#watching your stream with you playing with what you claimed was your favorite toy

[sunarc]

Next door neighbor who can hear you making only fans content at night. At first he's annoyed with how thin these apartment walls are but one day curiosity gets the best of him and he finds your only fans account. He watches one of your streams and now he can't get enough of watching you cream all over those dildos, if only you knew just how good he could make you feel with his cock

[imagine-shenanigans]

Hands on my knees.

Now I'm thinking of an au because of the nasty coworker soap hidden camera thing. AU where some prick you slept with left a hidden camera in your apartment for a live stream on the dark web (shut up i know its cliche let me live) and its a 24/7 stream of your bedroom with audio.

And one of the boys is a frequent viewer, watches a stupid amount of the time they're on leave. Eats dinner while watching their favorite show, etc etc.

(Dark stuff and NSFW ahead warning.)

Soap is the one who is the most impulsive about it. He's the one who feels guilty about it until he covers his own hand in his cum while watching you play a game on your phone. It's an insatiable need at this point. Can't cum without thinking of the bonnie little thing on his computer screen. You said the word Soap out loud once while talking to a friend on the phone or going through a list and he came so hard he saw stars. Went back and clipped the audio, he has it saved on his phone with other words, just so he can hear you say his callsign. He feels just a little guilty after he cums to you doing stretches.

But that's the allure of it, the taboo, knowing he's a fucking freak but doing it anyway. And god does he love it. Honestly the guilt fades REALLY quickly when he realizes how long the camera has been there, bordering on months. Such a poor thing you are, so vulnerable, so sweet. You just need someone to protect you from the nasty men in this world. Need someone even nastier to do it.

He makes the impulsive decision to go to the pub you mention on the phone with a friend. He waits until you're just a little drunk and "accidentally" bumps into you. Makes himself as charming as possible, smiles and laughs with you, until youre bringing him into your home. He positions you just right so the camera can see (he's recording the stream at home) and makes you as loud as possible, tongue laving over your inner thighs, leaving searing bites anywhere he can reach like he's claiming you.

(He is.)

He makes sure the camera gets a perfect shot of him cumming inside of you without protection. Hooks his fingers into your mouth so you can't stop the sounds you're making. He licks the drool from your chin and up into your mouth. Spends hours making you cum your brains out when he's not using you, well past the point of overstimulation by the time he settles, leaving you a hiccupping and sobbing mess as he rubs soothing cream over you, cuddling you to his chest so that this time, the camera can't see you at all.

He gives a peace sign to the camera after you fall asleep, and says "Alright ye bloody animals, shows over." before breaking the thing. Shoves it in the middle of your kitchen garbage before washing his hands and crawling back into bed with you. He sets up a new camera by the next morning, this one just for himself.

(and, if he releases clips of you two fucking online, that's between him and the rest of the god forsaken fucks on there.)

//

Price is shameless about watching you.

He knows he's going to hell, what's one more sin along the way? He indulges himself far more than any of the others. The silence gets to him when he's on leave, and what better way to fill it than with a pretty/handsome thing going about their life? He spends pretty much every waking and sleeping minute with his laptop open to your feed, watching you go about your day. It's mostly mundane, really, sick in nature but not a sexual thing for the most part. Of course, he gives his cock slow, languid strokes when he watches your hips eagerly buck into the vibrating toy you're using, whimpers falling from your pretty lips that John just wants to swallow whole. Too impatient for your own good, you need to be held down and edged for a good hour.

It's that thought that sends him spiraling.

How much better oof you'd be if you just had him to take care of you. Such a shame a nasty, terrible man put a camera in your room - he'll fix that.

He ends up moving into the flat/house next to yours when it mysteriously comes available. He really wants a cute little spouse to come home to - really wants to sit them on his cock until theyre crying and begging him to move. (And if he can get them to call him daddy, well, wouldn't that be a sight?)

He takes the longest out of all the boys, ends up being the model neighbor, coaxes you out like a feral little animal until you're spending more time in his place than your own. He hates that so many people (mainly men, his main issue is the men) can see you at any given time. Can take what should be his. So he waits until you're out for work one day and he uses the spare key you gave him (so trustingly, honey you shouldn't give things to strange men like him. He'll bend you over his knee until you learn your lesson.) and he sneaks into your room and moves the camera just a bit after disabling it. Just enough so its more noticeable in the light.

(If he steals a pair of panties, well... he does.)

And when you come crying and shaking to his doorstep later, he breaks the thing in his hand, and chucks it before he ushers you into his place and coos at you as he fingers you in his lap, edging you as you work through all those big emotions :( Poor baby, he's got you now, no need to be so scared, he'll get you nice and needy and then fuck you until you're brainlessly drooling into his pillow. He'll even be so kind as to slip his ring on your finger too, just to make sure you know he's not going to let anyone else have you anymore. That he'll make sure you're safe from now on, isn't that nice pumpkin?

//

Gaz I'm still trying to figure out how to write but I think he'd see the stream by accident, he's not gone looking for it, and he feels sharp revulsion when he figures out what it is while looking for some other information. And he's taking note of all of the things in the room, desperately trying to piece together where you live so he can do the right thing and figure out how to tell you about the stream. Definitely not because he's interested, and sure it's taking him a few days and repeated visits and- well, okay, you have this cute thing you do and- okay he's not... well he knows he's being a creep, but he's doing it for the right reasons. Totally. He's not... he's not being weird for no reason like some of these other creeps. And yeah, okay, he jacks off to you now and then, it's not that big of a deal, he's a little lonely and he's a little desperate okay?

He tells himself he's gonna quit, that he's not going to do anything, but then suddenly he's in your town on his leave, and he's putting himself in your path at every given opportunity. Of course, by then he's long since accepted he's being a real fucking freak by what he's doing, but doesn't he deserve something nice? Don't you?

And sure, okay, it's a huge ego boost when you do look at him and flush, when you try to collect your thoughts when you hear his voice. He smiles prettily at you and it all sort of spirals from there, until he's well and truly charmed you. He drops hints about the camera, but nothing directly implied. He finds a story on the news app on his phone about something similar and cringes, pretending like he isn't STILL watching the live feed of your apartment when he's in his own. Says something about how only a real freak would put a camera in someone's house. Good thing you've never done that to his place and he laughs, because he's never been to yours yet so you take it as a joke.

Weeks later, when you're doing a clean of your apartment, you find the camera and call him, and he comes over and hugs you, coos that it's probably not even plugged in, just some dick trying to scare you. He helps you run through who it could possibly be that did it, until he's given the dude's full name and address online.

He gives the camera a shit eating grin over your shoulder, looking directly into it even though you haven't pointed it out yet.

He presses a kiss to your forehead and offers you stay at his place for the night (when he really means forever.) He makes sure there's no cameras around you ever again.

//

Ghost is... the worst of them. In his own special way.

Assuming he isn't the one who put the damn thing in your room, he's definitely a regular on some of the grossest sites known to man, half out of sheer morbid curiosity, and half because he sometimes does end up finding things he likes. Your stream isn't the first he's watched, but it is the first he stays for. There's something about you that mesmerizes him. He ends up visiting the stream more and more until he's pieced together where you live and what your general schedule is. It takes a few months, but he wants you for himself - nothing else will do.

There's no preamble, no game that's played like the others. He forges a passport and documents and gets everything set up, and you don't even know that you're about to go tumbling into his net. He's quick about it, when he gets into your apartment. Ends up tying you up nice and neat, arms behind your back and ankles to your thighs while you sleep. Leaves the gag for last, just for the thrill of you screaming (so he can punish you) when you wake up. He blindfolds you, and moves the camera for a better view before flicking the lights on. He wakes you up with a slap to your ass, feeling himself grow hard as you panic. He cuts your clothes off with a knife, tells you not to squirm, and when you do and he knicks you, he just tuts and tells you that you shoulda known better.

Licks the blood from your skin with his mask rolled up before he pulls it back down (just a plain balaclava). He ends up hoisting you up so you're on your knees, positions you perfect for the camera to see, and fingerfucks you nice and fast, one hand on your throat to keep you upright, the other pitoning in and out of your hole. He makes sure to hit your g-spot/prostate every single time when he finds it, sets an absolutely brutal pace that has your tears leaking through the blindfold. When you get close, he bullies your clit/cock, moving fast and hard until you're screaming and you collapse. He tells you this is your fault, for trusting some prick and not even checking your own home.

Lines his cock up with you and doesn't prep you any further, only one orgasm and a little bit of finger fucking not nearly enough to prep you for what he's packing. He ends up fucking you hard, and fast, and brutal, still pumping your cock/rubbing your clit through the whole thing, not caring for anything but how you cry and squeeze so tight around his cock. He lets you heave sobs when he finally cums inside, no protection, and he pinches your nipples painfully hard to get your attention. When he's sure he's got it, he warns you not to let him drip out of you. Never tells you to stop crying, but tells you if you scream or try and get away, you will not like the punishment. He takes the gag out and you try to wriggle away, so he puts the gag back in while you try and apologize, ask for a second chance, and he just puts you on the floor, angles the camera just so, and takes the blindfold off. He tells you exactly how long he's been watching, how many people he sees in the stream at any given time, and then he ties a vibrator to your clit/cock and sets it on the highest setting it can go. He tells you to give the boys a good show before you retire from your acting career, and presses a kiss to your forehead through the mask.

He gives you an hour alone with your fans while he packs your stuff into the boot of his rental car.

[bendycxmet]

Under Your Spell—Vash the Stampede

Summary: You are a top supporter of a trending camboy. What you don't know, is that that camboy is your friend and roommate, Vash.

Word Count: ~3.3k

Pairing: gn!reader x camboy!Vash the Stampede

Content: sexual content, nsfw, 18+ MDNI!, masturbation, edging, voyeurism, whiny vash, teasing reader

a/n: got the brainworms for camboy vash from @biancalattei and @awkwardchick87. my only solution was to put pen to paper.

|masterlist|

sharing an apartment with vash was a blessing. rent prices in the city drove you two to ultimately decide to room with each other. besides, you had known each other for years and decided that living with each other would be a breeze granted how well you two got along. 

you and vash had retired to your rooms for the night for quite some time now. its almost like routine. you claimed you wanted to rot in bed, watching your shows for a couple of hours before work the next day, leaving your spot beside him on the couch an hour before he resided to his room way down the hall for the night.

yes, the two of you were impossibly close, practically stuck at the hip now, but how could you ever tell him that you needed to go get off to your favorite camboy? that's a secret that will be carried to the grave. 

something about this camboy separated him easily from the rest. he had enough charm and personality that watching his streams never made you feel guilt or shame. the easygoing smile that graced his face like he actually enjoyed interacting with his fans, comments that would stream in faster than your eyes could catch, and his deep, rumbling laugh that almost acted as foreplay itself. it always felt like talking to a close friend. until he of course whipped it out. 

he was blessed with a gift, is all you could say. he was the perfect size all around, his cock long enough to only give pleasure without causing pain for your insides but thick enough that you can feel him fill you up. well, at least that's how you envisioned it in your fantasies. he was a pretty pink, the tapered tip a delightful rosy red. the wispy blond happy trail that led down to him was neatly kept. you imagined how it felt to touch him there before pleasuring him, feeling the soft, fine hairs between your fingers. 

his body was nothing but lean muscle, a full chest connected to hard, outlined abs, flexed arms and toned, thick thighs always clenching as he neared his climaxes. you never saw his face. or hands, hands that were covered with ruby leather gloves. for whatever reason that may be. you also were 100% certain that he wore some type of wig, a smart move you would say. maybe he had unique hair to match the rarity of the beautiful person he was. he also always sported a bunny mask that obscured his whole face, only leaving his lips for the audience’s viewing pleasure, which only fueled your fantasies more, his lips always pulled into a smirk or cute smile, sharp teeth on display, teeth meant to dig into your flesh- 

ok, you were getting sidetracked. you quickly tapped into your phone to play some music through your speaker, faking that you were occupied with something else that was not watching a man touch himself on camera for thousands to see. you plug your headphones into your computer and click on the hidden bookmark saved to immediately take you to his stream. 

please wait for the stream to begin.

read the loading screen. the chat was up and alive, discussing what he could possibly be doing for the night. you adjusted yourself on your bed, towel beneath you, toys to your left. you waited with bated breath, ready to hear his deep voice come through your headphones. 

“hello hello!  how are we all doing tonight? hope your week went well, my lovelies. but not too well. not without me, i hope.” you giggle, blushing slightly as you watch his sweatpant clad form come into frame, adjusting himself in his chair. you could never see anything past him, his room obscured in total darkness. you wish you could though, just to know what he was like. oh well, all that mattered was him. 

it was obvious that he had nothing on underneath his sweatpants, the hard outline of himself evident through the thin gray material. he was leaning casually back in his chair, leaning his head to the side onto his raised fist, chatting with his fans for a couple of minutes. it was obvious that everyone was getting antsy to see him pleasure himself. you shoot a quick comment into the void. 

his eyes light up instantly.

