#takes all her strength to keep the pieces of her together

[querade]

who on the writers team created amelia shepherd? come here. come here. i've made you some hot chocolate and a nice couch full of people who love and support you. here, hug this pillow. <333. Thank you.

[mide404]

This is how my family has come to live a life resembling hell in the displacement camps. They live a life filled with misery and suffering after the war destroyed their simple home, which was filled with beautiful memories. Yes, now they live in a tent that you can barely see as a small enclosed spot, a torn life that bears nothing of its name, with continuous sorrow and pain hitting them constantly. The pieces of fabric surrounding the tent speak to narrate a new chapter from a book titled "Tragedy in the Land of Pain and Sorrows..."

Just by looking into my mother's eyes, you can see that all the world's calamities have been placed upon her head. It's as if life's circumstances conspired against my family to take away my father, the beacon of strength and support for them, and cruelly snatched my brother's daughter and my sister's daughter for no reason. Despite all that, these circumstances did not stop there and showed no mercy to what remained of my family but went on to demolish their home, which used to bring us together and held our simple memories.

Until they became homeless in the displacement camps that offer no mercy and do not provide the basic necessities of life, lacking in privacy, their world turned black when they found themselves displaced from their homes, sometimes wrapping themselves in hardship and at other times sipping on misery. They endure the harshness of life, living under the sun's heat, with nothing to protect them but a pile of junk. This has become their daily routine: waking up in the morning to stand in water lines to get the bare minimum of water, then striving to find a morsel of food until night falls, which was supposed to be a time of rest, but it seems life has written suffering upon them. As soon as they close their eyes, they wish they could keep one eye open, fearing the treachery of rodents that might attack them... This is part of the suffering my family endures in the displacement camps under oppressive conditions and an unparalleled tragic situation.

I, Mahmoud Saleh, appeal to you to look upon my torn and displaced family with mercy and grant them the opportunity to continue their lives in peace. I stand now before these compassionate hearts, full of hope to help what remains of my family and provide a better living condition for them, so they can enjoy safety and peace.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

My Missing Piece

616!Wanda x 199999!Fem!Reader

Summary: You've lost your wife Wanda. Leaving you alone with your twin boys to try and pick up the pieces. What happens when the Scarlet Witch comes looking for her boys?

Word Count: 10.4K

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, R calls W Mommy, W uses pet names, enchanted strap use, Dom!Wanda, sub!reader, overstimulation, magic restraints, depressive thoughts/episodes.

A/N: Made this forever ago and forgot about it until like two days ago lol. I really liked the idea of this so I hope you guys enjoy~ Also I decided that world 199999 (which was the original MCU world number before MoM turned it to 616) is just a parallel world where no one died :)

Every night after tucking my boys, Billy and Tommy in to bed, I have a bit of me time. Sometimes I watch TV, sometimes I'll scroll through social media on my phone, sometimes I'll write because I was told that was supposed to help with grief, it hasn't so far, what helps the most is when I talk to her before bed, "I miss you Wands...our boys miss you too...of course they love their Mama, but you're their Mommy. You carried them for nine months, you were in labor for just over a day." Tommy was born first 12 minutes ahead of his brother Billy. "You gave so much for our boys and our life here and I wish you had never said yes to that mission after all these years..." I break down, quiet sobs wrack me as I curl up on her side of the bed. It still smells like her.

I let sleep take me as I have the same dream I do every night. Wanda, but not Wanda...some twisted version of her with black fingers, and she just seems off, but she's searching, as if she can see me? She's looking for our boys. Every morning just as she finds me, us, I wake up. Dried tears on my cheeks and my eyes red. The bags under my eyes have never been darker, but I cover them up as I get out of bed to start yet another day without my wife.

The alarm blares through the quiet of the room, jolting me awake from my restless slumber. With a heavy sigh, I reach over to silence it, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Another day begins, much like every other since she left us.

I stumble out of bed, the weight of grief still heavy on my shoulders as I move through the motions of the morning routine. It's a struggle to keep it together, but I have to be strong for Billy and Tommy. They need me, even though every fiber of my being aches for her presence.

As I make my way downstairs, the memories flood back, hitting me like a tidal wave. Wanda was always the light in our lives, her laughter echoing through the halls, her warmth enveloping us like a comforting embrace. But now, there's only emptiness.

I try to push the thoughts aside as I prepare breakfast for the boys, forcing a smile as they bound into the kitchen, their youthful energy a stark contrast to my own weariness. They chatter excitedly about school and friends, oblivious to the pain that lingers beneath the surface.

After they've eaten and headed off to catch the bus, I sink into the solitude of the empty house once more. It's in these quiet moments that the ache is most palpable, the absence of her presence a constant reminder of all that we've lost.

I find myself drawn to her belongings, unable to resist the pull of her memory. Running my fingers over the familiar objects, I'm transported back to happier times, when our love felt invincible, untouchable by the darkness that now threatens to consume me.

But amidst the despair, there's a flicker of something else. A determination, a resolve to keep going, if not for myself then for her. She wouldn't want me to wallow in sorrow, to let the grief consume me. She'd want me to live, to cherish the memories we shared and find solace in the love that still remains.

With a deep breath, I push myself to my feet, wiping away the tears that threaten to fall. Today may be another struggle, another battle against the pain, but I refuse to let it defeat me. For Wanda, for our boys, I'll find the strength to carry on, one day at a time.

The day went by quickly and soon enough the boys were home filling up our home with noise once more,

"Boys homework first or no ice cream!" I call from the kitchen when I hear them start to fight over player one controller.

"Awww but Mama!" They whined.

"So you boys don't want ice cream tomorrow night either I see." I hear them grumble and then the TV go off, the sound of the dining room chairs scraping as I look over my shoulder to see they're working. "There are my good boys." I turn back smiling as I carry on with prepping dinner. Suddenly something feels off. A pit in my stomach starts forming and I feel eyes on me, not the boys though these feel predatory.

I look up and through the window I don't see my own reflection, I see Wanda, the same one I see in my dreams.

My heart leaps into my throat as I freeze, the knife in my hand forgotten as I stare wide-eyed at the impossible sight before me. It's her, but it's not. The twisted version from my nightmares, black fingers reaching out like tendrils of darkness, eyes filled with a hunger I can't comprehend.

I feel a chill run down my spine as her gaze locks onto mine, a shiver of fear coursing through my veins. Instinctively, I reach for the pendant hanging around my neck, fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the purple power stone embedded within. It's a comforting weight, a reminder of the power that pulses through me, but even it feels insignificant in the face of this apparition.

"What do you want?" I manage to choke out, my voice barely above a whisper. But she doesn't answer, only continues to stare, her presence suffocating in its intensity.

Desperation claws at the edges of my mind as I struggle to make sense of the situation. Is this some kind of illusion, a trick of the mind brought on by grief and exhaustion? Or is she truly here, some twisted echo of the woman I loved?

Before I can gather my thoughts, a sudden crash from the dining room snaps me back to reality. The boys, my precious boys, oblivious to the danger that lurks just beyond our walls. With a surge of adrenaline, I lunge forward, grabbing the nearest weapon within reach.

But as I turn back to face the window, she's gone, vanished into thin air like a wisp of smoke. The only evidence of her presence is the lingering sense of unease that hangs heavy in the air.

I rush to the dining room, relief flooding through me as I find the boys unharmed, their laughter filling the room once more. But even as I hold them close, a sense of dread lingers, a silent reminder that darkness still lurks just beyond the edges of our reality.

"Mama is everything okay?" Billy asks as I hold them, kissing the top of their heads.

"I just thought one of you got hurt. I'm happy you boys aren't." I lie to them as to not worry them, but Billy looks at me trying to search my thoughts. "Hey no mind reading little man." I ruffle his hair. "Everything is fine. If you boys are finished you can play one game, dinner will be ready in 15 minutes." The minutes tick by slowly as I finish preparing dinner, the aroma of comfort food filling the air. I glance at the clock, realizing that my boys are engrossed in their game, blissfully unaware of the turmoil swirling within me.

With a heavy sigh, I take a moment to compose myself before calling them to the table. As we gather for the meal, laughter and chatter resuming, I try to push the unsettling encounter out of my mind. But deep down, I know it's not over.

As we eat, the boys share stories from their day, their infectious joy momentarily easing the ache in my heart. I force a smile, savoring these small moments of normalcy in our fractured world.

After dinner, as the boys retreat to their rooms for the night, I find myself once again standing by the window, staring into the darkness beyond. The pit in my stomach returns, the unease settling in as I feel a presence lingering just out of sight.

The room is silent, save for the hum of the refrigerator and the distant sounds of the night. I close my eyes, summoning the courage to speak the words that linger on the tip of my tongue.

"Wanda, if you're out there, if you can hear me, please... don't hide. I don't know what's happening, but I can't face it alone. I need you, now more than ever." My voice trembles with a mix of desperation and longing.

The air remains still, the response elusive. I wait in silence, hoping for some sign, some reassurance that I'm not losing my mind. But the universe remains silent, withholding its secrets.

"Gods I feel like I'm going crazy Wands...how am I supposed to do this without you?" I feel the hot tears in my eyes, streak down my cheeks then suddenly a loud bang from the living room, the sound of a portal. "Stephan? Is that you?" It wasn't uncommon for Stephan Strange to pop in and check on me and the boys. Stephan had lost his love many years ago. Before I reach the living room, I hear the familiar sound of heels clicking on my hard wood flooring. Suddenly I'm standing face to face with the Wanda I've seen in my dreams...."W-Wands?" I questioned,

"A version. I've lost something precious to me and I've come to get it back." I look her over. It's Wanda, but not mine. As I get closer, Her hair is a different shade, her eyes are a little less of an emerald green and more of a sea green, this Wanda has a scar on her forehead, just above her left eyebrow.

"Oh...what has your universe done to you Detka?" I ask softly reaching out and she grabs my wrist with a force.

"It took everything from me." She seethed. "I want my boys back. I'm taking them." She tosses me aside like I'm nothing. Luckily with the power stone embedded in my chest. I push back, barreling back into her. Tackling her to the ground until I'm on top of her and it's then that she notices my stone, "You have the power stone...how? That's impossible. I've seen it kill people that touch it.

"I'm tough that's why my Wanda loved me." I had her pinned and used my own magic to subdue her. "I've been called the Violet Witch here for years. It became my code name."

"That can't be..." I give her a questioning look. "I'm the Scarlet Witch." She tells me, the scarlet witch? Wanda never said anything...? I stumble back off of her, reeling, "The Scarlet Witch." I let out a dry chuckle, "It makes sense, but I can't let you take my boys. If I loose them then That means I've lost my Wanda and them. I might as well die." I tell her,

"Wait so your Wanda is gone?" She asks. I nod,

"She was needed for a mission. I begged her not to go, we had retired from being Avengers 10 years ago when we found out she was pregnant. She told me everything would be fine. She promised me...and then suddenly I have Strange and Parker on my doorstep with Bucky and Sam behind them carry the casket." I feel my eyes blur as I walk over to the scarlet witch, "If you are another her then," I take her hands putting them up to my temples and ease my forehead onto her, letting my memories over the past ten years flood through her mind.

As our minds intertwine, I feel a rush of memories flooding into her consciousness. The love, the loss, the moments of joy and heartache that have shaped my existence since Wanda's departure. It's a whirlwind of emotions, a bittersweet symphony of love and grief that binds us together in ways I never thought possible.

For a moment, there's a flicker of recognition in her eyes, a glimmer of understanding amidst the chaos of her own turmoil. She sees the depth of my pain, the desperation to hold onto the fragments of a life that's slipping through my fingers.

But as quickly as it came, the moment passes, and she pulls away, her expression hardening once more. "I'm sorry for your loss," she says, her voice tinged with a hint of sympathy. "But my pain is just as real. I've lost everything too, and I'll do whatever it takes to reclaim what's mine."

I feel a pang of empathy for her, a shared sense of anguish that transcends the boundaries of our separate worlds. But beneath it all, there's a primal instinct, a fierce determination to protect my boys at all costs.

"I understand your pain," I reply, my voice steady despite the turmoil raging within. "But my boys are not yours to take. They belong here, with me, with their family."

She narrows her eyes, her resolve unwavering. "Then we're at an impasse," she says, her tone final. "I won't leave without them."

I take a step forward, meeting her gaze with steely determination. "Then I guess we'll just have to see who's stronger," I say, my voice echoing with a newfound resolve.

With that, the battle lines are drawn, two versions of Wanda Maximoff facing off against each other in a clash of wills and power. But amidst the chaos and uncertainty, one thing remains clear: no matter the outcome, I'll do whatever it takes to protect my boys and honor the memory of the woman I loved.

Her eyes meet mine, a mixture of pain and longing mirrored in their depths. The tear I wiped away lingers on her cheek, a testament to the shared sorrow we both carry. The silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken emotions, and for a moment, time seems to hang suspended.

"I... I don't know if I can stay," she whispers, her voice choked with emotion. "But the offer, it means more than you can imagine. In my world, everything has crumbled, and I'm left with nothing but ashes and echoes of what once was."

I can feel the weight of her words, the burden of her grief, and I tighten my grip on her cheek, desperate to convey the sincerity of my plea. "Wanda, you don't have to face this alone. You're not just a version of her; you're your own person, with your own pain. But here, in this universe, you have a chance to rebuild, to find a new kind of family."

She opens her eyes, the sea-green gaze locking onto mine. There's a vulnerability in her expression, a crack in the stoic facade she wears. "I'm so tired," she admits, a raw honesty in her voice. "Tired of loss, tired of fighting. Maybe... maybe it's time for a different path."

A tentative smile plays on her lips, and my heart skips a beat. I wipe away another tear, this time a tear of relief. "You don't have to decide now," I say softly. "Take the time you need. But know that here, you have people who care, people who understand loss and are willing to help you carry the burden."

The room seems to brighten, as if the weight of the universe has lifted, if only for a moment. And in that moment, I see a glimmer of hope, a possibility for healing and connection that transcends the boundaries of our fractured worlds.

"I need to know one thing." She speaks, "Is Vision alive?" my brows furrow together.

"Vision? Who is that?" I ask genuinely confused.

"Wait...how did we meet here?" She asks.

"Oh well we met in Sokovia. We were protesting Stark together at a rally. Your brother flirted with me first and I never let him live that down especially when I married you and he was my best man." I smile at the memory. "Anyways, we were approached by Hydra and experimented on. They had the mind stone and the power stone. You and Pietro were exposed to the mind stone and I was too, but nothing happened unlike you two so they put me in a room with the power stone. It decided my chest was it's forever home. I ended up breaking us out from the Hydra base with the help of the Avengers who had caught word of the base. The three of us joined the Avengers and the rest is history." I tell her.

"So no Ultron? Sokovia didn't fly in the air? What about the Sokovia accords?" She throws question after question.

"No idea what you're talking about love. We carried on doing small missions, taking down hydra and radicals, but the three of us spent a long time training before they let us out doing field work." I tell her.

"Three? Is...is Pietro..?" Her voice breaks.

"Alive? Yeah of course." She falls to her knees and starts sobbing.

"Mommy?" Billy is at the middle of the stairs and the look in Wanda's eyes.

"Yeah baby it's Mommy." Wanda opened her arms and the little speedster found his way into her arms." Her eyes spilling over tears.

"Mama said you weren't coming back." Billy whispered.

"Mama didn't think I was, but Mommy always finds a way back to her boys." Wanda pulls back and looks up at me. "I'm staying...how could I say no when this is just about the most perfect version I could ask for?" I smile and start crying again as Tommy joins us before I can even blink. "Our little quick silver." Wanda smiles hugging the boys, her boys.

Tears of relief blur my vision as I watch Wanda embrace our boys, her boys, with a tenderness that speaks volumes. Billy and Tommy cling to her, their small arms wrapping around her tightly as if afraid she'll disappear again if they let go. And in that moment, I realize that this is where she belongs, with us, her family.

I join them on the floor, wrapping my arms around them all, unable to contain the overwhelming flood of emotions that threatens to consume me. "Welcome home, Wanda," I whisper, my voice choked with tears.

She looks up at me, her eyes shining with gratitude and love. "Thank you," she says softly, her voice trembling with emotion. "For everything."

Together, we sit in the warmth of our embrace, a makeshift family forged from the ashes of our shared past. And as the night stretches on, I can't help but feel a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness, a belief that no matter what trials may come, as long as we have each other, we can weather any storm.

========================

The days blurred together in a haze of longing and uncertainty, each moment tinged with the ache of what could have been. Wanda's presence in our home was both a blessing and a curse, a constant reminder of the love I had lost and the impossibility of reclaiming what was once mine.

I watched her interact with the boys, her smile forced but genuine, her laughter a melody that echoed through the halls. And yet, beneath the surface, I could sense the weight of her own grief, the burden of a past that refused to let her go.

I tried to be strong, to be there for her and the boys, but every smile felt like a lie, every laugh a hollow echo of the joy we once shared. And in the darkness of the night, when sleep eluded me and the silence pressed in like a vice, I found myself haunted by memories of another Wanda, a version of her that existed only in my dreams.

She was so close, yet so far away, a phantom presence that taunted me with what could have been. I longed to reach out to her, to hold her close and whisper words of love and comfort. But she was gone, lost to me in a reality that no longer existed.

And so I forced myself out of bed each morning, steeling myself against the pain that threatened to consume me. I buried myself in the routines of daily life, seeking solace in the mundane tasks that kept me tethered to reality.

But no matter how hard I tried to push her memory away, she lingered in the shadows of my mind, a ghostly specter that refused to be forgotten. And as the days turned into weeks, I began to wonder if I would ever find peace, if I would ever be able to let go of the love that still bound me to her, even across the vast expanse of the multiverse.

My Wanda and I had always had a policy of no mind reading since we could both do it, but this Wanda pokes at my thoughts constantly. Reminds me to smile through telepathy. One morning after a really good dream with another Wanda I can't get myself out of bed. Everything is too much. I know I had told her I'd be fine, but I'm not.

"Come on Y/N. Time to get up." I turn away from her, curling up into a ball further. "Y/N? What's wrong?" She asks.

"Nothing just tired. Just tell the boys I don't feel good. I need a Mama's day. So they can have a Mommy day. Take them out, get them ice cream. Do whatever you want." I grumble.

"Okay..." I close my eyes, letting myself drift back off just needed to see her again.

I don't know how much time has past when I'm being woken up, "Detka...come on wake up." My eyes blink into focus as I look at Wanda sitting above me and smile, forgetting my reality for a moment before my smile drops.

"What?" I ask.

"I dropped the boys off with their uncle for the weekend." I sit up straight,

"You did what!?" I screech.

"I left them with Pietro for the weekend. He was more than happy to have a boys weekend. Something about taking them to the lake?" Wanda mentions.

"He takes them every summer, usually it's a family thing and we all go." I tell Wanda.

"Well I figured you needed a Mommy and me weekend. I want to take you out. I want to get to know you. I already know my boys, but you. You're different, new, you aren't like Vision. You're human." She cups my cheek, smiling and I know it's a genuine smile. "I'm sure you've been feeling neglected and I wanted to try and do this sooner, but the boys were too excited to have me back." She says as I lean into her touch, Gods how I missed her touch. Though her fingers were no longer black her nails seemed to permanently stay black which made me laugh as I compared it to her emo phase which apparently this Wanda had one too.

"Thank you," I whisper, my voice catching in my throat. "For understanding."

She smiles, a warmth in her eyes that belies the weight of her own pain. "We're in this together. You don't have to carry the burden alone."

With her words echoing in my mind, I find the strength to push myself out of bed, to face the day with renewed determination. Wanda's offer of a Mommy and me weekend is a lifeline, a chance to rediscover myself amidst the chaos of grief and longing.

As we spend the day together, exploring the city and sharing stories of our pasts, I feel a sense of peace settle over me, a reassurance that maybe, just maybe, there's still hope for a future filled with love and laughter.

And as the sun sets on our day together, I realize that while Wanda may not be my Wanda, she's still a beacon of light in the darkness, a reminder that even in our darkest moments, there's always someone willing to stand by our side, to offer a hand to hold and a shoulder to lean on.

With her by my side, I know that no matter what the future may hold, I'll never have to face it alone. And as we head home, the weight of grief feels a little lighter, the shadows a little less daunting, as we embrace the possibility of a new beginning, together.

When we got back home, I pulled her to the couch, "Time to watch sitcoms." I tell her and her face lights up.

"Dick Van Dyke?" She asks.

"No Detka. I want to show you my favorite this time. It's a more modern one. It's an animated sitcom though is that okay?" I ask, realizing this Wanda maybe never experienced animated and only enjoyed live action ones.

"Of course dorogoya." Her accent popping out sent a wave through me that landed between my legs.

"O-okay good." I say and get 'Bob's Burgers' playing. As the show starts I settle in with a slight distance between us, but she pulls me in against her side.

"Is this okay dorogoya?" She asks looking down at me.

"Y-yeah...of course." I move slight, readjusting to get comfortable as we fit together like two missing puzzle pieces and I let out a sigh of relief, that feels like so much weight is taken off my shoulders.

As the episodes of "Bob's Burgers" played on, I found myself relaxing into Wanda's embrace, the tension that had been coiled tight within me slowly unraveling with each passing moment. Her warmth seeped into my bones, a comforting presence that chased away the lingering shadows of doubt and fear.

With her by my side, the laughter that bubbled up from the screen felt genuine, a reflection of the newfound camaraderie we shared. And as I stole glances at her profile, illuminated by the soft glow of the television, I couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the moment, the simplicity of just being together.

Her laughter mingled with mine, the sound music to my ears, a symphony of joy that filled the room with warmth and light. And as the credits rolled on the final episode, I turned to her, a smile playing at the corners of my lips.

"Thank you," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "For today. For everything."

She returned my smile, her eyes shimmering with affection. "Anytime. I'm here for you, always."

I sat there staring at her, getting lost in her eyes so much that I don't even realize that she's leaning in until she's inches from my lips, she stops and I can feel her breath on me, my own hitching,

"Is this okay dorogoya?" She whispers in a husk against my lips.

"Y-yes." I manage out as she kisses me softly at first, testing the waters, but soon enough she's kissing hungrily, like she's starving for my taste now that's she's had a nibble. My fingers find their way into her hair, getting tangled in her auburn locks. One of her hands is on the back of my neck and the other is on my hip, gripping tightly, I can feel her nails digging in.

The world falls away as our lips meet in a fiery embrace, a collision of passion and longing that ignites every nerve ending in my body. Her kiss is intoxicating, a whirlwind of desire and need that sweeps me away in a tide of sensation.

I lose myself in the taste of her, the feel of her lips moving against mine with a hunger that mirrors my own. Our breath mingles in the space between us, hot and heavy with unspoken desire, as the intensity of our embrace grows with each passing moment.

Her hands are everywhere at once, trailing fire along my skin as she pulls me closer, her touch igniting a wildfire of sensation within me. I cling to her desperately, losing myself in the dizzying whirl of pleasure that consumes us both.

Time loses all meaning as we surrender to the passion that binds us together, lost in a world of our own making where nothing else matters but the fiery connection that burns between us.

And as we finally break apart, breathless and trembling, I find myself drowning in the depths of her gaze, a silent promise of more to come lingering in the air between us.

In that moment, I know that this is just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, passion, and endless possibility. And as we cling to each other in the aftermath of our shared passion, I can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected twist of fate that brought us together.

"Bed. Now." Her eyes lit up red for a moment. My Wanda had never been dominate, but this Wanda before me exuded dominance. I didn't waste any time getting up the stairs with her hot on my tail as we crashed into the bedroom, stumbling to the bed in a heat of kisses as she took the leading role.

The air crackled with electricity as we stumbled into the bedroom, our lips locked in a frenzy of passion and desire. Wanda's presence was intoxicating, her aura radiating power and dominance in a way I had never experienced before. And as she took the lead, pushing me onto the bed with a hunger that sent shivers down my spine, I felt myself surrendering to the raw intensity of the moment.

Her kisses were demanding, igniting a fire within me that burned hotter with each passing second. I moaned against her lips, my fingers tangling in her hair as I lost myself in the heat of the moment. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she explored every inch of my skin with a hunger that left me breathless.

With each caress, each whispered word of desire, I felt myself falling deeper under her spell, my body responding eagerly to her every touch. And as she claimed me as her own, I surrendered to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the ecstasy of our shared passion.

In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of pleasure and desire where nothing else mattered but the intoxicating connection that bound us together. And as we moved as one, bodies entwined in a symphony of passion, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.

The sensation of relinquishing control, of surrendering completely to someone else's will, was both exhilarating and liberating. As I basked in the warmth of Wanda's dominance, I found myself embracing a side of myself that I had long suppressed, a side that craved the thrill of submission and surrender.

With each touch, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the abyss of pleasure, my mind consumed by a haze of ecstasy that left me breathless and yearning for more. And as Wanda took the lead, guiding me with a firm yet gentle hand, I found myself surrendering to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the intoxicating dance of pleasure and desire.

In her arms, I felt safe, cherished, and utterly alive, my body responding eagerly to her every touch and caress. And as we moved together in a symphony of passion and desire, I embraced the freedom that came with letting go, allowing myself to be swept away by the currents of our shared passion.

For in that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful surrender where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as we surrendered to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with exploration, discovery, and boundless pleasure.

"Ah...Wands..." A smack hit my thigh making me jolt and yelp.

"That's not my name Detka." I feel my stomach flip. I call her this all the time. I have for years now, but never in this setting. Another smack and then her teeth find my skin, biting and sucking harshly, marking me.

"Mommy!" I can feel the smirk against my thigh.

"Good girl. Go on. Show me how needy you are baby girl." Her fingers find themselves between my folds as I move my hips against them.

The sensation of her touch sent shivers of pleasure coursing through me, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment. I arched my back, pressing against her fingers as they explored the depths of my desire, teasing and tantalizing with a skill that left me trembling with need.

"Please," I whimpered, the word spilling from my lips in a desperate plea for more. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she pushed me to the brink of ecstasy.

