewilderment.
Then my phone rang. It was Alex. Or at least, that’s what the screen said. I answered, and what I heard on the other end froze me. It was my dad. Or rather, his voice, saying something completely absurd:
—Dylan, it’s me! I’m your dad.
And just like that, my cruise adventure, which already promised to be uncomfortable, took a turn I never could have imagined, even in my worst nightmares.
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Ethan and Susan Perspective:
Ethan woke up startled in a place he didn’t recognize. The room was small, with dull-colored walls, barely lit by a beam of sunlight filtering through the curtains. He brought a hand to his face and felt something strange: his beard was gone.
When he looked down, the shock was even greater. This wasn’t his body. His torso was strong, defined, and his hands, large and youthful, weren’t the ones he remembered.
—What the hell is going on?!—he shouted, jumping up.
On the other side of the room, someone else moved. Susan, or at least what should have been Susan, slowly sat up from a single bed. But instead of her slender figure, it was the body of a muscular young man with messy hair and a bewildered expression.
—What happened to me?—Susan asked, touching her face with hands larger than she expected. Then she looked at the mirror in front of her, and a scream escaped her mouth—It can’t be!
Ethan staggered slightly as he approached, trying to control his movements. He looked at both their reflections and confirmed the impossible: he was in Joshua’s body, one of Dylan’s friends, and Susan was in Alex’s.
—This has to be a nightmare…—Ethan said, running a hand through his short hair.
—This isn’t real!—Susan screamed, touching her arms and chest, feeling the muscles now belonging to her. Her gaze was filled with horror—This can’t be real!
At that moment, Susan’s phone—or rather Alex’s, which was in the pocket of her pants—began to ring. They both looked at each other, uncertain. Ethan took the phone and answered.
—Hello?
On the other end of the line, Dylan answered immediately, his tone filled with panic:
—Dad… it’s me.
Ethan squinted.
—Dylan? What’s going on?
—Dad, mom…—Dylan stammered, trying to explain while listening to Alex (now in Ethan’s body) argue with someone in the background—I think… I think you switched bodies with Alex and Joshua.
Susan, who had been listening from across the room, quickly approached.
—What did you do, Dylan?—she asked with Alex’s deep voice, snatching the phone from Ethan—What did you do?!
—I… I didn’t know this was going to happen—Dylan defended himself, his voice full of guilt—I helped an old woman, and she told me she’d grant me a wish. I just asked for Alex and Joshua to come on the cruise with me.
Ethan huffed, snatching the phone back.
—An old woman?! What kind of joke is this?
—It’s not a joke, dad—Dylan replied—This is real, but… I don’t know how to fix it.
—Of course you don’t!—Susan growled from the back, crossing her arms—We’re stuck in the bodies of two guys we barely know!
—Please, just calm down. We need to think…—Dylan tried to say, but his voice sounded weak, even to himself.
—Calm down?—Susan screamed—We lost our cruise, our lives, everything!
Ethan sighed deeply, trying to remain calm, even though his hands were trembling.
—Listen, Dylan. For now, we’ll look for that old woman, if she even exists. You stay on the cruise and try to keep those two idiots under control.
Dylan swallowed hard.
—Got it.
Ethan hung up and placed the phone on the bed, his expression hardened.
—This can’t be permanent, right?—Susan asked quietly, though she knew no one had the answer.
Ethan didn’t respond right away. Instead, he looked at his new arms, so strong that it almost seemed like a joke.
—While we figure out how to reverse this… I think we should make the most of this vacation.
Susan glared at him.
—Make the most of it? Ethan, we’re in the bodies of strangers!
—I know, but we can’t just sit around feeling sorry for ourselves—he said, though a nervous smile crossed his face as he flexed his arms—I never had muscles like this…
Susan ran a hand over her face, frustrated.
—Maybe this is a sign—she murmured, more to herself than to him—A lesson for us.
Ethan raised an eyebrow.
—A lesson?
—To solve our problems… as a couple.
Ethan let out a snort but didn’t argue. Though they both knew that the only thing they could agree on was finding that old woman and returning to their lives as quickly as possible.
In the city, Ethan and Susan walked down a narrow alley, following the coordinates Dylan had provided over the phone. However, the place was empty, with no trace of the gypsy old woman who had set everything in motion.
—This can’t be, she doesn’t even exist!—Susan exclaimed, crossing her arms and shooting a reproachful glance at Ethan—This is your fault.
Ethan raised an eyebrow, clearly tired of his wife’s constant accusations.
—My fault? Please! Dylan was the one who made the wish, and we’re the ones stuck in this mess with his little friends.
Susan snorted, turning around to head back to the apartment they were now sharing.
Once they arrived, they both collapsed on the sofa. Susan sighed with frustration, while Ethan stood up to inspect the small living room.
—This is a disaster—Susan said, bringing her hands to her face—I just want my normal life back.
—I wouldn’t complain too much, you know?—Ethan responded with a smile, taking off his shirt in front of the apartment mirror. He admired his defined and sculpted muscles, something he hadn’t seen in years—Look at this! When was the last time I looked like this?
—For the love of God, Ethan! Put your shirt on. This is ridiculous—Susan scolded, though her gaze briefly drifted to her husband, now in Joshua’s body.
—Ridiculous?—Ethan chuckled as he flexed his arms in front of the mirror—This is like turning back time.
Fed up with his attitude, Susan jumped up and, in a burst of frustration, decided to check for herself how she looked now. She stood in front of the mirror and, with some curiosity, slid her hands down the muscular arms of Alex’s body.
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—This… this is weird—Susan admitted quietly, staring at her reflection. Her new body was strong and bulky, something she never imagined experiencing—I’ve never felt like this in my life.
—Weird?—Ethan said, approaching her with a teasing smile—Don’t tell me you’re not enjoying it a little.
Susan rolled her eyes and stepped away from the mirror.
—I don’t care how I look now. What I want is to get my life back, not walk around showing off like you.
Ethan raised his hands in a peace gesture, although he still had a satisfied expression.
—Alright, alright. But, while we find the old woman, we could make the most of it… How about we go out for dinner?
—Dinner?—Susan repeated, raising an eyebrow.
—Yes, of course. But first, I think we should go to the gym. Isn’t that what Alex and Joshua would do? Besides, I’m sure these bodies need exercise to stay like this.
Reluctantly, Susan agreed. After all, there wasn’t much else to do.
At the gym, they faced the demanding routines of Alex and Joshua. Ethan, used to a much more sedentary lifestyle, tried to keep up with the weights, while Susan, clearly annoyed, followed the instructions she found on Alex’s phone.
—This is crazy—Susan murmured, wiping the sweat from her forehead as she watched Ethan drinking an energy shake—How do they do this every day?
—It’s a matter of habit—Ethan replied, smiling as he approached a treadmill.
Suddenly, a young man approached them. He was wearing tight athletic gear and had a relaxed attitude.
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—Alex? Joshua?—Ethan asked with a smile, looking them up and down.
Sergio and Susan exchanged quick glances. They had no idea who he was, but decided to play along.
—Yes, it's us—Ethan replied, trying to sound nonchalant.
The young man nodded, as if he already knew them well.
—Great. Hey, I’m hosting a party tonight. You guys should come. It’ll be at my place, nothing formal, just friends.
—Party?—Susan repeated, surprised.
—Yeah, sure. It’ll be fun—the young man responded before giving them more details and walking away with a smile.
When the young man disappeared from sight, Ethan turned to Susan with enthusiasm.
—This is perfect.
—Perfect?—Susan said, crossing her arms—Are you suggesting we go?
—Of course. When was the last time we went to a party with young people? All we do is attend boring adult gatherings. This could be an opportunity to experience something new.
Susan looked at him incredulously, but deep down, something in his words sparked her curiosity.
—Suppose I agree… But no acting like an idiot, Ethan.
—Deal!—he replied with a triumphant smile.
Meanwhile, Susan couldn’t help but wonder if this experience might be more than just a bad nightmare… Maybe, even, an opportunity to rediscover something lost in their relationship.
The night came, and Ethan and Susan, more nervous than excited, tried to pick the best clothes they could find in Alex and Joshua’s wardrobes. Ethan chose some tight dark jeans and a white shirt that was a little too snug, while Susan, uncomfortable, put on a sleeveless shirt and shorts that left little to the imagination.
—This is ridiculous—Susan said, adjusting her clothes in front of the mirror—Do young people really dress like this?
—Relax—Ethan replied, straightening his shirt collar—We’re doing this to fit in, remember?
With little money in their pockets, they decided to stop for a coffee before heading to the party. Sitting at a small table by the window, the atmosphere was surprisingly calm. For the first time in years, they weren’t arguing.
—This is… strange—Susan commented, stirring her coffee.
—What’s strange?—Ethan asked, looking out the window.
—Us. Here, not fighting. As if… as if we were another couple.
Ethan smiled faintly.
—Maybe this change has something good after all.
Before Susan could respond, Ethan’s phone started ringing. It was Dylan.
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—How’s everything going over there?—Ethan asked as Susan moved closer to listen.
—Fine... I think. Alex and Joshua are keeping it together, although it’s total chaos.—Dylan sighed on the other end of the line—Did you find the old woman?
—No—Susan responded with frustration—We followed the coordinates, but there was no sign of her.
—Well, at least you tried.
Ethan cleared his throat.
—By the way, we’re going to a party tonight.
—What?—Dylan exclaimed—What party? Whose?
—A guy from the gym invited us. We don’t know him, but he seemed insistent.—Ethan paused—Dylan, do you know who he is?
—No. Maybe he’s new in town or at the gym. Be careful.
They hung up shortly after, and Ethan and Susan finished their coffees before heading to the party.
The place was full of energy. Colorful lights blinked while music echoed in every corner. People were laughing, dancing, and chatting in small groups. Ethan and Susan looked at each other nervously before entering, trying to appear relaxed.
—Remember, act like we know them—Ethan whispered.
Inside, they recognized several people from the gym. Probably Alex and Joshua's friends. Susan tried to chat with a few people, but couldn’t fully connect, while Ethan helped himself to a drink at the table.
It was then that the guy who had invited them appeared. He was tall, with dark brown hair and a charismatic smile.
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—Alex, Joshua, I’m glad you came—the young man said, shaking their hands—I’m Elijah, by the way.
—Nice to meet you, Elijah—Susan replied, trying to sound casual.
Elijah smiled in a peculiar way, as if he knew something more.
—So, how are you adjusting to... the new?—he asked with a tone that seemed both innocent and mocking.
Ethan felt something stir inside him. That phrase had been too specific.
—What do you mean?—Ethan asked, feigning disinterest.
Elijah shrugged, his smile barely visible.
—Nothing, just a way of saying. Enjoy the party.
As Elijah walked away, Ethan was left thinking. How could he know something? The idea that he might be connected to the old woman crossed his mind, but he quickly dismissed it. However, something didn’t add up.
He decided to find Susan to talk about it, but at that moment, someone else approached him.