“hi bonbon721! good to see you’re here. as always.” he adds with a sly wink. you cover your face with your hands. he always says hello to you, but it never fails to fluster you. of course, you were one of his first fans, loyal and supportive even six months later. you had an eye for budding talent. more comments come in, greeting you. other fans also knew of you, mostly since you always commented witty remarks. your comment quickly begins to accrue upvotes. he laughs heartily.

“see what you started bonbon? ok, fine. let’s get started. can’t fault a guy for wanting to get to know you before taking you to dinner.” he quickly drags his pants down, his cock jumping out immediately to slap against his toned stomach. he draws in a quick inhale, the cold air hitting his sensitive length. 

always ready for us, huh big boy? 

his eyes catch onto your comment, a flush spreading throughout his body, a dribble of precum leaking from him. he averts his eyes for a split second, glad his mask obscures his embarrassed expression. although, nothing escapes your attention to detail. oh, had you pulled that reaction from him? the thought twists the coil in your stomach tighter, squeezing your legs together to quell the ache between them. 

he spreads his legs further on the chair, leather-clad fingers coming down to grasp himself. a shuddering sigh leaves him, head thrown back. 

“what would you like me to do today, chat?”

>obviously touch yourself.

>do u have a flshlght

>edge yourself until bonbon tells you to cum.

>ooo

>agree ^

>yesss

you choke on your spit, sending yourself into a coughing fit. what? huh?! had the chat been scheming before you clicked in for the night?

wait, why me???

>because you’re the top supporter silly. it’s the stream’s 6th month anniversary too. lets celebrate

>and besides, our boy here has you as his favorite~

before you can type your rejection of their logic, wanting everyone in the chat to receive the same love as you do, a dark chuckle interjects.

“well, we gotta give what the people want bonbon. what do you say? play around with me?” your fingers shake as they hover over the keyboard. you take a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself, before clicking the keys.

you better hold out until i say so then.

you are so thankful that there is a screen separating the two of you, coming off as a bold and confident fan rather than the flustered, meek supporter that you actually are. 

a shaky laugh rings out into your headphones, the abrupt tightening of leather on skin hinting that he enjoyed that comment. well, enjoyed being bossed around, you had gathered from all the streams you have joined in on.

now fuck your fist like you mean it.

his hand comes up to the tip, circling it in tight circles, gathering the precum dribbling from the slit to ease the glide of the leather glove against his shaft. he twists his hand on the upstroke, wrist bending back and forth as he stroked himself. his free hand flew out to grab onto the desk on a particularly good twist of his dick, teeth digging into his bottom lip, preventing his moans from slipping out. a withering whine slips out however, thrashing his head to the side as if he could escape the euphoria thrumming through him, licking up his spine. the dings of the chat bring him somewhat back to reality.

open your eyes, pretty. remember your promise. not until i say so.

stop biting your lip and let us hear you. and keep your eyes on me. 

you type out your demands, adding one hand back in your pants. you’re already halfway there, seeing as this camboy always gets you hot and bothered just with his appearance. the chat has gone silent out of respect of you commanding him, the only thing notifying him that he and bonbon aren’t alone is the reactions floating in quick succession at the top of the comments tab. the instant he lets go of his lip, a stuttering moan comes flying out his mouth.

“‘s so good bonbon. please, let me cum. ‘m almost there.” if you could see his face, you would be able to see the blush covering it. for now, all you can see is the flush covering his chest and ears. oh. you can tell he feels good. 

got a couple more things i need you to do. cup yourself.

he lets go of the desk to grab his balls, hissing in despair at the onslaught of pleasure that shoots through his body. he arches his back, strengthening the hold he has on himself down there, bating his release. he whines loudly, hand releasing himself to quickly cover his mouth with his arm.

what did i say?

“i know i know im sorry. i just have…neighbors… that i dont want to disturb.” his eyes flit to his bedroom door, checking to see if you turned on the hallway light to check on him for that outburst. nothing. he breathes a sigh of relief. you must be asleep. or the walls are actually thick here. he sends a silent thank you to the construction people who built this building. 

dont want them knowing how good you feel? i certainly wouldn't mind hearing how good my hot neighbor is feeling tonight. maybe they’re doing the same thing as you right now. who wouldn’t?

you blush at that thought, imagining vash touching himself. damn the bathroom for separating your rooms. what you would give to hear that.

vash was in the same headspace, sharing similar thoughts. he moaned, imagining you touching yourself to his groans and whimpers. no way. you definitely didn't see him in that light. the movie binging you two indulged in every night could only last so long, you claiming you wanted some time to destress before bed, always leaving for bed before him. he relished whenever you two would touch knees, or when you would lean into his side, getting comfortable for the two-hour movie. recalling how you smelt of your body wash and detergent earlier tonight only serves to make his cock throb harder.

increase the pace.

dont have to tell him twice. he goes back into his rhythm, one hand down below, the other moving up and down his length, the rosy tip turning redder, implying his imminent release. gasps and groans ring out. his thighs shake with each upstroke, tears appearing on his waterline. he tries to blink them back, not wanting the chat, especially, bonbon, to see how easily worked up he is. he heeds your commands from earlier, keeping his eyes forward.

stop

you giggle mischievouly, happy to be in control of such a beautiful man, one that follows every whim you can think of. the whine he lets out is comical, the tears trailing down his cheeks, appearing underneath his mask, hanging off his jawline. 

“noooo please have mercy! i don’t know how longer i can hold out for.”

tell us the story of how you tripped on your apartment steps again.

“seriously?? i can’t even think straight bonbon. all i can remember is a friend of mine nearly collapsing on the floor, laughing when they saw how pouty i was when i came to them for help.”

he never mentioned that detail before. funny, you had been in a similar scenario with vash a couple months ago. if you weren’t so horny in the moment, your confusion could have been a revelation.. 

ok, i kid. chat, is it time?

>god yes 

>i dont think i can hold out much longer either

>he looks so hot already

he waits in anticipation, entire body quaking in his chair. his eyes are fixated on the comments section, waiting for your command. 

come, my good boy.

a moan that can only be described as pornographic rips from his chest, his leathered hand stroking himself with a vigor you have yet to see so far in his streaming career. a shudder rips through you, your hand flying to your toy to put it to work. you wanted to be right there with him when he came. 

he begins to blabber, hinting at his cresting release. “ohh my godd so good baby. so go-” his voice hitches, ending an octave higher. you see his eyes squeeze shut through the slits in the mask, jaw dropping open. his body seizes completely, a rumbling groan echoing into his room as he shoots ropes of cum all over his red gloves, his thighs, and his stomach. he whines as he continues to squeeze out the last remnants of his orgasm, lip quivering over gritted teeth. 

it’s almost as if you're there with him, your toy quickly buzzing your release to life, collapsing backward onto your bed, eyes rolling back into your head. you could've sworn that groan rang out closer to you than just in your ears…

you feel the towel beneath you become moist, the cool sensation pulling you back to your dimly lit room. you feel slow, ears ringing from your release, and begrudgingly pull yourself up. it feels as if you’re swimming underwater, floating. the light creeps back into your vision, eyes blinking until it clears enough for you to see the computer screen again.

holy. shit. your eyes widen, hands coming up to cover your mouth. vash is laying back in his chair, still recovering from his release. white is streaked across his thighs, droplets of his release streaming down the thick muscle while pools of his cum stay gathered in the valleys between his defined stomach. he’s panting loudly, small groans interspacing each exhale. you look down at yourself, realizing that you too have made a mess rivaling his own.

>yall seeing this????

>that has to be the most he’s cum in a looong time. maybe ever.

>new kinks discovered?? 

vash lolls his head back forward, reading the flurry of teasing statements. post-nut clarity hits him full force, and he laughs loudly out of shock and overall astonishment. “you might be right chat. i haven’t felt like that since i was a hormonal teenager. bonbon–you did something to me.”

you scream behind your hands after quickly typing your response.

you did so good for me. for us. thank you

now go shower. you’re gonna be sticky soon enough

he sighs, feeling the ecstasy leak from his body. tonight turned out better than he could of ever hoped. “yeah yeah i know. ok everyone. wow. 20 minutes flew by huh? for me it did at least. but have a good night everyone. happy anniversary! lets chat again next week. love and peace!”

>love and peaceeee

>good night king

>sleep tight my cumlord~

he gets up from his chair, pulling his sweatpants back on. you rub your hands on your face. maybe you'll shower too. usually you didn't make such a mess of yourself, but tonight was definitely an exception. you’re about to close out of the tab when you see he is still streaming. he doesn’t seem to realize though, perhaps still feeling the effects from his orgasm. you watch as he takes his gloves off, teeth pulling at the red material. you lean forward, happy to see a new part of himself. you still. 

right as he pulls his right hand from his glove, a glint of silver catches your eye. a ring with engraved flowers sits on his ring finger. a ring…you had given him for his birthday this year. 

he glances up, and jumps slightly. “whoops, missed the end call button. alright, night for real guys.” he waves, before the screen goes black.

you sit there in silence, the desk lamp in the corner the only thing illuminating your dark space. you shake your head. maybe it’s a coincidence. it's not like that ring is the only one to exist in its style. even though you found it at your local farmers market. from a local seller. you decide a shower is desperately needed. as you exit your room, you head for the bathroom next door, tip-toeing as to not wake vash-

vash who steps out from his room right as you reach the bathroom. you shriek. he shrieks. 

“what are you doing up?! i thought you went to bed an hour ago?!” he questions you. you see he makes a move to cover himself, but not before you catch onto several things that are lit from the LEDs in his room. 

he’s shirtless. wearing only gray sweatpants. your ring sits on his right hand, the hand that's moving desperately to clean cum from his stomach. your eyes then catch onto the bunny mask that’s sitting on his bed behind him.

you start screaming. he starts screaming. “WHAT WHAT IS SOMETHING BEHIND ME?!” he whips around, putting himself between you and the potential threat. 

“YOU CANT BE HIM NONONO-”

he turns back around and grabs your shoulders. “hey, slow down. what are you talking about?”

“im bonbon721… from your streams-” your eyes are tightly shut but you dare a peek at him. he’s as white as a sheet. or as his cum from earlier.

“i. um. dont knoww. what you’re talking about-” he stutters.

“oh don’t bullshit me vash. i see the mask behind you. i know you cam. and you’re damn good at it too. no wonder you have thousands of subscribers.”

you can feel the heat radiating off of him. he swallows, and drops his hands from your shoulders, down to your hands. “you don't think…it’s gross?”

vash had kept this secret to himself. he really liked you but was afraid you would see him differently for jerking himself off in front of a camera for strangers. you had always shared secrets with each other since you were young, but this was one he hesitated to share.

“what? of course not. i respect the hustle. plus-” you hesitate. if you were to finish your sentence, it would change your relationship with vash. but you see the pleading look in his eyes, and realize how much of a fool you were for him. you already came this far, especially when you admitted you were bonbon, his top supporter. “-it’s kinda hot,” you finish with a whisper.

he’s relieved, all his previous worries off his shoulders. his shoulders sag, and he leans down onto your shoulder. goosebumps break out on your skin from his proximity. he smells like sex and sweat.

“you did a good job. i wasnt lying when i said i’ve never cum like that before in over a decade.” he releases your hands, wrapping his arms around you and bringing you closer. you relax into his touch, massaging the muscles of his back. “wanna know something?” he whispers in your ear. you can only hum. “in all my streams, i always think of you when i touch myself.” he gives your ear a lick as he pushes into you slightly, making you feel how hard he is. again. 

you cry out at his confession, pushing his chest back to look at him at arms length. he’s completely smug, head tilted, smirk kept back by the sharp canines digging into his bottom lip. he looks at you from top to bottom, seeing the light sheen on your legs. 

“i liked being bossed around, more now knowing it was you doing it. mind if we do it again?”

you feel hot. who would dare refuse an offer like that? 

“why not? but let's take a shower. it’ll save us some time, especially once i’m done with you.” you push him backward, kicking the bathroom door shut behind you.

a/n: you have been subjected to me having too much fun with a fic. i got in a silly goofy mood while slutting this man out. thank you everyone! teehee xoxo

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Part 2!