With each caress, each stroke, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the intensity of our shared passion. And as she whispered words of encouragement, urging me to let go and surrender to the pleasure that awaited, I felt myself surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.

In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as I succumbed to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.

The sensation of Wanda's magic enveloping my wrists sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through me, a tangible reminder of her power and dominance. I tested the restraints, feeling the firm hold of her magic as it kept me securely in place, my heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and arousal.

"Safe word. Green, yellow, red. Green is keep going, yellow slow down, red is stop." Wanda husked.

"Green, yellow, red," I echoed, committing the safe words to memory as a reassurance of our mutual trust and consent. With each breath, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the heady haze of pleasure, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.

As Wanda continued to explore my body with a skillful touch that left me trembling with need, I surrendered myself to the ecstasy of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.

And as the intensity of our passion grew with each passing moment, I found myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our connection. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.

I don't think there is a place she hasn't marked on me in some way and after hours of edging until I couldn't form sentences she finally let me release. A string of moans ripping through me as the most intense waves roll over me as I drown in them, covered in sweat and her marks.

As the waves of pleasure washed over me, leaving me trembling and spent, I basked in the afterglow of our shared passion, my body still tingling with the echoes of our ecstasy. But just when I thought the intensity had peaked, I felt something pressing against my entrance, a sensation that sent a jolt of anticipation coursing through me.

I gasped, my body instinctively tensing as Wanda's touch ignited a new wave of desire within me. Her fingers teased and tantalized, exploring the depths of my desire with a skill that left me breathless and eager for more.

With each gentle thrust, I felt myself opening up to her, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation. The pleasure was exquisite, a symphony of ecstasy that echoed through every fiber of my being as I lost myself in the blissful abandon of our shared desire.

And as Wanda continued to guide me with a firm yet gentle hand, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our connection, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.

Wanda soon enough needed more and so did I, "Faster...ha-ah...harder..." My breath hot against her, panting like a dog and that gave her the perfect opportunity to place her fingers in my mouth, gaging me with them, but I loved every second as I sucked on them, moaning against them as I tasted myself on them from earlier.

The sensation of Wanda's fingers in my mouth sent a thrill of arousal coursing through me, a heady mixture of pleasure and desire that left me panting and eager for more. With each thrust, each gasp of pleasure, I eagerly sucked on her fingers, tasting myself on them from earlier.

The taste was intoxicating, a symphony of desire that heightened the intensity of our connection as we moved together in perfect harmony. And as Wanda responded to my pleas with a fervor that mirrored my own, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.

With each thrust, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our passion. And as we reached the peak of ecstasy together, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.

In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire. And as we surrendered ourselves to the ecstasy of our connection, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.

As I slowly regained my senses, the cool towel on the back of my neck and Wanda's comforting presence helped anchor me in reality. Her magic gently caressed my mind, offering reassurance and care as I took in the aftermath of our intense encounter.

"Easy, Detka. You're okay," she murmured, and I found solace in the warmth of her embrace. I took the offered water bottle, sipping slowly as she continued to tend to my well-being. The realization that I had passed out from pleasure left me both surprised and amused.

"Thats never happened before," I admitted with a chuckle. "The other Wanda was more of a sub, so I was usually the one in control. Not that I didn't enjoy it, but being on the receiving end is a whole different experience."

Wanda's magic fetched a baggy shirt, and as I recognized it, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. It was a shirt from a concert we attended when we were sixteen, a tangible link to our shared past.

"It's good to know not everything is different," I remarked, smiling as she kissed my temple.

In the warmth of our makeshift cocoon, surrounded by blankets and pillows, Wanda's magic weaving a protective barrier around us, we continued to watch 'Bob's Burgers.' However, my focus was no longer on the show; instead, I found myself captivated by the woman holding me close.

A sudden wave of fear and doubt crashed over me as I wondered if this intimate encounter was just a one-time gesture to alleviate my grief. The fear of being tossed aside after a momentary respite haunted my thoughts, threatening to overshadow the joy we had just shared.

Wanda, sensing my internal struggle, gently addressed my concerns. "Hey, woah, Detka. Those thoughts of yours are the farthest thing from the truth. Do not listen to them. I would never do that to my soulmate," she reassured me, her forehead finding mine in a tender gesture of connection.

"I love you, Y/N," she confessed, her words washing away my fears and opening the floodgates to a cascade of happy tears. "I love you, Wands! I didn't think I'd ever get to hear you say those words to me again," I admitted, clinging to her shirt as I sobbed into her.

Wanda's promises echoed in my heart, a vow to cherish and reaffirm our love every day. She kissed away my tears, each tender touch a testament to the depth of her commitment. "I promise I'm going to say it every chance I get. I'm never going to stop. I'm going to remind you every day how beautiful you are and how much I love you, and I promise I'm never going to leave. No missions. Nothing like that. I'll always be by your side," she declared, her own tears mingling with mine.

In that moment, as we drowned in each other's love, I knew that this second chance at happiness was a gift we would both cherish. And as Wanda whispered, "I love you," over and over, I felt the weight of my grief lifting, replaced by the warmth of a love that transcended time and space.

========

In the midst of my peaceful dream, I found myself enveloped in a sense of tranquility unlike any I had experienced in well over a year. Waking up with a smile on my face I turn my head, looking over I gazed upon the sleeping form of Wanda, her features softened by the gentle embrace of slumber, I felt a rush of overwhelming love and affection welling up within me.

With a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips, I leaned in closer, pressing gentle kisses along the curve of her neck. Each tender touch elicited a soft moan from her lips, a melody of pleasure that echoed through the stillness of the night.

Lost in the intoxicating embrace of our shared intimacy, I continued to shower her with affection, reveling in the warmth of her presence and the depth of our connection. And as I whispered her name, a soft murmur of adoration, I knew that this moment, this fleeting glimpse of happiness, was a treasure to be cherished for all eternity.

As Wanda began to stir awake, her voice still heavy with sleep, I couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for her. Her words, though tinged with a hint of warning, only served to deepen the bond between us.

"You're playing a dangerous game, kotenok," she murmured, her voice laced with sleepiness.

"Shchenok," I corrected gently, a small smile playing on my lips.

Her eyes snapped open at the correction, surprise evident in her expression. "When did you learn that?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

I shrugged, the memories of our shared past flooding back to me. "I was with her for like 20 years of our lives. I learned most Russian. Also Natasha, she..." My voice trailed off as Wanda's expression shifted, a wave of sadness washing over her.

"Oh my god, I forgot about Natasha. Is... is she alive here?" she asked, tears welling up in her eyes.

I nodded solemnly, feeling a pang of empathy for the pain she must be feeling. Crawling into her lap, I wrapped my arms around her, offering what comfort I could. "You really lost a lot there, dorogoya," I whispered, my voice soft with compassion. "But don't worry, everyone here is safe. We've apparently had it relatively easy here, it seems."

I pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, my heart overflowing with love and gratitude for this woman who had endured so much. "Now you have your loved ones back. You aren't alone anymore, and you won't ever be again. I promise."

==============

As the weekend unfolded, Wanda and I remained entwined in each other's arms, our connection deepening with each passing moment. When the boys returned home with their uncle Pietro, the atmosphere was filled with warmth and affection, a tangible sense of family that enveloped us all.

Pietro's hug was tight, filled with an unspoken understanding that transcended words. In his whispered question, "Did you guys finally connect?" I detected a mixture of curiosity and genuine concern.

With a small nod and a soft "Mmhmm," I confirmed what he already knew. This Wanda wasn't his real sister, just as she wasn't the Wanda I had known and loved for decades. But she was here, she was special, and in her embrace, I found a sense of solace and belonging that I had thought lost forever.

==============

As the following Friday arrived, Wanda and I made the decision to gather our friends and family together to share the details of our new lives. It was a momentous occasion, filled with a mix of anticipation and apprehension as we prepared to unveil the truth about our extraordinary circumstances.

Gathering our loved ones in a familiar setting, we began to recount the events that had led us to this moment, explaining the complexities of our intertwined destinies and the newfound connections we had forged. With each word, we sought to convey the depth of our emotions, the challenges we had overcome, and the hope that now burned bright within our hearts.

As our gathering unfolded, the emotions in the room were palpable, each hug and embrace a testament to the depth of our shared experiences and the bonds that bound us together.

Wanda's first instinct was to embrace Natasha tightly, their bodies trembling with sobs as they clung to each other. For both of them, it was a moment of overwhelming relief and joy, the realization that they had been given a second chance to be reunited with someone they had feared lost forever.

Next was Clint, the stalwart friend and ally who had saved Wanda countless times in her timeline, offering comfort and support when she needed it most. As they embraced, the weight of their shared history hung heavy in the air, a reminder of the trials they had faced and the strength they had found in each other's presence.

In that moment, surrounded by friends and family who had become like kin, Wanda and I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the bonds that had been forged through adversity. And as we shared stories and memories, laughter mingling with tears, we knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, drawing strength from the love and support that surrounded us.

As our friends and family listened intently, their expressions shifting from surprise to understanding, we felt a sense of relief wash over us. To have our loved ones by our side, supporting us through this journey, was a gift beyond measure.

And as we concluded our explanation, surrounded by the warmth and love of those closest to us, we knew that no matter what the future held, we would face it together, united in our shared bond and unwavering commitment to one another.

As the night wore on and the festivities continued, Stephen pulled me aside, his expression grave with concern. "You know what she's done in her universe, right?" he asked, his voice tinged with urgency.

I bristled at his question, feeling a surge of defensiveness rise within me. "Do not start this, Strange," I warned, jabbing a finger in his direction. "If I had gone through what she had, this universe wouldn't even exist. What she did, in my eyes, is child's play compared to the horrors she endured."

My words carried a weight of conviction, a steadfast belief in Wanda's resilience and the sacrifices she had made to protect those she loved. And as I met Stephen's gaze, I saw a flicker of understanding in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the depth of Wanda's strength and the magnitude of her courage.

"She threw a tantrum essentially. Took over a town for a bit and then went on a killing spree to get here. I saw it through her eyes. I know if it had been me, you'd be lucky if America had still been standing," I asserted, a hint of steel in my voice as I tapped the power stone embedded in my chest.

The reminder of the immense power at my disposal served as both a warning and a declaration. Wanda's actions in her universe were a testament to the depths of her grief and the consequences of unchecked power. In contrast, I recognized the responsibility that came with wielding such force, a responsibility I vowed to use wisely to protect those I loved.

As the weight of our conversation lingered, Stephen nodded in acknowledgment, a silent understanding passing between us. The night continued, but the specter of the past and the potential for the future hung in the air, a reminder that even in moments of celebration, the shadows of our pasts were never truly far behind.

"I don't think you understand, my strength isn't superhuman, it's otherworldly. The precision it requires to ensure I don't break everything around me at any given moment is a delicate balance. With one punch, I wouldn't just put a crater in the earth, I'd break it in half," I emphasized, underscoring the magnitude of the power I possessed.

The distinction between superhuman strength and the cosmic force I wielded was crucial to grasp. While others might possess extraordinary abilities, mine was on a different scale altogether, capable of reshaping the very fabric of reality itself. It was a responsibility that weighed heavily on me, requiring a level of control and restraint beyond what most could comprehend.

As I spoke, I could sense the gravity of my words sinking in, the realization dawning on Stephen of the immense power at my command. It was a sobering reminder of the delicate balance between strength and responsibility, a balance that I vowed to uphold no matter the cost.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, I just wanted to remind you-" Stephen began, but I swiftly cut him off, my tone firm yet understanding. "Don't, Stephen. I know you're just trying to help. I don't need the reminder though," I assured him, acknowledging his concern while asserting my own understanding of the situation.

With a nod of acceptance, Stephen backed off, respecting my boundaries and allowing me to return to the comforting embrace of Wanda, who had been engaged in conversation with Natasha and Clint. As I settled back into her arms, the warmth of her presence enveloped me, a reassuring reminder of the love and support that surrounded me.

In that moment, surrounded by friends and family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me, a quiet reassurance that no matter the challenges we faced, we would face them together, united in our shared bonds and unwavering commitment to one another.

As Wanda continued her conversation with Natasha and Clint, her fingers traced delicate patterns on my hip, their touch a gentle caress that spoke volumes of the journey she had undertaken. Once stained with blood, those same hands now exuded a tenderness and compassion that belied the darkness of the past.

Feeling the soothing rhythm of her touch, I couldn't help but marvel at the transformation Wanda had undergone, the evolution from a place of pain and turmoil to one of healing and redemption. It was a testament to her resilience and strength, a reminder that even in the face of adversity, it was possible to find light amidst the shadows.

In that moment, as her touch danced across my skin, I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the woman before me, for the love and forgiveness she had extended, and for the hope that now blossomed within our hearts. And as our conversation continued, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, bound by the unbreakable bond of love and understanding that had brought us to this moment.

As the room suddenly filled with the energetic presence of our children, along with Clint's youngest and Kate close behind, my boys bounded into mine and Wanda's arms with cries for help. "Moms! Save us from the monster!" they pleaded, their laughter filling the air.

I chuckled as I gathered them close, feeling their warmth and energy envelop me in a comforting embrace. Glancing over, I caught sight of Kate playfully tickling Nathaniel, the mischievous grin on her face confirming my suspicions.

With a smile, I joined Wanda in rescuing our boys from the clutches of the imaginary monster, enveloping them in hugs and laughter as we reveled in the joy of family and friendship. In that moment, surrounded by the ones we loved most, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the blessings that filled our lives, each smile and laugh a reminder of the happiness that awaited us in the days to come.

As the boys began to drift off to sleep in my arms, I couldn't help but smile at the sight. "I think it's time to go, my love," I murmured to Wanda, gesturing towards our sleeping sons. Despite their ten years, I scooped them up effortlessly, their weight feeling light in my arms.

A momentary look of surprise flickered across Wanda's face, her gaze lingering on me as she seemed to momentarily forget about my strength. At just 4'11, I was indeed petite for someone with such power, a fact that often caught others off guard.

With a soft chuckle, I gently adjusted the boys in my arms, their peaceful expressions a testament to the love and security they felt in our embrace. As we prepared to leave, I felt a surge of gratitude for the family we had become, bound together by love and the unbreakable bond of kinship. With Wanda by my side, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our shared love and determination to protect those we held dear.

As I glanced over at Wanda, watching the tender expression on her face as she looked upon our sleeping sons, my heart swelled with love and gratitude. The depth of emotion reflected in her eyes filled me with a sense of warmth and contentment, knowing that our family was complete and our bond unbreakable.

In that moment, as we stood together, surrounded by the quiet stillness of the night, I felt a profound sense of peace wash over me. The love that radiated between us and enveloped our children was a testament to the strength of our connection, a bond forged in the fires of adversity and tempered by the trials we had faced together.

As we prepared to depart, I reached out to take Wanda's hand, intertwining our fingers in a silent gesture of unity and love. With a shared smile, we turned and made our way home, our hearts full and our spirits lifted by the knowledge that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, as a family.

===========

Wanda and I are on the couch when she asks, "Do you have photo albums of the boys?" I look at her, peeling my eyes from the TV as I pause it.

"Of course." I get up grabbing several albums of almost everything of their lives. "After we left the Avengers I took solace in capturing moments so we have a lot." I tell her as she starts through her pregnancy photos one of every month. Then the hospital photos of her giving birth. The look of pure happiness and bliss on both our faces as we held the boys. Both of us having skin to skin contact with them. As Wanda goes through the albums she starts crying.

"I missed out on so much because of my magic..." she whispered solemnly. "They went from babies, to 5, to 10 all because of words I said...Y/N...I missed everything." Knowing that Wanda had used her magic to create our boys in her universe and not anything like how we had here made her incredibly sad. I hate seeing her like this.

"How about I show you. Their first words, their first steps, everything." With a gentle touch, I leaned in closer to her, resting my forehead against hers as I offered her a silent gesture of comfort and solidarity. Feeling her fingers against my temples, I closed my eyes and allowed the memories to flow, every precious moment from the joyous announcement of her pregnancy to the bittersweet final days we shared together playing out before her.

As the memories unfolded like a vivid tapestry, I watched as Wanda's tears began to subside, replaced by a sense of wonder and awe. Through the magic of our shared recollections, she was able to witness the milestones she had missed, the laughter and love that had filled our home in her absence.

In that moment, as we shared in the memories of our past, I felt a renewed sense of hope blossom within me. Though Wanda may have missed out on so much, I was determined to make every moment from this point forward count, to cherish the time we had together and to create new memories that would fill the void left by the past.

With a gentle smile, I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close as we basked in the warmth of our shared love. And as the echoes of our memories faded into the night, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our unwavering commitment to one another and to our family.

As I looked into Wanda's eyes, feeling the weight of her sadness and longing, I knew that I had to do everything in my power to ease her pain and make up for the lost time. With a gentle touch, I cupped her cheek in my hand, my thumb brushing away the tears that lingered there.

"Everything with them feels too quick and also a lifetime," I whispered softly, my heart swelling with love and determination. "But now that you're here with us, you'll get to experience it all with me. Together."

In that moment, as we shared in our shared resolve to embrace the present and forge ahead as a family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. No matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our love and commitment to one another.

With a tender smile, I leaned in to press a gentle kiss against Wanda's forehead, silently promising to cherish every moment we shared and to make up for the lost time in any way I could. Together, we would build a future filled with love, laughter, and endless memories, united in our bond as a family.

Once we put the albums away, shut the TV off for the night we headed upstairs. Stopping to look in at the boys sleeping peacefully before heading to our own room, getting ourselves ready for bed. As I climb in, stretching out, Wanda climbs on top of me. I bite my bottom lip, looking up at her. I can see the look she has. I wrap my arms around her neck, gently trying to pull her down. She doesn't budge.

"Did you want something, shchenok?" Between the look in her eyes, the sound of her voice, and her in just a tank top of sleep shorts I'm weak to her completely under her not just physically.

"Want you. Need you." I tell her trying again to pull and when she still doesn't budge. I pout and whine. "Wands...please.."

As Wanda's hands worked their magic, binding mine above my head with a delicate yet firm touch, I felt a rush of excitement and anticipation coursing through me. With each tug of her magic, I was rendered powerless, completely at her mercy as she explored my body with a hunger that ignited a fire within me.

"Behave and we'll see where it goes," she husked, her words sending shivers down my spine as she pushed up my shirt, her lips finding purchase on my chest with an intensity that left me breathless. The sensation of her teeth grazing my skin, her tongue tracing patterns across my flesh, sent waves of pleasure radiating through me, making me squirm and writhe beneath her touch.

As I felt myself slipping deeper into subspace, surrendering to the heady mix of pleasure and vulnerability, I couldn't help but lose myself in the moment, giving in completely to the sensations that engulfed me. With each kiss, each caress, I felt myself unraveling, consumed by the overwhelming desire that burned between us.

In that moment, as I surrendered myself to Wanda's tender ministrations, I felt a profound sense of connection and intimacy that transcended the physical realm. With her by my side, I knew that I was safe, cherished, and loved beyond measure, and as I surrendered to the ecstasy of the moment, I knew that our bond would only grow stronger with each passing day.

Wanda plays with me and teases me for hours and I can't even remember how many times she's pushed me over the edge of ecstasy. As she brought me to another one as she slammed into me with a magic strap-on she'd conjured up, my mind already drowning in subspace, barely able to form words, but one slips out and then a few more,

"Mommy...gonna...ah-ha...ah..." After my words she sped up leaning down to whisper in my ear,

"That's right cum for Mommy like a good girl. Mommy's gonna cum with you. Gonna fill you up and breed you baby girl." As she whispered those final words in my ear, her voice a husky growl of lust and desire, I felt myself shattering into a million pieces, my entire being consumed by the ecstasy of release. With a cry of pure ecstasy, I let myself fall over the edge, my body trembling with the force of my climax as I surrendered myself entirely to the pleasure that engulfed me. Feeling her fill me up completely made my eyes roll back and the only word I could comprehend was, “Mommy.”

In that moment, as I basked in the afterglow of our shared ecstasy, I knew that I was exactly where I belonged, wrapped in the arms of the woman I loved more than anything in the world.

Taglist: @dorabledewdroop

[lostalioth]

𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬

→ premise: you were just so pretty and so much smaller than your boys how could they not love it? though they’ve seemed to take notice of just how much you love it

→ pairing: steve rogers x fem!reader x bucky barnes

→ warnings: smut | 18+, size kink [reader is described as smaller/weaker in the sense of them being super soliders and stronger more muscles etc.][im also not that good at writing size kink so just squint a bit], body worship, dumbification, nicknames [little one, dumb baby, baby], oral [f receiving], creampie [only 1 i was gonna have them both do it but]

→ a/n: 01 kinktober

It was very hard for your boys to keep their hands to themselves around you, they were both very possessive after all but they knew you loved it. They noticed the way your thighs clenched when they stood tall behind you, presence big and looming as their large hands both snake around each side of your waist. Their stares and presence are enough to make the guy talking to you back off. They hear the small lustful gasp that leaves your lips when one of them manhandles you picking you up to place you out of their way. They were more in tune and hyper aware of every motion and sound you made than you'd like sometimes. They could catch on to things you like before even you could. Such as that you really really enjoyed just how much bigger and stronger they were than you.

It had been a couple days of a long mission where the three of you simply didn't have the time or space for many intimate moments, that was until you finally got back home. You're in the middle of a conversation with Sam before suddenly you're swept off your feet by Steve.

With a short startled scream you're thrown over one of his broad shoulders. “Hey i was in the middle of a conversation, you know” you whine and ignore the ache that begins to settle in your core at the action. You smack Steve's muscular back in an attempt of telling him to let you go, with the one hand that was holding your waist still he lets go quickly to smack your ass. You squeal and shut your mouth fast as arousal replaces all confusion and frustration. Steve's other hand that's gripping the back of your thigh squeezes a bit harder around the plush skin. You watch Bucky not far behind you two as Steve carries you to our shared bedroom. A small but seductive and taunting grin plastered across the brunette's face. He watches with amusement as your eyes glaze over, practically seeing you begin to sink into sub space already.

“Wish you could see her face rn, shes turning into our dumb little baby already thinking of all the things we’ll do to her” Bucky's deep voice breaks you for your train of thought before you sink right back away and the rest is a blur until your sat on your large soft king size bed, ass nestled into steves lap and your facing bucky whos sat in front of you.

“We missed your body little one” Steve whispers, coming out desperate and soft, breath hot the back of your neck as Bucky tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and resting his big calloused hand on your face. “Your perfect little body is all we ever need baby” Bucks voice is a stark difference to the blondes as his comes out husky and deep. You gasp as bucky's cold metal fingers find their way under your shirt inching towards your bare chest.

You couldn't be bothered to put a bra on for the long and uncomfortable trip home and you've never been more grateful for one of your decisions til this moment. His thumb brushes across your already hardening nipple at the same time that Steve begins leaving sloppy kisses on the back of your neck making his way to that sweet spot behind your ear. Your breath hitches in your throat as you squeeze your thighs together but steves warm hand slides between them spreading them apart. You whimper softly at the strength.

“We wanna worship that pussy baby don't hide it little one” Steve mumbles against your neck as he starts to unbutton your pants with one hand and push them down with your panties.

The boys move fast to discard the rest of your clothes as well as their own and their lips are back all over your body, kissing, marking, licking every inch of skin that they can.

You're now propped up against the headboard, a pillow behind your back and one under your hips. Bucky has one leg pinned and Steve has the other so your legs are spread, throbbing cunt on full display for them. Their strength while forcing your legs open causes your arousal to leak down your pussy and ass soaking the pillow under you as you squirm a bit in impatience.

“Look at our pretty little dumb baby Buck so needy, you want our mouths baby?” Steve asks in a soft yet taunting voice that has your head going hazy again. You nod yes eagerly and whine as the blonde and brunette hovered their mouths over where you needed them most. A small chuckle leaves Bucky's lips before he is quick to slide two of his thick warm fingers through your slick, spreading it over your puffy folds. The small gasp leaving your parted lips turning into a louder one the second his fingers slip inside you and are fast to find that spot only your boys could. Steve, not far behind Bucky in action, leans closer and starts to slowly flick your clit with his tongue, teasing you by slowly licking shapes over your aching clit. Your thighs twitch and on instinct your legs attempt to shut from the overwhelming pleasure, the pressure building embarrassingly fast in the pit of your stomach.

“You gonna cum already little one? Keep these fucking legs open and cum on Bucks fingers, come on dumb baby” Steve groans against your pussy as he moves his attention back to your clit, sucking it sloppy and hard. Steve's hands grip your inner thighs hard and push your legs away from his head and Bucky pins one knee down to the bed with his free hand. “Cum on my fingers baby then you can get filled with our cocks you miss that dont ya’ little one” Bucky chuckled and watched as you squirm and whine when he starts slowly and teasing stroking his hard cock giving you the perfect view.

With a gasp and fingers threading through Steve's dirty blonde hair and pulling you cum hard on Bucky's fingers. You feel Steve smile against your clit as your chest rises and falls, catching your breath.

Bucky having other plans however the minute Steve pulls away from your clit is smacking his red leaking tip against your abused bud and slamming inside you. Your eyes glaze over and their voices fade as pleasure and overstimulation take over your body. A wanton moan fills the boy's ears causing them to smile as Bucky's thrusts are hard and fast. He's been pent up for days and your walls clenching around his thick cock is a heavenly feeling he desperately missed.

Your eyes fall shut but snapback open fast when Steve is gripping your cheeks squeezing them lightly, you whine, his rough hand making your face seem so small. “Eyes on us baby got it? Look at Buck as he fucks this gorgeous cunt yeah?” He questions and smacks your clit before you can answer, making you clench down harder on buck. “Yes! Mhm mhm!” You nod and hum in response, not being able to form enough words.

The brunette groaning loud and grabbing your hips hard to plow into you even harder. He was so big it was easy for him to manipulate you. “Fuck you’re already gonna make me come little one” his head falls back as he lets pleasure wash over him. He thrusts one last time filling you to the hilt as thick hot ropes of cum fill you up. Your mind goes blank again and before you can register their voices again, Steve's hands are grabbing onto your hips and lifting you into his lap.