—Hey, Alex, wanna grab a drink?—a young man asked, calling Susan, or rather, Alex’s body.
Susan, unsuspecting, accepted the invitation and walked away, leaving Ethan alone.
Ethan sat at one of the tables, reflecting on what had just happened. He looked around, observing the other guests, but couldn’t get Elijah’s words out of his mind.
—So, how are you adjusting to... the new?
Lost in his thoughts, he barely noticed when Susan came back. But what really snapped him out of his reverie was seeing her without a shirt, wearing a swimsuit she had found in the apartment.
—What the hell are you doing?—Sergio asked, alarmed.
Susan shrugged.
—Apparently, this is normal here. Besides, who cares? No one knows who we really are.
Ethan put a hand to his face, stifling a sigh. This night was going to be longer than he expected.
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Susan, still animated by the festive atmosphere and clearly affected by the drinks, approached Ethan with a radiant smile.
—There’s a pool!—she said excitedly—I need a swim, and you do too.
—Susan, I think you've had enough to drink—Ethan responded cautiously, noticing the peculiar gleam in his wife’s eyes.
—Oh, come on! Don’t be boring.—Without waiting for a response, she grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the pool.
Ethan, surprised by the gesture, felt a strange warmth rise to his face. It was something so simple, but it had been so long since he felt that spontaneous connection with Susan. Was he blushing?
When they reached the pool, the atmosphere was completely different: laughter, softer music, and a group of young people enjoying the water under the colorful lights. Susan, without a second thought, jumped into the water, while Sergio stood at the edge, watching her.
—Ethan, come on!—she shouted, splashing him playfully.
He sighed, finally giving in, and stepped into the water. However, just a few minutes later, Susan moved away again, leaving him alone.
Ethan got out of the pool, drying himself off while looking for Susan in the crowd. That’s when he noticed Elijah, standing near a table, looking at him with a smile that seemed more calculated than friendly.
—Hey, Joshua…—Elijah said, walking toward him—Sorry for what I said earlier, about “adjusting to the new.”
—No problem—Ethan replied, though his tone made it clear he didn’t believe the apology—Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm looking for someone.
But Elijah placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.
—Wait, let me explain why I said that.
With a mix of suspicion and curiosity, Ethan decided to follow him. Elijah led him to a room downstairs and closed the door behind them.
—So, what’s this about?—Ethan asked, crossing his arms.
Elijah didn’t answer right away. Instead, he got closer, his eyes locked on Ethan’s.
—You know, Joshua... there’s something about you tonight. Something different.
Before Ethan could react, Elijah surprised him by leaning in to kiss him. Elijah’s lips met Ethan’s, and for a moment, Etnan was frozen. He had never kissed a man, nor had he ever imagined being in this situation. Why wasn’t he pulling away?
Finally, he reacted and pulled back abruptly, his heart pounding.
—What the hell are you doing?—he said, breathless, as he stepped back toward the door.
Elijah showed no remorse, just a mysterious smile.
—Maybe… Joshua isn’t as different as you think.
Without responding, Ethan hurriedly left the room, determined to find Susan.
When he finally found her, what he saw left him stunned. Susan, in Alex’s body, was standing close to a young woman, talking in a way that was far too familiar. The girl was laughing while Susan touched her arm, as if she were flirting.
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Ethan furrowed his brow as he watched them both head upstairs.
—Susan! —he called, rushing after them.
Susan stopped, turning to face him with an annoyed look.
—What now?
—What are you doing? —Ethan demanded, trying to stay calm—. This is not the time to pretend to be someone else.
—Oh, please, Ethan —Susan replied, crossing her arms—. We're stuck in this absurd situation, what does it matter?
—It matters because we need to take care of each other and stick together. The best thing is that we leave now.
Susan glared at him, shaking her head.
—Do you always have to ruin everything? For once in my life, I just want to have fun.
Before Ethan could respond, Susan turned around and left with the girl.
Frustrated and angry, Ethan decided he’d had enough. He returned to the changing room, grabbed his clothes, and left the party without looking back.
Back at the apartment, Ethan locked himself in the small room he was now occupying, throwing himself onto the bed with a sigh of exhaustion. He waited, phone in hand, for a call or message from Susan, but nothing came.
As he tried to calm himself, his mind drifted back to the kiss from Elijah.
Why didn’t I pull away sooner? he thought, bringing a hand to his lips. He’d never kissed a man before, but there was something about that moment… something that unsettled him.
—I’m not gay… —he murmured, as if trying to convince himself.
Still, he couldn’t ignore what he had felt. Was Joshua gay? The idea troubled him, but it also stirred a strange curiosity.
With conflicting thoughts and emotions, he closed his eyes, and eventually, exhaustion overtook him.
The sound of the alarm clock vibrated softly, and Ethan opened his eyes, hoping everything had returned to normal. But it hadn’t. He was still in Joshua’s body. He glanced at the clock: 11:15 a.m.
He got up sluggishly, running his hands over his face and walking toward the bathroom to do his morning routine. As he washed his hands, an unmistakable smell hit his nose: food. Who was cooking?
When he reached the kitchen, he found Susan, still in Alex’s body, preparing what looked like a balanced breakfast: eggs, avocado, oatmeal, and a protein shake.
—Good morning, “J-Machine”! —Susan said with a smile, using a nickname that seemed to belong to Alex for Joshua.
Ethan frowned at the use of the nickname but decided to ignore it.
—Good morning… —he replied as he sat down at the small kitchen table—. Do you feel alright after last night?
Susan shrugged.
—Yeah, nothing a shower and coffee can’t fix.
—Well, I wanted to talk about what happened at the party…
—About what? —Susan asked, not looking at him as she served a plate.
—About what you did —Ethan insisted—. You drank too much, flirted with a girl, and then left with her. What the hell were you thinking?
Susan briefly looked at him, then returned her attention to her phone, typing messages and smiling as though she wasn’t in the middle of a serious conversation.
—Yeah, yeah… I’m sorry. Do you want avocado or double oatmeal? —Susan said indifferently.
—Susan, listen to me! —Ethan exclaimed, tapping the table gently to get her attention.
Finally, she looked up, slightly irritated.
—What? What did I do wrong now?
—Everything! —Ethan replied with frustration—. You’ve been acting like this is all a game. Not just last night, but always. Even when we were in our original bodies.
Susan frowned, setting her phone aside.
—What do you mean?
—I mean you and I have been distant for years —Ethan confessed, his tone more serious—. But last night, while I was trying to take care of you in that body, I felt something… something I haven’t felt in years. That connection we had when we were younger.
Susan looked at him in disbelief, then let out a sarcastic laugh.
—Connection? Or are you confusing things? Are you gay now?
—What? —Ethan asked, surprised by the question.
—Yeah, because all of this sounds weird. You’re telling me you felt “something” for me while I’m in Alex’s body. What’s going on, Ethan? Are you falling in love with your friend son?
Ethan opened his mouth to respond, but the words didn’t come immediately.
—It’s not that… —he murmured finally, averting his gaze—. It’s more complicated than that.
—More complicated? —Susan repeated, raising an eyebrow—. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I hope this isn’t about the kiss with Elijah or something like that.
Ethan suddenly stood up, pushing the chair aside.
—You know what? Forget it. I don’t know why I try to talk to you. You always avoid everything, even now that we’re not ourselves.
—Where are you going? —Susan shouted, raising her voice.
—Anywhere where I don’t have to deal with you —Ethan responded, leaving the kitchen and leaving Susan with an expression of confusion and anger.
As he walked toward his room, his thoughts swirled in his mind. Was Susan right? Was he confusing his emotions? Between Elijah’s kiss, Joshua’s body, and his accumulated frustration, nothing seemed to make sense.
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Days passed in which Ethan and Susan barely spoke to each other. The resentment from breakfast still lingered, and each one had opted to focus on their own routines. Susan, in Alex's young and athletic body, had become the life of the gym; always surrounded by people, she generated glances and conversations wherever she went. Meanwhile, Ethan preferred to isolate himself in the apartment, playing video games and reflecting on what had happened at that party.
The image of Elijah continued to haunt his mind, especially the kiss they shared. Ethan felt confused, as if that experience had awakened something in him, something he still couldn't fully understand.
On the fifth day, finally, something changed. Tired of the awkward silence, Susan approached Ethan in the living room while he was playing.
—Can we talk? —she asked, in a softer tone than usual.
Ethan paused the game and looked at her, hesitating for a moment.
—I suppose so.
Susan sat next to him, settling into the couch.
—I want to apologize. Not just for what happened at the party, but… for everything. For how things have been between us, even before this strange exchange.
Ethan watched her, surprised by her sincerity.
—I’ve messed up too. I’ve been too wrapped up in myself… and, well, you saw what happened that night. I shouldn’t have scolded you like that.
—No, you were right —Susan admitted—. I’ve always been the type to avoid things instead of facing them. But after all this… I think it’s time to change, for Dylan. Although now, technically, he’s our best friend.
They both chuckled lightly, easing some of the tension.
—For Dylan —Ethan said, raising his fist.
—For Dylan —Susan repeated, bumping her fist against Ethan's.
For a moment, silence settled again, but this time it wasn’t uncomfortable. There was something in the air, a connection they both felt but didn’t know how to express. Susan looked at him with a mix of curiosity and nervousness.
—Can I ask you something? —she said.
—Sure.
—What happened with Elijah?
Ethan sighed and looked away.
—It was strange. I don’t know why he did it… but when he kissed me, I didn’t hate it.
Susan looked at him intently, processing his words.
—You didn’t hate it?
—No. In fact, I think… I liked it.
The atmosphere grew more intimate. Susan placed her hand on Ethan's, and he looked directly at her for the first time in days.
—Maybe all of this is a sign —Susan whispered—. A way to show us that we don’t have to cling to who we were before.
Ethan nodded, and before he could respond, Susan leaned in toward him. It was a soft kiss, filled with a mix of nostalgia, curiosity, and something new that neither of them had ever felt before.
What started as a kiss soon turned into something more. Their bodies, although not their original ones, seemed to fit in a way they had never imagined. They surrendered to the moment, leaving behind the doubts and conflicts that had separated them for so long.
Days later...
Life went on. They hadn’t returned to their original bodies, but it no longer seemed to matter. Ethan and Susan had decided to stop searching for the old woman and, instead, embrace this new opportunity to get to know each other from a completely different perspective.
Dylan, still on the cruise, was completely unaware of what had happened between them, but he would surely find out when he returned. In the meantime, Susan and Ethan found a new routine, learning to live with their new realities and with a relationship that, although unexpected, had given them a new perspective on what it meant to be partners, friends, and companions in this surreal experience that they now called life.