[snoopdoodle]

OMG!! Snoop, it was amazing! I’m a little sad that, I didn’t find about you until now. Your writing is so great! And are your request open or are you not taking request right now because of the collaborative. (It’s ok if there not)You can make a part 2 of Ranboo dad Reader. 🏳️‍🌈 Anarchy [I say this with all of my favorite authors, but if I’m bothering you tell me please tell me]

Ahh!! Anarchy the beloved!! Of course you can have a part 2!! The link for part 1 is right below !! Also, if I had spaced this out like I was taught in english, this would be hella long-

FIRST PART \\ THRID PART

--------

Dad, but not // pt. 2

platonic!ranboo x male!reader, platonic!benchtrio x male!reader

pronouns: he/him

summary: kinda angsty second part to my story

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

You cackled in the background as your son was blown up by a creeper. Your laugh was contagious as Tubbo started laughing with you. You slapped your knee from laughing so much. Tubbo tried to stand up, but he fell, which made you all laugh harder. “Don’t get an aneurysm, dad,” Ranboo told, and this just made you suffocate more. “Holy sh-i-i-i-t, hehe..” you spoke between laughter. “‘Don’t get an aneurysm’- heh-HEH” You tried to quote, but it just turned into a coughing/laughing fit. You groaned as your throat felt sore. “Dad, please don’t die,” Your son worried, and you pat his shoulder. “Not dying any time soon,” You started, your smile kind of turning forced.

You’d yet to tell the boys, Ranboo and his friends, that you would be leaving soon. You were happy and upset. You were only in England to do work. You could rent out a place here and leave it to one of your English friends who works in England as well. Maybe you could just buy a house here… no that would cost too much- “DAD! Are you ok? You’re zoning out.” Ranboo asked. You hadn’t realized it yet, but you had been ignoring Ranboo speaking to you. When Tubbo tried, you didn’t even reply. The both of them and chat had started to get worried. Ranboo ended up grabbing your shoulders and shaking them a few times.

“Y-yeah, I-I-I’m ok boys, I think I need to sit down for a second,” you informed. Now they were even more worried. You sat down on the couch and put your face in your hands. You had a killer headache. ‘I’m overworking myself.’ you thought, annoyed. You had asked your boss for a break multiple times, but he hadn’t responded. You thought about it for another second before deciding. You would skip a few days of work, hang out with the boys, then you would tell them. Or you’d tell them, then have your fun day…. days. Telling them after seems better. “Alrighty, I think we’re gonna end stream now, folks! Have a good day, bye!” Ranboo spoke. That was what snapped you out of your ideas.

Ranboo turned to you and sadly smiled. “You doing ok, pops?” He asked, He rarely used that name for you. Of course, you felt bad. You stood up, ignoring the sharp pain that came to your head. “Don’t worry about be kiddo… and I’m sorry for making you worry. I was thinking of stuff,” You answered, smiling as you felt Ranboo un-tense and lean into the hug. Tubbo huffed and walked into the hug as well. You moved your arm so it was wrapped around both of the boys. “By the way, Tubbo, do you have any Tylenol… or Aspirin?” You asked, ruining the mood, but making the 2 laugh.

“Yeah, we do. I’ll go get you some,” He spoke as he left the hug. Ranboo let go so Tubbo could get you some meds for your headache. Ranboo smiled, asking you s question. “So, what were you thinking of that had you so…” He stopped, as he couldn’t think of the word. “Disassociated?” You replied, “Yeah, I was thinking we could do something together. Me, you, Tommy, Tubbo, and maybe someone else if you want to invite someone.” You informed. Ranboo’s smile widened and he nodded his head. “Y-yeah! That sounds awesome!” He grinned. He hadn’t taken off his mask or glasses, but you could feel the happiness radiating off him.

“Ok, ok, kid. Let me get it planned, alright?” You spoke, chuckling. You had ford a smile onto your face as Tubbo came back into the room. He handed you the meds and a glass of water. You nodded a silent ‘ thank you ‘ to him. Ranboo grabbed Tubbo’s hand and dragged him to watch a movie. “You coming, dad?” he asked, you shook your head no and pointed to your phone and he gave a look of understanding. You walked outside and took note of the stormy clouds. You dialed the number and gave a smile when she answered. “Hey, Kristin,” you greeted into the phone. You smiled as she gave a polite hello back. “I need to ask you something,” you started. “Hm?” She hummed. You could hear her cooking in the background.

“I have to tell the boys that I’m goin’ back home soo, and I don’t know how..” You ranted, frowning into the phone. You heard a creak and turned around. The door was open. “Hm?” You questioned. You closed that door, didn’t you? Oh well. You walked back to the door and shut it firmly. “Well, I’d say you just flat out tell them. You should see how they take it, and then do something with them,” You laughed into the phone and shook your head. “That was my plan already!” You exclaimed with a grin. She laughed into the phone and you could hear her tap the counter. “Well I say you just go with your plan,” She told you. You grinned and nodded.

“Alrighty then, have a good day, Kristin,” you chuckled. “You too, [Name],” She told before hanging up. You held the phone, taking a deep breath. You walked back to the door, opening it softly and stepping inside. You could hear the thunder roar from outside so you were lucky to make it in soon enough. You walked through the halls. You heard a sniff and you stopped. “Hello?” You asked before stepping into the living room. Ranboo tuned to you and you could see his puffy eyes. “Are you really going back home soon?” He asked. Your eyes went wide and you sighed, putting your head down. You nodded to him and he sniffed again.

You walked back to the boy and pat his back. Tubbo sighed and put his head down, starting to tear up as well. He enjoyed having you here as much as Ranboo did. “I-Is that why you wanted to have a fun day?” He questioned and you nodded. “I was actually thinking of how I could stay longer.” Ranboo and Tubbo’s eyes widened as they listened to your explanation. “I want to stay longer, I really do kid. My company had only paid the hotel for the 2-week stay I have, so I couldn’t stay longer than that,” You told them with a frown. You sighed again and put your head into your arms.

“I’m sorry. Let’s just have a fun day together. You can invite that Tommy kid, if your parents’ll allow it Tubbo,” You sadly chuckled. Ranboo and Tubbo smiled at how you were trying to make things better. Ranboo called Tommy as Tubbo called his parents. Tubbo and Tommy’s parents agreed, so he walked on over. You all decided to have a sleepover-type thing. Tommy would stay over for the next 4 days that you are over. You all would stream, cook, vlog, and watch a couple movies. This should be fun. The first day you all hung out, you decided to do a cooking stream. You made a great bowl of pasta… besides the fact that Tommy spilled the sauce multiple times and Ranboo dropped the pasta noodles, breaking them into bits.

The second day, You all streamed a ‘you laugh, you lose’ stream. You didn’t laugh once, although you were very close. People had found it funny when you clapped to the song “Two Trucks” on beat. Ranboo’s hand had flown to his mouth, Tubbo had busted out laughing, and it took Tommy a seconds since he didn’t know what the song was. Chat had busted out laughing, and you only knew to do that because of how many times you had heard it from Ranboo. The other funny part was when someone donated a clip from the song “WAP”, and you had sung it word for word. Yeah… you successfully made the boys lose 2 lives… each.

On the third day, you all didn’t stream, but instead watched a movie. You decided to watch the Toy Story saga. All of you cried since you are all children. On the fourth day, you all went to a Halloween store that had opened early and vlogged there. It was all fun and games… till you all got kicked out cause, out of surprise and fear, you punched (and broke) one of the animatronics. The vlog was about 20 minutes long, so you thought it was pretty successful. Although, in the end, since you had run out of footage, you decided to do some small clips of you telling stories from America before your met Ranboo’s family.

And then you had the last day, today. Tomorrow you’d be going home. It was about 2 in the morning as you layed down. Captain America was playing in the background as the boys slept. Ranboo was cuddled up to your side, as was Tubbo. Tommy, however, was resting on the other side of the couch. Earlier in the night, he claimed that he didn’t need affection, but you knew he just didn’t want to get ‘picked on’ by Ranboo and Tubbo. You smiled as the boys shifted in their hold. Yeah, you’d miss them like hell. But hey, you just had the best 5 days of your life and, honest;y, you think you might be coming back soon.

[sluttbuttsstuff]

Not to spam you but…

Yandere la squada and a darling that’s a little pant-y mess on the occasion that she masturbates and knows a member of the team is home, but upon thinking she’s alone (unaware of her stalker) is masturbating REALLY FUCKING LOUD 🥺 👉👈 sorry if it’s too filthy but this thought will not let me know peace

I do NOT know how to write short pieces; sorry, but that's just not the kind of writer i am. That being said, i had a lot of fun with this, so thanks for the request!

WARNINGS: afab femme reader, Not sfw, dub/con, but reader strongly implied to be okay with everything, voyeurism, sex toys, fingering, blow jobs, intercourse, etc.

Why is it so hard to get some alone time?!...okay, when you’re living with 9 other men, it shouldn’t really come as a surprise to you, but STILL! Well, at least you were able to release some tension, late at night when everyone was too asleep to barge into your room to ask you for something, but you had to stay quiet. God forbid anyone hear the noises you make, so you had to get yourself off quickly and efficiently, without getting to really enjoy yourself. So when this week’s meeting left you free for a day at the base ALONE (even Risotto himself had to be out for a mission, which was rare) you intended to take advantage of it to the fullest.

First: You sang all your favorite songs at the top of your lungs, without fear of anyone hearing you go out of key, or judging you for your taste in music. Then, You took an extra long shower AND bubble bath, effectively using up all the hot water and pampering your skin and hair-which you never had time to when you had to share the bathroom with all the other members. You ate a ton of junk food and ordered delivery all for yourself, and watched all the shows and movies you didn't have the time to before because Formaggio would watch sports games all day.

Finally, you figured now was as good a time as any to....”relax your body”. You were so excited, it had been so long since you’d taken the time to really explore your body while you rubbed one out. You got undresses, rubbing your smooth, moisturized legs together while you turned on one of your favorite pornos on your laptop. You mimicked the motions onscreen, rubbing your neck, your chest, stomach, and finally the lower lips of your pussy. You were already warm and tingling with anticipation, and it didn’t take long for you to get into it. You let yourself moan freely, not saying anything in particular as you clenched around your fingers, lubing yourself up for your toys that were waiting to be used again.

Eventually, the porn ended, but you were just getting started, rocking yourself on your favorite dildo, circling a vibe around your clit and pinching your nipples. It was intense but slow, pleasure raising and declining like gentle hills you rode out. Still, you held off your orgasm for as long as possible, you were having so much fun you didn’t want it to end. You were so invested in the pleasure you were feeling, the rest of the world went away, you didn't even notice the crash of your laptop off the bed.

You were close now, like it or not, so you pushed your body faster and harder than you had in ages, despite the cramps in your wrist and hips. You couldn’t stop your body now, wailing out, tears streaming down your face as you begged yourself for release. Almost there, almost-!!!!

Formaggio: Of course Formaggio was able to finish his hit early- he’s good at his job and doesn’t like carrying things out needlessly! Besides, his favorite team’s playing tonight, he has to hurry home before Prosciutto claims the TV again for an old movie marathon, ughhh. He calls out to you when he arrives home, since he knows you were off this week, but didn’t hear you greet him. You must now have heard him, either, or you wouldn’t be making noises like that. Formaggio cackles to himself-of course you’re getting off, he does the same when he gets the day off too. He likes to do something more exciting than usual though, like leave his door open, or do it in someone else’s room. Yours, for example.

Stifling his own laughter, he uses his stealth skills to sneak into your room. You’re so out of it, you don’t even notice when he opens the door, or your overturned laptop at the foot of your bed. It’s pretty hot, actually, you’re usually more tight-lipped than this, refusing his advances and keeping to yourself when not at work. He likes this side of you a lot more; hair messy, gleaming with sweat, and moaning like a porn star. Yeah baby, let it all out! Formaggio knows he probably shouldn’t, that you’ll kill him afterwards, but Formaggio isn’t exactly a good guy per se so he forces himself on you and grabs the dildo from your hands. You gasp and make an odd, half-choking noise, shocked at Formaggio’s presence and trying to stop moaning in front of him while he fucks you on your toy at double speed.

“Yo, y/n, had a good day today without the guys around? IT’s about to be a lot better, now that I'm here~ why don’t you let me have a turn making you feel good? I’m sure you’re tired from doing this all yourself.” Formaggio teases you, as you struggle to find the words and hide the noises. Finally, you roll your eyes and give up; if Formaggio really wants to help you out so badly, then you’re gonna put him to work. The two of you end up fucking for the rest of the aftenoon and evening, until Proscuitto bangs on your door to keep it down, and even then you have another round or two while giggling.

The two of you are exhausted, but sated, afterwards, and you convince Formaggio to make a run to the fridge to pull out your leftovers, on the condition you share them with him. You spend the rest of the night eating in bed, watching Formaggio’s beloved game on your laptop, and falling asleep. It's an almost perfect end to your day, except for the fact that Formaggio snores louder than a chainsaw.