“Shes already so fucked out aww well too bad baby i need to be inside you so fuckin’ bad missed it just as much as buck did” Steves voice is ringing in your ears but before you can form an answer he is lfting you up again to slide down onto his cock. “Ah! Fuck steve” you whine and yet still press your hips down to take him inside. “Look at you trying to complain baby you love it when we manhandle you, didn't think we noticed huh?” Bucky taunts and grabs a fist full of your hair to pull your head back so he can kiss you hungrily. You kiss back passionatly with a goofy smile on your face that fades into a lust filled one once steve starts to fuck up into you, hands still grabbing onto your now probaly bruised hips.

You moan against Bucky's lips, head hazy but happy thinking of how well they will take care of you after this. They may manhandle you and be much stronger than you but they could be big teddy bears when it came to aftercare.

→ a/n: this is only my second time writing stucky so i hope its as good as my first one that everyone loved but :) also this was meant to go up yesterday im not doing 31 days im doing 18 im posting a fic every saturday, sunday, tuesday, and thursday but i got busy yesterday and this wasnt proof read too well so im sorry and i rushed the ending to get it out td.

[dead-boys-club]

†  what do you want? : the fatui.

❥ scenario: answering a simple question. ❥ no triggers ❥ i don't have any beta readers - you get what you get. ❥ taglist: @mimis-happiest-day

"what do you want from me?" the words slip out, trembling in the cold. your voice is barely louder than a whisper, as if the weight of the question itself could shatter the silence around you. they stare back—each gaze colder or hotter, more calculating or more devouring than the last. whatever their answers, you know the fatui don’t give anything freely.

❥ arlecchino.

her gaze remained sharp as you stared at her, cutting through you like glass. "what do i want?" she repeated, almost mocking, but there's a softness - she thought over your words. "everything," she finally says, her hand reaching to trace over your jaw with the tip of her nails. "your loyalty, your strength, your heart. and, only if you're strong enough, your soul." her words are both a demand and devotion, the only way she would deliver them.

❥ dottore.

he chuckles, the sound low and unhinged. "what do i want?" he purrs in amusement. he takes your hand to hold it open, his thumb rested against your pulse. "to see what makes you tick, of course. to pull you apart, piece by piece - and then, perhaps, if you're good.." he trails off for a moment, his smile mischievous. "i'll put you back together, better than you ever were."

❥ childe.

he grins, a mischievous glint to his eyes. "what do i want? hm.." he echoes, moving closer, voice playful but laced with a surprising depth. "i want everything you've got - every laugh, every secret, every scar." his hand finds yours, fingers threading between your own. :i want to fight beside you, protect you, and maybe.. just maybe, find another reason to stop fighting."

❥ pantalone.

his smile is knowing as it forms, eyes shining with something dark and calculating. "ah, my dear, you know very well what i want." he steps closer, fingers finding your cheek, his gaze holding a weight you couldn't name. "loyalty, love - such beautiful words." his hand lingers a beat too long. "but, what i truly want.. is to see how far you'll go for me."

❥ signora.

her gaze is fierce as always, though tempered by something gentler, softer than her usual demeanor. "what do i want?' her voice is barely audible and she pauses, eyeing you closely. "i want to burn the world down, watch it all turn to ash - with you by my side. you're the one spark i never expected," she adds, a rare smile gracing her lips. ❥ scaramouche.

he scoffs, arms crossing in his usual fashion, acting like your question offends him. his tone is biting and mocking as he repeats your question. "i want you to stop asking stupid questions." but he looks away, letting out a deep sigh, annoyed. "you should know by now.. i wouldn't keep you around if i didn't think you were important."

❥ columbina.

her smile is serene, unsettling so, as if she sees far beyond you. "what do i want?" she hums, thinking over the answers as her fingers dance against your shoulder. "i want you, my songbird. to sing for me, to shatter the silence. most of all.." her voice drops, becoming a whisper, like the next words were a deep secret. "i want you to stay, forever bound to this melody only we share."

❥ pierro.

his gaze is unreadable, maybe solemn if you had to choose a word, carrying to weight of worlds and beyond. he repeats your words, considering the question. "loyalty. strength. is that not what everyone wants? but with you.." his hand fingers your shoulder, steadying and grounding you both. "i want.. peace." there's a softness to his voice, a rare vulnerability that you deemed impossible. "stay besides me, and let us carve a legacy that will never be forgotten."

❥ sandrone.

her head tilts, observing you with an eerie, calculating gaze. she always looked at you as if you were a piece of her collection. she repeats the words, quiet and detached, in a way that made you feel like she didn't quite understand. "i want you to stay perfectly still, exactly as you are. i've never been fond of things that break too easily." he fingers lift, tracing your cheek bone, a possessive, chilling touch. "for you, i might make an exception. just don't disappoint me."

❥ capitano.

the weight of his voice is that of unspoken promises, deep and quiet, a rumble if nothing else. "what do i want?' he asks, his tone unwavering but something told you he'd never been asked such a thing. "i want you to stand beside me without fear. to see the world through your eyes and remember what it is i'm fighting for." a gloved hand rested on your upper arm, a surprisingly gentle touch. "and, you're willing, i want you.. as my reason to keep moving forward."

[nadvs]

home before dark (part seven)

pairing rafe cameron x kook! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary as children, you and rafe were best friends, but then tragedy suddenly struck his family and he shut everybody out. years later, you need his help when a pushy ex-boyfriend won’t leave you alone. rafe is perfect for the job because everybody’s afraid of him. except for you.

content warnings stalker ex, violence, smut, substance abuse, death and mourning of parent

» masterlist

· · ── ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ── · ·

Rafe feels like he’s come undone. The string that just barely keeps him composed has unravelled. There’s no use in trying to tie it back together. Not when you’re holding him like this.

You’re standing in your bathroom as he cries into your shoulder, your breaths intertwined. His knees are weakening and it’s getting harder to hold his weight as he leans on you.

Your arms are loosely encircled around his neck and you collect every bit of strength you have in you to hold him up. You can feel the moisture from his tears dampening the fabric of your shirt, hear the gasps of breath spilling from his mouth. You can’t help but cry with him.

When you slowly glide a hand up the back of Rafe’s head, stroking his hair, he cries harder, his body thrown off center even further after being touched so gently. His hands tighten on your waist, pulling you in closer.

Rafe’s chest is burning, his hand still aching from nearly punching the life out of your ex-boyfriend. His legs are giving out and he realizes just how much he’s bearing down on you.

“Shit,” he grumbles, angry at himself for hurting you. “Sorry.” He straightens, pulling back just a bit, your cheeks touching.

“Don’t worry about it.” Your voice sounds just as fragile as the atmosphere between you. You’ve never wanted to take care of someone more than you do right now. “Let’s go to my room.”

You keep all the lights off as you pace upstairs. When you reach your room, Rafe sits on the edge of your bed, sniffling.

You watch his darkened figure angrily swipe at his tears. You settle beside him, your heart stinging, the side of your thigh pressed against his.

“I…” Rafe’s voice is hoarse. His heart is racing. He’s failing at choking down his sobs. “I can’t stop.”

“You don’t have to stop,” you say. You watch him helplessly, eager to do whatever you can to ease his pain, to make him more comfortable.

You wipe one of your own tears away and rest your hand on his shuddering back, feeling how damp the cotton of his shirt is, surely from sweat.

You can’t get how he looked leaning over Ty out of your mind, the way he struck him over and over. When his friends pushed him up against the wall, he looked so angry and lost.

“Are your pajamas in the other room?” you ask.

Rafe nods. You rush away towards the guest room.

He feels completely powerless to his own body. He’s lost every bit of composure he thought he had. He can’t believe he’s doing this right now, sitting in your room, crying this hard in front of you.

He should’ve known being around you long enough would wear him down. His mother may be gone, but the weight of losing her never will be, and every time he looks into your eyes or feels your skin on his, he remembers that he’s carrying that weight everywhere he goes.

When he’s in this state, he takes whatever he can get his hands on to get wasted enough to forget. But he doesn’t have anything to numb his agony.

You return holding Rafe’s sweats and t-shirt and see him hunched over your bed, his head in his hands. You sit next to him again, his clothes bunched up against your chest. His breaths are short and uneven.

“I can help you get changed,” you say, words faltering between your tears. “And I can ramble or I can be quiet or whatever you need to fall asleep.”

Your chest aches even more at the desperation in your own voice. It reminds you of being ten years old, standing at Rafe’s bedroom door, offering to do anything just to carry a piece of his pain for him.

He rejected you then. He’s rejected you a thousand times since. But tonight, he lowers his hands from his face and turns his head just enough to catch your gaze.

“Okay,” he murmurs, throat thick with tears.

He remains sitting as you stand and lean over him to bunch the bottom of his shirt in your hands.

You pull the fabric up over his torso and he lifts his long arms for you. Your eyes are better adjusted to the dark now, allowing you to see the way his chest is rising and falling as he breathes through his cries.

In any other scenario, undressing him like this would feel suggestive, but the intimacy between you is innocent. You’re helping a friend in pain. At least, you hope he considers you a friend now.

The cotton of his pajama shirt is soft between your fingers as you draw it over his head. He finds the strength to pull his arms through the sleeves and then shuffles to unbutton his jeans. You help him take his jeans off and replace them with his sweatpants.

Rafe still doesn’t get why you think he deserves your unconditional kindness. But then he remembers what you said downstairs. You said he’s good. When was the last time someone called him good?

It’s been years since he thought something positive about himself. But maybe you’re right. Maybe whatever good you see in him really is there.

He pushes himself up to his feet to brush his teeth in the bathroom down the hall and you quickly change into your pajamas in the dark and get ready for bed.

When Rafe comes back into your room, his strides are slow and his shoulders are hunched as he settles into your bed.

“Do you need ice for your hand?” you whisper. “Or some water?”

“No,” he responds. He shifts, head resting on your pillow, and swallows hard, never having had a harder time saying what he wants before now. “Just… come to bed.”

It’s jarring. The same man who’s spent years averting his gaze the second you walked into a room, who found the quickest way to end every conversation you tried to start, doesn’t want to be apart from you for even a minute.

You sink into the mattress next to him, bodies turned towards each other. His breaths continue to hitch with his cries. It’s like he’s letting out all the tears that he’s repressed tonight.

You find his hand and stroke it gently, fingers running over his swollen knuckles.

One of the last times someone tried to help Rafe was when the paramedics arrived on the side of the freeway. They were asking him if anything hurts. If he could slowly get out of the car.

The rain was falling from the dark sky in hard, heavy drops and he had to shout for them to hear him. He kept telling them to check on his mom. They told him someone was already with her. He told them they should all be checking up on her and not him because he was fine but she wasn’t breathing.

“What are you thinking?” you ask. After a moment, he answers.

“It never gets easier,” Rafe says, his tone teetering on whimpering. His grief is still eating him alive. It never stopped.

“I’m so sorry,” you say, your tears hot against your cheeks. “Did you… ever get any help? Anyone to talk to?”

“No. At the beginning…” His mind flashes through how much the therapist he saw after it happened reminded him of his mother. Since he was ten, all he’s done is run from every reminder. “No. I couldn’t.”

You inch closer to him, holding his hand tighter, your legs tangling together.

“How about your family?” you ask.

Rafe can’t do this.

“Distract me,” he whispers. “Please distract me.”

You scramble to find something, anything to talk about. You think back to the start of the summer and the hopes you had before your ex started tormenting you both in and out of your relationship.

“I haven’t been off the island as much as I’d like to,” you begin. You press your hand against his chest to feel his heart, gauging if your words are helping. “I was thinking to go into the mainland some more this summer.“

You start to talk about how you’ve daydreamed about seeing what kinds of things the world has to offer across the water.

Rafe shuts his eyes, letting your sweet voice permeate the air, filling him with a quiet warmth like it always does.

You chase away the demons when you speak to him like this. You short-circuit the painful thoughts that rush through his head. You blur the terrifying images he sees. And it’s so much better than any drug he could ever take.

Slowly, you feel the pounding in his chest recede into softer, further apart thumps. His breaths are still sharp, but his sobs aren’t as hard. You comforted him like this when you were kids and it grants you a sense of pride that you can still soothe him.

Minute after minute, Rafe’s crying loses its intensity, and finally, he dozes off with your hand pressed against his sternum.

Your eyes gently flutter shut. The sound of his deep breathing alleviates you after what may have been one of the worst days you’ve ever had. You fall asleep feeling the pulse of a boy who lost his innocence too soon.

Rafe can’t remember the last time he slept so deeply. He drifts into consciousness feeling rested for the first time in ages.

You’re facing him, your hand cupped around his, his knuckles up to your lips as you sleep. He watches you in awe.

At some point in the night, he remembers shuffling awake and feeling your lips press against his sore hand, kissing him and calming him in your dazed state.

Rafe looks at the way your eyelashes curl over your closed eyelids. You were so patient with him, letting him cry as hard and as long as he needed to.

Can he actually do this? Can he have you in his life in a real capacity, instead of just inside this arrangement to keep you safe? Can he let you in while keeping something so painful from you?

You still don’t know the whole of it. He never wants you to. He’s not sure what to do, so he slowly shifts out of your soft bed.

It’s a few minutes past nine when you make your way downstairs. Rafe is sitting in the front room. You had hoped he’d stay in bed with you this time.

“What time are you meeting the lawyer today?” he asks once he sees you.

“Ten.”

“I’m going with you,” he says. He told you he wouldn’t leave your side and he’s not breaking his promise.

You nod, staring at him. It feels like there’s distance between you again. Does he regret last night?

“How are you?” you ask quietly, leaning against the wall.

Rafe’s eyes flit to you. When he sees the sorrow in your expression, he tells you the good instead of the bad.

“Had a good sleep,” he tells you. He looks away again. “Thanks for…”

“Of course,” you say once you realize he won’t finish his sentence. “Any time.”

Rafe rubs his knees, his hands running over the denim of his jeans, remembering how you took them off for him last night. It’s embarrassing to think about how he broke down in front of you.

“I need to go home,” he says, “to shower and get some clean clothes. I’ll come back.”

You watch him leave and you lock the door behind him. Maybe he’s just uncomfortable after everything last night. You try not to let it get to you. But it gets to you. Because it’s Rafe and his effect on you has always been to impossible to avoid.

You arrive at the lawyer’s office in your car with Rafe in the driver’s seat. You asked not to take his bike simply because driving out in the open like that was daunting. Your nerves are sitting heavy in your stomach. It still feels unbelievable that Ty has gone so far that you had to get the law involved.

Rafe asks you if you want him in the office with you. You do.

You settle across the desk of the kind-faced lawyer, your hands clasped tightly together. She tells you how sorry she is about your circumstances and that your court date has been set for a week from today.

She explains the process of getting a permanent protective order and goes through the evidence you have. Rafe looks over at you every so often, his chest pinching from how worried you look.

“Do you have any questions?” she says.

“The police told me that if he violates the order, I should report it,” you say. “Is there someone on the case I can call? Or should I go to the station? Or the courthouse?”

She shakes her head in disappointment, looking genuinely sympathetic of your situation.

“What happened?” she asks. “I can relay it to the police. You don’t have to worry about going to them. I’m here to make this easier for you.”

“Thank you,” you say. “He ran up to me last night, yelling about how I went to the cops. I think he was going to…” You look at Rafe, your lips twisting. “I think he was going to hurt me but my friend stopped him.”

You wonder if friend is a generous title for what Rafe is to you. Or maybe not generous enough.

“He knew you went to the police last night?” she says. “I called them before our meeting. Your ex-boyfriend was informed of the temporary order this morning.”

Your body flushes. Ty didn’t know about the court order last night. But he knew you went to the police.

“He was probably following me yesterday and watched me go to the police station,” you realize, eyes darting to Rafe again. “I didn’t… I didn’t see him. Did you?”

“No,” he says. He was extra vigilant yesterday. He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

“The parking lot wasn’t that full,” you stammer. “I didn’t notice a car following us or anything. How did…”

It hits you. Maybe he hasn’t been tailing you like you thought. Maybe he’s had another way to know where you were without having to be there.

“What if he’s… tracking me somehow?” you ask the lawyer. “That’s illegal, right?”

“Yes,” she tells you. “He’d be criminally charged.”

You look down at your lap. Just like yesterday, fear makes you feel like you’re leaving your own body.

You pull your phone out of your pocket. It’s the only thing you have with you constantly. He could’ve put something in it. You stare at it in your shaking hand.

But why did you find footprints in front of your house a few nights ago when a tracking device would have told him that you were at a party down the street? What reason would he have to be creeping around your empty home?

Unless it isn’t in your phone. It has to be in something else you own. Your mind is racing. Your car was parked in front of your home that night. You walked to the party. Maybe Ty thought you skipped out on it. That you were home alone.

The footprints never made sense. Until now.

“Could it be somewhere in my car?” you ask her.

You struggle to keep your composure as the lawyer talks you through what would happen if they find something and link it to him. Depending on the judge, it could mean jail time.

You thank the lawyer when you leave, taking her advice to drive your car to the police station and have an officer search it.

It all happens so fast. You watch two cops inspect your car. You hear one of them mumble “I think I found something” to his coworker. Your stomach drops.

Rafe is standing next to you the entire time and when he sees the small, white box dropped into a plastic evidence bag, he has to step away for a second, pinching the bridge of his nose in anger and disbelief.

There was nothing, nothing you could have done to deserve any of the shit this creep put you through. Learning that he was aware of your every move for who knows how long makes Rafe’s skin crawl. Beating the shit out of him last night wasn’t enough.

You’re silent when you leave the station. Rafe keeps looking over at you as he grips the steering wheel.

You’re gazing ahead, your stare distant, your body curled like you’re trying to make yourself smaller so nobody can see you.

He’s livid that the cops didn’t think to investigate further. You had to come to the conclusion yourself that your ex was tracking you.

“It’s their job to figure this kind of shit out, but you had to do it for them,” he mutters angrily. “And they seriously told him to stay away from you just this morning?”

“Yeah,” you say flatly. You’re in a fugue state. Your heart is racing. It’s hard to breathe. Your skin feels cold.

“Did you eat?” Rafe says.

You shake your head no.

“You need to eat.”

“So do you.”

“Don’t worry about me right now,” he says with a huff.

“I’m always going to worry about you,” you say absentmindedly. Your words are so simple, but they make his stomach go numb.

You approach a red light. Rafe taps his thumb against the wheel. He needs to make things better.

“We’ll pick some food up, alright?” he says.

You feel your phone buzz in your pocket. When you see you missed a call from your dad, it’s what pulls you back into reality.

“I have to call my dad back,” you mumble. You rub your forehead in frustration. You can understand why Rafe always wants to be distracted. It’s so much easier than dealing with a scary, painful reality.

“Do you want me to talk to him?” he asks.

You almost tell him he doesn’t have to. But he knows he doesn’t. Finally, you accept that Rafe isn’t just looking out for you only because he feels like he needs to. He wants to.

“He’s not going to believe that we’re…” you trail off.

In this second, Rafe decides having you in his life is worth reliving any echos of the past. He’ll just bury the truth deep enough that he’ll forget it exists. He can do it.

“Friends again?” he says.

You meet his eyes and when your lips pull into a small smile, so do his. You don’t have to wonder if he’s still stuck in the idea that this will only be temporary anymore. It’s a ray of light in the darkness that’s become your life.

A car honks impatiently behind you and Rafe looks ahead to see that the light turned green. At the same moment he groans “shut up” to them, you mutter “relax”, and you both chuckle at your shared frustration.

Rafe pays for the takeout and when you arrive home, you sit at the kitchen island together to eat. You don’t have much of an appetite, but you take as many bites of your lunch as you can to gain the courage to call your dad.

“I think I can do it,” you say, picking up your phone. Rafe nods and watches you with softened eyes as you put the phone on speaker. After a few rings, your father answers.

“Hi,” you say. You take a deep breath. “First of all, I’m safe, so you don’t need to worry. But I ended things with Ty after you left and he’s been taking the break-up really badly. I… had to get a restraining order yesterday. I know it sounds crazy-“

“What? Are you alright?” your father asks.

“I am.” Your eyes meet Rafe’s. “I found a lawyer. And Rafe’s been helping me through all of it. I’m with him right now.”

“Cameron?”

“Yes,” you say. You’re not sure what your dad may say about who he knows to be your estranged childhood friend, so you rush to your next sentence. “Can you come home?”

“Of course. I just told your mom to start looking for flights,” he responds. “Are you… a restraining order? How - what has Ty been doing?”

You suddenly don’t feel as capable to speak as you did minutes ago. Retelling it yet again feels agonizing. You look at Rafe in desperation. He holds his hand out to you and you pass him your phone.

You watch as Rafe speaks to your father, addressing him as sir, reassuring him that you’re not alone or hurt. He walks back and forth through your kitchen as he speaks.

You watch his tall figure pace in front of you. He has the sense to give your dad a watered down version of the past few days. He mentions how Ty has tried to get into contact with you and the tracker the cops found, but he leaves out things like last night’s fight.

“Thank you for looking out for her,” your dad eventually says with a worried sigh. Rafe’s eyes find yours.

“It’s no problem,” he responds.

After your father says the earliest flight they could find would have them arrive home at eleven p.m. tomorrow, he tries to reassure you, telling you it’ll all be fine.

You hang up and go back to trying to eat. Rafe sits beside you.

Curiosity starts to prick at Rafe. If you’re really going to be friends again, he’ll see your parents around more often. Your dad sounded appreciative on the phone, but maybe he was just being polite. He’s not so sure they like him.

“Do your parents ever ask about me?” Rafe asks.

“They used to,” you say. “But I asked them to stop a long time ago.”

His eyes remain focused on you. He’s waiting for details.

“I just said we grew apart,” you add. “I didn’t want to tell them you wouldn’t talk to me.”

Rafe looks away in shame. The fact that you haven’t told them what really happened reminds him of what he heard the day you were in Sarah’s room. You never let anyone say anything bad about him. She always knew you liked him.

Rafe’s heart-rate quickens at the idea of you having those kinds of feelings for him. While his sister probably only said that because she’s under the impression you’re dating, the thought of you feeling the same thrill he does when you touch won’t leave his head.

It feels good to imagine you liking him like that. And he’s used to chasing whatever feels good, so he’ll allow himself to feed the delusion.

“I’ll be different,” Rafe says. “I won’t act like that anymore.”

You smile. Things don’t feel as cold as before. Not even close.

“Good,” you say. “I don’t know how we can be friends if you do.”

Rafe’s dimples dip into his cheeks when he smirks, relieved but not surprised that you’re being so compassionate.

The sight of his smile makes your problems feel a hundred times lighter.

After the takeout containers are empty and in the trash, Rafe cocks his head as he looks at you, more nervous that he thought he’d be to propose this.

“You said you wanted to get off the island,” he says. “Let’s go.”

“Now?” you say with a laugh.

“Now.”

You recognize Rafe’s family’s boat bobbing in the gentle water when you reach the docks after a quick drive to the marina. The afternoon sun is hidden by clouds, adding gusts to the warm summer air.

Rafe is quick getting the boat ready for departure. You sit on the bench behind the helm, watching him start the boat and navigate into the dark blue sea.

After a few minutes of quiet, the only sound being the rippling water and humming motor, you stand beside Rafe, seeing the coast in the far distance.

“We don’t have to dock anywhere if you’re cool with that,” you tell him. “Honestly, it feels really good to be out here.”

“You don’t want to go to the mainland?”

“No,” you tell him, an uncontrollable smile on your face. “This is better.“

You step out to the bow, leaning over the point of the boat. Rafe can’t keep his eyes off of you as you stand ahead of him. In this moment, finally, he’s not in the past. He’s living in the here and now.

You look back at him every so often, the smile on your face so beautifully genuine that it makes him swear he’ll do whatever it takes for you to smile like that as much as possible.

It’s nearing sunset when you get back to the docks. It feels so easy to be with Rafe. It’s like you’re kids again, no discomfort or sorrow or anger between you, just two souls that don’t need to second-guess if the other wants to be there.

“I’m exhausted,” you say as you both enter your house.

“From what?” Rafe teases, watching you reset the security system as he shuts the door. “I drove the whole time.”

“Does it have to be a competition of who’s more tired?”

“Yeah. It does,” he responds, stepping close to you as you punch in the numbers.

“You really haven’t changed at all,” you say with a happy shake of your head, turning to face him.

“What’s that mean?” Rafe asks, his tone low and amused.

“It means you always wanted to win at everything.” You cross your arms and tilt your chin to look up at him, taking in the way his windswept hair has fallen over his forehead. You want to brush it back.

“What’s so bad about that?”

“It’s just an observation.”

“What else have you observed?” Rafe asks.

He lifts his arm to lean against the wall, tilted over you. Your eyes drag over the planes of his handsome face, wondering if it’s just you that feels like you’ve been angling towards flirting with each other all day.

“About you?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he says, squinting in a self-assured way.

Just a few nights ago, it still felt odd having him in your home, standing right here, but now, it feels natural. Rafe slipped back into your life, nearly effortlessly. You’re sure it’s because you’ve always held a place for him in it in case he ever wanted to come back.

“You’re just as protective as you were then,” you say. “No. More protective, actually.”

You don’t think the Rafe you knew before the accident would have ever resorted to violence. But you don’t tell him that.

“You’re honest,” you say, a grin on your face. “And fun. And I think you have a ridiculously strong sense of responsibility. How am I doing?”

Rafe looks down, his tongue jutting beneath his cheek as he huffs a chuckle.

“Only for you,” he says solemnly.

“What?”

“I only feel a sense of responsibility for you,” he says. He gazes at you again. “Before you came asking for help, I really didn’t give a shit about anything.”

You almost have to steady yourself. Your playful smile drops, your lips parted even though you can’t think of anything to say.

You stand in the moment together, facing each other, eyes locked.

A few nights ago, he snapped at you, saying that you don’t know him. But you think you do. Because the way he’s staring right now, almost slack-jawed, looks like he’s looking into a mirror for the first time.