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The end
231 notes · View notes
heavyhitterheaux · 2 days ago
Text
Santa Tell Me
See Me Through You Series
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Synopsis: It's your first time celebrating Christmas with Joe as a couple as your first semester at LSU comes to an end. The two of you celebrate in your own little way seeing as Joe is going back home while you are headed to New Orleans. However, you confide in your best friend about your hesitations about getting into another relationship so quickly and hoping that what feels like a fairy tale isn't too good to be true
Pairing: Boyfriend!Joe Burrow x Girlfriend!Reader
Series Masterlist
Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere
The timer went off once again letting you know that all of the cookies were now officially done baking. As you were taking them out of the oven and placing them on the cooling rack, Erin attempted to grab one to eat it when you quickly slapped her hand away resulting in her letting out a yelp followed by her glaring at you.
“Ow!”
“Those are specifically for Joey so we can decorate them once he gets here. I literally just made you an entire cheesecake.”
“But I want a cookie, too!” Erin exclaimed, but you weren't budging.
“No and he should be here soon.”
As you sat at the table in your small kitchen, Erin sat across from you and had begun eating her cheesecake when you suddenly asked her a question which caught her off guard.
“Erin, what if me and Joe break up? And that cheesecake was not meant for it to be eaten in one sitting.” You casually asked as you unlocked your phone to play one of the many games that you had installed.
“Huh? What in the world are you even talking about? And I'll just ask for another one.” She asked as she put her fork down to look at you.
“What if we break up and we don't work out? I literally just hopped from one relationship to another and…”
“Stop. Just stop. I have on my Christmas sweater and I am eating my Christmas treats you made me and we are listening to Justin Bieber's Under the Mistletoe and you are fucking the vibe up.”
“But…”
“No, we are not doing this. You two haven't been together very long, but Joe literally worships the ground you walk on. The way he even looks at you is insane. That boy is IN LOVE.” Erin said as she now opened the freezer to take out the ice cream you thought you were discreetly hiding from her, but it looks as though you efforts had failed.
“But what if it's too good to be true? Sometimes It doesn't even feel real.”
“You literally have no idea of what happiness looks like even if it hits you in the face. He has been after you basically the entire semester and now that he finally has you and you have him, you think that the two of you are going to end up breaking up? Make it make sense, babe.”
“Everything started out too good to be true with Trevor and look what happened with that.”
“Uh no, boo. Trevor had been an asshole from the beginning, it just took you forever and a day to notice. Everyone else saw it but you. You’ve been treated like shit for so long that your ass is literally blinded to how good you actually have it. I mean Joe hit me up a few weeks ago to help him pick out your Christmas gift or gifts I should say.”
“Wait, he did what?”
“Oops. I wasn’t supposed to say anything so let’s just pretend I didn’t. But they're really pretty and I know that you’re going to like it.”
“I just… he’s really important to me and I just want this to work out between us.”
“And it will. I literally started planning the wedding the day you two met because I saw the way you lit up when you talked about him. It’s going to work out and I will be the first person to say ‘I told you so’ when you are walking down the aisle.”
“I’m holding you to that seeing as it’s still pretty early to be singing about wedding bells.”
“But for now, it’s December, we almost made it through our first semester as college students, you have a very cute boyfriend who wants to spend every waking moment of the day with you so you need to make the most of it.”
“You’re right, I do need to make the most of it seeing as it’ll be a few weeks where we won’t see each other since he’s going back home.”
“And his birthday is coming up too. So, my vote is to have Christmas early with the two of you. Hopefully by doing this you won’t miss him so much on the actual day since the two of you kind of already celebrated in your own way.”
“I mean, I did get us matching Christmas pajamas to decorate our cookies, drink hot chocolate, and watch cheesy Hallmark movies.”
“See? Perfect. And I know that he is going to love every minute of it. But for now, I am going to go study for one of my many finals and hope and pray that the words on the pages in the textbooks somehow transfer themselves to my brain. Let me know how everything goes.” Erin told you as she wrapped up her cheesecake and placed it in a plastic bag hoping none of the filling would get on the seats in her car.
“Me saying ‘I told you so’ is going to hit so hard in a few years. But….” She was cut off mid-sentence as there was a knock on the door.
“And look at that, there he is. Let's go see your future husband.”
You couldn't help but to laugh and shake your head at Erin as she was gathering all of her things, while you went to go and answer the door. Once you did, you were met with your boyfriend carrying a shitload of different bags and him leaning down to kiss you.
“Okay, you two! Spare my eyes, I'm leaving so Joe can turn you every way but loose without me having to see it.”
“Bye, Erin.” Was all you said as she continued to smile at the both of you.
“Hi Joe, Bye Joe.” She told him as he fully walked into your apartment as she was headed out the door.
“Bye Erin.”
Once the two of you were by yourselves, you immediately started questioning Joe about the many bags he brought.
“Uh, babe? Are you moving in and didn't tell me yet?” You asked and he let out a laugh before starting to open some of them and pull out their contents.
“I just bought a bunch of different things we could do. It's almost finals week and I wanted to spend as much time with you as possible. And you have literally been playing this album since the day after Halloween.”
“Aww, I love it. Okay so tell me what you bought. And what about it!?” You asked as he had set everything down and motioned for you to sit down on the couch so he could show you.
“So my chess set. Ever since I taught you how to play, you said that you were going to try and beat me before the semester was over and never mind that I even said anything. Low key convinced that you're going to break up with me and get with Justin.”
“Very true but athletes are my thing, not singers.”
“My telescope since you love learning about space as much as I do. And I guess that means I'm safe?”
“I am loving this so far and yes, babe. You're safe.” You told him as you placed the chess set on the table.
“Madden. Since I know if you were able to be on the field with us, you would be. But I mean I can't sing all that well, but if you want me to serenade you just say the word.”
“Good point and seriously?” You replied while laughing.
“And I think that's it for now. I could only carry so much. But you'll be the one hitting high notes with how good I'm making you feel.” He told you as he shrugged while you gave him a small smile while also shaking your head at him.
“It's absolutely perfect and I have something for you too. I'm ignoring that last part.”
“What is it? Before the night is over, I'm making it happen.” Joe said as you ran into your bedroom to find the bag that they were in before coming back out into the living room.
“Matching Christmas pajamas.”
“Oh, so we're that type of couple now?” Joe teased as you rolled your eyes.
“Yes, and this is literally going to happen starting from this year until forever.” You replied as Joe moved closer towards you and put his finger underneath your chin in order for you to be able to look up at him.
“Forever? I like the sound of that.” He quietly said while leaning down to kiss you.
“But for now, we also have cookies to decorate that I baked and hot chocolate to drink.”
“Let’s do it.”
The two of you got comfortable in your pajamas before starting to decorate the cookies and you were multitasking with making the hot chocolate at the same time.
Joe was concentrating hard when you decided to peek over and take a look at what he was doing.
“Joey, I thought you were making a Santa cookie?” You asked while a little bit confused on what you were actually looking at.
“I am! This looks like Santa! I just need to do his beard.”
“And his hat.” You added noticing that was missing also.
“Not everyone can be an amazing baker in their spare time like you.”
“Hmm, you're right, but it doesn't look bad. If I opened my own bakery, I might hire you. I do happen to be a woman of many talents. So, someone mentioned to me that you got my Christmas gift already?”
Joe stopped decorating his cookie to look at you with a blank stare.
“No. I'm not telling you what it is and I am never telling Erin anything else ever again.”
“But babe!”
“No. Final answer.” Joe replied as you rolled your eyes at him which then led to him pinching your cheek.
“Fix your face. I want it to be a surprise and I don't plan on spoiling it for you.”
“Well I got you a gift for your birthday as well as Christmas. It didn't feel right combining both of them together.”
“And unlike my girlfriend, I'm going to be patient and wait.”
“You mean to tell me that you aren't the least bit curious about what I got you?” You asked him and you could tell he was thinking about his answer before he said it.
“Nope.”
“Liar. I know that you definitely want to know. But I'll just say I know that both of them are something that you're really going to love.” You told him as you reached up to kiss him.
“As much as I love you?”
“No, but knowing you it might come close.” You told him as you were now putting the final touches on the hot chocolate you made for the two of you and handed him his mug.
“And like I said, I'll be patient unlike some other people.”
“I'm ignoring you. Anyway, break out the telescope since it's clear tonight and we'll be able to see something.”
Once Joe had gotten the telescope set up by the window, you were just finishing your hot chocolate and went to place your mug in the dishwasher before going back into the living room and seeing Joe with a bashful smile across his face.
“Why are you smiling at me like that?” You asked while wrapping your arms around him and Joe leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead before responding to you.
“I'm about to show you. Stand in front of me and look through it. Don't adjust anything.” He said as he slowly turned you around so that you would be facing it.
You did as you were told and noticed that it was focused on one single star.
“I see it, babe. What's so special about it?” You asked as you turned back to look at him and he simply handed you an envelope.
“It's the star that I got named after us.”
Your eyes went wide and a smile broke out on your face as you took out the contents of the envelope and it simply said Y/N and Joey's Star at the top.
Underneath was a map detailing where you would be able to find it.
“So no matter where we are, whether together or apart. We can be able to look at it at the same time. This isn't a part of your Christmas gifts by the way, I just wanted to do it since I figured you would like it.” He shyly told you as the smile became wider on your face. You didn't say anything, but simply wrapped your arms around him once again.
“This was… no… this is definitely the sweetest thing that anyone has ever done for me. I honestly wouldn't have even been upset if this did end up being my Christmas gift. I love it and I love you which you already knew, but I figured that I would tell you anyway.” You quietly told him as he leaned down to place several kisses on your lips.
“And I love you. Remember earlier how you mentioned that matching pajamas are going to be a thing for us forever?” Joe asked and you gave him a swift nod.
“Mm hmm, what about it?”
“This is also going to be something that we have forever. Any time we get in a disagreement or we're not seeing eye to eye with each other, we need to remember that we're in this together for the long run. And looking up at the star can remind us of that. I know we haven't been together for very long, but I want this with you and I've been saying from day one how I'm going to treat you how you deserve to be treated.” Joe confessed and the smile on your face couldn't help but to get bigger.
“I'm going to hold you to that Burrow.”
“How about you hold me to this too? Look up for me?”
As you looked up, you saw that Joe was holding a mistletoe above the both of you.
“Any excuse to get more kisses from me, huh?” You playfully asked him and was met with a smirk.
“I mean, I've been getting kisses from the moment I got here, but this is just a plus.” He told you as he leaned down and you reached up to meet him halfway.
“And there will be many more where that came from.”
“Santa definitely did his big one this year.”
“How so?”
“I get to spend it with someone who I know cares about me just as much as I care about them. That's literally all I asked for.”
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parkerslatte · 2 days ago
Text
The Purest Kind of Love || Part Two
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Azriel x Fem!Reader x Eris Vanserra
Word Count: 3.2k
Warnings: none
Summary: The morning after the bond snaps between Y/N and Eris, Eris goes to talk to Y/N but can’t seem to have a genuine conversation. Azriel works through his frustration.