Illusio: unfortunately, this is not the first time Illusio’s heard (or seen) you masturbate, try as you might to hide it. With a stand like his, you know he not only has the means, but desire to snoop on others. Hell, half the time he doesn’t even mean to spy on others, he just forgets about other’s privacy when he’s in his mirror world. This is, however, the first time you’ve been so vocal, presumably because everyone’s supposed to be out right now. Poor girl, it must be hard to take care of your needs when you’ve got to stare at him all day. He’d be pretty flustered too, with his long chocolate locks and well-toned muscles. Illusio pities you, so he decides he’ll give you the help you clearly need. Jumping from the mirror in the hallway to the one in your bedroom (See? You don’t even cover it up, of course you want him to ravish you!) he watches and listens for a minute at the raunchy display before him. Despite you clearly doing this for quite awhile, judging from the sheen of sweat and heavy breathing, your movements were steady and rhythmic, almost like you’d been edging yourself for a long time. How cute. You must have wanted him to finish the job for you. You’re being very loud however, which Illusio likes, but you’re not saying what he wants to hear. So, he slinks over to you like a ghost, and puts his hand over your mouth to stop you from screaming.

“As much as I love coming home to hear you pleasuring yourself, I think we can do a little better than this. And also-” He kisses the side of your shocked face, “If you’re going to scream something, scream my name.” He picks up where you left off, edging you again and again until you’re so desperate that you beg him to fuck you, and say all the pretty words he wants you to. He fucks you so good you squirt when you come, and makes you come again after he finishes inside of you. It takes you a minute or two to recover, but when you do, and Illusio is bragging about what he did to you, you chase him out of your room with a pillow for being an annoying cocky bastard.

Prosciutto:

Hmmm, well, this is a bit awkward. He knows what the noises mean the minute he first hears them, but isn’t sure how to approach this without embarrassing both of them. If it had been one of the other men, he’d have just slammed their door until they shut up so he didn’t have to listen to their tug session, but Prosciutto prided himself on being a gentleman, and didn’t want to embarrass a lady if he didn’t have to.

He waited about 5 or so minutes, hoping you would wrap up, but when you only got louder and louder he decided enough was enough. After all, god forbid one of the other men hear you-like Illusio or Formaggio. So, steeling himself, he coughed loudly and knocked on your door. You must not have heard him, as your moaning didn’t stop, you were clearly enjoying yourself too much to notice or care about the other men in the base.

Prosciutto huffed, almost offended. Is this what he gets for trying to be polite? Jerking off loudly like a common whore where anyone could walk into you? He tried the doorknob, and was almost disappointed you were careless enough to leave it unlocked. Really, this was all your fault, so when your noises of pleasure turned to shock and embarrassment, he merely chided you for your carelessness, forcing his tongue into your mouth to shut you up while he took over. He took control and instructed you how to properly touch yourself, as well as jerk him off in appreciation for the self-love lesson. He decides to leave it there for the night, as motivation for a reward the next time you’re home alone. So you better work hard on your next missions if you want him to properly fuck you, got it?

Pesci:

Pesci was grateful Prosciutto was willing to finish up the job for him, since it meant he got to go home early. Heck, maybe he could even get a chance to watch one of his documentaries before Formaggio came home and the game started. However, he was growing increasingly concerned about the noises coming from your room. He didn’t want to pry or anything, but you sounded...almost in pain. Sometimes you worked out or did yoga though, and Pesci thought that’s what you were working on, so he decided to leave you be.

However, upon hearing a loud crash, followed by a particularly pained groan, he thought it was best to check in on you. He knocked on your door frantically, but you were unable to answer it. Oh no, maybe you’d hurt yourself so badly you couldn’t even move! Determined to help you, he opened the door, only to see you writhing on the bed, nude and in the midst of an intense self-love session.

Pesci’s mouth opened, and closed, but unlike you, he couldn’t make a sound at the sight before him. It’s true, he harbored a small crush on you, but he had hope he would see you like this under better circumstances. He wasn’t sure what to do, he knew the right thing was to close the door and pretend like this never happened, but you seemed desperately in need of help, not to mention Pesci’s pants were tented with his own sudden but no less intense arousal.

Thinking back to advice Prosciutto had given him about manning up and taking what he wanted from life, he creeps up to your still unaware body, crouching onto your bed with a squeak of the bed springs. This is enough to break you from your trance, and you jolt up, looking at Pesci in shock and embarrassment. Pesci shushes you before you can say a word, pushing a trembling, clammy finger to your lips.

“Please...Let me help you y/n,” He begs you, looking you in the eyes with more courage and bravery than you’d seen from the man since you first met him. Still wet and horny, and body growing tired, you lick his finger, earning an adorable squeak from Pesci; this is going much better than he thought it would. You pull him on top of you, and show him what to do.

What Pesci lacks in experience he makes up for in quick-learning and a massive cock with a short refractory period. You move his hands for him across your body, bringing yourself to climax finally, and return the favor with a blowjob. Pesci doesn’t last long, but he’s hard again very quickly, which you decide to use to your advantage. You ride him again and again, Pesci doing everything you tell him to, and making sure you come as many times as he does. He comes everywhere, inside you and out and on your chest, and makes quite the mess of you.

IT doesn’t stop him from pulling you into a passionate kiss and spooning when you’re both sated, mumbling his thanks and sweet compliments about you. You end up sleeping together that night, and in the morning the men tease him half to death about it, but you can tell Prosciutto's proud of him.

Melone:

Oh, he’s been WAITING for this day since you first joined the team, and now that it’s finally happening he can hardly believe it’s real. First he Manages to reactivate the babyface from today’s mission to grab his camera and record everything. Then, he grabs his chest of toys from his room to help you out. He has a hard time not just jumping in and screwing you into your mattress, but like everything in Melone’s life, he has a plan for this, and he intends to follow through with it. After getting a minute or two of just your moans recorded (just in case his “mission” is unsuccessful, at least he’ll have fap material for later, he decides to make himself known.

“You know, y/n, your arm’s are going to get worn out like that before you’re able to climax if you keep this up.” Melone chided you, sitting on your vanity stool, head in his hands like he wasn’t just watching you touch yourself. You scream, out of shock and anger this time, trying to cover yourself and yell at him to get out. Melone’s incredibly stubborn however, and the tongue of a snake, and is able to persuade you into letting him stay, be it from charm, blackmail, or perhaps tapping into your own dark desires.

He starts by merely watching you, taking pictures with his phone and directing babyface on angles to take video. He instructs you on how to touch yourself, and gives you free range on his collection of toys. It all feels good, and you are able to come, but you’re still unsatisfied, to your disappointment. As if knowing this would be the result all along, Melone plays dumb and makes YOU beg him to touch and fuck you.

Once you finally give in, though, he’s much nicer to you, and to no one’s surprise is an excellent lover. He licks your pussy until you come again, and then finger fucks you once more for good measure, before pulling out his copy of the Kama Sutra. He lets you pick out your favorite positions, as well as a few he thinks will give you the most pleasure, and you tire yourself out.

Ghiaccio:

Ghiacchio does NOT want to deal with your loud noises right now, and he ESPECIALLY doesn’t want to deal with the “problem” it’s caused him personally. He breaks your door down, fully intending to chew you out for being so….”distracting” but ironically enough, Ghiacchio freezes when he sees you. He doesn’t have the most experience with dating, especially not with women (I imagine what limited experience he has was with other passione members *cough* Melone *cough*) so seeing you fully bare in front of him is a lot.

The noises you made haven’t helped either, halfway pained and desperate, it makes Ghiaccio oddly jealous; he wants to be the one that makes you make those noises. So before you can chase him out, or cover yourself, he tackles you on the bed, sloppily kissing and touching you. He’s rough, as you could have probably guessed, but also weirdly shy and gentle? For example, he fingers you so roughly and quickly you cum squirting within minutes, but he’s looking you in the eyes the entire time and gaging your expressions/reactions. He’s got a giant blush on his face, almost like he’s ashamed of doing this, but then bites your shoulder while he spears himself inside of you with a snarl.

Good news: you are no longer the loudest one in the house, Ghiacchio progressively growling then shouting the closer he is to climax. He jackhammers you with incredible speed, and bends your body in half to suit his own purposes. It takes him a couple rounds until he’s fully sated, but then he gets really soft afterwards. He likes to spoon you from behind so you don’t see his face, but he holds you gently, rubbing your shoulders where he nipped you, and soothing your sore muscles.

Risotto:

Let’s be honest: this isn’t his first time hearing you masterbate, he’s heard everyone in the base do it at least once. Hell, he’s even walked in on Melone a dozen times, once with Ghiacchio, so that’s not the issue. What is the issue, however, is that you’re being so loud and obvious he can’t ignore it. Even putting aside his personal feelings for you (which he isn’t necessarily willing to do) it would be bad if you were keeping yourself pent up like this around the others. You could be distracted on missions and hurt yourself or mess up your hit. Or worse- you could go to the others for sexual relief.

Clearly, you needed help, and it was your capo’s responsibility to help you take care of it, and only him. He turns invisible and sneaks into your room, but he needn’t have tried so hard to be stealthy. You were clearly in your own little world, fucking yourself on your fingers, crying out over the wet squelching of your aching pussy. He touches you lightly, so lightly you barely notice, while he’s still invisible. Sure, Risotto’s more than happy to do this, and he doesn’t care if you or the others know about his feelings, but he’s still a little shy, and unsure how you’ll react.

He’s worried for nothing, however, when you unconsciously rock into his touch, palming your breasts and licking the sweat off your brow. You’re confused about the phantom touches lingering on your body and invisible force rubbing your clit, but too aroused to do anything about it. You merely relax your tired body, letting yourself be finger-fucked into climax, crying out in pleasure-pain from the large, rough hands raking orgasm after orgasm out of your body.

After Risotto’s able to finger you enough to (he hopes) sufficiently stretch you out, he repositions your limp body, fluffing pillows under your head and placing you to face his still invisible body. He rubs the head of his cock against your clit and entrance, collecting as much lubrication onto his cock as he can. At the last minute, Risotto turns himself invisible, and watches the look of surprise and embarrassment turn into red hot need as he bottoms out into your aching, tender pussy.

He doesn’t go easy on you, each thrust hitting the deepest parts of you, forcing squeals out of you every time. You wrap your arms around him, trying to take some sort of control of the situation, but Risotto doesn’t give you an inch as he fucks the daylights out of you. Your moans spur him on, having gone from non-specific mewling to begging for Risotto to go deeper, harder, “more, more, more!” Risotto likes this side of you best, completely under his control and telling him exactly what he’s doing to you.

Far too soon, you orgasm again, already sensitive from your previous orgasms. Risotto isn’t done though, and doesn’t finish for several hours. Even when the others go home, and are tempted to say something, they hear who’s name you’re calling, and think twice before interrupting their capo’s “alone time.” Finally, after finishing, You pass out almost immediately, too exhausted to even clean yourself off. So, Risotto takes care of you, cleaning up your mess, putting some comfy pjs on you, and fetching some water and painkillers (just in case).

When he walks out of your room, the Squad is silent, no one daring to say anything (Ghiacchio and Formaggio are physically restraining Melone from talking). Risotto sees no need to say anything to them either, merely gives them all an unreadable look, before smiling to himself and returning to your room. Tomorrow, he’s going to need to rearrange the schedule; you’ll need some time off to recover.

[yamigooops]

Trail of Chocolate

genre: smut pairing: Bokuto x fem!reader words: 2.7k warnings: FOODPLAY, mommy x baby boy if you squint, oral sex, a hand job, unprotected sex (but with an established relationship)

a/n: this took me way too long because once I finished the fun stuff I didn't wanna finish it lol. but yeah this was for @prettysetterbaby's Valentine's Day collab so go check out the rest of those posts here!

this is also being posted as a celebration of me hitting 2k followers so thank you guys so much for that, i appreciate it more than you know 🥺🥰

“Can I come in now, you big dork?” you giggled, waiting a bit anxiously outside the bedroom door. Bokuto claimed he had a surprise for you and needed a moment to prepare, so you had to wait outside. All you wanted was to go in and see what he had planned.

“One second, aaaaaaand you can come in now!” he called excitedly. “Close your eyes though, we gotta count down for this one.” You obliged him his small request, placing your hand over your eyes and opening the door slowly. “Okay, one. Two. Three,” he called. Once he finished, you lowered your hand and your jaw dropped slightly.