You’re frozen, but if he makes a move, even leans forward an inch, you know you’d close the distance.

He doesn’t, though. So, you step back.

“I need to shower,” you say with a short laugh. “I smell like the sea. Do you wanna have dinner after?”

Rafe nods, offering you a tight smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

You replay the day in your head as you shower. Mostly, you replay the moments you caught Rafe looking at you. You knew you always had love for him in your heart, and over these past few days, you can’t deny that it’s grown stronger.

And you wonder, and hope, that maybe the friends thing isn’t an official title. Because you want more.

You change into fresh clothes in your bedroom and head out into the hallway. When you round the corner, Rafe is coming up the last few steps of the staircase.

“Hi,” you say, approaching him to stand only a foot away for him. You place your hand on the bannister, mostly just to have something to do while your stomach flutters.

He stares down at you, the smell of your shampoo now committed to his memory. He’s been overthinking downstairs, aimlessly striding around, unsure if you feel the pull between you too, but so damn willing to take the risk.

Maybe you’ll shoot him down. But not knowing for sure actually hurts at this point.

“What?” you ask with a smile. “You okay?”

Rafe’s eyes search your face.

“I…” he begins. Rafe steps forward, mainly to see if you tense up and move away. But you don’t. “I can’t stop thinking about…”

“About what?”

“When we kissed the other night.”

The air goes thick, your throat suddenly dry. You remember how intoxicating it was kissing him. How it was just a tactic to chase away his friends. How hard it was accepting that it was all for show.

“I have to know,” he rasps. “Did you feel anything or was it just me?”

Your eyes fall to his lips. You’ve gotten used to things not feeling real by now, but not in a good way. This is like you’re living in a dream.

“It wasn’t just you,” you find the courage to say.

It’s all Rafe needs to hear. He leans forward. His lips brush against yours. Your breath catches.

You’re floating in the feeling of him on the cusp of kissing you. Finally, he closes what little distance remains, capturing your lips softly, gently, alleviating the years of pain you both held for so long in a way words never can.

His mouth is hot, his hands skimming over your hips as your lips weave together. Your heart pounds even faster when you feel his tongue dip into your mouth, running over yours.

You pull him in closer by his shoulders, impatient. Rafe can’t stop his groan when he feels your torso curve against his. He needs this. He needs you. A fire in him has been set alight and he’ll go as far as you’ll let him.

“Can we go to your room?” he mumbles, his nose nudging yours, the weight of his words not missed by either of you.

“Yes,” you whisper. You begin to step backwards, pulling him with you.

You settle on your bed, the hallway light spilling into the room, and lie on your back as he hovers on top of you.

Your kisses are growing deeper and hungrier. Rafe can’t believe this is happening. He feels nothing but fortunate right now, and he hasn’t felt like luck has ever been on his side.

He dips to kiss your neck and you run your hands through his soft hair, realizing your breaths have become short and eager. It feels so right to have him on top of you like this.

Rafe’s lips are soft as he trails kisses over your skin. Your arms hook around his body, drawing him in closer, allowing you to feel him growing under his jeans.

He stills for a moment in case it’s too much for you, but you roll your hips beneath him, and the fact that you want him as badly as he wants you makes sparks erupt through him.

One arm holds him up while the other moves over your side, fingers hooking below the hem of your shirt.

“Is this okay?” he huffs against your neck as he starts to drag his hand up under your shirt. You nod and your skin blooms in goosebumps when he reaches your chest, gently palming you.

He sharply inhales as he feels over your bra, starting to rock against you.

“Am I going too fast?” Rafe whispers. He couldn’t forgive himself if he made you uncomfortable, even for a second.

“No,” you say. “Don’t stop.”

His lips find yours again as he caresses you. Your hand trails down his firm body and when you close your fingers around his length over his jeans, he kisses you harder.

“How’s this?” you ask when you pull back, starting to stroke him slowly.

“Fuck,” Rafe says shakily. “That’s good.”

He captures your lips in his again as you touch each other so tenderly, both your chests heaving.

You feel his hand drag down your stomach and rest on your inner thigh, gently squeezing. The anticipation, the thirst you feel for him is overpowering.

You arch your back, inviting him to touch you where you need him most. When his palm grazes between your legs, the feeling makes him twitch in your hand.

He brushes against you with languid, sweet movements, kissing your lips over and over again. Slowly, his fingers go to the band of your pants.

“Yes,” you whisper before he can even ask.

When Rafe feels you completely, no barrier in the way, it’s like he’s drunk. Moans spill from your mouth as he caresses you, his fingertips moving with gentle glides. Everything about you is perfect, down to the sounds of pleasure you make.

You shift to unbutton his jeans and pull down his zipper, feeling him buck up against you. You finally wrap your hand around him and he groans.

You kiss each other over and over, lips moving eagerly while your hands move slowly. When you start to stroke him faster, he follows your pace.

You’re panting into each other’s mouths now and you finally let go, writhing beneath him as you meet your peak. Rafe is shuddering seconds later, euphoric in the climax you’ve given him.

You’re blissed out, skin covered in sweat as you lie next to him. You feel so weak and tired and happy, resting your head on his shoulder.

You wake up in darkness. You search for him next to you, but he’s gone.

When you go downstairs, you find Rafe sitting in the kitchen. Your eyes meet and you smile, albeit a little nervously about what just happened upstairs, about how you took your friendship to a new level you can’t come back down from.

“Another observation I’ve made,” you start to joke, “you always leave me to wake up alone. How long was I asleep?”

He cracks a smile, but you can see it’s disingenuous.

“Sorry,” he says. “Not long.”

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“Yeah,” Rafe responds. The faraway look in his eyes tells you otherwise. You come closer, standing across from where he’s sitting.

“What is it? Tell me.”

“I can’t.” Rafe shakes his head. It’ll reopen a wound in him and cut open a new one in you. He should never tell you.

But your words from earlier ring in his head. You called him honest. And he’s not. He’s a liar. And now he’s derailing.

“Do you…” you begin. “Should we not have done that? Do you regret it?”

“No,” he answers quickly.

“Then, what is it?”

“Don’t…” Rafe looks away. “Don’t push. Please.”

Normally, you wouldn’t. You never have. But you feel painfully vulnerable. What you just shared was so meaningful. At least, to you it was. Why is he closed off again? Why do you deserve this?

“What’d I do?” you ask, your voice starting to tremble.

Rafe stands from his seat, raking his hand through his hair. He was sure he was strong enough to repress this. He’s always been an expert at escaping reality.

But being around you weakens him. He’s starting to panic, starting to feel his blood go hot.

Giving into his physical impulses upstairs made him lose any power he had left. He’s in love with you. He knows that for a fact. But how can you love someone while you also blame them for the worst thing that ever happened to you?

“I… I can’t,” he whispers.

“You can’t what?” you ask. “What’s wrong?”

“I never… I can’t tell you.” Rafe’s breaths get shallower. “I can’t tell you.”

You step in front of him, your hands softly resting on his chest.

“You can tell me anything,” you say.

“We can’t do this,” Rafe mutters.

“What do you mean?” you ask. Your heart breaks all over again. “Don’t go back to treating me like this. Please.”

“We can’t do this,” he repeats.

He’s losing it. He can’t leave the house. He’s here to keep you safe. But he doubts he could even drive right now if he had the opportunity. And he has no substances running through his veins, dampening the pain.

He has nothing.

“Why?” you ask, dread filling you, tears starting to form. “Why? Whatever it is, we can talk about it and fix it.”

“You can’t fix this.”

“Why?”

“Because it already happened.”

“What are you talking about?” Your tone is frantic now.

“It already happened!” he shouts.

Rafe’s stomach twists with self-hatred when he sees you falter, your eyes widening with shock. He startled you. He’s scaring you, just like your ex does.

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly. His hands find your face, his thumbs stroking over your cheekbones. “Let’s forget it, okay? Let’s have some dinner and forget it.”

But you’re already crying.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats.

“What already happened?” you ask. You’re not sure if it’s just anxiety crawling up your body or a painful sense of intuition. But something tells you that whatever he has to say will shatter you.

“Rafe,” you say. “Please tell me.”

He drops his hands. You’re begging now. He’s infuriated that he couldn’t just keep it together. The loss, the heartbreak, the regret fills him all at once.

“We were…” He looks away. He can’t bear to see your face when he says it. “We were in the car because of you.”

(part eight)

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

[throneofsapphics]

brush away the dust part 2

Batboys x f!Reader

(part one)

summary: after returning from Under the Mountain, you found things weren't quite the same between you and your partners. years later, painful memories are brought back up.

warnings: angst

word count: 2010

a/n: I'll admit I did write the original version of this back in October 2023, so its been hiding for a while. thank you to @whisperingmidnights for helping me give it a face lift

original song Inspo: Cocaine Jesus by Rainbow Kitten Surprise

What happened to your friend, y/n? Feyre asked innocently. Rhys’s entire body stiffened, and she frowned. The female had popped into her mind recently, an offhand comment by Mor about visiting Vivian and her. She knows they were introduced once, as Rhys’s friend but she hadn’t heard a word of her since. 

“She moved,” he said curtly.

“Where?” Feyre pressed. There was something else about her, and she was determined to figure out what. 

“Winter.” His fingers clenched around the pen, white knuckling as he tried to write, the ink ripping through the paper instead. She reached out to try and take it from him, to hold his hand, but he held onto it with a death grip.

“Tell me what it is,” Feyre sighed. 

“It’s nothing.” 

“Bullshit.” Feyre knew she was pushing, and treaded carefully. “You said no secrets between us.” That seemed to flip something in him, because he dropped the pen and leaned back. Grief flooded his features - and surprised her. 

“We were in a relationship,” he said curtly. Her mouth parted, she’d never expected … “She was with Azriel, Cassian, and I. For centuries.” 

Feyre blinked several times. Surprisingly, no jealousy flooded through her. She knew he’d had lovers before but hadn’t thought all three of them would have the same one. 

“What happened?” she asked quietly.

“I found my mate.” He didn’t meet her gaze, and it wasn’t out of shame for them being together. Feyre easily but the pieces together. 

“Rhys,” she hissed, “tell me you didn’t toss her aside.” 

He didn’t meet her eyes. “She was there, Under the Mountain. Healing. We couldn’t risk being seen together, or speaking much.” She hadn’t known, she’d known nothing of this. “When I came back,” shame - she scented shame and a tiny pit of anger growing in him, “I knew you were my mate, and it wasn’t fair to her.” 

“What about Cassian or Azriel?” 

“It wouldn’t have … it wouldn’t have been the same without the three of us. Cassian has Nesta, and Az was fine.” 

His mental walls were wide open, and she didn’t try to invade, but the strength of his memories sucked her in. The joy of the four of them together … ‘we can keep a spot for her for now.’ 

She reached out and called for Cassian and Azriel, and her tone left no room for bullshit. They were there within minutes. 

Feyre slammed her palms against the desk, rising to her feet. “Look at me. All three of you.” They did, and she spoke to them as their High Lady. “You threw her out, after centuries of love - of her giving every fucking thing to you.” The two of them didn’t need to question who she was speaking of. In fact, they didn’t look too surprised. She wouldn’t be surprised if Rhys warned them. 

“I didn’t throw-” Rhys began. 

“You offered her a spot,” Feyre spat, “in the home she just returned to - after half a century ripped away from her home, from her family, and everything she loved. None of you,” she made sure to meet each of their eyes, “even tried to make things right.” 

“Feyre,” Cassian said carefully, holding his hands up in a placating gesture, “it was complicated. She,” he glanced at Rhys, “they had been gone for so long - she came back different.” 

“Mother above. You’re all idiots. She came back traumatized, and I guarantee she thought the three males she loved would help, and you may as well have thrown her back Under the Mountain.” 

Silence radiated throughout the room, and she went to find Mor. She’d seen a glimpse of their friendship, and needed some way to apologize for the three bastards, if they wouldn’t do it themselves. 

-

The High Lady of the Night Court showed up at her door, and she couldn’t refuse her. So, she did what she’s always done - and offered her a cup of tea and some pastries she’d baked that morning. Feyre took them all with a gentle smile and thanks, but she could feel the anxiety roll from her. 

“I know why you’re here,” y/n sighed, gripping the warm mug as if she might get some strength from it. 

“Please,” Feyre said gently, “I need to explain.” 

“You’re not responsible for them,” she assured her. Feyre’s lips pressed into a tight line, obviously she disagreed. “I know it wasn’t your fault,” she continued when she didn’t interrupt, “I hold no ill will towards you or them- ”

“That makes you a better female than me,” Feyre huffed and she let out a laugh. The High Lady smiled at her. She could see how she matched with Rhys, could sense how they would fit together. “I did lecture them.” Y/n’s returning smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m sorry to open old wounds, but I … I want you to know they were wrong. How they treated you was unacceptable, and I’m ashamed you were driven from your home.” 

She blinked back tears. Feyre had said the things she didn’t dare even think anymore. The feelings she’d worked through and discarded, trying to replace them with gratitude for the learning opportunity. “After what you went through, how you still came back to help all of us in the war, not expecting a thing out of it.” Feyre paused, as if trying to gather her thoughts. Somehow, she’d learned about the healing. Did Madja tell her? She let her continue, mostly because she had no idea what to say to her. “You still have a home, in the Night Court if you ever-”

She held up a hand, interrupting her words. “I appreciate the sentiment, and your kind words and understanding. But, the Night Court is not my home. It hasn’t been for years and I’m happy with my life here.” Then, it was too much - having her here, digging up things that were better left buried, even if it came from a good place. She stood, turned to the kitchen and a petty part of her flared. Quickly, she put together a small basket of all of the things she knew the three of them had loved, that she would usually make. Some pastries, preserves, and honeycomb jelly. She knew Feyre was watching her every move. 

Y/n glanced at the clock. She had agreed to pick up a shift tonight. “I have to leave for work soon,” she said apologetically. Feyre rose with her. “Here,” she handed the basket. “Some gifts for friends.” Feyre’s eyes flashed as if she recalled a memory, and a mischievous look danced in them. A look that told her she’d make sure they encountered her little gift. She could picture Feyre leaving it in a common area, knowing all too well her scent would be all over it for them to see. 

“Thank you for coming,” she added - and Feyre took the dismissal. There wasn’t an invitation for more, for a return, and she left gracefully, thanking her for inviting her in and listening. 

-

The three of them showed up at her house. She should’ve slammed the door in their faces, but she knew they would wait outside until they opened again. Their High Lady was likely behind this. 

Her hands moved in familiar patterns, throwing a kettle on for tea - warming up a few things she’d baked this morning. Maybe she slammed the cups down a bit harder on the counter than normal. Or sliced the bread with something else in mind. She didn’t need to look to know at least one of them, probably Cassian, had winced. 

“I hope you find your mate one day,” Rhys said as they’d finally settled down. The Illyrians looked vaguely uncomfortable, chairs not designed with wings in mind. Good. 

“I don’t.” she snapped back at him. The bit of leftover anger - the part she never let herself feel - started bubbling inside of her as soon as she spotted them. It was ready to boil over. “I hope I never toss someone to the side without so much as an explanation. We went through …” Her throat restricted, and tears started falling - but she refused to be ashamed of them. It had taken her this long to be comfortable showing outward emotion again, and she wouldn’t apologize for it. “Fifty years of hell and you left me. Left me by myself. If Mor wasn’t there …” 

She didn’t let herself finish the sentence, thinking about what it would have been like if her friend hadn’t dragged her out of the pit of misery. 

“I’m sorry,” Cassian said weakly. 

“We’re sorry,” Rhys added and Azriel gave a nod. 

She scoffed. Too damn late for any apologies.

“We thought it would be easier for you that way.” Azriel said quietly, his expression contemplative.  

“It wasn’t easy for us,” Cassian added. Rhys shifted. It was easier for him, that much she could tell. If things had been different, if they’d at least been more direct … Maybe in an alternate timeline they’d still be friends. She would still be in the City of Starlight, working under Madja and growing in her role. 

“Well,” she let her expression morph into a cruel smile. “Thank you for clearing that up. You never really knew me at all,” and strode of the door, swinging it open and motioning for them to leave. 

None of them moved. “We still need to talk.” Rhys almost sounded like he was pleading. 

“Get out of my house.” She hissed at them, throwing as much venom as possible. They still didn’t move. Maybe the years made her forget how gods damned stubborn they are. Pigheaded males. She slammed the door shut instead. “Say your piece, and get out.” 

-

Azriel didn’t know what to expect coming here, but it certainly wasn't pure anger and resentment. The absolute venom and distaste she looked at them with. It made him uncomfortable. 

”It’s been a decade, why can’t we-” Cassian started. 

”And we had centuries together. It might take a few more for me to look at you without wanting to break something.” 

A lie, he could almost taste the lie spilling from her lips. Still, he didn’t verbally call her out, but when she met his gaze, he could tell she knew. Her eyes rolled and she stood again. 

“Sit down,” Azriel said, the first thing he’d said to her after so many years.

She didn’t listen. He resisted the urge to send a shadow to tug you back into her seat. That, he knew, would only piss y/n off. 

“Please,” he added with a touch of strain.

It had the effect he desired, and she sat back down - still watching him cautiously. Almost like something was wrong with him. He frowned. Had he never said that one word to her? Something ugly like shame blossomed in him. 

He had centuries of training in patience, but he could tell the others were frustrated by how the rest of the conversation seemed to spin in circles without ever going anywhere. In another universe, he might have laughed to himself about it later. In this one, their own emotions seemed to leak into his own, infecting him. 

“This is going nowhere. This went nowhere. It won’t ever go anywhere,” you finally said, words almost frenzied. 

They’d worked you into that state. Guilt brushed against him. A cat hissed from somewhere. 

“We should go,” Azriel said. Probably one of the first smart things said during this conversation. Their presence here had only grown to distress you further. 

“Just wait,” you had a look he recognized about you - one where you were about to do something you may regret. He was too curious to stop you. 

Her hand hesitated on the drawer. The room went still. It slowly slid open, and he watched you pick up a small … portrait, gently wiping away the fine layer of dust coating it. It was a shame, he thought, that he’d never be able to brush away the dust coating your relationship. 

[toxicanonymity]

Joel/Reader

Free Use - Joel fucking the reader while she’s doing some other task like cooking. They have an agreement that he can fuck her whenever he likes so he just slides into her without preamble 😭

Making dinner (free use)

700 words, Joel x f!Reader. 

A/N: The way I said hell yeah out loud . . . You had me at “without preamble.”  Click the "#free use!Joel☠️" tag for more. Wanna use Joel? Free Use HCs (post-outbreak/TLOU).

WARNINGS: NSFW 18+ Unsafe PIV, consent for free use has been pre-established, pre or non-outbreak.  Master List

You’re making dinner for Joel’s birthday and expect him home any minute.  Tommy will be staying for dinner, too.  You’re wearing Joel’s favorite sundress, the form-fitting one that drives him wild, with no bra.   He’s been working with his hands this week, really building something himself, as opposed to overseeing other workers.  You love seeing Joel when he gets home from a hands-on job.  Sleeves rolled up, shirt blotched with perspiration, forearms smudged with dirt.  You get wet just thinking about it and even wetter when the truck pulls into the driveway.  

When the guys walk in, they’re as dirty as you expect.  Joel gives you a little kiss hello and Tommy greets you politely.  The only shower is upstairs, and Joel says Tommy can use it first.  Meanwhile, Joel goes to put his tools away in the garage. The door closes again, then Joel’s boots are slow and heavy on the linoleum as he crosses the kitchen.  You glance up from the potatoes you’re slicing, and he’s unfastening his belt as he walks.  His lips part as he looks you up and down like a piece of meat.    

You keep chopping the potatoes while Joel washes his hands right next to you, his jeans grazing your dress.  He dries his hands on a lemon-print dish towel, then throws it down on the counter and gets in your space.  The shower turns on upstairs.  Joel grabs your ass with a quiet “Mmmm.” He steps behind you, crowding you against the counter, and you feel him hard against your ass.  He inhales your hair.  “Been thinkin’ ‘bout this all day” he whispers to himself in a near-growl.  You keep chopping, but slow the knife as his hands hook around your thighs.  His large fingers skim up your legs and take your dress with them.  He leaves your dress resting on top of your ass, now clad only in a thong.  He rocks onto his tiptoes as he frees his stiff cock from his pants.  His boot gently kicks the inside of your sandal, prompting you to spread your legs a little more.  Then, he pushes your thong out of the way with his pinky, nestles his tip at your dripping entrance, and begins to push inside. 

He wraps an arm around your waist, giving you a whiff of sawdust mixed with sweat.  His masculine scent never fails to make you weak in the knees.  His arm tightens around you, then his stiff manhood plunges into you.  You gasp softly as his girth parts your core.   You pause your task for only a moment, taking a deep breath as your bodies are joined.  His cock retreats, then sinks even deeper into you, bottoming out with a grunt.  He gropes your breast, and your nipple hardens.  You start chopping the vegetables again.  

Joel buries his cock inside you, jerking himself off with your tight, wet cunt while you cook.  He growls and grunts and gropes where he wants.  His thrusts intensify and the momentum propels you onto your tiptoes.  His fingers dig into your hips and his strong hands hold you down while his thick cock fills you up again and again.  

The shower water turns off upstairs.  Joel quickens his pace, and both his big arms tighten around you as he pistons into you.  This isn’t for your pleasure, not at all, but the intensity of the situation, the strength of his arms around you, the waft of his scent, it all comes together and something rapidly builds within you.  Your core tightens, his breath becomes ragged, and he twitches inside you.  He pulls out all but his massive tip, then slams into you again, filling you to the brim.  His cock pulses powerfully, tipping you over the edge into your own climax, and you let the knife clatter into the sink.  Joel holds you down on his cock as he comes and you clench around him.  

The bathroom door opens upstairs.  Joel slides out of you and puts his cock away as Tommy’s footsteps start down the stairs.  Joel’s cum trickles out of you and he hands you the lemon-print dish towel.  Your face burns as you quickly wipe your inner thighs.   When Tommy walks into the kitchen, you’re all disheveled and your dress is filthy from Joel’s arms.  

-

If you like this one, I recommend Speakeasy, Speakeasy Bartender, and Picnic Table.

-

all Joel - @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea i feel like I'm leaving someone off who asked lmk if you still need on

-

[glossysoap]

glossy bless us with chef!simon PUHLEASE

mj!! <3 i’m so sorry this is so late! now rest assured, i’m still working on an official piece for this!

but i just wanted to put out some thoughts about this au to get it out there <3

tw: 18+, afab and fem reader, sous chef!reader, power imbalance, fem masturbation, oral f receiving. the oral scene is written with reader sitting, so you can easily imagine her either sitting on the counter or just in a chair (making it accessible to fat + disabled bodies)

very loose beginning scenario that i’m def gonna build off of. i’m thinking there’s been some tension between the two of you for a while, with you working under him in his kitchen, and it builds up even more when he starts having you taste test his dishes.

he never has anyone else taste test.

he does it standing pressed up against your side, cupping your chin in one hand. he holds a sauce spoon up to your lips, not giving you much chance but to take a taste.

he watches as your tongue flicks out to taste the sauce, and he imagines what your tongue would feel like mingling with his or lapping at his cock.

and then after every taste test, he leans down a bit so his mouth is by your ear and he would murmur praise so casually that you felt crazy for feeling warm and fuzzy.

“good. always do good f’ me.”

that tension builds every time he has you taste anything…. which is many times every weekday as you work with him in his gourmet kitchen. he has those fantasies every time.

of course, it wasn’t just him who felt the tension. you felt the tension every time. your heart would race in your ears and you would avoid his gaze. you felt his eyes burning into you, lingering suspiciously long on your lips and tongue as you tested his food. you would hum in approval every time, rarely ever needing to add anything to his dish.

it made it difficult for you to get through the day sometimes, with you having to rub your thighs together. if you didn’t care about your job, which you truly did - new york apartments’ rent was your thirteenth reason, you might have half a mind to go rub one out in the employee bathroom. all thinking about your boss.

but you didn’t.

you were responsible, begrudgingly so, and you waited until you flopped down on your bed before you stuffed your vibrator between your thighs and got yourself off. every damn time, you’d be creaming your cunt at the thought of your boss. his touch, his praise, his damn deep, husky voice.

(at that same time, simon was fisting his cock at the thought of his pretty sous chef. hips stuttering, jerking into his fist until his orgasm ran dry.)

after a few weeks of that, of all the tension, you’d fooled yourself into thinking that you were over it.

(and while you were busy trying to convince yourself that you were over it, your boss’ resolve was slipping, dangerously low. all he wanted to do was eat your cunt while you were sitting on the kitchen counter.)

you were dead wrong.

.. especially when you two were staying late in the restaurant one night, experimenting with new recipes.

no customers, no other workers. no one but the two of you. him moving throughout the kitchen, and you sitting patiently waiting for him.

if his patience and strength were being tested on a daily basis with a packed restaurant, it was really being tested when he was stuck by himself with you. there were no prying eyes keeping him from just taking you right in the middle of the kitchen.

his desires start coming to a head when you’re reaching up in the cabinet for a new mixing bowl and the hem of your shirt rises.

and then he has you taste the sauce. he was towering over you, holding your chin and holding the spoon up to your mouth. he stares down at you like he does every time, watching your tongue dart out.

this time though, you don’t avoid his gaze. you look up at him through your lashes as you lick some of the sauce from the spoon, savoring the taste while still looking up at him. you hum at the flavor.

he takes the sauce spoon away from your mouth after you test it, but his eyes zero in quickly once more when he sees a smudge of sauce on the corner of your lip.

he uses his thumb to rub it off, but he finds himself letting his thumb linger on the corner of your mouth. then slowly sliding along your bottom lip. he can’t help it. it’s like his hand was moving on autopilot.

meanwhile, his cock was straining in his pants because of how much he was chubbing up at the sight of his pretty sous chef looking up at him.

then, as if his resistance wasn’t already waning, your mouth opened just a fraction to take his thumb into your mouth… and suck the sauce off of it.