The Purest Kind of Love Masterlist
A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist
PREVIOUS / NEXT
•••
The High Lord of Autumn paced outside of the large double doors into the room where the one who had turned his life upside down resided. The citrus scent he remembered from the previous night invaded his senses. It must have been nearly an hour since Eris left his own chambers early that morning to make the walk through the Forest House to where he knew the people of the Inner Circle were residing. 
Despite the five separate rooms each housing members of the Inner Circle, Eris somehow knew exactly which one Y/N resided in. It was the grandest one and previously Eris’s own bedroom when he was a child. The small burn mark on the door was still present from where he singed it out of anger when his powers were just developing. 
No matter how much Eris tried to distract himself, his palms sweat as he took one more shaky step towards the door. The citrus scent made his heartbeat increase as he slowly raised his fist and knocked on the door. It echoed through the empty corridor and Eris looked around, he didn’t want to be seen.
A faint reply croaked from the other side of the door. “Come in.”
Once his hand was on the handle, Eris pushed open the door. It creaked loudly and he internally groaned. When Eris fully stood inside of the room, the citrus scent mixed with a cedar and…salt. The door closed behind Eris as his eyes fixated on Y/N.
“Oh,” she said with a hint of disappointment. “I thought you would be someone else.”
From the scent alone, Eris guessed who she hoped it might have been. He didn’t say anything. 
The room fell into complete silence as Eris took small calculated steps closer to Y/N. The salty smell grew the closer he got to her. The streaks on her face was a clear indication of the tears she must have shed.
“Did you sleep well?” Eris asked, already knowing the answer.
“I haven’t slept,” Y/N replied.
“I thought as much,” Eris said. “If it brings you any peace; I haven’t slept either.”
“Funnily enough it doesn’t,” Y/N snapped.
“My, my, there’s no need to bite my head off,” Eris said, his voice calm. 
Y/N’s eyes met his for the first time and the bond hummed to life between them. It made Eris want to step closer to her– it was as if a rope was tied around his waist and was pulling taunt, beckoning him in her direction. 
“You seem nice enough, Eris, perhaps a little full of yourself, but I am clearly not in the mood now,” Y/N stated.
Eris held his hands up in defence. “I didn’t come here to fight you. If you must know, my original intention was to ask if you were okay.” A flicker of surprise flashed across Y/N’s eyes but it was gone as quick as it arrived. “But you seem to have already answered that question already.”
A long sigh passed Y/N’s lips. “No, I am not okay. How could I be?”
“A mating bond snapping was not what I expected to feel last night,” said Eris, holding his hands behind his back and fiddled with a loose thread on the cuff of his jacket. 
“You are not the only one surprised by that news,” Y/N said. “Now, will you please leave me alone. I don’t feel like talking right now.”
Eris nodded. “As you wish.”
As he turned his back, he tried to ignore the small sigh of relief slipping from Y/N’s lips. As his hand touched the cool metal of the door handle, Eris inclined his head to Y/N. 
“Just so you know, I am finding this news just as surprising and as hard as you,” Eris muttered. “I may not show it, but I am terrified.”
Eris didn’t wait around to hear if Y/N would respond. The door flung open and he stepped into the hallway, leaving Y/N alone in her room. 
When he was back in the corridor, Eris wiped his palms on his jacket and groaned. He hadn’t meant to come across so condescending, he had every intention of being genuine and asking her if she needed anything, if there was anything he could do. But the moment he found himself slipping into that vulnerability, his defences rose and were harder than steel. 
“That is a sight I wasn’t expecting,” the irksome voice of Rhysand spoke.
“This is my home in case you forgot, Rhysand,” Eris drawled, already irritated to spend time Rhysand’s presence. 
“A home that I helped you claim,” Rhysand replied. 
“Did you? You and I seem to be remembering differently,” said Eris, his voice dripping in annoyance. “I seem to recall that your two lap dogs, Azriel and Cassian, doing most of the work while you eye fucked your High Lady.”
A threatening growl emitted from Rhys. “Careful, Eris. You just claimed your title as High Lord. It would be a shame to pass it along so quickly.”
“Exactly, I just became High Lord. My powers have increased, Rhysand. I could incinerate you where you stand and I wouldn’t need to even move an inch,” Eris stated, folding his arms across his chest, looking down his nose at the High Lord of Night. 
“What were you doing in Y/N’s room?” Rhysand asked. 
“I don’t see how that is any of your business,” Eris commented. “This is my house, I can go where I like.”
“Stay away from her, Eris,” Rhysand sneered.
“Or what? Your shadowsinger will take me to his torture chamber?” Eris questions. “I don’t see how checking on someone after they have been crying the whole night is a valid reason to be tortured but I guess that is just how the Night Court works.”
“She was crying?” Rhysand asked, eyes darting to the closed door. 
“Sobbing her heart out,” Eris said. “It was only when I comforted her did she stop.”
Rhysand glared at Eris. “Stay away from her.”
“Why? I seem to have done more than her friends did,” Eris retorted.
“I won’t warn you again, Eris,” Rhysand threatened. 
A low chuckle slipped past Eris’s lips. “You seem to forget who you are talking to, Rhysand. I am the High Lord of this court. If you lay a finger on me, I am within my right to declare war against Night. And right now as it stands, the Autumn Court has more allies than the Night Court.” Eris took a step back and straightened his jacket. “I want you out of my court by midday. Y/N and Nesta are allowed to stay if they desire. They are the only two of your court I can abide having a conversation with.”
Eris turned on his heel and walked down the hallway just as Rhysand knocked on Y/N’s door. A faint ‘Go away’ was heard from the other side. Eris was not sure why but it made a smile tug at his lips. 
***
Blood covered his hands and the dummy he had beat to a pulp. It was the third one Azriel had battered. The first two were thrown into the corner of the room haphazardly. There wasn’t a fourth one to use so Azriel immediately picked up the sharpest knives that were in the training room. 
The ache in his chest hadn’t eased and it wasn’t because of the bargain. Something was lost in the Autumn Court; his hope. He had thought that his hope had been shattered beyond repair before. First with Mor and the next time with Gwyn. At least when he was with Elain, he never needed to cling to the hope of her being his mate. 
As the first blade cut through the air, Azriel let out a long sigh. It was foolish to believe he would find his mate in Y/N. And Azriel did truly believe it for a time. There was no one else in the world that made him feel the way Y/N did. Even their transition from friendship into a relationship had been easy. He had always trusted her, confided in her, bonded with her. Azriel knew that his hope was shattered– for good this time. He couldn’t imagine a world where there would be someone better matched for him than Y/N.
Azriel threw the final blade in his hand and he watched as it missed the target completely and embedded itself into the stone pillar behind. 
“Not only did you crack a glass, you now decide to begin destroying my home,” Cassian commented as he walked into the training room. 
Azriel spared Cassian a quick glance before turning his back to him to grab bandages for his hands. 
“You weren’t with us when we all came back from Autumn,” Cassian said. “Y/N said you left early.”
At the mention of her name, Azriel stiffened. “I came back last night.”
“Without Y/N?” Cassian questions.
Another person entered the room and the shadows around Azriel began to grow restless. He couldn’t handle any more questions.
“It seems as if you don’t know where your lover is either, Azriel,” Rhys commented. “I was wondering where she went after we arrived back here this morning. I was hoping she was with you.”
“If anything she is most likely at her cottage,” Azriel answered. His heart stung. Only hours ago he would have been calling it home. Their home.
“And do tell me that if she is there, why are you here?” Rhys questioned with a raised eyebrow. “You have a day off, typically we rarely see you.”
“You’ll be seeing a lot more of me,” Azriel growled as he wrapped his hands up. 
Behind him, Cassian frowned, stepping closer to the shadowsinger, his eyes widening once he noticed his bloodied hands. “What happened to your hands?” Cassian asked. 
Rhys inclined his head to the heap of training dummies in the corner of the room. “I assume Az is letting out some anger.”
“I’m not angry,” Azriel stated. 
“Tell that to the dummies I now need to replace,” Cassian groaned. 
Azriel turned his body to face his brothers, eyes cast down to the floor. “I will be returning to my room here. Only if that is okay with you, Cass.”
Cassian’s eyebrows furrowed. “Of course. But why? You’ve been living with Y/N for nearly four years.”
“There won’t be any more,” Azriel responded. 
The High Lord glanced at the open doors of the training room. “I see. I hope that this doesn’t affect the work the two of you occasionally do together.”
“I can be professional,” Azriel snapped, pulling on the end of the bandage too tight. 
“Why did the two of you split up?” Cassian questioned, still looking utterly confused.
“I’d actually like to know that myself,” Rhys added. 
“It’s none of your business,” Azriel retorted. “But you will pry regardless of what I say. All you need to know is that we were not compatible.”
Cassian snorted. “Not compatible my ass! Az, I’ve seen the way you look at her. You look at her like she is the centre of your universe, as if she was a goddess herself.”
“And how did she look at me?” Azriel asked, honestly curious. Though Cassian was rather talented at overexerting the truth, he wanted to know the way Y/N looked at him when he wasn’t looking. Did she look at him the same way? Or did she look at him the way many others did…in pity.
“I never really noticed a difference in the way she looked at you,” Cassian replied. “But she was… touchier with you than anyone else.”
Azriel deflated at Cassian’s answer. Did Y/N never look at him any other way but neutrally? Was he wrong about the connection they had the whole time?
“I see,” Azriel voiced.
Rhys’s gaze still bore into Azriel as if he were trying to read his body language but Azriel had gotten used to hiding how he feels so he was an expert in deception. There was a presence in his mind and Azriel knew that Rhys was lurking, just waiting for him to lower his walls to find out the true story. The walls in his mind remained impenetrable. 
“I still don’t understand why your relationship ended,” Cassian wondered aloud. “You have been happier than you have in years.”
“Can you just leave it alone, Cassian!” Azriel snapped. “I do not want to talk about it anymore. Our relationship ended because of our incompatibility, that is all. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Of course he told a lie, he had to. Azriel didn’t want to admit to his two happily mated brothers that the female who had lit up his life was mated to another– destined for a life of fiery love with a High Lord; it was what she deserved. He remembered the pity in their eyes when Gwyn had told him she had found her mate and Azriel never wished to be looked on like that again by anyone. 
Once again, Cassian’s mouth opened as if to argue back but after quickly looking at Rhys, Cassian closed his mouth. Rhys’s orders were most likely whispered into his mind. Azriel was grateful. 
“If you don’t mind, I need to go and collect my things,” Azriel stated, making his way towards the door. 
Only after a few steps, however, it was as if the world was mocking him as Y/N appeared in the threshold. Azriel’s whole body went rigid as he looked at her. She looked exhausted. 
“Az,” Y/N whispered. 
For a split second, Azriel wanted to run back into her arms and pretend as if he were her mate instead. He wanted to wrap his arms around her waist and bury her head into her neck, breathing in her sweet intoxicating scent. They would return home and everything would be as it should. 