The room was dark, candles providing a soft glow to the space and lacing the air with a warm, cinnamony scent. Laying there on the bed was your husband Bokuto in all his nude glory, and along his chest was a trail of chocolate syrup with a few strawberries along the way, from his neck down to his groin. You felt a twinge in your stomach as you looked upon him, your lips turning up in a grin.

“Happy Valentine’s day, love,” he purred as you advanced, removing your shirt and pants along the way. “You get a trail of chocolate today.” His voice was rough around the edges but contained a tone of humor at the situation. You playfully rolled your eyes as you unclasped your bra and tossed it to the floor behind you.

“All… this, for me?” you gestured to the sweet trail down his chest. “Chocolate and Bokuto, two of my favorite things all at once.” You grinned as you settled yourself onto his lap and carefully leaned down over his chest to kiss him, being sure not to disturb the trail.

“I do try my best,” he chuckled against your lips. “Which end would you like to start your journey on?” His fingers dug deliciously into your hips as he ground up into your clothed heat.

Thinking for a moment, you brought your lips to his ear and spoke softly. “I think I’ll start at the bottom and work my way back up to your pretty lips.” You thought you felt his skin raise a bit with goosebumps as you pressed a gentle kiss onto his earlobe. Raising back up onto your legs, you stood up and grabbed the bottle of lube from the nightstand. Returning to your lover, you situated yourself on the bed between his legs.

You leaned down to press your lips against the head of his cock, licking up the bead of precum resting there. You licked a stripe up the bottom of it, right along the prominent vein resting beneath the skin. As you came to the end, you wrapped your lips around the tip and bobbed your head a few times before releasing him with a pop. He groaned at the loss of contact before you put some lube onto your hand and wrapped your fingers around the base of his length. He let out a hiss as you tightened your grip just slightly, before you relaxed it again and began to move up and down.

Then, with a playful glance up at him, you bent down and your tongue made contact with the skin just above his dick. He shuddered, unused to the feeling, before relaxing, and you started moving up toward his chest. The chocolate sauce was sweet on your tongue, and you did everything you could to not leave any behind so as not to leave your boyfriend sticky.

“Mmnh, you taste so good baby,” you cooed between tongue-fulls of chocolate. You kissed the skin below his bellybutton, and he twined his fingers through your hair, keeping it back and out of your face. You were grateful for the assistance, as you didn’t particularly want chocolate in your hair, and it didn’t hurt that the feeling of his fingers on your scalp was one of your favorites in the world.

Your hand continued to pump his length, thumb occasionally reaching up to run over the slit and collect the precum leaking out. You felt his hips raise up into your hand and paused in your ministrations. Your free hand pressed gently into his hip as you looked up at him playfully. “Aw come on now, Bo, no getting ahead of yourself,” you chided. He huffed and you returned to what you were doing, this time with your fingers dug lightly into his hip as he had done to you so many times before.

You were at his abs now, the muscle firm beneath your tongue as you reached the first strawberry. You bit down on it, the sweet juice filling your mouth as you chewed. As you swallowed, you made eye contact with the man below you, taking the opportunity to run your tongue over your lips in a way you prayed was seductive. It must have worked because you got a big gulp and a shiver in return. With that, you returned to your conquest of the body before you.

“God, Y/N, f-feels so good,” Bokuto groaned, fingers tightening in your hair. You felt your core tighten in response, aching to be touched. But you resisted, keeping your one hand fixed on his wriggling hips while the other moved over his cock with increasing speed.

You were at the next strawberry now, eating it in much the same way as the last, and you were savoring the feeling of his every twitch and sigh and moan. You played with him like he was putty in your hands, and the thought was electrifying. To know that this man, one of the best volleyball players in the world, was yours alone had you so on edge you could get off to the mere thought of it. You had the power to bring him to his knees if you so desired it, so you decided to make it as fun as possible. Why not toy with him a bit while you held him captive?

“Oh god baby,” you paused, pressing your chest slowly up and down his thigh. “I’m getting so wet right now; I need you so bad.” He let out a strangled moan, unprepared for the feeling of your breasts grinding against his leg. His hips moved with renewed vigor, so you simply pressed the pads of your fingers harder into his hip, almost hoping to leave little bruises there like he did to you so often.

“Nng, baby you feel t-too good, I can’t- mmph- can’t hold out much longer.” The words that left his lips were strained with lust, barely above a whisper but full of such emotion it made your chest swell with pride. You nearly had him on those pretty knees of his.

“Aww come on baby, I’m almost done with dessert,” you sighed, swallowing the third strawberry that laid on his pectoral just above the nipple. With a grin, you ran your tongue over the little bud, earning a soft gasp from the silver-haired man. You pressed your lips against it in a gentle kiss before moving on, knowing he was nearing his edge. You wanted to be done with the chocolate before that happened.

“I know you can hold on just a little longer for me, can’t you?” Your voice took on the tone of one speaking to a child, raising at the end in a melodic tone as you returned your tongue to the trail set before you.

“Y-yes of course I c-can.” You could tell he was getting dangerously close, so you decided it was worth it to speed things up a bit. You finished off the last strawberry and then the end of the trail of chocolate ended at the hollow beneath his Adam’s apple, which bobbed as he gulped, eyes scrunched shut.

With a kiss to his jaw, you returned your mouth down to his groin, taking his length in your mouth once again. He hissed at the sensation, and you could tell he was painfully hard. You hollowed out your cheeks, moving up and down at a steady, swift pace that was sure to leave him breathless.

“Love, I-I’m gonna-” he cried before bursting in your mouth. You swallowed the thick ropes of white that he released, allowing only a small stream to escape to run down his length. You pumped him through his orgasm, waiting until he was tugging your hair and whimpering in overstimulation to release him.

You crawled back up his body to meet his lips once again, your tongue meeting his with the taste of arousal and chocolate still in your mouth. He placed one hand around the back of your hips and the other gently against your cheek as he pulled you against him. In one swift movement, he turned you over, so he was above you, arms framing your body.

“How’d you like your snack?” He grinned down at you, looking owlish as ever. You felt that familiar tightening in your core, your panties growing ever wetter. He trailed his fingers over your jaw, down the column of your neck to rest on your breast, where he kneaded the flesh for a moment. He brought his lips to yours as he continued his journey down your body, leaving goose flesh in his wake. When his fingertips reached the line of your underwear, he paused, pulling back from your mouth. “God, I love you so much,” he whispered into the space between you. “I hope you know that, Y/N.”

You nodded, bringing your hands up to run them through his hair gently. “I know love, I know,” you murmured back raising your forehead up to meet his as you closed your eyes. He sighed, pushing his fingers past the border of your panties to rest against your core. He pressed a finger against your clit, making you draw in a sharp breath as he made up for the contact you had been lacking.

“’M gonna make you feel so good baby,” he growled, pressing a bit harder before slipping his middle finger into your slit. You whimpered, tugging on his hair as you brought his mouth back down to yours. He pumped in and out for a few moments before adding another finger. You ground your hips into his hand, desperate for the much-needed contact. Watching him struggle against you had left you so needy you could barely stand it, and the feeling of his calloused fingers against the tender flesh of your walls was just too good.

“Bo…” you sighed, bringing one leg up to hitch behind his hips. He grunted, pressing his fingers as deep into you as possible and curling them mercilessly. You cried out; head thrown back at the sensation. “Need you inside me baby,” you groaned, desperate for the feeling of him.

“Alright darling, of course,” he placed a gentle kiss on your chin, sliding his hand out with one final curl of his fingers. Looking down, you saw a thin string of cream connecting your core and his fingers, stomach fluttering at the sight. He used the arousal on his digits to slicken his dick, mixing it with the fluids already there from your earlier ministrations.

He brought the head of his cock to run up your slit, collecting the juices there and pressing against your needy clit all in one fluid motion. Bringing it back down, he pressed gently against your hole. Bringing one hand to your cheek, he prompted you to open your eyes. When you did, you found him gazing down at you with a gentleness that took your breath away. “Are you ready darling?” he whispered, a small smile on his lips.

“Always.” Your lips raised into a smile to mirror his own, and with that he cut the tension with a knife and pushed past your entrance. The feeling of him inside you was so intimately gorgeous that you had to bring your forehead up to his, wincing ever so slightly at the stretch as he soon bottomed out.

His thrusts were slow and deliberate, taking care to hit every sensitive spot he could hit. Your walls embraced him as a lover would, warm and supple against his member. With every pump, your hips came up to meet his in a movement that could only be described as a dance. The two of you intertwined, your legs coming up to hook around his back and your hands coming up to card through his mussed hair.

His lips were plush against the skin of your neck as he pressed kisses down the column of your throat, pausing to nip at the skin before moving on. Your moans filled the air, and his grunts of pleasure provided punctuation. The heat building in your core burned red hot as you neared your climax.

His fingers came down to press against your clit, moving expertly against the needy little bud, and you nearly burst into flames right then and there. The moment was so intimate and sacred that you were on the verge of tears, never wanting it to end, but you felt yourself nearing your climax, nonetheless.

“Come on love,” he murmured into your ear, breath hot against your skin. “You’re so beautiful when you’re like this. Cum for me, won’t you?”

His words were all you needed to throw you over the edge, stars bursting against the backs of your eyelids as words came tumbling from your lips. “B-Bokuto!” you cried as he fucked you through your climax. His thrusts grew faster and sloppier as he grew closer to his own. “Give me e-everything you’ve got” you groaned, burying your face in his shoulder as your nails raked against his back.

“M gonna c-cum,” he grunted, just a moment before he buried himself to the hilt and burst inside you, pouring hot love into you that coated your walls in white. You moaned at the feeling, body trembling in his grasp as he sagged against you, pumping in and out lazily to draw out the pleasure as he softened inside you.

“Bo,” you whispered against the slightly sweaty skin of his chest. Your fingers splayed against his back, gently running over the slightly raised tracks where your nails had dug in the haze of your pleasure. “I love you, I love you so much.” The words were charged with passion, and his lips pressed into your forehead as he gently pulled out, arousal oozing out of your core as he did.

“You did so well sweetheart,” he breathed, lips brushing against your forehead as he spoke. “Why don’t we get you all cleaned up and we can snuggle?” You nodded as he rolled off you. You followed, meaning to walk beside him, but he slid his arms beneath your legs and back to lift you easily against his chest. Making his way to the bathroom, he placed you atop the large sink, the marble cool against the flushed skin of your bottom and thighs.

He dampened a towel in warm water before returning to stand between your legs. He leaned down to press kisses against your collarbone as he ran the towel over your thighs and core, cleaning off the arousal that seeped from inside you. “You’re so pretty with my cum dripping out of you,” he whispered playfully, a devilish grin curling the corners of his lips. “I can’t wait until we’re ready for a baby.”

“Me neither, honey,” you smiled softly, picturing him holding a little bundle of joy in his muscular arms. “You’re gonna make such a good father.”

“And you’re gonna be the best mommy in the whole world,” he smiled, looking up to kiss you on the nose. He cleaned himself up before picking you back up with a hand on your bottom and the other on your back as you locked your legs behind his back and your arms around his neck. He placed you back on the bed before going around to blow out all the candles. He then returned to the bed and crawled in behind you, situating himself to cradle you against his chest. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/N,” he murmured into your hair before kissing the back of your head.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Bo, I don’t know what I’d do without you,” you whispered into the dark and fell asleep in the arms of the man you loved more than anything in the world.

consider buying me a coffee for exclusive writing

[gastricpierrot]

Title: Ships in the Night 

Series: Genshin Impact

Relationship: ZhongVen

Rating: T

Summary:

Barbatos had always wanted to enjoy a Ludi Harpastum with Morax, making so many empty promises with him over the years to go together one day. A festival of fun and games close to his own heart, it’s a change of pace he always thought Morax could appreciate. They finally manage this after all these centuries, yet Barbatos just had to be an idiot at the very end.

He rests his arm over his eyes, exhaling a slow breath. He's such an idiot.

Also on AO3

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The sheer idea of festivities lasting two whole weeks sounds absolutely exhausting to Morax, yet even at the peak of the Ludi Harpastum, Mondstadt’s people do not seem like they are slowing down anytime soon.

Morax’s tugged along by the cuff of his sleeve, Barbatos in the lead as they weave their way through the packed streets. Songs and cheer fill the air, mingled with the scents of various food, flowers, and of course, the city’s beloved wine. Barbatos himself is already tipsy despite it still being rather early in the day, having downed almost every pint of free alcohol that’s offered to him by the countless vendors they come across. There's an occasional stumble in his steps, but his spirits remain high as he shows Morax around with wholehearted excitement, a bright grin across his lips, a lively blush on his cheeks.