(you don’t know what possessed you but by the end of the night, you were glad you did it.)

“you’re killin’ me.” is all he said before it all came to a head. he used the grip he had on your chin to pull your face to his, smashing his lips against yours. the thumb that was slipped in your mouth moved to stroke your cheek as he cupped your face in his big hands.

you swallowed a yelp, or more like, he swallowed your yelp. his mouth slotted perfectly against yours, enveloping you whole as he licked inside your mouth. your hands froze at your sides for a moment from shock before coming up to rest on his chest to ground yourself. he was so big and solid. you'd seen it everyday, been so close to his towering form that you could almost taste it, but now that you were touching him and you were feeling his warm, solid chest against your palms? you felt light headed.

you whimper into his mouth when he nips at your bottom lip. you tentatively start kissing him back, letting your tongue run along the seam of his mouth.

one hand moves from your face to cup the back of your neck and tilt your head to an angle where he can kiss you even deeper.

he licks into your mouth hungrily, tasting every bit of you that he possibly could, also tasting the residual sauce from the spoon he’d help up for you to taste.

he kept holding your face as he licked into your mouth, your lips glossy with spit as your tongues keep mingling.

his mouth moves down past your chin and down your neck. his tongue licks a path along the span of your neck, then he leaves wet open mouthed kissed under your ear. his mouth sucks hard into your neck, focusing on your pulse points and licking at the sensitive skin afterwards.

with every lick, suck and bite along the sensitive skin of your neck, he hears breathy moans and broken whines fall from your lips. he smirks against your skin, looking forward to pulling even more sweet sounds from you. he took his time sinking his teeth into your soft skin, the skin that he's been looking at ever since you started working under him.

he loved how your skin tasted under his tongue, and he wanted more. he needed more of it. he’d waited far too long.

that’s how he ended up between your legs, on his knees in front of you as his head was buried between your thighs.

your pants and panties were pooled around your ankles, leaving you all bare and exposed. his big hands were holding your legs apart for him, propping your legs over his broad shoulders.

his mouth was so busy between your thighs, taking his sweet time to drink in all of your slick and commit every detail of your cunt to memory. he’s spent so long fisting his cock to the thought of you and your cunt and now she was in front of him. his tongue flattened over your slit to lap at your slick. his tongue poked and prodded at your entrance, pushing past the seam of your cunt with a hum, holding you ever closer by the grip he had on you.

“oh my god,” you tried to keep quiet but you were failing miserably.

you were gasping and moaning as he toyed with your folds and tasted every inch of you. your hand came up to fist his hair, holding him close to your cunt.

you were trying to soak up every second of this. you’d been just imagining this very moment when you rubbed yourself after every shift. now it was happening and it was more than anything you could imagine.

“yeah? that good?” your boss asked all muffled, mouth still buried in your cunt. your hips stuttered at the vibrations. you could see his cocky smile from his eyes.

you nodded so quick. “s-so fucking good, sir.” you couldn’t shed his title, even when his mouth was buried in your cunt. it just felt right to still call him that.

he hummed, a rumble from deep in his chest, that almost sounded like a growl at the use of his title. he moved one hand to slip two fingers inside next to his tongue. they slipped in so easily, way too easily, from how wet you were.

“oh— god!” your hips jerked from his tongue now being joined by two thick fingers. he wasn’t being slow or teasing either. he was steadily spreading you open with his fingers, scissoring them and using the spread his fingers provided to lick even deeper into your cunt.

“mmm, good girl. always so fucking good for me. so obedient. so helpful.” his lips move to wrap around your swollen clit.

you keen at his praise and sudden suckling on your pulsing clit. then he curled his fingers, nudging at the soft spot inside that he knew would send you over the edge.

“taste so damn perfect too.”

©️ glossysoap 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission.

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

imagine bucky being drunk

warning: kinda spicy at the end

"He's doing it again."

Sam nudged you in the ribs, tearing your eyes away from Carol; who had been giving you the latest details on her life. The two of you frowned but then Carol smirked, nodding to your boyfriend across the small dive bar she had taken everyone to. Bucky was standing next to Steve and he was pretend punching him in the face. Steve was laughing whilst blocking his friend's air punches.

"I love drunk Barnes," Carol sighed contently and you agreed.

"He's so cute when he's drunk."

"Sure, real cute when the tab is over a grand because it takes a whole brewery to get him tipsy."

Ignoring Sam, you promised Carol you'd return to hear the rest of her story and she smirked, holding up her beer. "We have all night."

Stepping away from the table, you smiled at the bickering going on behind you as to who was going to pay for the tab. Leaving Wilson and Danvers to settle that argument, you walked over to the oldest men in the bar. Bucky's eyes moved to you and he grinned like a little puppy, pushing Steve aside to stumble over to you.

"God, you're so cute," he hollered, pretending to grab a piece of you to eat. He consumed air you and you laughed, grabbing his hand before he could take another bite.

Bucky quickly engulfed you into a hug, squeezing so tight you had to holler for him to release you. "I love a good strangling, but let's keep that for the bedroom, babe."

Steve groaned. "Come on, man."

You smirked, allowing Bucky to pull your back against his chest. He wrapped both arms around your waist and rested his head on your shoulders. "Sounds like Stevie boy needs a little fun."

"That's what it sounds like," you echoed Bucky's sentiments and Steve rolled his eyes when you suggested Carol up as a potential booty call. "What? She's fucking hot. Smart. Funny."

"Captain America, Captain Marvel..." Bucky slurred out a burp and the two of you busted into laughter - giggling like children. Steve instantly turned red and that just made the laughter louder until Carol called out to see what was so funny.

"Don't say a word," Steve grumbled under his breath, pulling at his shirt. "...stay here."

Bucky and you watched as Steve made his way to the booth, sliding next to Carol, who smiled at him. Sam looked over to you and Bucky held a hazy finger to his lips - the veteran understood and quickly excused himself from the booth. He didn't bother walking over to Bucky and you, because everyone knew the two of you were ridiculous together, sober or drunk. Most people couldn't stand being in a room with the two of you for more than a few minutes; hands all over each other or worse, jokes and laughter that seemed endless.

Turning to face your boyfriend, you squished his cheeks and he practically beamed. He was totally drunk and you were totally in love. He kissed you on the lips, at first gently but then his grip tightened at your waist and you buckled against his body.

"....so cute I could eat."

"What's stopping you? The bathroom is unisex..."

Bucky practically welp, gathering you up in his arms in a haste. Having a former super solider as a boyfriend had its perks - his stamina was endless, his physique would make a grown man cry, but his strength? That man could lift hundreds of pounds, so no matter your weight - this motherfucker made you feel light as a feather. And boy, you could get him stiff as a board.

"I just know you're thinking nasty shit," he groaned, moving you towards the bathroom.

"I am but pure of heart, James."

Bucky smiled contently, kicking the bathroom open. It was as good as a bar restroom could get. He placed you gently on the sink and made sure the door was locked. Two strides, that's all it took for him to get on his knees and pulling your panties down from under your skirt. His eyes rolled back for a moment as he took in the sight, but then he glanced up at you with a devilish smile as he firmly spread your legs.

"I love you," he whispered right before diving in-between your thighs.

Rendered speechless, all you could do was grip his hair and lean back into the sink mirror; the lowlights flickering as Bucky reminded you how much you loved drunk him. When all his inhibitions disappeared and he got to enjoy the little things in life - which included going to bars with your closest friends, running the highest of tabs, trying to hook up friends, and most importantly, going down on your girlfriend in a dingy bathroom.

[flickering-chandelier]

Eyes Full of Stars

Pairing: Modern! Azriel x Reader

Summary: Reader and Azriel grew up together, and eventually fell in love. But he disappeared one day without a trace, and she doesn’t see him again until he’s in attendance at her wedding years later. They reconnect as friends, but when things fall apart with her husband, they both start to wonder if they should try to rekindle what they once had. But, of course, nothing can ever be that simple…

Based on this request! 🩷

Warnings: pregnancy, cheating (not from Az), swearing, a lil smut

Word Count: 7k

You could practically hear your heartbeat in your ears as you stood at the end of the aisle in your wedding dress, waiting for your cue to walk into the room crowded with everyone you knew, your future husband waiting for you at the end of the line. You took a deep breath as the music swelled, your bouquet shaking in your hands as you took a step forward, then another. 

Relief flowed through you when your eyes locked on Tom’s, his smile bright as he drank in the sight of you in your dress for the first time. 

Your gaze flicked back and forth, along all the faces of your friends and family watching you. 

When your gaze met his though, shock ran through your entire body so swiftly that you nearly stopped dead in your tracks. 

Azriel?

His eyes widened too, and it took every ounce of strength you had to keep walking, to keep breathing. You felt frozen, completely unable to tear your eyes from his until you were moving past him. 

Your head was spinning. What was Azriel doing at your wedding? 

When you made it down the aisle, your hands were still shaking as Tom held them. He subtly raised his eyebrow as the officiant started talking. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to focus on Tom, on your husband, and not the man who had abandoned you without a word five years ago.

The ceremony was beautiful, exactly as you pictured it, and you did your best to focus on it. 

By the time the reception rolled around, you had managed to put Azriel out of your mind for the most part. 

That is, until you ran right into him on your way to the bathroom. His eyes widened, sucking in a deep breath as his gaze raked over you in your dress. “Hi,” he said softly, his hands tucked in his pockets.

“Hi?” You spat, doing your best to keep your voice low. “Hi? You disappear without a trace after everything and then you show up at my wedding and all you can say is hi?”

His mouth opened, and you could still read him well enough to know that he was frantically trying to form a response. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked. 

“I…” he trailed off and swallowed, his jaw flexing once. “I didn’t know this was your wedding. Tom is my co-CEO.”

“He…” your mind whirled, putting puzzle pieces together. “He told me your name, but I didn’t think…”

“No, I guess you wouldn’t assume that it was me,” he offered you a sad smile.

The two of you were silent for a moment as you both drank in the sight of the other. He looked good. In those hazel eyes, you could still see the boy who lived next door, and the man you fell in love with. The one you didn't think you would ever see again. 

“You look beautiful,” he said softly, his eyes swimming with emotion. 

“Thank you,” you murmured, unable to look away from him. “I can’t believe it’s really you.”

The side of his mouth turned up into a small half smile. “Imagine how I felt when I saw you walk down the aisle.”

A small laugh burst out of you before you could stop it. “A little shocking?”

“Just a bit,” he smiled, but his eyes looked sad, and it all came rushing back to you, that summer when he left, and the fall when he disappeared. The hurt, the panic, the confusion. 

“I should go,” you blurted, taking a step back from him. His slightly guilty expression was enough to tell you that he understood where your mind had gone. 

“Of course,” he said quietly. “Enjoy your night.”

You darted away without risking another word. 

---

The diner was busy as you and Azriel walked in, but your table was free and Emily the owner smiled at the two of you, nodding to your table. 

You both ordered the usual, and then settled in, an air of anxiety clouding both of your demeanors. 

“What if we don’t get in?” You asked, the envelope trembling in your hands. “Or worse, what if only one of us gets in?”

Azriel smiled warmly, putting his hand over yours to stop it from shaking. “We’ll figure it out, like we always do. It’s been you and me since the second grade, and nothing is going to change that, okay?”

You nodded, the tension leaving your body as you looked at your best friend. No matter what happened, you knew you could count on him, ever since he saved you from your bully in elementary school. You’d been inseparable for ten years now. You couldn’t imagine your life without him, and it terrified you to think that the two of you could be separating after graduation, even if he insisted that it wouldn’t happen.

His thumb traced the opening of his own envelope.

“Wait,” you blurted, and he smiled knowingly at you. “Can we just… wait a minute?”

Azriel pointedly placed his envelope on the table in front of him, and you did the same. 

“I haven’t seen you this nervous since your Geometry exam,” Azriel teased, his eyes twinkling. 

You groaned. “Geometry was really hard for me.”

He laughed. “I know it was.” 

Azriel’s expression sobered a bit then, as he leaned forward and looked at you intently. “What are you really so worried about?”

“I just want to get into the right college--”

“No,” he said, cutting you off, shaking his head slightly. “I know you. It’s something more than that. What’s going on?” he said softly. 

You took a deep breath, feeling like you could drown in those eyes of his. “I can’t lose you,” you said quietly, your voice breaking slightly. 

His eyes softened, his hand reaching for yours. “What are you talking about? You’re never going to lose me.”

Your gaze drifted to the envelopes. “What if--”

“No,” he said again. “Look at me.” 

He waited until you slowly lifted your eyes to meet his. “You’re not losing me. Not ever.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“Okay,” you said, taking a deep breath, steeling yourself to face the future. 

“Come here,” he said, nodding to his side of the booth. 

You looked at him questioningly. 

“Come on,” he laughed. “We should do this together.”

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders as you settled in next to him, pulling your body against his side. 

Azriel handed your envelope to you before taking his own. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

You held your breath as you both opened your envelopes, Azriel’s hand on your shoulder reassuring you that it would be okay, whatever the results were. 

He looked at you, hiding his letter against his chest, raising an eyebrow at you. 

“I got in,” you said, flipping yours around so he could see it. 

Azriel grinned, flipping his letter around for you to see. “Me too.”

And your heart absolutely soared. 

---

Tom wrapped his arms around your waist days later, burying his face in your neck. “You okay? You’ve seemed off lately.”

“I’m okay…” You trailed off. You had been plagued by thoughts of Azriel since the wedding, remembering all kinds of little moments throughout your life. You had been debating how to tell Tom about his coworker. 

“Are you sure?”

You turned around to face him, biting your lip anxiously. “You know Azriel?”

He furrowed his brow in confusion. “Yes?”

You took a deep breath. “You remember the guy I grew up with?”

“The one you dated and then he disappeared?”

You nodded. 

“Yes?”

Silently, you watched him put the pieces together, his expression changing as comprehension dawns on him. “No.”

You winced, nodding. “Yes.”

“Azriel?” he asked. 

“Yeah.”

“Oh my god.”

“I know.”

“You never found out what happened, right? Why he just left?” He asked, his eyes softening as he looked at you. 

“No,” you said quietly. 

“I can’t believe this. Are you okay?”

“I think so,” you said, looking up at him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “It’s just brought a lot back.”

He leaned down and kissed you gently. “Is there anything I can do?”

You shook your head, burying your face in his chest. “I just need to forget about it, I think.”

---

Azriel looked at you questioningly as you walked into his dorm room and slumped into his desk chair. 

“Boys are stupid,” you grumbled. 

It was hard to look Azriel in the eye in times like this. Lately, you’d been seeing Azriel in a different light. He had always been your best friend, but for the past few months you’ve had butterflies in your chest when he smiled at you or wrapped an arm around your shoulders. 

And god, he was gorgeous. You’d seen girls crushing on him in school before, of course, and had rolled your eyes and had a laugh about it. But now… Now, you understood. 

You’d gone on a few dates since coming to college, but you couldn’t get Azriel out of your mind long enough for them to actually go anywhere. 

“I think you’ve just been going out with the wrong guys,” Azriel said quietly from where he sat on his bed.

“Clearly,” you said, forcing down the little bubble of hope that formed at the tone in his voice. “What kind of guy do you think I should try to find?”

Azriel leveled his eyes on yours, his face as stoic as you’d ever seen it. “Someone who knows you,” he murmured after a beat of silence. “Someone who understands you.” 

Your breath caught in your throat as he held your gaze, trying to read between the lines of his words as he looked at you expectantly. 

“Someone who…” your stomach flipped as you forced the next words out, “I’ve known for a long time?”

He nodded, a muscle in his jaw ticking. “Someone who… loves you.” 

You were sure that you weren’t breathing at all now. “Someone like…?”

“Someone like me,” Azriel said gruffly. 

Your feet were moving toward him without your permission, and in a moment you were on the bed in front of him and his hands were in your hair, his lips on yours. 

“You love me?” you asked weakly against his lips. 

Azriel laughed. “Of course I do.”

It was a moment before you could pull yourself back from him and search his eyes. “I had no idea.”

He cupped your cheek in his hand, gazing at you with stars in his eyes. “Then you haven’t been paying attention.”

You laughed and kissed your best friend again. 

---

The elevator dinged and you fought the urge to frown when it was Azriel, not Tom that was waiting on the other side of it. You had been slightly worried about running into him when you’d decided to bring Tom lunch, but you figured that it was a big enough company that it would be unlikely. Clearly, you were wrong.

Azriel’s eyes dropped to the bag in your hands and winced slightly. “Tom’s out to lunch with a client.” 

You sighed, toying with the bag’s straps in your hands. “I guess I should’ve checked before I showed up, huh?”

He shot you that half smile that was so familiar to you, it made your knees wobble. “I think it was a last minute thing.”

You nodded, feeling awkward around Azriel for the first time in your life. 

After a moment, you took a step back, and Azriel reached out, grasping your arm so you wouldn’t run into the person that was quickly walking down the hallway who you hadn’t noticed. 

It was only a moment of embarrassment that you felt, because all the thoughts were quieted in your mind as you saw Azriel’s hand.

Scars. Horrible, deep scars that must have been from burns. A quick glance at his other hand showed the same thing. 

You sucked in a deep breath, unable to tear your eyes away. “Az,” you whispered. 

He flinched, flexing his fingers slightly, still gently wrapped around your arm. 

After a moment, you raised your eyes to meet his, and your heart constricted at how sad he looked. “I think it’s time I told you the truth.” 

---

You buried your face in Azriel’s chest, holding on tight. “I can’t believe I’m not going to see you for weeks.”

There were a lot of things that you couldn’t believe. You couldn’t believe that college was over. You couldn’t believe that your life was really going to start, with Azriel by your side. You couldn’t believe that Az had been dropping so many hints about rings and weddings. And you couldn’t believe that after spending nearly every day together for the past four years, that Azriel would be going home without you for several weeks.

“If you hadn't gotten a job before you even graduated like a badass, you could have come with me,” he teased, kissing the top of your head. 

You groaned, tightening your hold on his waist, resting your chin on his chest so you could look up at him. “I’m gonna miss you.”

He smiled, leaning down to kiss you sweetly. “I’ll miss you too, sweetheart. But it won’t be long.”

You nodded, feeling slightly reassured. “I love you.”

He kissed you again, murmuring, “I love you,” against your lips.

The weeks had come and gone, and you hadn’t heard anything from Azriel. At first, you figured that he was busy, that he was soaking up the time with his family, but now you weren’t so sure. 

How could it be that you hadn’t heard anything at all? Was he okay? Surely you would have been informed if something happened, right?

As more weeks passed, you knew. You knew that Azriel was not coming back. That he had abandoned you without so much as a text. He didn’t love you anymore, or maybe he never did. 

The one person that had been a constant in your life since you were seven years old, was just gone, disappeared completely. 

You could go home, you supposed. You knew where he had gone, after all. Your own parents were right next door. But what would be the point, if he clearly didn’t want you anymore?

Things had been perfect for so long. It didn’t make any sense. What could have possibly happened to make him throw you away so harshly?

How could you ever move on from him? From the one you had loved so intensely for so very long?

---

You were so shocked that you silently followed him to a near empty cafe just down the block. 

He cleared his throat after the two of you got settled, his hands clasped beneath the table. “You know that things were always… tense with my brothers.”

You nodded, feeling completely unable to form words, wondering what he could possibly be about to say. 

There was a moment of silence before he spoke again, and he raised his hands, placing them on the table in front of him. “When I went home after graduation, my brothers did this,” he said, nodding to his hands.

Your heart dropped into your stomach, and you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out and gently tracing a prominent scar with your fingertip. Your eyes started watering, and you did your best to blink the tears away. “How could they do this to you,” you whispered. 

He shrugged, way too nonchalantly for the circumstances. “I don’t know. They were… experimenting.” 

“Oh my god, Az,” you said quietly, quickly brushing the tears away before they could fall. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said softly, tentatively running his thumb along your free hand. “I’m sorry I never told you.”

“Why didn’t you?” You asked, finally able to meet his eyes again. “Why did you just disappear?”

His eyes were swimming with emotion, guilt clouding his features. “At first I couldn’t face anyone. I just wanted to disappear completely.”

You didn’t try to hide the tears now, letting them fall freely as you focused on him, finally learning the truth. 

“I was… messed up. It took me a long time to work through it and feel like myself again. And by then, I felt like it was too late to contact you and explain. I felt so guilty for just leaving without a word, and thought that you would hate me.” 

You smiled sadly. “I did hate you a bit,” you admitted. “You were everything to me, Az.”

Azriel swallowed, his eyes softening. “I know. You were to me, too.”

Your mind was swirling, picturing Azriel all those years ago, hurt and alone. “I do wish you would have told me. But I do understand why. I can’t believe that happened to you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he said sadly. “I should have.”

It was then you both seemed to realize that your hands were still touching and he slowly pulled away, settling his hands beneath the table again. It had felt like old times until then, and suddenly you were brought back to the present, to the world where you were married and Azriel was barely an acquaintance. 

You weren’t sure where to go from there. 

---

It had been a rough day. You hadn’t done well on the test you had studied all night for, you spilled your coffee all over yourself, and you hadn’t had anything to eat all day. 

The moment you walked into your apartment, you knew that Azriel could tell you hadn’t had a good day. 

Azriel took the backpack from your shoulders, immediately wrapping you up in his arms and resting his chin on the top of your head. “Bad day?”

You just nodded, burying your face in his chest. 

“What can I do?” he asked. 

“Mmm…” you thought for a moment. “Food?”

He chuckled, kissing the top of your head. “Do you want me to make something, or do you want takeout?���

You shrugged, exhausted. “Whatever you want.”

Az suggested that you go take a shower, and assured you that he would take care of it. 

By the time you walked back into the kitchen, you already felt better, dressed in your pajamas and endlessly thankful for Azriel.

He was putting your favorite comfort food on a plate as you sat at the table, warmth flooding through your chest as he placed the plate in front of you. 

“Thank you so much, Az,” you sighed happily. 

Azriel kissed the top of your head again, gently rubbing the tension out of your shoulders as you started eating. 

A short time later, the two of you were cuddling in bed, the stress of the day completely falling away at his touch. 

“I don’t know what I would do without you,” you murmured into his skin.

“You’ll never have to find out, sweetheart,” he said. 

And you believed him.

---

You felt like your whole world had changed after you found out the truth of why Azriel had left. Your heart broke for him, for what he went through at the hands of his own family, and how alone he must have felt. 

It kept running through your mind, all the years with Azriel, all the years without him when you were in the dark. 

You tried to forget about it, tried to focus on your life now, on your life with your new husband, but it was honestly difficult. Azriel had been the most important part of your life for so long, and now that he was back in your life, even in the smallest increments, it had you thinking about the past all the time. 

What made you get stuck in your thoughts even more was how off Tom seemed lately. You had never felt so distant from him, and you weren’t sure if it was because of Azriel plaguing your mind, something that was bothering Tom, or some combination of the two. 

These thoughts were swirling around your mind as you ran your Saturday errands. You had asked Tom if he wanted to join you, but unsurprisingly, he had declined. 

You were debating what to get in the cereal aisle when Azriel appeared beside you. 

He smiled at you somewhat sheepishly. It had been weeks since that afternoon when he finally told you everything, and you hadn’t seen him since. 

“How have you been?” you asked. 

“The last few weeks, or the last few years?” he smiled, raising an eyebrow.

You laughed lightly, “I guess we’ve both missed a lot.”

It was hard to think about: everything about him that you had missed. 

“We could… catch up? If you wanted?”

You couldn't help but hesitate. You wanted to. Of course you did. But you weren't sure if it was a good idea.

One look at his hopeful face though, and all other thoughts flew from your mind. 

“Let's do it.”

The two of you finished your grocery shopping and got coffee down the street. 

After only a few minutes, you both resorted back to your old selves, any awkwardness dissipating as you discussed the last few years.

You couldn't help the swell of pride you felt as he explained how he had worked his way up in the company, becoming the co-CEO, just like Tom did.

It was crazy, how he had come back into your life, and you wondered if it would be possible to go back to how you were when you were kids, if you could possibly have your best friend back.

But then you remembered college, those long nights together, when he had told you in so many different ways that you were his. How loved you felt, how perfect you thought your life would be with him.

He could sense the shift in you, you knew that he could.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “Just… thinking. Remembering.”

He nodded, seemingly understanding exactly the kind of things you were remembering.

“How did you and Tom meet?” He asked, his voice dropping slightly.

It was clear that he was just trying to change the subject, and honestly, you found it difficult to tell him the story of how Tom had slowly picked up the pieces of you that Azriel had left behind. You kept it somewhat vague, not necessarily wanting to subject him to too many details. You certainly knew that you wouldn't want to hear all the gory details of whoever he had been with in the last five years. 

You secretly wondered if it was hard for Azriel to work with Tom, after everything that had happened. You and Tom hadn't talked about it since that night you told him that you knew Azriel.

Before you even realized it, it had been nearly two hours, and you realized that you should get home. 

“This was fun,” you said, unable to wipe the smile off your face.

“It was,” Azriel smiled back and your heart beat a little faster. “Whenever you need a friend, I'm still here for you, you know.”

“You, too.”

A few days later, Tom had told you in the morning that he would be staying at work late, and suggested that you go out with some of your girl friends. You hadn’t seen them in a while, and you thought it would be nice to spend some time not worrying over your ex and your husband. 

You had been out with them for a few hours, and had returned home exhausted, but glad that you took some time to get away from everything. 

Tom’s car was in the driveway, and you were a bit surprised. He was back much earlier than he said he would be. 

You heard Tom’s deep grumble as you walked in the door, but what you weren’t expecting was the feminine giggle that came after it. You froze, dead in your tracks. 

Surely there could be a reasonable explanation that didn’t involve your husband sleeping with another woman, right? 

Although… he had been acting differently lately. Was this the reason? Had he been having an affair?

Your stomach was churning as you walked up to your bedroom, where the sounds were getting louder. 

That was it, then. Was there even a point in opening the door? Was it worth it to see something that you would never be able to unsee, something that would surely haunt your nightmares?