After that second was up, Azriel’s face washed over with one made of stone. His expression didn’t change. Y/N shifted her weight from one foot to the other, a habit Azriel knew all too well. It indicated that she was nervous or uncomfortable. By the tension in the air, Azriel knew that she was feeling the latter. 
Forcing one foot in front of the other, Azriel walked towards the open doorway, aiming to leave without a fuss. Y/N watched him the whole way, her eyebrows knitted together. His intention was to leave without a fuss but as Azriel walked past Y/N, his arm knocked her shoulder, causing her to stumble the smallest amount. 
Azriel closed his eyes and continued his stride. He hadn’t meant to knock her. He was too focused on leaving that room that nothing else really mattered. But Azriel didn’t look back,  he couldn’t– because the moment he did, he knew he would run back to her and beg on his knees for her to take him back. 
Once Azriel was far enough away, he stopped and let his wings scrape on the floor, not having the energy to hold them up anymore. He looked down at his bandaged hands to find the blood soaking through the white fabric. With a clench of his fists, Azriel continued down the hall, trying to scrub any thought of Y/N from his mind. 
***
Neither Rhys’s nor Cassian said anything as they stood motionless in the training room. Y/N didn’t have anything to say either as she took a small hesitant step inside. Did Azriel tell them? She thought. Though if she had to admit to herself, she didn’t want anyone knowing of her bond with Eris yet. She knew that nobody would take kindly to the news. 
“What did you do to him, Y/N?” Cassian asked. 
“I–” Y/N failed to find the words as she replayed Cassian’s question in her head. What did I do? 
“Why do you assume I did something?” she questioned. 
“You saw him,” said Cassian, gesturing to where Azriel disappeared. “I have never seen him that angry before.”
“Again,” Y/N repeated. “Why do you assume that I did something?”
“I don’t see you looking too upset,” Cassian scoffed. 
Y/N frowned. “How do you know what I feel? Just because I am not punching and beating things up doesn’t mean that I am not upset.”
“Then why don’t you enlighten us and tell us why your relationship with Azriel ended,” Rhys chimed in. “Azriel is reluctant to tell us.”
“It is none of your business,” Y/N snapped. “It is private between Azriel and I.”
“And Eris,” Rhys added.
“What?” Y/N questioned. 
“I watched him slip out of your room this morning,” Rhys commented, picking a piece of lint from his clothes. 
“After he tried to comfort me after Azriel left me alone after the celebration,” Y/N explained, getting more irritated by the second. “If you dare to think anything else, Rhysand, mother help you.”
Rhys shrugged. “I wasn’t implying anything.”
Cassian who had silently stood beside Rhys spoke up. “Why don’t you go home, Y/N? Azriel is staying here and it doesn’t seem like he wants to see you.”
Y/N scoffed. “So if Azriel is upset then you don’t want me around? Why haven’t you assumed that I also want to be around my family? Or does that sentiment only extend to Azriel for the both of you? After all, I was never invited to family dinners by the both of you, that was always Feyre, Mor or Azriel’s job. It seems like I was only your family once Azriel and I were in a relationship, despite the fact that I have known you for around five hundred years.”
“Y/N–”
Cassian was cut off by Y/N’s hand. “No, it’s fine. I now know exactly where I stand.”
“You know we think of you as family,” Rhys cut in. 
Saoire shook her head. “No, Rhys, you don’t. I see that clearly now.”
Neither Rhys nor Cassian had the chance to respond as Y/N quickly left the room. She didn’t exactly know where she was going but all she knew was that she wanted to be alone. As she walked down the corridor, she could faintly smell the familiar scent of Azriel and Y/N’s eyes burned with unshed tears. She knew that there was no way to convince him to stay with her. Her soul was tied to someone else, the male she was fated to be with. 
Eris Vanserra was someone Y/N had never met personally; only heard stories about– and most of the stories were not positive. Yet, when she danced with him last night, even if she wasn’t leaning into his fake flirtations, she had an amazing time dancing with him. Even this morning when he checked up on her after their mating bond snapped, he didn’t need to do that. And left the room when she asked him to. It was the bare minimum but they didn’t align with the stories of the cruel, evil, wicked High Lord that the Inner Circle had spoken about for many years. 
Y/N shook her head, hoping to rid herself of thoughts about Eris and continued down the hallway. No destination in mind, all that she wanted to do was be alone and dive into her own research– anything to distract her from her reality. 
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Text
It was Captain’s turn to host poker night, and that meant everyone got to be in his nice house out in the suburbs. His Missus normally made them some nice snacks. She'd chat with them for a bit, but then after, she would leave the four of them to their own devices. Kyle thought she was nice. When he met her, she was indeed wearing blonde hair but went with the popular Créme Brulé color. She certainly was the type his Captain would attract, classy, sophisticated, a little crazy but not much, and she ran a tight ship.
She was hanging around, though, clearly waiting for someone. No bother, it wasn't any of Kyle's business. The front door opened up, to the sound of another woman squealing. There's fast talking and laughing, and Kyle is a little confused because traditionally, poker night has always been guy's night. Still no worries, as Price's Missus was saying that the bar was set up downstairs.
"Where's your little crash out?" The Missus say as her and her friend walk by.
The friend is sporting a deep body wave cherry Coca-Cola hairstyle that goes down right to her waist. She's dressed in all black, pretty gold hoops in her ears and other gold chains and belts wrapped around her waist. "Oh, he's coming. He's finishing up a cigarette and he will be right in."
Kyle looks over at Soap "Did Cap say he was inviting other people?"
Soap shrugged his shoulders, "Ah donnae ken so?" He was watching the woman closely, "But she's bonnie."
The front door opens up, and Kyle is expecting this mystery man to waltz in but is surprised to see Simon. Okay, still no bother, except why is Simon wearing black air force ones? Was he even aware of that brand? And why is he wearing a Nike tech trench? Kyle is feeling a strange sense of déja vú.
"Och! Si nice coat! It's fittin' fo' ye!" Soap greets.
Simon only grunts as he puts away his coat. The cherry-coke woman reentered the living area carrying two wine glasses and her eyes land on Simon.
"Sweetie, come get me when you guys are done. Can't say I won't be singing My neck and my back in two hours if i am, we gotta leave right away. Love you!" And she disappeared down the steps with Price's girlfriend. Simon only nods his head in acquiescence, and there's a slight blush on his ears from what she said.
Soap has a wide grin on his face, and by this time, Price is entering the room with the cards. Kyle feels like he is on the office or some bad parody...because what?
"How'd ye meet her, Si?" Soap is vibrating with energy.
"I met her through Price's girl...it was a blind date." Simon says.
Soap thinks he's funny, "Do I get a pretty hen next?"
Kyle places his head in his hands and leans over the table. "I can't believe there's two of you now."
@c-nstantine I saw what you wrote and ran with it. Lol
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hayseed321 · 3 days ago
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It was the end of the second semester. Dillon one of her freshman students wasn't doing well in her Spanish class. She had seen it time and time again,students would come eager to learn and work than blow off all there studies to party with there friends. I don't know what it was but she had found something in Dillon that was special. She seen something in him she wasn't going to give up on that easy. She wasn't about to sit back and watch him ruin his life like she had seen happen to so many others. As the bell for her class rang and her students got up to exit her class she called for Dillon to come to her desk. She didn't know what she wanted to say, but new she needed to do something. She could see him roll his eyes before he turned to walk toward the front of the class.
Dillon: Uhh... Hello Ms. Fernández you wanted to see me?
Ms. Fernández: Yes Dillon. I am worried you are going to fail my class. I wish to help you anyway I can. Is this the only class you are having trouble with?
Dillon: Well, I appreciate the gesture, but this isn't any of your business how I am doing.
Ms. Fernández: Ok. Wow...I am sorry I asked. I hate to see any of my students struggle. If you ever need help, I am always here.
Dillon: I don't need your help! I hate people saying they feel sorry for me! I am not looking for your pity! How would you be able to help me anyways? Why would you want to help me?
Ms. Fernández: Well Dillon I don't feel sorry for you? I see students like you come in my class every year. They do well than they party with there friends and next thing they are failing there classes and dropping out of school. Your right I don't have to help you, but I just want to say I would like to help if you let me. You know I took alot of the same classes you are taking I bet when I went to college. I try and help my students in anyway I can. You just need to know to ask for it. Tell you what. Why don't we meet at my place three times a week Monday, Wednesday, Friday. We will go over anything you are having trouble with. I will meet your teachers,kinda like your parents would when you were in grade school.
Dillon thought about it. He could see she was willing to go out of her way to help him in anyway possible. So he agreed to meet her three nights a week 3pm at her place.
Dillon couldn't stop thinking of Ms. Fernández. He always had a crush on her. She was hot for a teacher and so kind to try and help him. He didn't want to let her down. Dillon didn't know when he would ever need to know trigonometry, molecular biology or marketing in real life. The day dragged slowly on and he found it difficult to stay focused on his clasess. He kept thinking of what she had told him "she would talk to his teachers, just as his parents had when he was in grade school." Did she want to be his mother? If his parents saw what grades he was getting they would beat him for sure! But they wouldn't know how to help. He noticed none of his other teachers offered helping like Ms. Fernández did. The bell finally rang and he found himself at the front of Ms. Fernández's house ringing her door bell. Someone opened the door but it wasn't Ms. Fernández. I am sorry I must have the wrong house. Wait who are you looking for? Ms. Fernández.
Oh you must be Dillon. I am Jessica, Ms. Fernández girlfriend please come in. Let me take your coat. I have heard so much about you. Let me tell Julie you are here. Come on into the kitchen.