Morax finds the myriad of sensations dizzying, too many sights and sounds and scents bombarding him all at once—and he holds on to Barbatos’ presence for balance. Barbatos, in contrast, seems to harbour no such qualms, flitting from one booth to the next with ease, only pausing to look back when he finds something he wants to recommend. The apples from this store, the handcrafted trinkets from another, the freshly made Mora Meat from yet another one. He isn’t shy when it comes to haggling—even though Morax did remember to bring his wallet for once (much to Barbatos’ exaggerated horror) and he’s certain there would be enough between them to last the day—but it seems to be a normal occurrence to the vendors. Morax watches their good-humored banters, sees how comfortable Barbatos is around these parts and in these situations.

It’s clear how much he loves Mondstadt, and how much he is loved in return.

They spend the rest of the afternoon like this, navigating the packed streets, Barbatos showing him his favorite spots, stopping only for the occasional breathers and snacks. Mondstadt’s festivals have a very different atmosphere to them compared to those back in Liyue, unique in a way Morax can’t exactly pinpoint. Rowdier, perhaps, with the people more comfortable when it comes to mingling with strangers. Morax has lost count of the number of times he’s been randomly approached to be given some sort of gift, or to be invited for meals or gatherings he politely declines. Perhaps the community here is simply tighter knit as a whole, as compared to the more family-centric people of Liyue.

Barbatos leads him to a park at some point, declaring it’ll be their last stop before he has to prepare for a performance after sunset. Morax notices how it’s mainly families and children in this area, not a single wine vendor in sight. There are booths for games instead, where players will have the chance to earn various prizes if they win. Each is packed with groups of youngsters, all vying for the best toys on offer. Shrill, excited voices cheered and jeered at one another; in a way inciting even more chaos here compared to the people crowding the market lanes.

“Why don’t you give one a try? Even adults are allowed to play, you know,” Barbatos suggests when Morax stops to watch a child’s attempt at a game of throwing hoops over cups marked with numbers. Morax glances at him, sees his wayward smile.

“I don't think it’d be fair to the young ones if I did,” he says, to which Barbatos only barks out a laugh.

“Show off,” he retorts, and even Morax cracks a smile.

“Um, excuse me.”

They’re just about to continue on their way when a voice calls out to them. Morax turns around, not seeing anyone until it occurs to him to look down. A lone young girl stares at him wide-eyed from below, a messy flower crown clutched tightly in her hands.

“Mister, please have this!” She offers the item to him, her words slightly rushed from her enthusiasm. Morax has turned down countless gifts throughout the day, but this time, at least, he knows better than to needlessly upset a child.

So he kneels down to be a little closer to eye-level with her. “It is an honor to receive your gift.”

She stretches out her arms, and Morax tips his head to let her crown him.

The child giggles in delight as she steps back. “You really are like a prince, mister! Bye-bye!”

Morax watches her run back to her parents a little way off, warmth blossoming in his chest as he waves his own farewell to her. He gets back on his feet, and finds Barbatos looking at him with an expression he’s never seen him wear.

“It suits you,” he says, like he actually means it rather than the usual sarcasm Morax’s expected he would go for. He supposes he must be quite the sight, a full-grown adult with a falling-apart flower crown perching lopsided atop his head.

“It probably suits you more, Bar—” he stops himself just in time, remembering that they’re here only as humans and nothing more, and that they should at least make a bit of effort to keep up appearances. Though, it's not like anyone within their vicinity would actually be paying attention.

“Venti,” he tries anyway, and immediately breaks into a frown. The name still feels strange on his tongue, no matter how much he’s tried to practice saying it.

“Gods, it does feel weird hearing you call me that,” Barbatos admits with a slight wince, but Morax could somewhat tell that he appreciates it, nonetheless. It's the way his features brighten at the sound of it, the way his eyes would light up ever so slightly. It is, after all, a name bestowed upon him by a beloved friend many years ago. Barbatos has not been called such for a long time. “But yeah, no, you should keep that. Have some fun, let loose a little!”

Morax doesn’t exactly see how wearing flowers in his hair contributes to “letting loose”, but he doesn’t argue.

They have time to go grab something for dinner just as dusk falls, and then Barbatos is bringing him to what he claims to be one of the main final highlights of the Ludi Harpastum: an event of all night drinking and fireworks. There are several spots around the city hosting such sessions, all offering endless streams of food and alcohol sponsored by Mondstadt’s major wineries. Barbatos will be performing in the one held at the city square—the main place, he boasts—first of the few bards invited there to further enliven the mood.

Dozens of chairs and tables are set up across the open space, most already packed with people by the time they get there. There’s a small stage at the very front, the sides of the venue lined with booths in charge of the food and drinks. Waiting staff donning bright uniforms dart from table to table, expertly weaving their way around the already half-intoxicated crowd.

It’s almost overwhelming; the energy, the pungent scent of food and strong wine, the sheer rowdiness of the people gathered around. Morax stops by a convenient tree a respectable distance away from the square, just far enough that the chances of a random drunkard stumbling over and dragging him in would be minimal.

And “I think I’ll stay here,” he says, when Barbatos turns to him with raised eyebrows.

“Don’t want to join in?” he asks, despite Morax’s answer already being obvious.

“I’m sure I can enjoy the atmosphere well enough from here.”

“Hmm, fair enough.” Barbatos shrugs after a quick gauge of the distance between them and the heart of the event. Then he smiles, hands on his hips. “Anyway. I’ll get going first, then. I’ll come find you when I’m done?”

“If I haven’t already left,” Morax says, because he genuinely does not know how much of this unbridled revelry he can tolerate. Even now, part of him wants nothing more than to walk off and find somewhere quiet to wind down for the rest of the evening.

Of course, his statement immediately gets Barbatos whining. “At least wait for me!!!”

“Just go before you’re late.” Morax shoos him off, though he doubts anyone present currently retains even the slightest sense of time.

“Fine, fine!” Barbatos relents, cheeks still puffed, “but I’m going to throw rocks at you if you really leave without me, alright?”

Morax halfheartedly assures he can throw as many rocks at him as he wants if it comes to it, then with a sudden rush of wind and a final harrumph, Barbatos turns on his heels and strides towards the stage, his people cheering his name the moment they spot him.

“Looking forward to what you have for us tonight, Venti!”

“Venti you rascal, you really made us wait this time!”

“Venti, you’re looking lovely as ever!”

Venti, Venti.

The descent of a god, unknown to his own people.

Barbatos takes his seat on the single stool placed on the stage, crossing his legs just so, his posture relaxed yet brimming with elegance. The wind carries the sounds of his lyre all the way to where Morax stands, clear and proud amidst the endless chatter of the crowd. He begins with a slow tune, a moment of calm cutting through the chaos. Demanding attention.

Quiet. Listen.

Morax too, catches himself holding his breath.

And then Barbatos strums another note and smoothly transitions into a new tune, and the crowd explodes with excitement. His next song matches more to the barely suppressed merriment around him, its melody upbeat and festive. He’s skilled at involving his audience, easily encouraging them to sing and dance along. Charming, radiant. He captivates all who behold him—even Morax, despite such genre of music never being to his tastes. It’s a rather belated realization to come to, but seeing him fully in his element like this, Morax can tell that Barbatos’ boastings indeed hold their weight, and that he truly has mastered the craft of a bard.

Barbatos leaves the stage around the middle of his fourth song, slipping into the crowd as he continues his performance. He sings and twirls and dances, one with his people—and somehow still, Morax spots him managing to down some drinks in between. His current song involves a back and forth; he sings one line, then prompting the nearest person to follow up. It seems to be a piece everyone’s wholly familiar with, all who enthusiastically join in barely stumbling on their turn.

Morax notices too, after a few minutes of observation, that it also seems to be endless; constantly looping around the chorus. He wouldn’t put it past Barbatos for doing this deliberately, for as long as it continued, he could drink.

And he does drink. He drinks so much that it’s almost impressive, since he only has a few seconds at a time to gulp down his alcohol. Morax wrinkles his nose from afar, already dreading the stench he would exude when he returns later.

Morax doesn’t see it, at first. He can pinpoint Barbatos’ general location based on the reaction of the people and when he hops onto benches and tables for some elevation, but he’s partly obscured from his sight most of the time. It’s only as Barbatos makes his way further towards the back of the crowd, closer to where Morax stands, that he notices how else some members of his audience interact with him.

People who take advantage of the general unruliness of a large-scale drinking session in a packed area, hands that touch places past normal boundaries. His thighs, his back, his neck.

Barbatos does not falter, either too immersed in his own performance or too intoxicated to realize and care. Or perhaps he is simply used to this, having been a bard for as long as he’d been a god. Morax does not know.

Fire flares in his stomach the longer he watches, filling his mouth with a bitter taste. It is truly an uncomfortable sight. Intoxication is not consent, nor is silence. Morax could not stand it for long, reaching for the flower crown on his head and tossing it aside before striding toward where Barbatos is lingering within the crowd.

He grabs a person by the wrist and wrenches their hand away from Barbatos, his grip hard enough to make them cry out. Barbatos must’ve heard the commotion, turning at the sound and eyes widening in surprise when he sees Morax right there behind him.

Morax glares at him—a misdirection of his anger, he admits—but he only breaks into a satisfied grin, and finally decides to move his song along. He leaps onto the nearest table, feet stepping delicately between the many glass mugs piled across its surface. His tune reaching a crescendo, his finale presented with flourish.

His audience, quite literally, erupts into cheers and applause.

Barbatos half stumbles down from the table amidst the cacophony of the reception, Morax moving to catch him just as his knees buckle beneath him and he loses his balance. He's trembling, his forehead visibly damp with sweat.

And before Morax can properly help him get back on his feet, he throws up all over his sleeve.

xXx

Barbatos supposes his age must finally be catching up to him.

Or perhaps he’d simply overestimated himself, thinking that participating in the Ludi Harpastum’s all-night drink session wouldn’t be too different from his usual gigs, only with a little more people.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have stepped off the stage in the first place, shouldn’t have danced quite so hard, and should’ve saved the drinking until after his performance ended. The lack of air, the thick haze of human odour mixed with the saccharine scent of alcohol, his own sweeping movements—Barbatos had not expected them to combine into an experience quite so nauseating, even for a god.

He vaguely remembers throwing up once more while Morax carried him somewhere, then a third time in a washroom he didn’t recognize. Then he draws a blank after that.

He stirs to find himself on a bed, his clothes replaced with a set of loose cotton pajamas and his body smelling faintly of floral soap. His head throbs with a dull ache, but he figures he’s seen worse days. More than anything, he feels dehydrated, his lips dry and throat like sandpaper. He braces his palms against the mattress, and slowly pushes himself upright.

He's in a dimly lit room, probably one in an inn not too far off from the venue of the drink fest. He hears the sounds of running water from behind the door opposite the bed; Morax is probably there cleaning up after the mess Barbatos made. There’s a jug on the bedstand, a fresh glass of water already poured out for him. Barbatos’ chest warms as he reaches for it, endeared by how fastidious Morax remains, despite everything.

He returns to lying down a little later, admittedly just a little bitter at how things have turned out. He’s had such an amazing day. He'd always wanted to enjoy a Ludi Harpastum with Morax, making so many empty promises with him over the years to go together one day. A festival of fun and games close to his own heart, it’s a change of pace he always thought Morax could appreciate, since he’s constantly at work. They finally manage this after all these centuries, yet Barbatos just had to be an idiot at the very end.

He rests his arm over his eyes, exhaling a slow breath. He's such an idiot.

The sounds of the shower eventually come to a stop, leaving a ringing sort of silence in their absence. The ruckus of the ongoing party not far off carries all the way to their window; people laughing, cheering, singing. Fireworks bursting in the sky.

He'd wanted to show Morax the fireworks too, damn it.

He lowers his arm and turns when he hears Morax stepping out of the bathroom. He’s wearing a similar set of pajamas as himself, though admittedly it looks so out of place on him that Barbatos almost lets out a snort.

“Hey,” he greets, because he’s genuinely not sure how else he should start. Morax meets his gaze from behind his damp fringe, his face betraying no particular emotion.

“Hey,” he returns, every bit as curt. Barbatos cracks a lopsided smile, and decides there’s no point trying to go around it.

“Listen, Morax, I’m so sorry things ended up like this,” he says, twisting to lie on his side facing him. Morax doesn’t respond to that immediately, and neither does Barbatos see much of a change in his expression.

“Barbatos, how many times do you think I've had to handle your drunk antics over the years?”

Barbatos winces at that. “Now you’re making me feel even worse.”

“You should,” Morax agrees, running a towel over his damp hair. “It’s about time you realize how self-centered and inconsiderate and – “

“Okay, okay, I get it!!” Barbatos interjects before his feelings are actually hurt. “I’m sorry!”