You would need proof, you supposed, to assure that you were right. To assure that he knew what you had found out. 

Like ripping off a bandaid, you quickly flung open the door, and there he was, naked in your bed with a secretary from the office underneath him.

“How cliche,” you choked out, desperate to keep any last shred of dignity that you could.

They both turned quickly to look at you, their eyes wide in surprise, Tom’s mouth open as if he was about to come up with some excuse. 

But, you didn’t want to hear it. You spun on your heels and ran out of that house, into the car, and away as fast as you could. In your rearview mirror, you saw him on the lawn in his boxers, watching you leave. 

You went to the only place you could think of. The only place that you knew, despite everything, you would be okay. 

Suddenly, you were thankful that Azriel told you what apartment building he was now living in during your little catch-up at the cafe only days ago. 

It took some time to find the right apartment, but then he was opening the door in a black t-shirt and gray sweatpants and he was looking at you with the most concerned expression. 

“I really need a friend right now,” you sniffed. 

As soon as he ushered you inside, the dam broke and you were sobbing, your body spasming in a way that it hadn’t done since Azriel had disappeared from your life all those years ago. 

He didn’t say anything, didn’t ask questions, he just held you, settling you both on the couch and stroking your hair, murmuring reassuring things against your ear until you could breathe again. 

“He cheated on me,” you finally whispered, and his arms stiffened around you. “I think he has been for a while.”

“Fuck,” he said quietly, but with more venom than you had ever heard. “I can’t believe him. I’m so sorry,” he said, his tone becoming softer as he continued to stroke your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head like he had your whole life. 

A swell of emotion went through you at the contact, and you buried your face in his chest, wondering what your life would be like now if Azriel had never gone home after graduation. If he had been yours this entire time. 

The way it should’ve been.

“I never thought he was good enough for you,” Azriel murmured against your ear, sounding hesitant. 

“No?” you asked. 

“Of course not,” he lightly ran his hand down your arm and you shivered. “He’s so cocky.”

You laughed humorlessly, leaning into Azriel’s touch. “He is, isn’t he?”

The two of you sat back in companionable silence after that, Azriel gently running his hand along your arms, your back, soothing you in ways that you couldn't fathom. You should still be furious, you thought. But instead you just felt… safe. For the first time in a long time. 

“You’ve been on my mind a lot lately, Az.”

He stiffened very slightly and waited a moment before responding. “You’ve been on my mind a lot, too.”

You turned around to face him, and you swore his eyes were sparkling in the dim light, the way they used to when he looked at you. “Do you ever think about…what could have happened? If things were different.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “All the time.”

Your blood rushed in your ears as you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his. 

He pulled back, saying your name like a warning. “We shouldn’t.”

“Why shouldn’t we?” You asked. “You don’t want to?”

Azriel looked pained. “It’s not that I don’t want to. You’re vulnerable right now. Your emotions are all over the place, understandably. I won’t take advantage of you.”

“Az,” you said, looking him straight in the eye. “This is the first time in five years that things feel right. I promise you’re not taking advantage of me.”

He sighed as you lightly ran your fingertips along his bicep. “It’s a bad idea.”

You couldn’t resist kissing him softly one more time. “You’re saying you don’t want to?” you murmured, pulling away just slightly.

“I’m saying,” he paused and his eyes darkened as he looked at you, “it’s a bad idea.”

“Az,” you whispered. 

And that was all it took for him to mutter “Fuck,” and take your face in his hands, kissing you fiercely, like he had been drowning and you were his only source of oxygen.

You balled your fist in his shirt, pulling him closer to you, your other hand buried in the hair at the back of his neck.

He groaned and the sound brought you right back to your past, to every night you used to spend together. 

Heat rushed right through you, and all at once, you couldn't get enough of him.

“I never should’ve left,” he rasped against your lips. “I’ve regretted it every day since.”

“We’re here now,” you panted, rolling your hips against his, and he held you even tighter.

It wasn’t long before you needed more, pulling his shirt up over his head. He sucked in a breath as you ran your hands down his chest, your eyes fixed on his abs, the hard lines of his arms. 

He toyed with the hem of your shirt, looking at you questioningly. 

When you nodded, he pulled your shirt over your head painstakingly slowly, his eyes drinking in the sight of you like he’d been waiting his whole life for this. 

You kissed him again, your hands trailing down to the waistband of his pants.

Azriel wrapped his hand around your wrist, stilling your movements. “Are you sure we should go further? It’s…”

“A bad idea,” you agreed, surging forward to kiss him again. 

“A really bad idea,” he murmured, holding your face in his hands again, kissing you gently. 

“I want you, Az,” you sighed against him.

He groaned, pulling you closer against him and picking you up, carrying you to his bedroom. 

Lowering you onto the bed, he hovered over you, kissing down your neck, across your chest.

“God, I’ve missed you,” he groaned. 

“I missed you,” you admitted, pulling his pants down to reveal that he wasn't wearing any boxers.

“Oh my god,” you moaned, and within a few moments you were completely bare underneath him, and he was lining himself up with your entrance.

“Are you sure?” He asked, his forehead resting against yours.

“I'm sure, Az,” you promised, and without another moment's hesitation, he pushed forward, slowly sliding into you.

Muscle memory seemed to overtake both of you, and you easily slid back into your old routine as he hit your sweet spot again and again while you raked your fingers down his back.

It didn't take long before you were on the edge, and you still knew him well enough to know that he was right there with you.

You held his face in your hands as you both came undone and he pressed gentle kisses along your cheekbones and your forehead as he caught his breath.

A little while later, you were laying together, tangled up in the sheets and you smiled, tracing the birthmark on his thigh.

You weren't sure where things would go from here, but you did know that in this moment, you were nothing but happy.

---

For the next few weeks, you tried to push forward and act like your life hadn't completely upended.

You got a divorce lawyer. You'd been staying at a friend's house. You had been seeing Azriel quite a bit, but you both decided it would be best to stay out of the bedroom until everything was settled with Tom, to avoid complicating things even further.

Still, you couldn't stop the butterflies that flew through your chest every time Azriel smiled at you. Tom had broken your heart, absolutely, but maybe it was giving you the chance to try things again with the one who got away.

Things seemed to be looking up, until you realized that your period was late. Really late.

Your hands were shaking as you turned the pregnancy test over and saw two little lines.

Suddenly, your world was upended all over again.

Azriel went pale the moment you told him. “You’re… staying with him?”

“What else can I do?” you asked, exasperated. “I’m pregnant, Az. This changes everything.”

“Does it? Does it change that he cheated on you, huh?” Azriel seethed. 

You sighed. “You know it’s more complicated than that.”

“Is it?” he asked. “And how are you even sure the baby is his?”

“Of course it’s his,” you said, growing more and more frustrated. “It was only once, Az. It can’t be yours.”

“It can’t be? You sound like a high schooler.”

“Come on, be serious. The odds are miniscule,” you retaliated.

“No matter who’s baby it is, you can’t stay with someone who treats you like that.”

“What else am I supposed to do?”

“Leave him,” he roared. “Be with me.”

“Az,” you said quietly. “I can’t.”

“You can,” he said, cupping your face in his rough hands, running his thumb along your cheekbone. 

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your mind, to focus, but it was impossible when he was holding you so gently and he was looking at you like that, his eyes pleading. “I … I need to think,” you stammered out. 

His disappointment was obvious, but after a moment, he nodded, reluctantly taking a step back from you. “Okay,” he said gruffly. “Let me know if you need anything.”

---

Even though you were both broke, Azriel had taken you out to your favorite restaurant just because, and you were reminded for about the millionth time that you were so unbelievably in love with him. 

With graduation looming and the future uncertain, you had found yourself spending as much time as possible with him. Not that you didn’t before, but now it felt heightened somehow, like you had to soak in every moment with him that you could get. 

He held your hand in his across the table, toying with the ring on your middle finger, sliding it up and down over your finger, before sliding it off completely and moving it to your ring finger, running his thumb across it in its new spot. 

You looked up at him and the corner of his mouth turned up into a slight smile. So, he had done it on purpose, then. Your stomach flipped. 

“Looks good there,” he murmured.

Rolling your eyes goodnaturedly, you tried your absolute best not to read into it too much. “You’re an idiot,” you laughed.

He laughed, bringing your hand up to his mouth and brushing a kiss along your knuckles. “I’m serious,” he claimed, his smile brighter now. “The future is coming up soon, you know.” 

His eyes were full of stars as you gazed at him. All you could say was, “It is.”

“When we were kids, did you ever think we would end up here? Together?” he asked suddenly.

You furrowed your brows, thinking for a moment. “I don’t know. I definitely couldn’t have dreamed this up, though.” You smiled at him. “How perfect things have been, I mean.”

His expression lit up even more and you felt the butterflies in your stomach that he had given you for years. “I think I always knew deep down that we were meant to be together,” he said quietly. 

“Good thing it all worked out, then,” you beamed, glancing down again at the ring he had moved.

He followed your gaze, smiling. “Of course it did. What other option is there?”

---

Your head was spinning. You didn’t know what to do. Obviously, staying with Tom would be awful, after everything he had put you through. But, this pregnancy changed things. You couldn’t in good conscience keep him from his baby. And it had to be his baby, didn’t it? Nothing else made sense. 

But Azriel. You hadn’t known that he felt that way. That he was so ready to jump into being with you again. Just a little while ago, you had thought that was what you wanted. But, was it still true, if you were going to be raising Tom’s baby?

It was all too much, too complicated. 

You needed time alone.

After about a week without contact from Tom or Azriel, you had come to a somewhat tentative decision. 

Azriel’s relief after you had told him you’re not staying with Tom was obvious, and that made it so much harder to tell him the next part: “But I’m not ready to start something with you right now,” you admitted. “I need time by myself, to move on from my failed, embarrassingly short marriage, and to figure out how to be a mom.”

He nodded, his eyes full of emotion. “I understand. I’m sorry if I put too much pressure on you.”

His soft tone made you want to weep. “You didn’t. Thank you for understanding.”

There seemed to be something else eating away at him. “What’s wrong?” you asked after a moment.

“Can we still be friends?” he asked hesitantly. “I can’t stand the thought of losing you completely again.”

You smiled for what felt like the first time in ages. “Of course we can be friends.”

And so, time passed, and it was Azriel who helped you move into your new apartment, who often drove you to doctor’s appointments, and was overall the one who was picking up the pieces of your shattered life. 

He never mentioned anything romantic after that day, but you could tell when it was on his mind, and you couldn’t deny that it had been on your mind more and more as the months passed and you felt like you were healing from Tom. 

But you were also more and more nervous about becoming a mother, and how in the world would you be able to juggle a new relationship when you became a mom?

It wouldn’t be an entirely new relationship, though, would it? With Azriel… in some ways it felt like no time had passed at all, you fell right back into step together. So, wouldn't a romantic relationship be the same way? 

You could never be sure until you tried, and that scared you, too. 

The months kept passing, and before you knew it, you were holding your baby boy in your arms, absolutely transfixed by him. 

After all the excitement died down, you got to have a moment alone with him, running your hands over his tiny arms, his tiny legs. 

Your fingers froze when you noticed a small birthmark on his thigh, exactly like the one Azriel had in the same spot. 

Surely that meant that Azriel was right. He was the father. All this time, Azriel had been the father of your baby. 

You were surprised by the intense relief you felt, the flood of emotion. 

After you took a few more minutes for yourself, you invited Azriel in from where he had been patiently sitting in the waiting room for hours. 

He looked relieved when he walked in, like he had been worried about you and the baby. His face softened immediately as he looked at the baby in your arms, gently running his finger along the baby’s arm. “He’s beautiful,” he murmured, before studying your face. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” you smiled. “I need to show you something, Az.”

Azriel just looked at you questioningly before you turned the baby to face Azriel and pointed at the birthmark. 

His brow furrowed. “That looks like mine.”

You nodded, biting your lip nervously. “I think I owe you an apology… Az, I think this is your son.”

Azriel’s eyes immediately filled with tears as he looked back and forth between you and the baby. “My son,” he whispered. “Our son.”

He let out a giddy laugh that made you want to cry and looked somewhat sheepishly at you. “Can I hold him?”

You held the baby out to him, and he gingerly took him in his arms, staring down at his face with all the love in the world.  

“Are you happy?” you asked after a moment. 

He looked at you incredulously, settling into the chair beside your hospital bed with your son in his arms. “Are you kidding? Of course I’m happy.”

In that moment, you knew you couldn’t wait any longer. “Azriel?” He tore his eyes away from the baby and looked at you. “Kiss me,” you whispered.

He was obviously surprised, but did as you asked, leaning in slowly and kissing you gently. 

“I love you,” you whispered. “I want to be with you… if that’s still what you want.”

“Of course that’s what I want,” he laughed incredulously, leaning in to kiss you again. 

He kissed you slowly until your head spun and he finally leaned back. 

“I never stopped loving you,” he whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Not for a second.”

Your heart broke a little. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”

“Don’t be,” he said gently. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

The two of you sat there, basking in the moment under the fluorescent lights. This, somehow, was everything you pictured your life would be, and now it was finally yours. 

@loving-and-dreaming @birdsflyhome @hanuh @sheblogs @iambored24601 @thalia-as-blog @ecliphttlunar @melmo567 @headacheseason @sillysillygoose444 @halibshepherd @cigvrette-dvydrevms @lilah-asteria @evergreenlark @bookloverandalsocats @azrielshadows1nger @marina468 @yourqueenlilith @mariamay02 @andreperez11

[navybrat817]

Can lumberjack Bucky take care of me?

Yes, nonnie.

To-Do List

Pairing: Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky shares a list of things to do with you when you wake up. Word Count: Over 600 Warnings: Fluff, pet names, talk of sex, light humor, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: More Burly and Bambi . @tavners, can we manifest this? ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky’s spot on the bed beside you is cool when you wake up and reach for him, seeking out his warmth. You don’t want to start the day cold.

But he’s back in the bedroom before you can get up to look for him, a tray in his hands and a smile on his face as you yawn.

The shirtless sight of your burly man is enough to chase any lingering tiredness away.

“Wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed, Bambi,” he says as he sets the tray over you and lets you look over the feast he prepared. “You drooling over the food or me?” he teases.

You wipe at your chin, thinking for a moment that you did drool. “Both,” you smile, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear once he gets back in bed. “What’s the occasion?”

It isn't your birthday and or anniversary. No reason to celebrate anything.

“No reason at all, darling,” he answers, sincerity in his bright eyes before he presses a kiss to your forehead. “Just want to take care of you.”

Your heart flutters because no other guy had ever done anything for you just because they wanted to. “You take very good care of me,” you promise, feeding him a bite.

You watch him lick his lips after his bite, your heart fluttering for an entirely different reason. “This is just a start,” he says, feeding you a bite in return.

You would never turn down his cooking or him feeding you.

“What else could you possibly have planned? You have to work.”

“No work today,” he replies, nodding to a small piece of paper beside the plate.

A smile spreads across your face due to the impromptu day off before you pick up the sheet and scan it, recognizing his handwriting. “‘Burly and Bambi’s To Do List’,” you announce as he chuckles. “Breakfast in bed.”

“Check,” he smiles, feeding you another bite.

“Cuddle in bed,” you continue.

“After breakfast.”

A giggle bubbles up when you read the next thing on the list. “This just says ‘Each other’,” you state, which you would happily help him cross off.

He puts a hand on his chest when you laugh more. “Are you making fun of my list? You wound me.”

“I’m not,” you promise. Any excuse to do your lumberjack, you’ll take it.

“Good. Because I have us doing each other as number 6,” he smirks, your throat dry when his gaze falls to your chest. “And 9.”

You laugh all over again, careful not to shake the tray. “6 and 9? 69? Really?”

“It’s a good number,” he says nonchalantly. “And as your personal lumberjack, I’ll also be happy to split you in half.”

It’s a tempting offer and you’ll take him up on it. “After we eat.”

“Good idea,” he agrees, popping a bite of fruit into his sinful mouth. “You need your strength.”

“Cocky,” you whisper, but he’s right. You do need your strength because he’s insatiable. “You also have watch a movie together and snuggle with a blanket under the stars.”

“I’ll keep you nice and warm,” he promises, gesturing to the sheet. “Flip it over.”

You’re not sure how you manage to hold back tears as you read it, falling more in love with Bucky as you read out loud, “Tell Bambi how much I love her every day.”

He grasps your chin so you can’t hide your face. “I love you, Bambi,” he whispers, pressing his soft lips against yours.

You ask yourself how you’re lucky enough to be his girl as you kiss him back. “I love you, too, Burly.”

And you would tell him every day, too.

These two. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[bloodsbane]

what i love about laios is that he's actually very good at putting puzzle pieces together BUT HERE'S THE THING 1) he needs to HAVE the information, and 2) (this is important) he needs to KNOW it is information he should care about

and i think this could be said of anyone but the thing with laios is that people tend to view his lack of awareness wrt social etiquette and memory problems as pure indifference and/or obliviousness; sometimes they misinterpret his motives based on their inaccurate expectations of him and therefore don't give his thoughts on a subject the credit he deserves

one of the most obvious examples of this happens at least twice in the manga as i remember it, but the most recent incident was when they were trying to resurrect falin. there's a moment where laios mentions reconstructing both of the warg skeletons, as their bones are mixed in with hers. both chilchuck and senshi balk at this, with chilchuck complaining aloud, questioning laios' priorities,

and laios quickly, angrily retorts. his reason for making the suggestion is perfectly logical and practical, but because his friends are used to his interest in monsters influencing his judgement, often in ways they see as frivolous or dangerous, they don't come to the same conclusion. one which i'd argue is kind of obvious considering the situation

we see it again during his fight with toshiro, where toshiro demands to know what laios plans to do to save falin. laios takes a minute to answer, but he DOES answer, following the logic that if falin is a chimera because of (and controlled by) the mad mage, then the logical next step is to confront/defeat/usurp them

then in the following episode, when chilchuck brings it up again, laios explains what he (now) knows about thistle, mentioning that he's the same elf that laios saw in the living paintings, which is why he knows thistle's connection to delgal. the party reacts like this:

i'd say this is an example of them feeling frustration over laios' habit of having 'bad timing', not knowing when or how to speak at appropriate moments. theyre judging him for not saying something earlier, as if he already knew all this but didn't think to mention it when it was relevant, when the reality is that laios only just now had all the pieces he needed to understand the full picture

and i mention this bit specifically because i think it's a great way to explain what i mean by point 2: laios needs to know when information is important and worth considering

which, again, feels fucking obvious. but as someone who ALSO has debilitating issues with remembering important shit, i find this particular element of it pretty relatable and critical to my overall point. it's not laios' fault that he didn't know who thistle was or his significance - why the hell would he assume that a person he met in a living painting, presumably long since dead in reality, should be someone who's face, name, or motives he keeps in mind?

ultimately, i guess what i'm trying to say with all this is that the way others treat laios' intelligence is not congruent to how actually smart he is. one of the things i love most about laios, what is possibly his biggest strength and the reason he is such a great protagonist, is that laios is willing to think things through and find the most logical conclusion to a problem, no matter how outlandish or dangerous or seemingly impossible that conclusion may be. sister got eaten? race back down to go get her. can't afford food? fight, defeat, and eat dangerous monsters. sister's fully digested? use black magic to bring her back. now she's a chimera? defeat the mage controlling her and use that power to fix it.

anyways. what was even my point with this post? i guess it is that laios is smart, at least as smart as anyone else in the cast, arguably smarter than some. he is intelligent and utilizes that intelligence in many ways, not JUST when it comes to monster info (though that is his best and sexiest brand of knowledge)

and also please be nice to your friends with memory problems. it's rough out here for forgetful bitches

[seresinhangmanjake]

The One I Want: Part 16

Jake Seresin x plus size!reader

Summary: You're new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Warnings: a little smut

Words: 1500

The One I Want Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag List

“I can’t tell you much,” Jake had told you, but you knew that. “We’re not a hundred percent in the clear, but it’s looking like four weeks, maybe five.”

“Beats fifteen,” you’d said, hearing a rewarding chuckle in return. 

You were thankful no one could witness the mess you were at that moment, your face-splitting grin heavily contrasting the puffiness of your eyes from tears. But that was just the beginning of weeks of inner turmoil. 

For forty-eight days, your stomach has swirled a storm that’s consistently had you on the edge of nausea, whether from anxiety regarding his safety or butterflies at the thought of Jake returning. You miss him, more than you thought yourself willing to, and regardless of what he told you, nothing guarantees he will walk through the door of your apartment. And if he doesn’t, you know exactly what will happen to you. You’ll crumble into unsalvageable pieces, and no one—not Millie, not Rooster, not anyone who has been kind to you over the last months—will be able to put you back together. 

And then what? Your only choice will be to leave. Start anew. Twelfth new place. Except this time, you’ll be more numb, less human, less operable on a daily basis. It’ll be like waking from a dream to a gray environment. You fear nature will lose its color, and you will lose your light once again.

—

It’s another week before your phone rings with a name other than Millie’s plastered across the screen. Unknown Number, but the first three digits are recognizable, matching those of the number Jake has been using to call you with. What you hear on the other end of the line, however, is not Jake, but instead, a gruff voice asking you to confirm your identity. 

“Yes,” you answer. “That’s me.”

The man clears his throat. “You are the emergency contact for Lieutenant Jake Seresin. We’d like you to come down to our medical facility as soon as possible,” he says before providing you directions.

You drop your phone, and then you’re running. Running to his truck, running from his truck to base, running through halls until you find someone willing to lead you to him. You’re so terrified, your arms jittery, legs barely functioning from the panic of Jake’s pending fate, so overwhelmed by nerves that when you finally do see him, it pisses you off. 

That man with the voice that imbued you with dread is on your shit list for life. Maybe next time, he could lead an emergency contact call with He’s fine or Don’t worry, because his implication was severe enough that you feared lost limbs or damaged brain functioning. But there Jake is, not in a coma or with some life-threatening injury, but sitting on the edge of a bed in a room with his back to you as a nurse seals a strip of medical tape across a small patch of shaved hair on the side of his head.  

When she’s done with her work, she smiles at Jake and nods at something he says before walking out of the room. She jumps at the unexpected figure lingering just outside the door, and then realization dawns. 

“Oh, you must be the girlfriend,” she says. “You’re welcome to go on in.”

So you do, cautiously easing into the room, hoping that when he turns, his face won’t be covered in slashes and bruises—a sight you’re not sure you can handle with strength and maturity. You’d love him all the same, but to see him in such pain would take you to your knees. But again, he’s fine. Beautiful as ever. Not a mark on him that you can see save for the one on the mend. 

Jake’s face brightens at the sight of you; he practically glows, and you’re shocked to discover yourself not running into his arms. You’re frozen for a moment as you take him in. It’s a quick moment—a brief second to recover—but then you’re stepping to him, your eyes watering, your bottom lip quivering, your fingers reaching up to brush over the stark white tape. You’re careful with your feathery touch, relieved to see that his injury is not so sensitive as to make him wince.

Jake’s arms wrap around your waist. His eyes do not break from your face. He’s patient as you scan him once more for visible injuries, verifying for your own sake.

“It’s just the one,” he tells you, his voice soft and only a few notes above a whisper. Your eyes snap to his. He lifts his hand to cup your cheek, thumb stroking your cheekbone. “Come here, beautiful.”

You melt when his lips gently touch yours, but the kiss doesn’t last long as innocent. There’s bites and sucking and giving and taking, and it’s perfect in its semi-sloppy neediness. Voices passing by the door is what breaks the two of you apart. Jake lightly groans before he chuckles and rests his forehead against yours. 

“I missed you,” he says. He places another quick peck on your lips. “I want to take you home.”

“Then take me home.”

—

“J-Jake!”

You feel his mouth curve against your core before he licks another stripe right through you, tongue like a heated blade slicing you in two halves, spreading you open and baring you inside and out. You’re completely gone—lost in the sole way you’re willing to be lost—as Jake tethers you to this earth. He’s the only one you trust to ground you while simultaneously letting your head float amongst the clouds. 

His arms curl around the thickness of your thighs, locking onto you and keeping your hips steady atop the mattress as he devours and tastes and sucks and licks some more.  

“Come on, beautiful,” he mumbles into your folds, just loud enough for you to hear through the rush of blood in your ears. “Let me have it.”

As if you could hold it back. 

Your whole body jerks and writhes as you sink into pleasure, back arching, head digging into the pillow. Jake reaches a hand up to intertwine your fingers and you squeeze them tightly while he continues to kiss folds and brush his nose against the overstimulated bud.

“There we go,” he coos until your body calms.

Jake crawls onto the bed, lips and tongue traveling up the soft flesh of your stomach, between the valley of your breasts, into the dip in your throat before he kisses you, demanding you taste everything you just gave him. 

Jake introduced you to your taste during those weeks before his deployment. His head lived between your legs. He showed you how to perch perfectly on his face, encouraging you through your concerns of suffocating him. He begged you to relax when he backed you up against the wall, slipped your pants off, knelt, and tossed your leg over his shoulder as he dove in. And after each success of making you crumble to pieces, he sealed his lips to yours and pushed his tongue into your mouth. 

You know your taste as well as you know his, and on the occasions he spills down your throat before he returns the favor, you get the satisfaction of the combination on your tongue—a mixture more intoxicating than an alcoholic binge. 

“I’m never going to want anything like I want you,” he says after he slips inside of you, the intensity of the love in his eyes penetrating your soul.

“Then it's good that I’m yours,” you whisper back.

Thrusts that were paced and steady and gentle falter. With your words comes a sharp rut of his hips—unexpected to you both—that hits hard, deep. Jake chokes on the air in his lungs, his eyes snapping shut as you cry out. 

“Fuck” hisses through the grit of his teeth. Then he finds his pace again. 

His head falls to your neck. Nibbles make you gasp, and the image of examining claiming bruises in the mirror first thing come morning causes your walls to clench around the veiny column moving in and out of you. Your fingers fist into his hair. Nails dig into the toned muscle of his ass. 

“I do love you, Jake,” you say. 