Thanks Jessica. Hi Dillon, you can call me Julie. Julie and Dillon sat down and went over everything that Dillon was struggling with and what teachers he had. Julie told Dillon they needed to meet atleast three nights each week in order to catch him up with his classes. If he were to miss one there was going to be punishments. Jessica made supper than the three of them ate together. Than they said there goodbyes as Dillon left to go home. Dillon went to his classes Tuesday and Wednesday and to Julie's house after school. The next day his friends had told him of a big party Friday night. The party was on the otherside of campus and they had to bring there own drinks. Dillon didn't have a car so he rode his bike to a convenient store and bought a 30 pack of beer. Dillons friends were happy to see him. One of his crushes told him she would be glad to study with him😜 and that he might get lucky tonight! That reminded Dillon he had forgotten to go to Julie's after school 🙈 The party was amazing. It was definitely the biggest party Dillon had ever been to. There was much drinking, drugs, loud music, and sexy girls. The next morning Dillon didn't feel so good. He felt he was at a playground spinning on one of those spinning wheels and he couldn't make it stop. When he was able to check his phone he could see he had multiple missed calls and texts from Julie. He called her back and apologized for his absence from studying. Dillon lied and told Julie he was at a friend's house and he had forgotten all about studying. Monday morning came and another student in Julie's class asked Dillon if he remembered jumping into the pool from the roof of the house. Dillon shook his head no. Julie pretended not to hear as she went about teaching. Julie asked Dillon after class if he planned on meeting at her place after school to study at her place. Dillon apologized for missing Friday and agreed to meet her after school. Julie called Jessica to tell her to expect Dillon after school and to get the punishment room ready. As Dillon went through his day he remembered Julie saying if you miss one day there would be a punishment. He couldn't help but think of what Julie's punishment would be. He thought to himself what did she expect? Every student comes to have fun to college, as well as to learn. Did she expect him to go to school and not party and have fun on a Friday night? Dillon couldn't stop thinking of this the rest of the day. For some reason he felt nervous standing at Julie's door ringing the door bell. Again Jessica answered the door and welcomed him in. Hello Dillon, Julie was very disappointed with you Friday. Jessica took Dillons coat and hung it up for him on the coat rack. Please follow me. Jessica took him by the hand and led him into an adjacent room and closed the door. It looked like some sort of nursery. Jessica sat down and still had ahold of Dillons arm. Jessica asked Dillon how come he hadn't told Julie there was a party you wanted to attend?Dillon mumbled" I don't know? She undid his pants and slid them off with ease. Than caught him off balance laying Dillon across her lap. Almost immediately he felt the swats and felt the sting of each spank. Dillon was very small for his age at only 5' and very slim not alot of muscle either. Jessica had no trouble holding him down. It didn't take long and Dillon was a sobbing mess in Jessica lap. Jessica hugged Dillon and asked Dillon to tell her what he had done wrong. Dillon crying said " I went to the party and didn't tell Julie".
That's right Dillon. Julie is doing all this to try and help you. She isn't trying to make your life miserable. Why didn't you tell Julie you wanted to go to a party?
I don't know why i didn't tell Julie? I must of forgotten? Well she could of rescheduled your study for a different time but you act like a child who isn't responsible at all! Jessica picked Dillon up with ease and carried him to the changing table. Dillon hugging Jessica with both arms. Jessica pulled Dillons sneakers, pants and boxers off. Dillon was wondered what she was doing but didn't want another spanking so he figured he would keep his mouth shut. Jessica slid a diaper under him and powdered him than pulled the diaper up between his legs and fastened the tapes. She picked Dillon up and helped him off the table and stood him on the floor. Dillon noticed what he was wearing now, a short t shirt that stopped at the top of his diaper a diaper and socks. Why am I wearing a diaper? Where are my boxers and pants? Julie wanted to punish you like the age you are acting. Jessica picked Dillon up and carried him downstairs and set him in a high chair strapped him in than slid the tray in place. "Hey I can sit at the table?" Julie smiled as she saw Dillon. He looked like a little toddler the exact way she saw him. Julie spoke " Me alglegra que hayas podido Venice esta noche!" (I am glad you were able to make it tonight!"
Jessica had to hide her face from laughing as she fastened his bib behind his head.
Julie " Parece que tines much aprendizaje en tu future cercano!"(looks like you have lots of learning ahead)
Julie and Jessica kept Dillon at there home and had him do his classes from there. Dillon wasn't happy at all but his grades improved dramatically. Julie would teach and Jessica would help with Dillon and his studies at home. Without the need for bathroom breaks Jessica could direct all Dillons focus to his studies except for breakfast and lunch and a quick diaper change here and there. His teachers couldn't believe his progress and wished this for more of there students. One day Julie overheard a student talking of Dillon and asking for him. It was Ashley his crush he hung with at the party. When the bell rang and the students got up to leave Julie called Ashley to meet her at her desk. Ashley walked up to her desk. "Hello Ms. Fernández you wanted to see me?" Yes. Ashley. You have been a great student in my class, I wish you would speak out more! I was wondering what you would think of studying after school at my place. I have been helping Dillon with his classes. He is doing so much better.
Ashley: You know where Dillon is?
Ms. Fernández: Yes he is at my home. I enrolled him in the online classes so he could focus more and get more one on one. I didn't mean to keep him from his friends. He just wasn't very informative of telling me when he was coming to study and when he wasn't.
Ashley: So you kidnapped him?
Ms. Fernández: No, not excactly. I was helping him, but he needed more help than what we could give in the alloted time. You are welcome to see him whenever you like. For some online is a much easier way of learning, and they are often able to graduate months ahead of when they expected saving there parents $1,000s. I have been in contact with his parents who have already thanked me over and over for helping him.
Ashley: You won't kidnap me to if I come to see him?
Ms. Fernández: No, no one is kidnapping anyone? He would love to see his friends I am sure!
Ashley went off to her next class thinking of Dillon and what Ms. Fernández said. It seemed so strange Dillon not contacting any of them. She decided she would go to Ms. Fernández's house and sew what was going on herself.
Ms. Fernandez told Jessica they might have Ashley, Dillons girlfriend visiting later, and to dress Dillon appropriately. Jessica did as Julie told her and Dillon looked and smelled amazing. Jessica had told Dillon they were having a guest to the house and wanted everything to be top notch. Jessica and Dillon cleaned the house top to bottom. Jessica set the table for the 4 of them. Dillon asked Jessica where she put his high chair? Jessica told him he had been such a good boy he could sit at the table tonight. Jessica made a dish of Stromboli, Italian bread and red wine.
Ashley finished with school for the day made her way to Ms Fernández's house. Ashley rang the door bell twice before Ms. Fernández opened it.
Ms. Fernández: Hello Ashley.
Ashley: HI Ms. Fernández
Ms. Fernández: You can call me Julie please. Jessica walked over to take Ashley's coat. And this is Jessica my girlfriend. This is Ashley
Jessica: Pleased to meet you
Ashley: Nice to meet you.
Dillon came out to see who it was. When he saw it was Ashley he turned bright red.
Ashley: Hi Dillon
Dillon: Hi Ashley
Ashley ran to give Dillon a hug. How are you doing? It has been a few weeks.
Dillon: I have been good. Just been busy with school work. Jessica has been helping me alot. If it wasn't for Jessica and Julie I would have dropped out by now. He started crying.
Ashley; Now, now, Dillon. It's ok. I am very happy they have been here to help you. I have missed you though. Ashley started crying also. I thought you had left without saying goodbye. Ashley grabbed Dillons butt. What are you wearing a diaper?
Julie cut in and took Ashley to a side room. This is the reason Dillon didn't want to be with his friends. He didn't want to be made fun of. The night of the party he jumped into the pool the doctors sayed he might be incontinent the rest of his life. True friends will stay by someone through thick and thin. Will you be that for Dillon? He could really use that type of friendship. I know he loves you, do you love him?
Ashley: Crying "Yes I still love him" I didn't know he got hurt?
Julie: Can you keep this secret between us?
Ashley: Of course!
Julie: Hugs Ashley. That's great! He needs all the support we can give him. If you are open to babysitting or (aka studying) I would luv to have some nights out myself and Jessica if you wouldn't mind.
Ashley laughs. Yeah I could babysit (aka study)
Jessica: Let's all go into the kitchen and sit and eat.
Julie: That's a great idea!
Ashley held Dillons hand kissed Dillons neck and whispered I love you and I will always love you no matter what.
Dillon stopped, looked straight into Ashley's eyes. Tears running down his face. Hugged Ashley with all his might. Ashley pulled Dillon close.
Ashley; I think it's kinda cute actually. Should I check you? She patted Dillons diaper. Dillon turned three shades of purple. As he tried to pull away.
Dillon: Diapers are not my thing. I suppose I am getting used to them best I can. Please don't tell anyone!
Ashley could see how upset this made him. I won't. I never want to do anything to hurt you Dillon. You can trust me. Ashley finished hugging Dillon with a kiss on the lips. She than pulled Dillon into the kitchen. Dillon pulled Ashley's chair out for her. Jessica pulled the chair out for Julie than Dillon sat while Jessica brought everything to the table. After eating and sharing stories Ashley said she needed to go. Julie asked Ashley if she could babysit Dillon Friday night for real?
Ashley said sure what time?
Julie: 5:00 Jessica and I have tickets to a comedy show we won't be back till late. You are welcome to stay the night in our guest room. We would really appreciate this! We love Dillon but don't think he would stay awake through a late night comedy. Lol. He has been going to bed 8:00pm sharp. But you guys can stay up as late as you like. It was easier setting him up on a strict schedule for teaching him. Otherwise he wouldn't want to get up in the mornings for Jessica.
Ashley: OK, I will see you Friday 5:00pm. Bye Dillon she kissed him again. Dillon turning 3 shades of red from one little kiss. Ashley smiled thinking how cute. She felt she was falling in love with him all over again. Like Dillon was someone new, he kinda was to her. She wasn't sure what she felt. Looking at Dillon, she always stood above him. Now she would be caring for him like she had done for her nieces and nephews.
The week pressed on Ashley participated more in Julie's class. Ashley went to see Dillon every night after school. Jessica would help them both with there homework. Than Ashley and Dillon would spend there time alone on the couch watching TV. Jessica came to check on Dillons diaper he was wet. Ashley told Jessica she wanted to change his diaper.
Jessica said that was ok and told Ashley she would show her where the supplies were kept. Jessica took Ashley and Dillon into his nursery and showed her his changing table, all equipped with diapers creme, powder, oil, lotion underneath. A large crib in the corner, a rocking horse, a rocking chair, story books for small kids, a high chair, and a jolly jumper.
Ashley's eyes😳grew wide. Why do you have so much children stuff? I thought this was a medical condition?
Jessica: Yes, but before Dillon we always wanted a baby but we couldn't have one. So we made this room hoping someday we would adopt one.
Jessica picked Dillon up onto the changing table. You see. This was a dream come true for us. As well as a great help to Dillon with his schooling. Dillon fit in so well being so small for his age.
Ashley shook her head in agreement. Ashley thanked Jessica for showing her where the supplies were and Jessica left to do other work. Ashley pulled Dillons pants down. She noticed the cute designs on his abdl diapers. She slid a fresh diaper under his butt as he lifted. Ashley unfastened the tapes and wiped around his cock and balls. Ashley pulled the wet diaper out and rolled it up and tossed it into his diaper pail. She applied baby oil, as she rubbed it in she couldn't help but notice Dillons pee pee getting hard. She couldn't possibly put a diaper on this way? Ashley hopped up on to the table on top of Dillon. Ashley sat on top of Dillon and inserted his shaft into her. She rode it hard until she could hear Dillons breathe get hard and she pulled out. Still rubbing over his shaft. Ashley pulled his diaper up between his legs and fastened it in place. She continued riding him until his breathing was normal again. He shot a hot stream of sperm over his tummy which Ashley quickly licked up. She couldn't get enough of Dillon so sweet and innocent laying there willing to give himself to her in anyway she pleased. Trusting her completely with his deepest secrets. She worked her way up pulling his shirt off giving his tummy rasburries, kissing her way up to his lips. Grinding her body against his diaper. His member fighting against the fabric of the diaper to get back into her, spilling load after load of semon onto his stomach. Ashley licked his tummy again than wiped it clean with a few baby wipes. She unfastened his diaper and sprinkled some baby powder rubbed it in than fastened his diaper in place. Ashley helped Dillon off the table and pulled his pants off. Telling him he looks to cute! She needs to be able to see when he needs changing. Dillon rolls his eyes🙄. Ashley holds Dillons hand as she brings him back to the living room to watch cartoons. Ashley told Dillon, Jessica, and Julie she had to go. They sayed there goodbyes as Ashley left. Ashley had a hard time concentrating the rest of the week. She finally made it to Friday. She rang the door bell to Julie's house. Jessica let her in Dillon was in just a diaper, socks and a short shirt. Ashley hugged Dillon telling him shechad missed him so.