Morax only shoots him a meaningful look and says nothing else, knowing at the end of the day he’d do it all over again anyway. Barbatos supposes he can’t blame him; he’s more aware than anyone that he’s been the way he is for more than a millennium, never once giving even the slightest indication that he would change.

Maybe it’s time he considers, after all that’s happened today, but he decides he’ll mull over that some other time.

His eyes follow Morax as he steps away to hang his towel on a rack, his confusion growing when Morax proceeds to stand rooted in place, frowning slightly and arms crossed as though deep in thought. Barbatos stares at him for a solid couple of minutes before speaking up.

“What are you doing?”

“Thinking about what I should do next,” Morax answers, in all seriousness. Barbatos can’t believe this man is for real. He bursts into laughter, earning himself a puzzled look.

“You really don’t know what ‘rest’ means, do you?” he marvels, then scooting closer against the wall and patting the empty spot before him. “Come here and lie down, we’ve been up and about the entire day. Aren’t you tired?”

Morax’s frown deepens by a fraction. “But I don’t think there’s sp-”

“There’s more than enough space for the both of us!” Barbatos assures, chest light with newfound mirth. Morax really is too much of a gentleman at times. “This bed’s huge!”

Morax remains hesitant for a moment longer, but with just a little more gentle pestering, he relents in the end. “Then, if I may.”

Barbatos watches as he moves to take the space beside him, watches the way his long hair falls over his shoulders, the way the collar of his shirt shifts to reveal the hollow of his throat, a small window of his chest.

Morax fully lies down, and Barbatos realizes there really is just enough space for them to stay still like this. Huh. Has Morax always been such a big person? Or maybe the bed really isn’t that wide to begin with, and whatever alcohol lingering within his system is just messing with his perception of space. Not that it matters at this point. Morax still smells fresh from his shower, his uncharacteristically messy hair and comfortable clothes giving him an air of innocence Barbatos never expected to see on him. Unguarded, youthful. They’re a mere half-arm's length apart, close enough that Barbatos can almost feel his every exhale of breath.

“So how did you find the Ludi Harpastum?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper, perhaps part of him being rather conscious about the little distance between them. Did it live up to the expectations he set for him by constantly inviting him to one over the years, he wonders? Did Morax at least enjoy himself a little with all the festivities? Barbatos noticed he’d mostly followed his lead, trying the many things he’d recommended to him, visiting only the places he brings him. Barely making many choices for himself. It’s too late at this point, yet Barbatos still worries about being overbearing without meaning to. Could Morax really have had fun without as much as a freedom of decision?

“It was...” Morax trails off ominously, pausing to weigh his words while Barbatos braces himself for the continuation. “Different, I suppose.”

“A good different or a bad one?”

“Just different,” Morax affirms. “It certainly feels livelier than the celebrations in Liyue.”

“Then,” Barbatos perks up, a little more hopeful now with the way Morax has responded so far. “What did you like most?”

Morax hums to that, silent in a moment of contemplation. “If I were to choose, I quite enjoyed some of the places we visited.”

He goes on to recall the few locations he’d found a liking to, admiring the history and cultural significance of each that Barbatos had explained to him, the various architectural designs and artistic liberties that define Mondstadt’s trademarks. The motifs of the cobbled streets, the poems framed and hung inside windmills serving as charms for Barbatos’ blessings, even the theme of the patterns carved on many a doorplate—Morax seems to have been quite fascinated by them.

He wears a different expression when he talks about the things that strikes his fancy. A slight upturn of his lips, the faintest crinkles at the corner of his eyes. Even his voice adopts a different tone, laced with a smallest hint of excitement—perhaps even joy, because someone cares to listen.

Barbatos could listen to him like this for an eternity, if he had the chance.

“You’re staring at me,” Morax stops to say at some point, a slight knit across his brow. Barbatos supposes he must be wearing quite the expression, for him to look at him like that. But he could not help it; after all, who wouldn’t be utterly captivated by someone as quietly radiant as this god before him?

“I think I'm in love with you, Morax.”

Are the words that take form, a confession he’s surely taken long enough to make. He no longer even remembers when was the first time it’d dawned him, that his feelings for Morax had progressed into something that wasn’t platonic. How many years has it been since he started seeing him with a different sort of admiration, with the barely suppressible urge of wanting to be closer to him?

Morax blinks at him once, twice. Processing what he’s just heard; understandable, as it really had come out of nowhere.

Then he averts his gaze, reaching to cover his mouth as a wave of red creeps up his entire face.

“Why don’t you tell me that again when you’re sober?” he mumbles into his hand, and Barbatos effectively short-circuits for a moment.

“This is the most sober I’ve been all day, though???”

Morax is adamant, shifting to turn away from him as though to physically end the conversation. “That’s what a drunk person would say. Now stop talking and go back to sleep.”

“No, no, no, isn’t this a little sudden?? Morax??” Barbatos is half laughing now, seeing how desperately Morax is trying to deal with his own embarrassment. It is surprisingly contagious, though; even he’s starting to feel a little shy the longer he badgers him.

“Morax?? Heyyy, Morax? Rex Lapis?”

And yet he refuses to let it stop him. He can see how red Morax’s ears are even from behind him like this. Barbatos pokes at his back, a mix of fondness and mischief welling in his chest when the idea occurs to him.

He squirms forward, closing the little distance between them.

“Zhongli.”

Morax tenses at that, the slightest reaction that Barbatos would’ve missed if he as much as blinked. He's...really cute when he’s like this. Part of Barbatos refuses to believe that this is happening. Morax, the Geo Archon, the honourable Rex Lapis, Adepti Prime—has this absurdly adorable side to him.

“Zhongli,” Barbatos dares to say again, just to see what other sort of response he could elicit from him. “Zhongli.”

He leans out of the way just in time before Morax twists to face him once more, bracing himself for a well-deserved smack—but is instead pulled into a tight embrace.

“You’re so obnoxious,” Morax says, his exasperation obvious even in his quiet tone. Barbatos smiles as he returns the hug with just a much intensity, leaning into their contact with a sigh, a swell of his heart.

Morax is much warmer than he could’ve ever imagined.  

xXx

They say that both the Geo and Anemo Archons are fond of disguising as humans, often descending from their divine residence in Celestia to mingle with the commonfolk of their respective nations.

No one knows what are their preferred appearances, as oftentimes they are indistinguishable from the everyday person. No one knows if they preferred to present as men or women or even children, or if the rumours of them taking human form even hold any truth. After all, who’s to say they wouldn’t choose to appear as an animal, a sprite, or perhaps a fragment of the elements they embody?

Not many in the nations of Liyue and Mondstadt have ever had the chance to see their respective gods, nor to realize that they’ve lain eyes upon them at all. It is something the people have accepted to simply leave up to chance, as there is no point to obsessing over the miniscule possibility of coming face to face with the deity they worship. There are enough mundane things worth paying attention to on the daily; the clarity of the skies, the specials available in the markets, the trees newly bearing fruit.

A particular sight has grown more common as well within the borders of the two neighbouring nations in recent years, one of a pair often spotted strolling together through the busy city streets, the bustling villages, and even the vast wilderness, when the weather is agreeable.

Should one have their stars aligned just right, they may just chance upon a certain bard and gentleman, both usually engrossed in jovial chatter or some lighthearted bickering no matter the location. Oddly out of place sometimes, seeming right at home the rest. Greet them if you wish, and they would usually respond warmly in return. But take heed, at times you may notice their hands linked and fingers intertwined, the pair lost in a world of their own—and that will be your sign to give space, for even gods would appreciate a little time to themselves.

[childishfluff]

Little Kitten- [TommyInnit Pet Regression Oneshot]

Pet Regressor/Kitten!TommyInnit, CGs/Handlers!Wilbur and Tubbo

Tommy liked feeling small. But more then that, he liked feeling like a small kitten. He liked cat ears and playing with balls of yarn, and curling up in a little ball to take a nap. None of this was a problem until Wilbur and Tubbo came to stay at his house for a week, and he had to hide both a littlespace, *and* a kittenspace. And when Tubbo continuously calls him a "kitten" due to his results on a stupid internet "what animal am I" quiz, and Wilbur literally pets him while cuddling, he realizes he wasn't going to last a day. He was simply a little kitten. And now his friends knew that. -- This is non-sexual, sfw age+pet regression, dni if your nsfw/abdl/ageplay/petplay/cgl/ect. If any of the creators included in this work say *anything* about being uncomfy with fan fiction/of agere content including them, I will take this down and/or modify it appropriately. If they have already said something that I'm unaware of, please let me know.

A/N: so I was reading some tommy centric fics and the idea of Catboy!Tommy popped in my head, which eventually evolved into Kitten Regressor!Tommy as I brainstormed and this 4000-something oneshot happened. To my knowledge, there are no other pet regression fics in this fandom, and this is my first pet regression fic. If I misrepresented something, or you just wanna tell me something cool about pet regression in the comments, feel free too lmk in the reblogs/replies/in my ask box after reading!

For those who don't know, pet regression is similar to age regression. Pet Space (kittenspace,puppyspace,ect) is a separate headspace that someone can slip into, where they act like a different critter or creature. It can be used for all the same reasons as agere, and the online communities overlap a ton! You can look into it more, but that's the gist of it! It's nonsexual, safe for minors, and it ISN'T P3TPL@Y! also warning for a very brief mention of kinks and "getting off" (tommy basically saying that he's not into petplay) at the beginning.

--

Tommy liked feeling small. But more then that, he liked feeling like a small kitten.

Figuring this out was confusing for him. Even after discovering why he liked acting like a toddler sometimes, and why it helped him, he had to figure out why he also found comfort in pretending to be an animal. At first, he thought that this cutesy cat-like headspace was just him playing around while little, pretending to be one of his favorite creatures.

But then, he noticed how different his behaviors were when he got like this versus when he was just being a kid. It was really annoying, because he could research anything without stumbling across kinks that he was sure he wasn't into.

Just because the thought of wearing cat ears and curling up in someones lap and being pet softly made him happy, didn't mean he got off on it. Eventually, though, he discovered pet regression.

The pet regression community was overlapped, heavily, with the age regression and age dreaming ones he already secretly took part in. He was shocked he hadn't stumbled across it during his late-night scrollings through the "littlespace" tumblr tags.

Just like when he discovered his littlespace, he bought things online with money saved up from streaming, telling his family it was supplies for a video, and created a secret little box that sat under his bed for whenever he wanted to indulge in that headspace. Choker necklaces that resembled kitty collars, cat ears, certain sensory toys, different snacks.

Now, none of this would be a problem, if it wasn't for the fact that Wilbur and Tubbo coming over to stay at his house for a week while his parents were on vacation. Yes, he had pushed to stay home, preferring that he was babysat by someone he saw as his older brother, instead of being forced to go on a boring trip and go on a forced streaming break.

But he didn't quite think out how he'd pull off not regressing in front of either of the two of his friends, for a whole week. Tommy regressed the most when his parents weren't home, and now he couldn't do that.

All he could do is hope that he wouldn't slip, and that they wouldn't discover either of the two boxes under his bed. He'd quickly find that that was really hard when he had two friends that constantly teased and babied him.

"So, what should we do this week? Besides streaming and gaming, of course," Tubbo questioned from his spot where he laid on Tommy's bed, staring up at the ceiling. Tommy shrugged, spinning a bit in his gaming chair.

His parents had left a few hours ago to catch their flight, after Tubbo and Wilbur were dropped off early that morning. Tubbo had gotten settled, and Wilbur took the responsibility of making them lunch. So now, the two teenagers sat in Tommy's bedroom.

"I don't know. We'll obviously film some videos," Tommy spoke casually, biting the inside of his cheek. All the excitement and anticipation had worn off, and now they were bored. Yeah, they could start a stream or boot up a game, but it felt right to just enjoy each others company. They had sat in silence for a while, their previous conversation falling off when they ran out of things to say, until one of them tried to start another.

Tubbo had gone through a lot of trouble with his parents to be there, doing everything he could to convince them that Wilbur was responsible enough to watch over him for a week. Tommy wasn't just gonna shove a mic in his face and tell him to entertain his twitch viewers.

"I have an idea!" Toby gasped, sitting up suddenly.

"What is it?" Tommy laughed a bit at his sudden realization, and how his friend had replied to it.

"We should take online quizzes together," he suggested. "Hogwarts house, personality type, whatever you want, and compare our results. You in?" he questioned, standing up and coming over to sit in the wooden chair to the left of Tommy's.

For now, the blonde had two of his kitchen chairs in his room, so that the three men could huddle up together at his PC for streams throughout the next week. "Sure," Tommy nodded a bit, booting up his computer.