He stops completely, but you don’t question it. The fingers in his hair loosen and you lightly scrape your nails along his scalp, down to the base of his neck, then back up into blond locks. Turning your head, you stamp a tender kiss onto his temple. 

Jake doesn’t say a thing. He doesn’t look at you. His thick breaths burn the delicate skin just under your ear. When he begins to move, he’s slow, taking his time before he picks up, working to nudge that special spot inside of you that tightens a white-hot coil in your belly. 

“I love you so much, beautiful,” he whispers.

[starrywilliams]

END OF DESIRE

sub!abby x reader

summary: abby hates distractions when she’s reading, but this distraction is very welcome.

notes: short bc i don’t have the motivation to write anything long…!!! i used the iliad for this bc she has it and it physically hurts me to not write as lore accurate as i possibly can

warnings: not proof read !!!! cunnilingus, fingering, (both abby!receiving), yeah it’s just kinda filthy idk…

nsfw under the cut!

leant up against the headboard was a trembling girl, fingers tightening around the faded paperback with all her strength. “keep going abby.” you whispered, “if you stop, i stop, okay?” you reminded her of the agreement, nails pushing gently into the flesh of her thighs, a small whimper falling past her lips.

she took in a deep and shaky breath, pushing the glasses back up her nose. “helen has nothing but her b-“ she gasped softly as she felt your tongue drag over her clit, earning a harsh stare from below. “b-beauty. and the charm it casts on all men,” another whine escaped her throat as you left small, wet kisses around the edges of her pussy.

“without aphrodite she would be n-nothing.” she stumbled over her words, struggling to focus with your touch between her sensitive thighs. “you’re doing so well, don’t stop.” you smiled, the incoming cruelty begin to pervade your consonants. “and aphrodite plays the same role on olympus as on ear- fuck!”

she whimpered as your tongue pushed into her, hips bucking off the bed. you slapped her thigh, reminding her of what she was supposed to be doing. “shit, sorry,” she apologised breathlessly, restarting the sentence. “and aphrodite plays the same role on olympus as on earth.”

she swallowed harshly, fingers quickly swiping over her foggy glasses so she could keep reading. she sighed as she felt one of your fingers replace your tongue, pushing deep into her. she met your eyes, understanding that you weren’t gonna move until she continued.

“she gives hera, who wants to diverttt-“ the word faded into a whine as you curled your finger inside her, her head hitting the headboard with a light thud. “baby, you don’t want me to stop, do you?” your coquettish voice had her squeezing her eyes shut, head shaking. “n-no.” she sighed, looking back down to the blurry pages.

“divert zeus’s attention from the battle so poseidon,” abby whimpered breathily, your increasing pace making it impossible to concentrate. “ so poseidon can help the archaeans, the breast-“ a second finger sinking inside of her aching hole cutting off the word midway through. “keep going.” your stern voice left no other option for the desperate girl.

“-band, pierced and alluring, with every kind of enchantment woven through it.” abby breathed in heavily, legs trembling over your shoulders. your fingers kept up their unforgiving pace, stretching her out in the best way possible. with each thrust inside her, she could feel her high getting tugged closer and closer - whines slipping off her tongue endlessly. but she was supposed to be reading.

“fuck, w-why did you stop?” she said, voice hoarse and desperate. between your vexed eyes, glaring up at her, and the disbelief lining your slight grin, it didn’t take long for her to piece together your reasoning. “i’ll keep reading, just-just don’t stop, please?” she rambled, slightly high-pitched in her frantic desire, pulling the book back up before her face.

“there is the heat of love,” feeling kind, you’d started again, the sound of her struggling to get out her words coherently far better than anything else. “the pulsing rush of longing,” you could feel the need rushing all over your fingers, she was fucking soaking.

“the lover’s whisperrr-“ abby whined, feeling your lips attach to her aching clit, tongue swiping over the swollen bud. “irresistible.” she stuttered, all attention drawn to the stimulation that threatened to envelop her entire body soon. but she knew better now, she had to keep going.

“madness to make,” her thighs were shivering around your head, pussy pulsing around your fingers, while a spare hand laced itself into your hair - keeping you as close as she possibly could. “the sanest man go mad- fuckfuckfuck,”

her hips were grinding against your face, incomprehensible noises spilling out of her throat as you continued to fuck her. “go on baby, you can do it.” you mumbled against her clit, feeling her tighten around your fingers within seconds.

“ohmygodthankyouthankyou-“ her barely coherent words slipped aimlessly out of her mouth as she gushed all over your fingers. you kept going, replacing your fingers with your tongue, tasting her desperately. when you tried to return to her clit, you were hastily pulled away, the sensitive girl shaking her head as her thighs snapped back together.

“you wanna keep reading? i can always get the-“ you started, stopping at the notice of her eyes - renewed with a fresh desire. “oh, okay.” you laughed softly, realising it was your turn now.

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Nine: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink (Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, nude vids/pics, rape mentioned (somnophilia), gen. sexual content, Panic/Anxiety Attack, forced nudity [Be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Anakin/Ghost having thoughts?? Unselfish ones?? Luke can’t stop roasting/sassing you [diary entries from Ani] [texting/letters/notes]extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+

Diary Entry: August 10th

I think enough time has passed. I think you’re ready to see Ghost again.

I thought it would take longer for you to recover, but as always, the little fawn in you is curious as ever. Quick to forget fear and ready for the newest challenge.

You’ve responded so well to everything. I’m very proud of you.

I’ve been keeping up with my visits, still cleaning, still watching, still following and protecting.

Now that you know of Ghost, I’ve started completing my tasks. I don’t have to leave anything halfway finished, the dishes are done everyday along with the vacuuming and dusting. I even mop twice a week.

And change the cat litter, which might I add, is disgusting. (Worth it though because I love that little menace.)

I thought for sure you’d run and tell me that you didn’t think the alarms I installed weren’t working, but you didn’t, you just repeatedly tested them yourself. It was very loud, very annoying and I know you could hear the woman down the hall banging her pots and pans together to fight back with her own noise. You didn’t care though, you just wanted to make sure the alarms worked.

They do work, I wouldn’t have installed fake ones, that would be stupid. I’m all for keeping you safe so… what’s one more safety measure?

I just know that they can also be very easily disarmed. Even through the inch and a half thick wooden door to your apartment. A piece of sheet metal (credit card sized) and my handy dandy super strength magnet works like a charm.

You’re such an odd bird. You haven’t told anyone, I don’t think it’s really even crossed your mind too much either. You’ve begun to pretend the cameras aren’t even there. You just go about your normal day to day life and occasionally squint and stare at random objects.

You never actually go check them out though. Is it all for show? I think it might be.

I think you like being watched. I bet it makes you feel safe doesn’t it? Knowing I’m always there for you?

——————————————————————————

You know what the best part of all this is?

Ghost will let me love you in the way that is natural and normal to me. I just hope that you’ll be willing to accept that we are one in the same.

Ghost can comfortably do all the things that I’ve been afraid to. I didn’t want to scare you, but it really was difficult not to leave you things. I’m so glad that you brought that up in your list of questions because it gave me the opportunity to act on it without you flipping out.

Do you like them? I love leaving things for you. Especially little notes.

Ghost has been kind enough to stay out of your way when I’m around, but I can resist making you squirm occasionally. Remember when I left you a note, KNOWING I’d be coming home with you later that day?

Oh babe. It was so oddly intoxicating to see the way you reacted when I got back home and pulled up the footage. You snatched up that slip of paper didn’t read it and didn’t toss it in the trash, didn’t put it in your pocket.

You shoved it in your mouth so I wouldn’t see it. Freak.

I saw it all chewed up and gross in the bathroom trash. You didn’t read it. I know you didn’t. So I’ll have to get alittle more creative.

Don’t ignore me.

DATE

August 13th

For the third morning in a row you woke up to a text from your own cellphone number.

‘Sleep well deer?’

Idiot. Can’t even spell. So finally on this third day, you sent a text back and corrected him.

‘Dear*’

Immediately a response buzzed through.

‘No.’

No? What does he mean no?

‘Little doe. My deer. 🦌’

Oh great, so stalkers use emojis and he’s given you a nickname. How cute.

You laid back in your bed and tossed your phone aside, hands covering your face as you rubbed the sleep away.

The longer this went on, the more insane you felt. This wasn’t normal, of course it’s not normal. So why are you allowing it?

You could ask yourself that a million times and you’d never find an answer.

You could throw away every flower he brought you and they’d still keep coming. You could burn every piece of paper in the city and chew every pen until it’s broken beyond repair and he would still find a way to write you a note.

You could swallow every word he writes, throw it up, flush it, whatever. It’s just going to pop back up. Gross and soggy with an amendment attached and in your panty drawer.

You thought maybe it was an important one. So you read it. Quickly discovered it was semi-important, Ghost just wanted to remind you that he loved you and he was proud of you for continuing to drink your tea even though you knew it was drugged. Once you’re out of it, he’s going to set the pills out next to your birth control. So he ‘doesn’t have to fool with measurements anymore’.

The addendum to the note was tucked inside the original:

‘Good girls swallow.’

You could ignore the trinkets, the jewelry or the pretty stones and shells. But he would just move them to a different spot and force you to eventually set it in your jewelry box along with all the others.

He’s not been bold enough to come around with Anakin in your home. The nights that Anakin sleeps over, there are no gifts, no cleaning done. No disturbances.

But Anakin doesn’t deter him completely.

He’s left you one note at Anakin’s apartment, the first time you’d slept away from your own home in ages. Ghost had the audacity to slip a note into the pocket of your shorts while you slept in the same bed as Anakin in his apartment.

It didn’t say anything, no words, just a heart in red ink. Like he just wanted to remind you that he was there and you were his whether you wanted to be or not. Anakin or no Anakin, Ghost didn’t care.

It’s been horrible lying… omitting the truth to Anakin. Sometimes you feel like blurting it out, but something always stops you. Morbid curiosity maybe. Or maybe you just like the thrill of it, that little shiver of adrenaline you get every time he makes himself known.

It would all stop if you told Anakin. Neither would quit until he’d hunted the other man down and gotten rid of him.

They’d kill each other.

——————————————————————————

Anakin worked tonight, so you had plans to meet up with Luke (sans his pet leech) for a late evening dinner. As much as you loved Han and appreciated everything he did for Luke, how happy he made him, you really just wanted some time alone with your best friend.

So you were thrilled to receive a text around 1:00pm from Luke:

‘Don’t be late. I’m dying to catch up babe.’

You quickly opened the message but before you finished typing, a voice message popped up in your notifications, sent from your number.

You abandoned the chat with Luke and opted to open the voice message instead.

‘I’m coming home.’ then a long pause, ‘have fun with Lukey.’

That scratchy filtered voice; you’d yet to hear it over the phone and this being the first time… it sent you right back to the very first time you watched Scream. That icy chill that snuck up the back of your neck, the tightening of your chest… you felt it now, just not because of fear.

You felt it because you were excited.

——————————————————————————

“Okay, seriously what do you keep looking at?” Luke prodded, snatching your phone and sliding it into his jacket pocket.

“Nothing it’s just-“

“My phone is on ‘do no disturb’, because I have missed my buddy, my pal, my best friend.” He paused, his pointer finger jabbing the table between your plate and his.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed. “I haven’t even unlocked it! It’s just sitting there.”

“True, but the obnoxious tapping to check whatever it is you’re hoping for is getting annoying.” Honesty, brutal or not, was Luke’s love language.

“Fine. I’m sorry, I’ll put it in my pocket.” You agreed, holding your hand out palm up.

“No ma’am. This is mine until the check comes.” His answer was definitive, no room for argument there. “What’s so important anyway? I know Anakin is at work.”

“It’s just work stuff.” You huffed.

“Oh? What’s so pressing at the diner?” He scoffed, “got a big shipment of ketchup coming in? Are you ‘on call’?”

“Luke.” You rolled your eyes at his jab. “No and yes. I am ‘on call’ actually. Sara’s son has been sick.’

Not a total lie, he has been sick. Poor guy. But her husband was home with him and he was being well looked after.

“Okay? That’s your problem how?”

“God you’re so negative sometimes.” You sighed. “Her babysitter hates vomit. If he throws up Sara will have to go home.”

“Ew.” He scrunched up his nose. “I’m eating.”

“Okay? That’s my problem how?” You said mockingly.

“Really? Like for real that’s why you keep checking your phone?”

“Yes really.” Giving him a look that screamed duh’. “Her baby sitter is the 14 year old girl that lives next door to her. Do you really suggest leaving a 14 year old in charge of a vomiting 2 year old? When that 14 year old is disgusted by puke? That’s a recipe for disaster.”

It would be a disaster, her sitter is 14. She just happens to be on vacation with her mother right now. Hence the temporary stay at home husband.

“Okay, first of all, 14? Isn’t that alittle young?”

“No? I started babysitting when I was 12.” You shrugged.

“Fine.” Luke sighed. “Here.”

He slid your phone back to you and propped his chin up on his fist. Watching you check it one last time before turning on the sound and putting it in your back pocket.

——————————————————————————

‘I’m walking home now!’

You shot off the text to Anakin after saying your goodbye to Luke at the restaurant. You’d refused his offer to walk you home, you didn’t want him anywhere near your apartment building knowing that Ghost would be there.

Six minutes later he replied:

‘Good girl.🥰 let me know when you get there safe.’

‘Will do💕’

And you did, the moment you stood outside your apartment door.

‘Made it! See you tomorrow💕’

You waited in the hall to receive his response. You didn’t know what would be waiting for you on the other side of this door, and you didn’t want to chance it.

‘Perfect. Sweet dreams doll!’

Your hand poised at the door knob, you inserted your key to discover your door was already unlocked. You very slowly opened the door, but saw no one in your kitchen or living room.

But your bedroom door was closed, boogie hadn’t meowed as loudly as possible and sprinted to you, demanding to be fed. He did say that they were good friends. So they both must be in your room.

Would it be wise to lock your door? The few precious seconds leaving it unlocked would save if you needed to run… no, no. Just lock it. Doorknob. Deadbolt. Chain.

‘Just stay calm’

You kicked off your shoes and tossed your bag to the floor, walking quietly across the carpeted living room to pause in front of your bedroom. A soft yellow glow shone beneath the door, your lamp must be on. You could hear your tv playing something, not quite sure what it was, but it had the all too familiar cadence of a horror flick.

The audacity of this man astounded you.

When you pushed open the door, he was laying in your bed, shoes off, legs crossed at the ankles, propped against the headboard, arms behind his head. He looked like he belonged there. As big a contrast as it was… your soft, pink, feminine room and him. All black, the mask. He just looked so comfortable.

Your cat, the little traitor, was curled up on his chest. It was kind of sweet. How could such an inherently terrifying scenario seem so normal?

Ever so casually he tilted his head toward you, his right hand raising from its relaxed position to lazily give you gloved finger waggle for a wave.

“Have fun?” The filtered voice drifted over to you.

“Yes.” You answered quietly, glued to the spot.

“Are you just going to stand there?” He laughed. “I would come pick you up, but it’s illegal to move a sleeping cat.” He gestured to boogie who had still not moved from her human pillow.

You couldn’t help but laugh, eyebrows raised in an expression of awe filled shock. This was too weird. Too normal. Too scarily alluring.

Yet you found yourself at the edge of the bed, not really knowing how you got there to begin with.

“Sat you some pajamas out.” He said dismissively, the mask fixed onto the tv screen. “Figured you’d wanna change.”

“Huh.” You snorted, seeing that he had.

You expected to see one of your lacy lingerie sets. But he’d chosen something much more modest that you would’ve ever imagined. Loose, thin, stretchy fabric pajama pants, the matching cropped tank top, and fuzzy socks.

“Um. Thanks?” You said awkwardly, picking them up and turning on your heels to change in the bathroom.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He chuckled.

“To the bathroom?” You scoffed, looking over your shoulder at him.

“You can change in here.” He wasn’t offering. He was telling you.

“No way.” You shook your head. “No I’m not-“

“C’mon little doe.” The filtered voice left little room for change in tone, but you could tell from his body language that it was a challenge.

“Ghost. No! I have Anakin I don’t-.”

He laughed. “I don’t care.”

“Well I do.”

“Mmm… not enough. You’re letting me be here. You didn’t tell him. You didn’t mention me to anyone at all actually.” He pointed out.

“Well that’s not-“

“Hush.” He snapped, making you stall. “I’ve seen that pretty little body of yours plenty of times. What’s one more?”

“But-“ your face was so red hot that you could feel the heat spreading down your neck.

“What? I’m not gonna get up.” He said plainly. “I’m comfy right here where I can watch you.”

“I don’t… this isn’t right.”

“Don’t pull that bullshit with me.” He scoffed. “Nothing about this is ‘right’. But you’re letting it happen, yeah?” He said and got just a nod from you in response.

“That’s it.” He moved his arm to point two fingers at you, “get on with it sweetheart. I wanna see my girl.”

“I’m not your-“

“You were mine first.” He snapped.

“Well, that’s not very fair.” Your voice shaking. “I didn’t even know you were…. I didn’t know about you!”

“That might be true.” He growled, “but it’s your fault for being so ignorant.”

“I-I don’t…” you felt like you were on the verge of a tantrum. This man was outrageous, coming into your home uninvited, being a fucking perv, acting like he owns the place, and now he’s calling you ignorant?

“Do you realize how stupid it is for you to argue with me about the morality of all this?” He asked, going back to his former relaxed state.

“You. Are allowing me to be here. You had all day to call the cops if you wanted to. But you didn’t.” That smug little bastard laughed. “I’ve been here for over two hours. You knew I’d be here when you got back.”

“That’s not-“

“I’m not finished.” He held up a finger and silenced you. “You’re mine. You’ve been mine and you will continue to be mine.”

“I don’t care that you are pretending to be appalled by the situation you are in.” His voice was even and unyielding, he was so confident in his statements.

“You know why I don’t care?” He asked, tilting his head toward you condescension oozing from every pore.

“Why?” You squeaked.

“Because I know, without a doubt, that if I were to stick my hand down your pretty pink panties; you’d be wet right now.”

How did he know what color your underwear is? Better question: why is that the first thing you thought of when there were much more pressing matters at hand?

“That’s not true.” Your voice sounded hollow.

“It’s not?” He laughed. “Show me then.”

“What?” You whispered, eyes bugging out of your head.

“Do it. Prove to me that you’re not soaked.” He snickered.

“That’s not fair you can’t just-“

“You’re not running are you? You haven’t said no, you haven’t come over here and smacked me.” He interrupted.

You stood there with your jaw dropped, you needed a dustpan and broom to sweep up your shattered facade of denial. How could you dispute that?

“Fine!” You shouted. “Fine. I’ll just change in here.”

“Don’t raise your voice at me.” He growled. “You’re awfully bold for a spoiled brat.”

“I am not a-“

“When will you stop disagreeing with me?” He laughed. “You know it’s true. I’ve spoiled you so much that you’ve rotted to your core. You weren’t always a brat, but you are now. You like being spoiled don’t you? Being taken care of, being treated like a princess?”

“Your little boyfriend does the same thing doesn’t he?” He snickered. “Spoiled. Brat.”

“You’re just a little girl who needs a man to hold her hand.”

“You’re being mean.” You whispered, your voice breaking.

“The truth is hard to hear isn’t it little doe?” He said, his voice going back to its nonchalant, flat tone.

You couldn’t argue. He’d been right about everything and it’s difficult to argue with someone who throws fact after fact at you like he’s doing. So you took a deep breath and closed your bedroom door.

“Atta girl.” He nodded. “Show me.”

So you did, you turned around and began undressing, you could feel his eyes on you, soaking up the display you were crafting for him.

“Turn around.” His voice alittle quieter, the voice box crackling.

Slowly you complied, swallowing your fear and embarrassment. You kept your eyes closed, it made you feel the slightest bit better, I’m the way a kid would think ‘I can’t see you so you can’t see me’.

“Gorgeous.” He breathed out.

Behind your eyelids you swear you noticed a change in lighting, briefly, but enough to take note of. Your eyes snapped open and saw him holding up his phone.

He’d taken a picture of you.

“Ghost, no! Delete that right now!” You squealed, quickly getting dressed in your fresh pajamas.

“Cool it.” He waved you off. “Just gonna add it to my special folder just for you. See?” He turned his screen toward you and you inched forward.

He wasn’t lying. He scrolled through over one hundred images and videos, some of you in public, some nude, some of you sleeping. All in a folder titled ‘little doe’.

“These are for me.” He said simply. “They’re not going anywhere so don’t worry about that.”

“But these…” he turned the screen back to himself and tapped twice, scrolled and then tapped again before flipping it around.

The images in front of you made you nauseous.

You, spread legs and wet cunt, up close.

You with your hand being held up by Ghost, your fingers buried deeply between your folds.

A short video of your pussy being lovingly stroking by a leather glove. Another of one long digit pumping into you slowly.

A picture of your lips wrapped around his cock.

“S-so you did… you did touch me?” You recoiled.

“No.” He said flatly, before you could protest he laughed.

“You loved it.” He snickered. “Never let you cum. I wanted you to be needy for me.”

“Until… until I saw you.” You whispered.

“Mhm, that’s right.” He nodded. “Took care of your poor swollen pussy properly that time.” He cooed, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

“You’re sick.” You breathed out. “That’s disgusting… you-“

“Call the cops.” He said gesturing to your phone laying on the bed.

“What?”

“You heard me. Call ‘em.” He snorted. “If I’m so sick and disgusting and you’re soooo horrified by my actions; call the cops. I’ll wait right here.”

“Are you gonna send those to Anakin?” Your voice wobbled as you ignored his challenge. You both knew you wouldn’t call.

“Not if you’re good.”

“Are you gonna hurt him?” You asked quietly.

“Now why would I do a thing like that?” He scoffed. “I want you all to myself, but I want you to choose me. I’m not gonna go all Dexter on your boyfriend.”

“You promise?” You sniffled. “Swear it?”

“Pinky swear.” He said confidently, holding out his hand with his little finger raised.

For some reason you took it. You believed him. He hadn’t gotten up and forced you to do anything, he stayed right there the whole time. He had yet to share those pictures with Anakin. A million other twisted reasons you’d started to accept that this was becoming a new normal. A thousand other things that pushed you to believe him.

He’d only bruised your self image with his cold, hard truths about you. That’s not a crime. That’s a reality check.

“Good choice little doe!” You could practically hear the beaming smile on his face behind the plastic mask.

“Now come up here.” He patted the spot next to him. “I don’t like seeing you upset, I’m sorry.”

He was apologizing? He was apologizing.

“You’re sorry?” You repeated in shock.

“Of course I’m sorry. You’re on the verge of tears and I’ve caused it.” He said, holding out his hand palm up for you to take.

“I’m not a monster.”

You hesitated before accepting his hand and climbing into bed beside him. You sat a safe distance from him at first but he lolled his head to the side in what you assumed was a dramatic eye roll and tugged you to his side in a one armed swoop.

The action had you frozen. This was it. He was gonna hurt you. You’d been naive and stupid and he was going to violate you, this time while you were conscious, you’d remember it this time.

“Relax.” He soothed, tucking you comfortably against his side, his bicep behind your head as a pillow and his gloved hand on your side in a way that was almost comforting. “I mean it. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You whispered, what the fuck is happening?

“No, it’s not okay. I could’ve been more gentle with my words.” His opposite hand rubbing his knuckles across your cheek lovingly.

You were quiet for a moment, debating on the course of action you should take. You were in fact very much allowing this to occur. Would it be so horrible to try and enjoy it? He was warm. He smelled nice and familiar, the cologne… you must have a subtle memory of it from all the times he’d been here while you slept. He was comfortable. He was surprisingly kind.

What’s the worst that could happen?

“Before you get comfy.” He spoke quietly, the voice box crackling from his low voice, “you didn’t take your pill.”

“Oh yeah you’re right.” You moved to get up, pink cheeked because once again he proved that you were in fact helpless without him.

“Don’t get up, I have it right here.” He chuckled, reaching over to the nightstand and handing you the pill packet and a thermos. “Tea.”

“Huh.” You stared at him. Gods this was so fucking weird. “Well… wow okay.” You huffed out a laugh and took your medicine with a sip of your tea.

“Tastes different.” You said, handing the packet back to him.

“Mhm. Yeah I poisoned it.” He said nonchalantly, making you almost choked on your second sip.

“You what?” You shrieked, waking up the cat who bolted from his lap.

“Aw look what you did,” he groaned gesturing to the empty space with a few stray cat hairs.

“You- are you serious?” You started to almost hyperventilate. “Should I make myself throw up?”

Why are you asked the man who poisoned you that? Like he’d tell you.

“No, that would be a waste of good tea.” He snorted. “I put cinnamon in it you idiot.”

“What?”

“Cinnamon.” He repeated. “It’s just cinnamon. It was a joke.”

“That’s not fucking funny!” You shouted, smacking his shoulder.

“Ive already told you once.” His hand shot out and grabbed your jaw firmly. “Do not. Raise. Your voice. At me.” He growled.

“I believe you meant to say ‘ha-ha, ghost that was funny. you got me!’” He snickered and released your jaw, soothing you with his hand now gently raking through your hair.

You were stunned. Absolutely shook by his quick turnaround, this should be terrifying. This man can be so gentle one moment and the next he’s speaking to you like he’s ordering you to lay down at the guillotine. It wasn’t terrifying in the right way. Not the type of fear you should be feeling at his unpredictable actions.

You weren’t scared of him at all. But yourself? Yes. Who is this girl? Why is she… why do you like this? It’s scary because you’re not scared. It’s horrifying because you want more. It’s terrifying because you’re morbidly curious about what he’d do if you acted out again.

You shook your head and picked your jaw off the floor, deciding the best course of action was to just tuck yourself back under his arm and watch whatever movie he had paused when you entered the room.

Might as well. You’ve already come this far.

Date

August 14th

When you woke up the next morning Ghost was gone. Your home was devoid of any trace of him, no note, no gift, no messages. Nothing.