Jessica brought his highchair out to the kitchen and set his bib out. Julie and Jessica told Ashley if she needed anything to call one of them. Otherwise have fun! As Ashley and Dillon waved goodbye. Ashley patted Dillons diaper playfully. Ashley went to the fridge to see what there was to eat. She didn't find much except cool whip, chocolate syrup, pudding, as well as m&ms on the counter. She looked in the cupboards just jars of baby food. She She ordered pizza ,wings and soda. Than took the syrup, coolwhip, m&ms, and pudding into the nursery than called for Dillon to check his diaper. She patted his diaper. It was wet. She unfastened his diaper and wiped him clean, she placed a fresh diaper under him and rolled up his wet diaper and thew it in his diaper pal. With him laying over his fresh new diaper she poured the syrup over his pee pee, along with cool whip, m&ms and pudding than pulled his diaper up between his legs. She took his baby oil and rubbed it all over him from head to toe. She helped him down whispering in his ear if i catch you in less than 10 min. You have to eat baby food and drink baby formula. If you can keep from getting caught for greater than 10 min. You can eat pizza. Ashley chased Dillon around the house she would catch him but he easily would slip out of her grasp. She charged him laying him out on the couch Ashley kissed him. I believe captured you and its only been 4 min. I believe i will have my desert now. She unfastened his diaper and began to lick the contents in his diaper. Not wanting to waste a diaper she fastened it back up. She turned to walk in to the kitchen she heard some soft grunts. She noticed Dillon squatting down trying to hide behind the chair. She pretended not to see him. Most other girlfriends would leave after such an ordeal. Some reason she thought he looked so cute. Helplessly filling his diaper up like the little baby he had become. She went back into the kitchen and warmed up a bottle of formula. Dillon came into the kitchen to see what was for supper. As she handed the bottle to him the door bell rang. Ashley grabbed some money and asked Dillon playfully to answer it. He almost fainted. Just kidding kiddo giving Dillon some swats to his full diaper. You stay here. Ashley answered the door and payed the delivery man. Ashley came back into the kitchen and placed the pizza on the table. She picked Dillon up under his loaded diaper like a toddler and placed him in his highchair. She strapped him in than slid the tray in place. She than took the bib Jessica left out and placed it around his neck. She grabbed some squash, and roastbeef baby food and the formula and began to feed him while she ate her pizza.
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Lessons in love
721 notes · View notes
meazalykov · 2 days ago
Text
the past does not exist
lena oberdorf x interviewer!reader
summary: after a year, the both of you came to accept that you cannot change the past.
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it was a job you loved—interviewing the best and brightest in women’s football, seeing the beauty and heartbreak of the sport that brought you so much love.. love for someone who never made it professionally. 
you had a thing for drawing out stories no one else could, peeling back the layers of the players' lives beyond the pitch.
it wasn’t just about asking the right questions; it was about knowing how to listen, being caring, and respect. through this job, you were able to make friends with many of the footballers.
you weren't a gossip interviewer, you knew what to post and when to keep your mouth closed and mind your business. mainly sticking to growth stories, interviews about games itself, and tactical commentary. the players respected you as much as you respected them.
when you stayed in wolfsburg during the 2023 champions league final, the town seemed excited for the team that shined throughout the season. the final was in eindhoven, but wolfsburg fans decked out in green and white as they prepared to cheer on their team against barcelona in the dutch city. 
for you, it was another opportunity to dig deeper into the lives of players, and the wolfsburg squad was nothing short of intriguing. to you, lena oberdorf stood out among them. she is a tough midfielder whose intensity on the pitch was matched only by her charm off it.
your first interview with lena was.. interesting to say the least. she leaned back in her chair, arms crossed casually, a mischievous glint in her eye as she teased you about the list of questions you had prepared. 
“come on, these can’t be all you’ve got!! be nosey for once,” she’d said, a grin tugging at the corner of her lips.
you laughed, adjusting your recorder on the table. 
“trust me, oberdorf, i’ve got plenty more where that came from.”
“good,” she said, leaning forward slightly. 
“i wouldn’t want this to be boring.”
what followed was a conversation that felt less like an interview and more like a sparring match. she was sharp, witty, and unapologetically confident. you couldn’t help but be drawn to her energy. over the next few days, lena sought you out whenever she could—whether it was a casual chat after training or a quiet drink in the team’s hotel bar. 
it was there, amid the low hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses, that your connection deepened.
one night, as the team celebrated their victory in the semifinals, lena pulled you aside. her usually playful demeanor was replaced by something softer, more vulnerable. 
“y/n.. i don’t know what it is about you,” she admitted, her voice low enough that only you could hear. 
“but i can’t stop thinking about you. you’re so beautiful, and i can’t stop hearing your voice. is that weird to say? i am not sure, but please tell me that this is not one sided..”
it didn’t take long for your professional boundaries to blur. you spent nights tangled in lena’s sheets, stolen moments in hotel rooms where the world outside ceased to exist. 
it wasn’t love, not at all, but it was something raw and undeniable. 
wolfsburg lost the champions league final, which sucked horribly. that means that you had your next job to do– the 2023 women's world cup. you were in australia, assigned to be following the uswnt as they sought to defend their title. 
that means that you couldn’t be with lena or germany. it sucked, but you and lena kept contact. until, germany’s shocking elimination in the group stage. it was a blow to lena and her teammates. 
when you texted her to check in, she didn’t respond. calls went unanswered, messages left on read. 
you understood that lena was hurting. the weight of expectations, the sting of disappointment, it was a lot for anyone to bear. however, her silence cut deep. you wanted to be there for her, to comfort her, but your job demanded your attention elsewhere. 
as much as it pained you, you told yourself to let it go. lena owed you nothing. you weren’t hers, and she wasn’t yours.
still, it hurt.
months passed, and you threw yourself into your work. you interviewed aitana bonmati after her world cup final heroics, sat down with leah williamson to talk about england’s near chance at winning it all, and made a documentary on the rise of young stars like lauren james, salma paralluelo, and trinity rodman. 
lena became a ghost in your life—a memory you tried not to revisit, though it lingered at the edges of your thoughts.
then, over a year later, the news broke: lena oberdorf is leaving wolfsburg for bayern. the transfer sent shockwaves through the football world, and as one of the leading journalists in women’s football, it was your job to cover it. 
except your coworker, matt, stepped in before you could even begin.
“i’ve got this one,” matt said casually, leaning against your desk. 
you looked up from your laptop, frowning.
“since when do you cover transfers? you only do injury status stuff..”
he shrugged. 
“since i know this one’s a little... complicated for you.”
“complicated?” you repeated, your tone sharper than you intended. 
matt raised an eyebrow, unbothered by your reaction. 
“look, everyone knows that you and oberdorf had... something. i’m just trying to make it easier for you.”
“i don’t need you to make it easier for me,” you snapped, though the tightening in your chest betrayed you. 
“i can handle it.”
“y/n,” judah, matt’s husband and your other coworker, spoke up, his voice softer. 
“you don’t have to prove anything. let matt take this one.”
you wanted to argue, to insist that you were fine, but the truth was, the thought of facing lena again—even from a professional distance—made your stomach churn. 
you hated that she still had this power over you, that the mere mention of her name could unravel the carefully constructed walls you’d built around yourself.
“fine,” you muttered, closing your laptop with more force than necessary. 
matt gave you a reassuring smile. “i’ll handle it, don’t worry.”
as he walked away, you leaned back in your chair, exhaling slowly. you told yourself it didn’t matter. lena was just another player, another story. you’d moved on. 
except, deep down, you knew that wasn’t entirely true.
paris had this summer’s energy with the olympics. the streets were alive with fans draped in flags from all over the world, and you were in your element, weaving through the chaos to chase stories that mattered. 
the united states had just played germany in the group stage, a tense match that ended in a 4-1 victory for the americans. the post-match adrenaline was palpable, and you had just wrapped up an interview with sophia smith. 
it was nice seeing one of your favorites again, sophia’s grin mirrored your own as she walked off toward her teammates to the dressing room, the tension of the match now replaced by joy.
you adjusted your microphone to turn it off. you turned to walk away, preparing to call it a day when you nearly collided with lea schüller. 
the blonde woman’s presence was commanding, her expression soft yet serious. you’ve interviewed her a long time ago while she still played for essen, but now she’s grown up. 
“oh, lea,” you said, recovering quickly. professionalism kicked in as you gestured toward the camera crew that was starting to pack up. 
“did you want to do a quick interview too? i can call them back.”
“no,” lea said quickly, shaking her head. her tone caught you off guard—there was a weight to it, something unsaid pressing at the edges. 
“i don’t want the cameras.”
your brow furrowed as you lowered your microphone and put it away in your bag. 
“are you okay? i mean, this is about the olympics, right? you should be focusing on that.”
“i am,” lea said, her voice steady but her gaze unwavering. 
“but this isn’t about the olympics. not entirely.”
you tilted your head, curiosity prickling at your skin. 
“then what is it about?”
lea hesitated, glancing around as if to make sure no one was listening. 
“can we just talk? no microphones, no cameras. just you and me.”
you hesitated. as much as you respected lea, this wasn’t normal protocol. the look in her eyes—earnest and almost pleading—nudged you to agree. 
“okay,” you said softly. 
“what’s on your mind?”
lea exhaled, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. she stepped closer, lowering her voice. 
“i’m here to apologize. not for myself—but for obi.”
your heart skipped a beat at the mention of her name. you hadn’t spoken about obi in months, hadn’t even allowed yourself to think about her for fear of reopening old wounds. 
here it was, her name hanging in the air between you and lea like a ghost.
“apologize?” you echoed, keeping your tone neutral. 
“for what?”
lea shifted on her feet, clearly uncomfortable. “i know about you and lena. about... what you had.” she paused, watching your expression carefully. 
“she’s really sorry for how things ended. or—how they didn’t end, i guess. for ghosting you.”
you swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. 
“she told you about us?”
“she did, but honestly she didn’t have to,” lea said gently. 
“i’m her best friend. i noticed how different she was after you two stopped seeing eachother. she’s not great at dealing with her emotions, and back then...” lea trailed off, sighing. 