He had hardly moved while you sat with him, the only consistent movement was the gentle twist and twirl of one long lock of your hair around his finger. It was repetitive and soothing, just like the calming rise and fall of his chest.

How could he be so calm? So off guard?

You could’ve turned on him at any moment. Ripped off his mask and saw who he was, grabbed your lamp and wacked him with it. Punched him in the nuts and ran.

But, to be fair, he could’ve done the same to you. Yet you stayed there, albeit anxious and on high alert for majority of the time spent with him. Despite the fact that you knew he carried a weapon, even though you were well aware of what he’d been doing to you all this time, even after he’d manhandled your face when you smarted off to him.

It must be a twisted form of mutual trust.

Or you might just be delusional.

Either way, it was wrong and you knew that. You intentionally got naked in front of another man, while he laid on the bed your boyfriend so sweetly makes love to you in. You fell asleep in the arms of this man. Not just *any* other man, the one who has been stalking you relentlessly for months.

You’ve cheated on Anakin. If he knew, it would crush him. It would break apart his big, soft, velveteen heart. Your betrayal would rip a hole right through the middle and slice up the fabric so badly it couldn’t be sewn back up without ending up smaller, weaker, and deformed.

What could you do? Was there anything to do? Telling him to his face… the thought of it soured your stomach so badly you thought you might form an ulcer.

Telling Ghost to fuck off and leave you alone wasn’t an option either. No matter what you did, the precautions you put in place; he would find you. Not only would he find you, but he wouldn’t allow Anakin the privilege of breathing anymore.

You couldn’t tell Luke. He’d lecture you until your ears bled while he dragged you to the nearest police station. Then Luke would be in danger, Anakin would know, and Ghost would still be your problem. And if Luke didn’t believe you, he’d ship you off to the long term care loony bin.

Your sister? Of course you couldn’t tell her either. She has her own family. Ghost already knows where she lives, he’s told you so.

He knows everything about you. Your family tree, your friends list, your schedule, your medical information, banking account, he has complete access to your home, your phone…

You are a canary in a cage and he is a cat pawing at you through the metal bars.

It’s only a matter of time before one of those claws nicks you. A feather or two might come loose, open up a weak spot on your frail body. The next swipe might draw blood, maybe it won’t. Or maybe he’ll be lucky enough to bat you to the bottom of the cage.

It’s hard enough to escape when there’s someone always watching. When there’s a lock on the door. But to attempt to flee with broken wings? You couldn’t hobble your way to safety anyway. Bird cages don’t have doors at the bottom, they’re halfway up. They don’t have horizontal bars. You can’t climb.

You are stuck.

It’s up to you if you want to be trapped there intact, or if you’d rather wallow at the bottom in pain.

——————————————————————————

Maybe you should just break up with Anakin.

Ghost said he wouldn’t hurt him, but how long will that last? How long until he gets tired of waiting? Should you ask Ghost again? Just to make sure? Make him sign a fucking contract?

Maybe it would be best if-

“Sweetheart?” Anakin whispered softly, waving his hand in front of your face. “What’s going on? I’ve been standing here for almost a minute.”

Anakin was here.

“What?” You whispered back, suddenly overwhelmingly aware of your surroundings.

The diner. You were at The Bluebird. You were working. A glance to the clock told you that you’d been here for over two hours, a quick scan of the tables and the counter proved that you hadn’t neglected any customers. Your notepad and pen were in your hand, there was money in the tip jar.

Anakin was here.

“Hey, c’mere.” His voice soft and concerned.

He gently took the pad and pen from your hands, put an arm around your shoulder and held your hand as he led you through the kitchen. Not an uncommon occurrence, Anakin was well known to everyone at the Bluebird due to his frequent visits to see you. He often walked with you out through the kitchen to sit on the curb with you while you took a break and he smoked a cigarette.

“Vigo, I’m taking her out back.” He said quietly, speaking to the dishwasher.

“I was about to call you man.” He spoke back in a hushed voice. “She’s been actin’ like that since she got here.”

“Yeah? Well next time don’t wait to call.” Anakin grumbled, scowling at your coworker.

The heat of the afternoon sun soothed over your skin, making you painfully aware of the cold sweat lacing the back of your neck. You blinked and it felt like it was the first time you’d closed your eyes in hours. Your mouth was dry, your teeth felt cold and your brain might’ve been better described as soup.

Anakin sat down on the curb and pulled you down with him. Placing you sideways between his legs, your arms immediately threw themselves around his neck and you curled up into him.

“Jesus baby.” He whispered, the wind getting knocked out of him at your aggressive tackle.

“An-” You started to sob before you even finished his name.

“W-what’s wrong?” You could feel his heart beat quicken beneath you, hear it pounding in his chest. He was feeling real, true panic.

“Hey, hey talk to me. Breathe.” He tried to soothe you by petting your hair, rocking you gently, kissing your forehead… anything, anything he could think of and nothing was working.

You were sobbing so loudly that Anakin was glad there wasn’t a back parking lot. If someone wanted to see where this horrible wailing was coming from they’d have to walk all the way around back, thankfully most people didn’t care enough to do such a thing.

Unfortunately though, your coworkers did care.

The back door creaked open and you could hardly hear the conversation over your own tears.

“Anakin!” Vigo whisper shouted. “What the fuck did you do to her?”

“What do you mean? I didn’t do this!” His voice angrily gritting through his teeth. “What happened today?”

“Nothin’ man! I dunno!” Vigo squeaked raising up his hands in surrender. “She just clocked in like that, no cryin’ though. She’s hardly said a word.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t call me!” Anakin grunted, “I’m her emergency contact for a reason you idiot.”

“Hey? Don’t get mad at me!” Vigo scoffed. “I figured she was in a funk because of you, why would I call if I thought it was boyfriend troubles?”

“Jesus- did you even ask her?”

“What?”

“Oh my fuckin’-“ Anakin took a breath to regulate himself, one arm firmly holding you while the other was wildly gesturing as he spoke. “Did you ask her what was wrong?”

“No?”

“Are you stupid? God just fuck- go back inside before you end up crying on the ground too.” He snapped at him, huffing as the back door shut behind a quickly retreating Vigo.

“Sorry baby, I’m sorry,” He whispered, petting your head and squeezing you tightly. “I’m sorry, that probably didn’t help did it?”

“N-not really.” You hiccuped out a laugh.

“She speaks.” He gasped, “want me to yell at him some more? I’ll do it just say the word-“

“Anakin-“ you snorted, wiping your eyes and nose on his shirt. “Aw shit sorry.”

“You think I’m worried about alittle snot?” He scoffed, “Sweetheart, I’d lick it out of your nose like a cow if you’d let me. C’mere I’ll prove it.”

He stuck out his tongue and flicked it at you, chasing your face as you squirmed away from him. Despite to horrible ache in your lungs and the scratchy feeling in your throat, Anakin had a way of making everything better. Even if it was accomplished by making a fool of himself.

You laughed in spite of trying to catch your breath, fighting those awkward stalled inhales with a the goofy little giggle only he could force out of you. He relented finally when you gave up struggling, opting for a kiss on the tip of your nose rather than his tongue up your nostril.

“Wanna talk to me now?” He asked quietly, his playful attitude tucked away and replaced with seriousness.

“I don’t know Ani.” You sighed, feeling horribly conflicted. “I just want to go home.”

“Then I’ll take you home.” He said, not leaving room for argument. “But I’m not letting you get up until you tell me what’s going on.”

“Please? Please I don’t wanna talk about it.” Your eyes already filling back up with tears.

“It’s nothing really! It’s okay.” You pleaded with him, “I’m just… I’ve been thinking about a lot of stuff and it’s all overwhelming.”

“That’s not okay, don’t say it’s okay. You just wailed like a banshee.” He said sternly. “Talk, let me help.”

“I just feel like I’m losing my mind.” You scoffed, “Im going nuts. I don’t… I don’t know. I don’t know how to explain it without you thinking I’m insane.”

“Princess.” He said, his voice cracking with pain. “You can tell me anything. You know that.”

“W-what if hypothetically…” you whispered. “It’s only hypothetical okay?”

“Okay. Imaginary scenario, let’s hear it.” He nodded solemnly.

“Hypothetically, if I was having… nightmares of someone being in my house. What would you say.” You whispered.

“Hypothetical nightmares?” He asked, one eyebrow raised. “Well… I’d suggest that maybe you… go to therapy? See if you can find the root of the problem.”

Therapy? To find the root of the problem? That would work if you didn’t already know where to find the problem: in your apartment at any given moment. Hell, he was probably there right now.

“Are you having these dreams because of that night at the bar?” He asked softly, tucking loose hairs behind your ear. “You know we didn’t see anyone put anything in your drink. No one left at the same time as you but your friends.”

“Now like I said before, just because we didn’t see it on camera… it doesn’t mean that no one slipped something in your drink. Stuff like that unfortunately happens all the time.” He sighed.

“I know.” You nodded, your eyes wet and sad, you knew you weren’t drugged there. You were drugged in the security of your own home. “I know, I think maybe I was just alittle more tipsy than I thought I don’t-“

“Hey, no… it’s okay.” He soothed you. “I believe you.”

“But there was no one who followed you home from the bar. I can say that with 100% certainty okay?” He said sternly.

“Ani but-“

“Look at me.” He said sharply, his voice turning soft again immediately after. “No one followed you home. I watched that video a hundred times over from every angle possible. No one else left the bar until about 17 minutes after you and your friends left.”

“Now don’t get upset baby okay? Listen I know, I know that it scared you shitless.” He said in a pained way, his face not quite matching his tone of voice like he was having a hard time trying to decide how to respond.

“Which is perfectly valid. It’s totally okay to be terrified if you saw something like that.” He soothed you, squeezing your upper arms. “I’m not saying it didn’t happen, I would never say that. If you say that you saw something, I believe you.”

“But, just because you saw it… doesn’t mean that it was truly there. Those kind of drugs can really fuck with your head baby.” He said gently.

“I know.” You sniffled, wiping your eyes and hiding against his chest again.

Gods… this man. He really was one of a kind, not just any man or person in general for that matter, would respond so well to such a strange temporary delusion. Your past boyfriends would’ve run for the hills. But not Anakin. It was clear he wasn’t deterred easily, he was your personal emotional support pet leech.

It was strange, feeling so comfortable like this with someone you hadn’t known for very long. After this conversation you thought maybe it would be okay to tell Anakin the truth about it all. He’d handle it perfectly well wouldn’t he?

But, you can’t risk putting him in harms way. You wouldn’t know if Anakin would be safe without first speaking to Ghost. If Anakin was your pet leech… Ghost was the the neighborhood street dog who’d decided your porch was the safest place to sleep. Who would be heartless enough to kick the poor thing out without a proper meal first?

That’s the problem with strays. Give them a scrap and they’ll love you for life.

Diary Entry: August 14th

Jesus baby I’m sorry. I thought things went well last night, I didn’t mean to make you so upset. I really didn’t. I guess you weren’t ready to see Ghost after all.

That’s my fault, I apologize. I should have known better.

It’s just… you seemed kind of excited for it you know? I thought we had a good time. Was the stripping down in front of me what freaked you out so much? Or seeing the pictures? I shouldn’t have done that. I really shouldn’t have, that was too far, too fast.

I see now that I made a mistake and I plan to rectify it as soon as possible. I’m going to give you a choice, one that I really don’t want to give you. But I will for the sake of your sanity.

I’ve been selfish for too long.

I’ve not truly considered your feelings on the situation, I’ve taken your response at face value and never attempted to dig farther than that. It won’t happen again I can assure you of that. Ghost will still be Ghost, but perhaps just a bit more considerate of your opinions and boundaries.

You must understand though, it’s hard to deal with this for me too. I know it’s not fair to compare our separate sides of the situation like this, but it’s true. It’s painful to watch you get so upset over something I’ve done, knowing I can’t really resolve the issue. I don’t know how to help, or fix this.

I’ve dug myself into a hole. A Pit if you will.

How could you ever forgive me now? After all this time that I have been so stupidly self-centered… I imagine it would be unlikely that you could find it in your immensely kind soul to forgive and forget my transgressions.

Maybe not though? I do see you as a godly entity, my own personal deity. If I leave enough at the altar, bow at your feet for long enough, serve you unconditionally… maybe then you would see that I have discovered the error of my ways. You could see that I am truthful in my pursuit of repentance.

Date

August 15th

Anakin drove to the opposite side of the city to purchase your apology gifts from Ghost. He knew well enough that Luke never had a set schedule, Han was always at the gym and you were at book club. There was limited space in time and even smaller proximity of location for him to safely collect the supplies he needed.

If someone saw him buying a dozen red roses and told you about it without his knowledge… well there goes Ghost. It’d be real hard to explain that away.

So he went to the florist, chose the most beautiful bouquet he could find and tucked it away in a large brown bag with tissue paper over the top so he wouldn’t accidentally bruise the petals.

He strolled down the side walk to another small mom and pop store, just to browse through stationary and cards. Ghost needs to be alittle more classy in his opinion. Maybe if his notes are on nice paper and written in plain black ink… that could ease the discomfort of it. It’s probably not super welcoming to find a ripped scrap of paper with red ink scrawled on it now that he’s come to think of it.

It was amusing to him before, but after your display of emotion, he’s feeling guilty. Very, very guilty. There was no reason to go the extra mile on stupid little things like that.

So, pretty grey paper and matching envelopes join the bouquet.

Now he just has to find something else. It can’t be chocolate or something generic. It has to be something meaningful. Something thoughtful to solidify the sentiment behind his offer for you. Something that will push you to make the right decision.

——————————————————————————

Anakin walked into your apartment, and went straight to your bedroom, it was time for Ghost to set up his apology present.

The big red bouquet was carefully placed in the center of your bed along with the pretty stationary propped against it. Your name carefully and neatly written in **black ink** on the envelope.

Your other gift, had turned into two. A small black box accompanying a short and squat black gift bag with grey tissue paper.

He was proud of his staged display, so proud that he couldn’t wait for you to see it. He was itching for you to get home, he needed to know what you’d choose. He was dying to see your pretty face light up with joy at his thoughtfulness.

So against his better judgement, he snapped a picture of himself standing at your bedside. The photo taken from a high angle to capture just the corner of your red rose bouquet, with himself taking up majority of the frame. His mask tilted to the side and his free hand held up a gloved peace sign.

He’d wait to send it.

He wanted to see your face when the message came through.

Anakin was prepared to be patient, but he didn’t have to be patient for long. He got the notification that there was movement out front of the building, he pulled up the live feed from the stairwell camera on his laptop and excitedly jolted up out of his seat before sitting back down quickly to scoot his seat back up to the table.

He rubbed his hands together and practically combusted from the inside when he confirmed it was you. His fingers moved quickly to send the text message and just as he thought you would, you paused and pulled your phone from your hoodie pocket.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, a bit of panic and maybe a bit of excitement. But mostly, Anakin was saddened to see fear. You were scared, but so brave as he watched you sprint up the steps. He shook his head and let out a deep breath, pulling up the split screen of all the cameras in your home.

You burst through the front door and slammed it shut, tossing your bag aside. Anakin turned up the volume just a bit and immediately realized that was a mistake because you yelled directly underneath the kitchen camera. The audio crackled as you shouted out for Ghost, Anakin realized then that you must think he’s still inside your home.

‘Just missed me.’ He texted quickly, watching you check your phone quickly and let out a sigh of relief as you muttered under your breath.

He thought you might text back, but why would you when you knew he was watching at that very moment?

“Hey!” You said, spinning in place, your eyes darting around to scan the room. “Where did you go? I didn’t see you!”

You rushed over to the living room window and down to the alley below, then up the fire escape, your gaze traveling over to the next building’s roof.

‘You won’t see me unless I want you to.’ He texted back.

“Jesus.” You muttered, rubbing your wrist anxiously. “I guess you want me to go to my room huh?”

‘Yes please.’

“Fine.” You sighed, kicking off your shoes as you walked over to the bedroom door, flinging it open quickly just incase he was still hiding out.

Your eyes drew to the center of your bed, the roses, the bag and box, the envelope. If the situation weren’t so strange you might consider this a romantic gesture. But it’s not, it’s not romantic and you shouldn’t want to open the gifts and sniff the pretty, sweet smelling flowers. You should want to call the police and have them haul the shit off for evidence.

“What’s all this for?” You asked alittle quieter than before, holding up your phone to read the text as it came through almost instantly as you knew that it would.

‘Letter.’

“Letter? That’s all?” You scoffed, “you did all this for a letter?”

‘It’s important.’ The response came quickly, followed by a second in rapid succession. ‘Gifts first.’

“Okay… alright. Gifts first.” You sighed, pulling your hand back from where it was inches away from the grey envelope.

The small box seemed like a good first thing to open, easy enough to snap shut if you didn’t like what you saw inside. Tentatively shifting the lid back and forth you wiggled it free and lifted the small square of padding to reveal a very nice, very ornate, obviously hand crafted hair-pin with a silver rod for the pin.

You gingerly lifted it from the box and held it in your hand to examine it, walking over to the window to open the curtains and see it more clearly. Smooth, black ceramic, gorgeously curved and curled silver fittings. But the most intriguing, the most breathtaking part of it, was the delicate lines and the daintily carved cameo in the center of the ceramic oval.

A woman standing under a willow, with a fawn at her feet.

You wanted to hate it, but how could you hate something so beautiful? How could you pretend to be unappreciative of something that clearly took time and effort to find, it wasn’t just vintage, it was antique. The fact that he’d searched for and seized the jewelry was a feat in itself.

You gingerly laid it back in its box, almost too afraid to hold it. Afraid of its fragility, afraid of what it stood for, how it made you feel. The tiny claws of emotion ripping at your throat stole your voice, you could only hope that Ghost couldn’t see your face from where you were standing or he would clearly see what he’d stirred up inside you.

You picked up the small bag and lifted the tissue paper gently, hoping it wasn’t another emotionally draining surprise.

It wasn’t draining, but it sure as hell was a surprise.

“What’s this?” You snorted, turning the bag over and dumping out a few cat toys.

You waited, checking your phone periodically but got no response. You knew he was still watching, so why wasn’t he answering? Sighing you shook your head and opted to take a look at the toys.

A felt kicker toy shaped as a bloody knife. A couple of fluffy spiders, eyeballs with bells inside, and a little vampire bat that was almost too cute to be a cat toy.

“Thanks.” You said quietly.

It was infuriating how well he knew you, he knew how to crawl into your brain and make you want more. How could you not when he did things like this? Thoughtful, well planned gifts, including your pet too. He knew that your cat was your baby and he’d taken the time to befriend her, cared about her enough to buy her things.

It made it all the more irritating that his choice of toys was just alittle funny. But you’d die before you admit that seeing the knife made you crack a grin.

Finally you decided it was time to open the envelope, as soon as you did, you understood why he’d asked you to open the gifts first.

LETTER

Little Doe,

I’m sorry for the pain I’ve caused you. The hurt I saw, the words heard… I felt it in my soul when I watched you crumble.

My purpose is to love you, my job is to keep you safe, my goal is to make you happy. I’m only doing one of those things, it’s selfish of me to love you the way that I do. I know that.

What I’ve done is wrong, I’m aware. I can’t justify or explain it to you. Just know that the long and short of it is love, it’s not a normal love, but it’s mine and I’m giving it all to you.

There’s no way you’d understand the lengths I’d go to, the things I would do for you. You’d never comprehend how deeply I adore you. That’s okay. It’s hard for me to understand myself too.

The hairpin, it’s the goddess of the hunt and her fawn. I thought considering it all, it would be more than suitable for our situation.

You’re a saint, a deity, someone worth the labors of worship.

Goddesses aren’t meant to be touched, held, loved corporally. They’re meant to be imagined, a comforting presence that you feel all around you, bowed to in hopes of receiving grace. I’ve tried to go beyond the altar to reach you and for that I’m truly sorry.

Please, please take my offerings.

I love you, I need you, but I don’t deserve you. No one deserves attention from the heavens, especially not me. But if you are listening, if you’re willing, I’ll try my best to be the perfect follower.

So I’ll ask for a boon from my goddess:

Grant me passage on the road to repentance, or take my hand to walk through the valley.

You sat on your bed in silence for a long while, your cat coming to join you and accept the gifts left for her excitedly. It brought you a moment of peace to watch her waller around and smack the eyeballs across the floor.

So the overwhelming weight of the thin grey sheet of paper in your hand felt even heavier when she scampered off with her brand new bag toy hanging from her mouth like a fresh kill. She’d left you alone and undistracted again. Just you, your thoughts, and the suffocating silence surrounding you, the creeping tingle on your neck that told you he was still watching the cameras.

He was waiting.

So you sighed and crawled off the bed with your bouquet in tow, cutting the stems into the kitchen trash can and filling a glass vase with water to display them on the counter.

The grey paper followed you from room to room, seat to seat, from one hand to the other as you read it over and over. You could recite it by memory, it was burned into your retinas, you could still feel the indents of his pen on the paper long after you’d sat it aside, the smell of the paper dye singed your nostrils and didn’t leave even after your shower.

You thought you could clean yourself, wash your hands of the problem both literally and metaphorically.

No amount of scrubbing could rinse your brain well enough to wash away the thousands of jumbled words swirling around. You’d been trying to formulate one, just one, coherent sentence for a response. But each time you made progress, you changed your mind on the decision, you scrapped the idea, sent it to the shredder and recycled it into a slightly different, just as illegible mess.

He’s giving you an out. Take it.

Who cares if he still watches you? He won’t interfere. He won’t show up for visits, he won’t leave you gifts or notes.

He’d left you with an offering. A little piece of himself in exchange for your so called ‘divine intervention’. He was asking for the hand of god to stir the pot and serve it too. At least, that’s how he saw it.

For you it was just an awkward toss up of a bunch of jumbled pros and cons.

On one hand he was offering you freedom. Opening the bird cage and giving you the option to escape but clipping your wings, ensuring you can’t go too far.

He’d still watch, just not make an appearance… keep himself hidden like before.

This would also solidify Anakin’s safety, which you valued highly. You’d be free to have your beautiful blossoming relationship, without the worry and stress from the Ghost that haunts your apartment.

On the other hand he gave you the choice to join him in some capacity. To walk through the valley with him; would he walk two steps behind? Two in front? Or side-by-side?

It’d give you the opportunity to explore this stranger you’ve discovered living inside your mind and body. That weird itch that only Ghost can scratch, the thought of him alone just doesn’t do it for you anymore.

You’d have the chance to see who is under that mask and that was more intriguing than anything. You felt like the more you spoke to him, the more you watched him in person… maybe you’d be able to narrow it down to a few people. That might be worth the risks that come with allowing him to continue visiting.

So, you swallowed your fear and closed your eyes. A few silent moments later you spoke aloud, assuming Ghost was still listening.

“I’ll walk with you.” You said slowly, tasting the words as they left your lips. “On two conditions.”

‘What are they, deer?’ His response came instantaneously.

“You leave my friends and family alone. You swear on your life they’re safe and that includes Anakin. I mean it, I’m not fucking around about it okay?” You said confidently. “I already feel guilty enough, don’t make it worse for me.”

‘Guilty?’

“Yes guilty! I have a boyfriend, who I really, really like.” You said, feeling exhausted from the complexity of your choice. “This isn’t fair to him!”

“But it’s… it’s not fair to me either!” You said frustratedly as you blew out a long breath of air through pursed lips. “I deserve to know who you are! You’ve been watching me for god knows how long and I haven’t even heard your real voice.”

“And… and it’s not fair for you either.” You admitted quietly.

‘Why?’

“You’ve been… mostly harmless. Kind.” You confessed, considering saying more, much more. “You’ve been helpful. Despite everything you’ve done, you obviously care about me. I can’t ignore that especially now.”

‘Mostly harmless??’

‘Why ‘especially’ now?’

“You’re joking right?” You snorted in disbelief, shaking your head and trying to stifle a laugh of indignation. “You… well I mean it feels wrong to call it what it is. But- you.. you know what you did!” You crossed your arms frustratedly.

‘Ah… the extracurriculars.’

“Sure if that’s what you want to call it.” An expression of, strangely enough, amusement, crossed over your features. “What it is… well you know what it is.” You sighed.

“But for some reason… I don’t want to call it that.” You said quietly.

‘Hm. I’ll remember that.’

“I’m sure you will.” You huffed in spite of yourself, because if you were honest you’d be telling him you liked it. Your body liked it, your brain liked it, asleep or not, he’d affected you in ways you were unsure you could get with anyone else. Including your sweet and precious boyfriend, he’s too tender and loving.

“Second condition: you promise me that you’ll eventually tell me who you are.” You said firmly. “I deserve to know.”

‘I accept.’

“Okay then.” You sighed with relief and a bit of resignation. “You still have to warn me if you’re gonna be coming to visit though!”

‘Yes ma’am.’

“Ew. Add that to the list. Never call me ma’am again.” You snorted and it rolled into a full laugh when you finally looked up and caught your own gaze in your bedroom mirror. You were sitting in your room alone, speaking aloud, having a fully fleshed, seemingly one-sided conversation.

If anyone were to walk in on this scene playing out, they’d think you’ve lost your mind.

Maybe you already have.

Part Ten

The pendant that inspired the hairpin! I forgot to add it in sorryyyyyy

Tag-List:

@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate @burnthecheshirewitch @exquisitcorpse @arzua10 @bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay @aliciaasky @naty-1001 1@mrsmikaelsxn @bunnylovesani @ausskywalker @angelsadmired @slut4starwarssmut @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie @starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @lethargic @allhailbuckybarnes-blog @shadowhuntyi @mortalheartache @fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot @chaoticantihero @vadersslut @luvvfromme @anakinsbaee @sweetcheesecakesblog @luvskywxlker @angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled @graveyard-stray @chiaraanatra @jediavengers @zapernz @lunalitva @salted-snailz @queenofchaos99 @ellie-luvsfics @dazednstars141 @rorysbrainrott @hopesworlld @lonaah @guiltycherries @syralix @doblasftcisco

THE TAGS LIST IS FULL! But if you want to be tagged I will comment ur username for you. Love you all so many.