“she was going through a lot. losing the champions league final with wolfsburg hit her hard. then germany getting knocked out of the world cup? it was too much. and she didn’t know how to handle it. she shut everyone out, including you. shit, it took me a few weeks to get to her again.”
you wanted to look away, to shield yourself from the vulnerability of the moment, but lea’s gaze held you in place. the blonde’s words twisted something deep inside you—part anger, part sadness, part longing. 
“i get that she was struggling,” you said finally, your voice steadier than you felt. 
“but she could’ve said something. anything. instead, she just... disappeared.”
“i know,” lea said quickly. “and i’m not trying to make excuses for her. she knows she messed up. that’s why she asked me to talk to you since she can’t be here.”
you blinked, the weight of her words settling over you. 
“she asked you?”
lea nodded. 
“she wants you to know she’s sorry. she didn’t mean to hurt you but she also knows that an apology coming from me isn’t enough.”
you folded your arms across your chest, the defense mechanism almost automatic. “it’s not,” you admitted. 
“if she wants to apologize, she should tell me herself.”
lea’s expression softened, and she gave a small nod. 
“i understand and i think she does too, but she’s scared, y/n. scared you’ll never forgive her.”
you took a deep breath, willing yourself to stay composed. 
“i’m not saying i wouldn’t. but it has to come from her. not you.”
lea studied you for a moment, then offered a small smile. 
“honestly, you’re a good person, y/n. she doesn’t deserve you, but if she gets the chance to explain herself, i think you’ll see she’s been trying to be better.”
you didn’t respond right away. part of you wanted to dismiss the entire conversation, to pretend it didn’t matter anymore. the truth was, it did. lena still mattered, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise.
“thank you, lea,” you said finally, your voice quiet. 
“for telling me.”
lea smiled again, this time with a hint of relief. 
“of course. and for what it’s worth, i think she’ll reach out. she just needs to find the courage.”
as she walked away, you stood there, the noise of the olympic village fading into the background. you weren’t sure how to feel… relieved? angry? hopeful? 
it started innocently enough—moments stolen between interviews and training sessions, quiet conversations that lingered long after they ended. obi was magnetic by a vulnerability she rarely showed to anyoen except for you. 
she made you laugh when you least expected it. over time, those stolen moments grew into something deeper. the teasing smiles turned into lingering glances, and the casual touches—her hand brushing yours, her knee pressed against yours under the table—became harder to ignore. 
usually, you were able to keep your professionalism for footballers, but lena made you feel ways that you didn’t feel for a very long time until that spring of 2023.
for lena, you were different. she had always been wary of letting anyone get too close, but with you, it felt effortless. you asked about her family, her dreams, the books she read when she needed to escape the noise of the world. however, you asked because you wanted to know– not because you needed something new to write about for an article. 
obi, in turn, wanted to know everything about you—your favorite coffee order, the places you dreamed of visiting, the stories you carried behind your composed demeanor as an interviewer. it scared her how much she wanted to know, how much she wanted to keep you close.
the nights you spent together weren’t just about the sex, though that was undeniable. it was about the quiet moments after, when lena would trace lazy circles on your skin as you talked about nothing and everything. 
it was in the way she’d insist on walking you back to your room, even when it was out of her way, or how she’d send you random texts during the day—pictures of the sky, a meme she thought you’d find funny, a simple compliment. 
it wasn’t just hooking up, not to either of you, even if neither of you said the words out loud.
the semifinal was here a week after lea and you talked. the united states against germany, again. 
you adjusted the strap of your bag, walking alongside matt and judah as you made your way to the front-row seats reserved for the media.
matt was mid-story, animatedly describing america’s pre-match routine as he holds judah’s hand. you’re set to interview lindsey horan after the match. your media company is collaborating with the united states to put out a documentary if the united states win the olympics. a contrast to being eliminated from the world cup a year before. 
matt was talking when suddenly stopped in his tracks. his hand reached out to grab your arm, his eyes wide. “y/n,” he said, his voice dropping in volume.
“don’t freak out, but... is that who I think it is?”
you followed his gaze, and the world seemed to tilt for a moment. lena. sitting in the crowd just a few rows behind where your seats were, her presence as sharp and overwhelming as a gust of icy wind. 
she was next to lea, who was also sidelined due to injury, both of them out of action yet here to support their team. lena’s leg was propped slightly to accommodate the brace on her knee—a harsh reminder of her recent acl surgery. 
your breath caught in your throat as her eyes locked onto yours. there was a softness in her gaze, an unreadable mix of intrigue and something else that made your chest ache. she smiled lightly, not quite coy but just enough to make you feel unsteady. 
beside her, lea glanced your way and offered a small, sympathetic smile that only twisted the knot forming in your stomach. 
“shit,” you murmured under your breath, quickly looking away and focusing on the crowd in front of you. your heart raced, a thrum so loud you were sure matt and judah could hear it. 
“are you okay?” matt asked, his tone cautious, concerned. 
“fine,” you said quickly, your voice tight. 
“just wasn’t expecting—her.”
“do you want to switch seats?” judah offered, ever the considerate one.
“no,” you said, shaking your head even as your hands trembled slightly. 
“it’s fine. i’ll deal with it.”
it didn’t feel fine. it felt like your chest was caving in, the air around you charged with tension. lena wasn’t supposed to be here. she was supposed to be in germany, recovering. why was she here, in france, sitting just a few rows behind you? 
you made your way to your seat, determined to ignore the weight of her presence. matt and judah settled on the left side of you, chatting about the potential lineup changes for both teams. its 0-0 in the 40th minute and its clear that both teams might need changes. you nodded along absently, your thoughts spinning in a dozen directions. you glanced at the pitch, and latched onto lindsey horan’s familiar figure. you reminded yourself that you were here for a reason. lindsey. you had a job to do.
it was impossible to shake the sensation that someone is looking at you. it crawled along your skin, pulling your attention until you couldn’t resist. you turned your head slightly, your gaze flicking over your shoulder—and there she was.
lena.
she wasn’t watching the game. the german’s eyes were on you, unflinching and intent, as if she were trying to read your every move. obi’s expression wasn’t smug or teasing; it was quieter than that, almost searching. 
beside her, lea was fully immersed in the match, cheering loudly as the germans pushed forward. however, lena’s focus was solely on you.
your stomach flipped, and you whipped your head back around, your pulse thundering in your ears. you clenched your hands into fists in your lap, willing yourself to calm down. the last thing you needed was to let lena see how much she still affected you. 
“she’s looking at you, isn’t she?” judah’s leaned in, his voice feminine but low enough that only you could hear.
you didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you just nodded slightly. judah sighed, his tone softening. 
“forget that she’s even there.”
easy for him to say. judah didn’t have the weight of months of unspoken words and unresolved feelings sitting just four rows behind him. of course he didn’t, neither judah or matt understood lesbian relationships.. or situationships. the married couple didn’t have to confront the ache of seeing someone who had disappeared from their lives without explanation.
you tried to watch the game and it worked for a while. as the minutes ticked by, you couldn’t help but wonder if this moment, this game, this crowd, was lena’s way of trying to find her way back into your life.
it was. 
the americans kicked out germany to secure their place in the gold or silver medal match as germany will fight spain for the bronze medal. you finished your interview with lindsey in record time. it helped that she was a close friend, making the questions flow naturally. 
after the camera crew packed up and moved away, lindsey squeezed your shoulder affectionately. 
“good luck with... whatever’s on your mind,” she said, her knowing smile hinting that she’d picked up on your unease before and after the interview. before you could respond, she jogged off to join her celebrating teammates, leaving you standing alone at the edge of the media zone.
then, you saw her.
lena was on crutches, moving slowly through the thinning crowd. the brace on her leg was unmistakable, but it was her eyes that made your chest tighten. she was looking right at you, determined, like she’d already decided this conversation was going to happen whether you wanted it to or not. 
you froze. part of you wanted to turn and walk away before she reached you. however, your feet could not move. your pulse quickened as she stopped in front of you, her presence commanding despite the vulnerability of her injury. 
“hi,” she said softly, her voice carrying an unfamiliar mix of nervousness and resolve.
you nodded, keeping your tone professional. 
“hi, lena. how’s the leg?”
her lips curved into a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. 
“it’s... getting there. rehab’s gonna be tough, but i’m managing.” 
you nodded again, the words sticking in your throat. 
“that’s good. um, do you want to—”
“no,” lena interrupted, her voice firm but not unkind. 
“don’t do that, y/n. don’t skip around what happened. we can’t just act like it didn’t exist.”
you blinked, caught off guard by her directness. 
“lena, i don’t think—”
“please,” she cut in, her tone softening as she adjusted her crutches to steady herself. 
“let me talk.”
you swallowed hard, nodding. she took a deep breath, her gaze unwavering as she began.
“i messed up,” she said, her voice low but steady.
“last summer... after the champions league final and the world cup, i was in a bad place. i felt like i’d failed at everything that mattered—my team, my country, my family, and you.” she paused, her brows knitting together. 
“i was embarrassed. i didn’t know how to face you because i thought you deserved better than the mess i was. so, i ran and that was the worst thing i could’ve done.”
obi’s words hit you like a wave, stirring up emotions you’d worked hard to bury. you opened your mouth to speak, but lena pressed on.
“i thought i needed space,” she continued. “and maybe i did, but i didn’t realize what i was losing until it was too late. until you were gone. and i’ve missed you, y/n. every day. not just what we had, but you. your laugh, the way you understood me even when i couldn’t find the words.” she paused, her voice catching. 
“i haven’t forgotten about you. not for one day.”
you looked away, trying to steady your breathing. “lena,” you began, your voice shaky. 
“do you have any idea how much that hurt? you just... disappeared. no explanation, no goodbye. i thought—i thought i didn’t matter to you.”
“you mattered,” she said quickly, her voice firm. 
“you still matter. i know i hurt you, and i’ll never forgive myself for that. but i’m here now, and i’m asking... can we start over? i have so much time on my hands now with this injury. time to make it right, if you’ll let me.”
you hesitated, the weight of her words settling over you. “maybe you should focus on your recovery,” you said finally, your tone careful. “that’s what’s most important right now.”
lena nodded, her expression serious. 
“i am. my therapist said part of my recovery is being honest with myself though and the truth is, i want you back in my life. not just as something casual. i want us to be official, when the time is right.”
obi’s words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. then, you nodded slowly. 
“i’ll be in munich when bayern plays their first champions league match,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. 
“we’ll see where things stand then.”
lena’s face broke into a smile—genuine, relieved, and filled with something you hadn’t seen in her for a long time: hope. “okay,” she said softly. “okay.”
she stepped closer, leaning down slightly despite the crutches to pull you into a hug. her arms wrapped around you tightly, and you felt her press a small, lingering kiss to the side of your head. it was grounding, familiar in a way that made your chest ache.
as she pulled back, she met your eyes again. “you can stay at my place in munich anytime,” she offered, her tone light but sincere. 
you gave her a small smile. 
“okay.”
just like that, the past felt smaller, less significant. the past did not exist anymore, since the future was all you and obi have. 
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