"We should start with the Hogwarts House quiz, don't ya think?" Tubbo asked, watching him open his browser.

"Sounds good to me," Thomas agreed, following his suggestion and searching up the desired quiz.

After a handful of quizzes, most of which Tommy deemed "inaccurate" due to results that didn't make any sense to him, they took a "what animal are you" quiz. Tommy knew what his results would be, he's taken tests like this a million times.

It'd most likely label him as a cat. He figured that Tubbo would be none the wiser, clicking through the test and answering honestly. He was a little taken aback when the result screen specifically told him that he was a "kitten".

"Aww," Toby cooed in a teasing voice. "I thought that you might've gotten 'cat', but kitten? That's so cute." he laughed a bit.

"It's probably because they just put kitten in place for cat," Tommy scoffed, hoping with every ounce of his soul that he was pulling off the "shocked and annoyed" act, which he hoped covered up his nervousness.

"Let's see," Tubbo took control of the mouse, click on the drop down arrow next to the blue text that read 'All Possible Results'. "See! There is an option for cat, and it called you a kitten!" he cheered, causing Tommy to roll his eyes a bit.

"Whatever," he said, "It said you were a Golden Retriever, so..."

"Tom-Tom's a little kitty!" Tubbo ignored his statement, talking loudly in a sing songy voice. Tommy knew that he wasn't doing this to be mean, and that he was just joking around, but it did hurt a bit. Because he was a kitten sometimes, and it felt like his friend was making fun of it.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about, but the food is ready," Wilbur's voice joined the conversation, the older man suddenly appearing in Tommy's doorway. Tommy jumped to defend himself, but Tubbo got there first.

"We took an online quiz that said Tommy was a kitten! 'Cat' was an option, but it said that he was a little kitty," he laughed again.

"Oh, don't tease him." Wilbur said, "Those tests are crap anyway, I'm sure there was a question you misunderstood or something." he claimed as he came closer to them, standing behind the two chairs as he looked at Tommy's monitor. He could tell that the teasing was making Tommy a bit uncomfortable.

He didn't know why for sure, figuring that it had something to do with being called a 'kitten' feeling to childish for him. "Maybe," Tommy agreed, looking up to Wilbur thankfully. Tubbo must've realized that he accidentally upset Tommy when Wilbur intervened and Tommy immediately seemed relieved, because the next thing he did was apologize.

"I'm sorry, Tommy," he spoke up. "I was just teasing, I didn't mean to upset you."

"It's all good," Tommy smiled a bit, shrugging, feeling a little better with the reassurance that it was all just a joke. "Most of the tests were crap anyways."

The three of them shifted their conversation to other topics, making their way out to the kitchen to eat the food Wilbur made. Later on, they all gathered up blankets and pillows and snacks to watch movies in the living room.

Tommy was a little worried that the Disney movie Wilbur picked would make him go into littlespace, but that seemed to be the least of his worries as they tried to figure out their cuddling positions for the movie. Of course, they didn't need to cuddle, but it seemed that they all silently agreed that they would be.

"I wanna lay down," Tommy whined, re positioning a pillow near one end of the couch.

"Come here, you crybaby," Wilbur ordered, grabbing his arm. Tubbo was curled up to Wilbur's side, one of the older mans arms around him as he settled into the warmth of the embrace.  Wilbur guided him into laying down so that his head was in his lap, a few layers of soft fabric between their skin.

Tommy didn't fight against this, blushing just a bit as he curled up, letting Wilbur lay a blanket over him. "Is this okay?" he asked in a soft voice, looking down as him. Tommy nodded softly, glancing up at him for a moment before he looked away shyly. Why was he so bashful right now?

"Cuddly," he mumbled simply, settling into the position mindlessly. Wilbur seemed pretty amused by this, using his nails to scratch his scalp, the action not unlike how he'd scratch a kitten's head if one curled up in his lap. Again, Tommy didn't protest, leaning into the touch a bit.

Wilbur continued doing things like this as the movie played, sitting back and lightly petting the boy. He'd play with his hair, or run his fingers over his skin in simple patterns. It was just a cute way of showing affection, and the blonde teenager seemed to enjoy.

Meanwhile, Tommy was holding back kittenspace and trying to focus on the childish movie. His petspace was voluntary, to his knowledge. But Wilbur treating him like a cat, giving him the simple affection he's secretly wanted for so long, made him want to regress to the state of a kitty so bad. He was halfway there already.

He just wished that he could put on his little cat ears. He always looked to cute when he did.

His friends did notice that he stayed very quiet throughout the movie, not really replying to their joked or adding onto their commentary of the movie. They didn't say anything, though, assuming that he was just sleepy earlier than usual, joking amongst themselves as the plot of the movie played out on the screen.

At one point near the end of the movie, Wilbur reached over and scratched the patch of hair closest to Tommy's ear, earning a hum from him. It sounded much closer to a kitten's pur, which shocked Wilbur. He looked over to Tubbo, leaning close to him and whispering, "He really is a little kitten, huh?" as he continued to scratch his scalp.

Toby giggled a bit, nodding in agreement. Tommy seemed to suddenly realize what he was doing when Wilbur pulled his hand away for the time being, cutting out his low hum and burying his now-red face in the blankets across Wilbur's lap.

Wilbur could help but think about how cute he looked doing that, immediately feeling the need to cuddle the boy close and protect him.

Eventually the credits started rolling, and Wilbur told the boys to get off of him. Tubbo did it with little complaining, stretching a bit and standing up with a yawn. Tommy, however, completely lost in his kitten space as this point, whined, pouting.

"I know you're comfy, and probably sleepy, but it's time to get up, Toms." Wilbur told him, fighting against the urge to just push him off the couch. Yes, it'd be funny, but it'd also be mean. Wilbur didn't wanna upset him.

When Tommy didn't reply, remaining curled up with his head in Wilbur's lap, the pet his head softly once again, pushing back the blanket that laid over him a bit. Immediately, Tommy switched his position so that he was laying on his back, swiping his hand at Wilbur's, scratching him a bit.

Like a playful kitten.

Wilbur gasped, seemingly confused as he tilted his head. He dropped the blanket, pulling the attacked hand to his chest defensively. Tommy didn't hurt him all the much but he did just try to scratch him in response to his blanket be taken away. It was funny, and cute, but also confusing. "Ouch! Why'd you do that?" Wilbur asked, pulling his hand away immediately.

Tommy pouted up at him, not knowing exactly how to verbally apologize. He decided on his next actions, rolling over so that he was on his stomach and stretching out. He then adjusted himself so that he was on his knees and hands, looking at Wilbur with a slight head tilt.

There was still a clear pout on his face, his eyes innocent and cute. "What are you doing?" Wilbur chuckled, not understanding his behavior. He couldn't blame all these absolutely adorable actions on being sleepy, surely. He was acting like a kitten, undeniably.

"He's a kitten!" Tubbo said, coming closer to him and scratching Tommy's head. Tommy nuzzled into his hand as he leaned into the touch. "Pet regression," he remembered the name for it, saying it suddenly a few moments later. "I thought Tommy might've been a little but I didn't know about this."

"What?" Wilbur questioned, only more confused than before.

"I think Tommy's an age regressor, and a pet regressor, too, apparently," Tubbo looked to Tommy for some sort of confirmation. Tommy nodded a bit, shyly, confirming both of his guesses. "He can revert back to the state of a child, and also a kitten! He's in a cat-like headspace, so he's going to act like a baby kitty." Tubbo giggled, wiggling his fingers over Tommy's head and watching as he swatted at it. Toby pulled his hand away at the last second.

"I researched age regression because Tommy was acting a bit childish during a late night call a while back, and came across petre too," Tubbo added. "I was planning on asking him about the little thing while I was here, actually."

Tommy didn't know that Tubbo already knew. If anyone could've guessed, it would've been him. They were best friends. He'd call him a lot when upset, or stressed, to talk about what was bothering him. It wasn't a shock that the main person who saw him when he needed something to help him feel better had started to pick up on the traits that hinted toward the coping skill he used to feel better.

Wilbur seemed to understand. For whatever reason, Tommy liked acting like a cat. It was a sort of headspace that he could get into, that Wilbur must've accidentally triggered. Tubbo continued to play with and pet Tommy, explaining the basics of both age regression and pet regression to Wilbur.

"They can both be done for coping, voluntarily or involuntarily. It seems that all the cuddling and petting made him slip. I think he's nonverbal, too, at least as a kitten," Tubbo said, running his fingers through Tommy's hair. At some point, Tommy had sat down, still playing along and swiping at his hands here and there. Tubbo seemed so excited to play with him, and that made him happy!

"Agere and petre can intersect, too. So he might just act childlike with kitten-qualities mixed in," Tubbo continued to explained. "There's also pet gear and little gear, stuff you use when you get into those headspaces. Do you have any of that, kitty?"

Tommy nodded a bit, reaching over and pressing on Wilbur's shoulder, as if telling him to follow as he stood up. He didn't like traveling on all fours all the time in kittenspace, and would only crawl short distances. Otherwise, he would just walk like he would usually. Maybe skip, if he was in a good mood.

Wilbur followed his nonverbal request, following the two teenagers to Thomas's bedroom. Tommy dropped to the floor next to his bed, Tubbo following suit. Tommy pulled out one of the boxes, Toby grabbing the other. "So what is pet and little gear for?" Wilbur asked, curiously.

"I'm sure Tommy will be willing to tell you more when he's up to talking," Tubbo's words earned a slight nod as the regressor opened the box. "But it's basically stuff to help you according to the headspace your in. Comfort items, childish things for littlespace, stuff to make you feel more like a pet for petre."

"Like cat ears or collars for kittyspace!" he added with a chuckle as Tommy pulled those items out of the box, waving them around as an example. His cat ears were all on headbands. He had white and orange ones, black ones with little ribbons, another set with little bells, he didn't know which ones he wanted.

Tubbo realized that his box was little gear, sliding it back under the bed and focusing on Tommy, who seemed happy.

He bounced in place a bit, very excited and playful now, despite being sleepy before. He was happy! When Tubbo believed that his friend might've been different, instead of judging him, he researched a ton and then jumped in to help him when he needed it. And Wilbur, who didn't completely understand what was happening, was still being supportive, just asking questions.

He thought that they were gonna weird about it, or judge him. But here Tubbo was, playing with him and answering questions for him because he understood his nonverbalism. "When will he be....not a cat, anymore?" Wilbur pondered.

"Depends. Regression can last a few minutes to a few days, who knows. But while he's like this, we should make him comfortable, don't ya think?"

Wilbur hummed a bit. He could ask more questions later, directly to his friend that actually experienced this stuff and would be able to tell him more. For now, he'd do his best to make Tommy comfortable, like Toby had said.

Tommy grabbed the cat ears with the bells, white furred ones with pink inside the ear, little pink bows and gold bells on them. He shook it in his hand, like a rattle, listening to the music it made. He made a squeak that sounded suspiciously like a "meow", before giggling. "Did you cat those ears, Tommy?" Wilbur asked, softly taking the headband from him.

Tommy pouted, nodding as the ears were taken from his very pa- hands. He wasn't actually a kitten, he had human hands. He giggled at his own thoughts, snapping out of it when he felt the headband slip onto his head. Wilbur adjusted it.

"There." he stopped after a second, looking him up and down. "You're adorable," he complimented. Tommy blushed, smiling. He looked back down to the box, pulling out a white choker, which had another pink ribbon in the front, with a larger, silver bell hanging from it. He immediately put it on, fiddling with the bell.

"Did you wanna change? There's some clothes in that box," Tubbo asked. As expected, Tommy didn't verbally reply, digging through his box and pulling out a white adult onesie, designed to resemble a real baby one. It was plain, with pink lining, obviously picked out to go with the choker and cat ears.

"Aww," Wilbur cooed, immediately. "You want the onesie, sweetheart?"

Tommy nodded a bit, also grabbing pastel pink shortalls. He might've been happy, and seemingly comfortable, but he was not walking around in just a onesie. "That'll look cute together," Tubbo approved of his outfit choice. Tommy grabbed a few more things from the box, either setting it in a pile, or holding it in his arms.

He left to go to the bathroom, pushing the box back under the bed and leaving without another word. "What all did he pull out?" Tubbo asked, looking to the pile with curiosity.

"A stuffed kitten," Wilbur stated, looking at the white stuffed toy. "It seems that he dressed up to look like this toy," he chuckled. Tubbo laughed, too. "Uh, there's a ball of yarn, and a little white ball?" he sounded curious, picking it up. Quickly, Wilbur realized that it rattled.

"Oh, he likes things that make sounds," Tubbo reasoned. "Rattles and bells. That's cute," Tubbo smiled. "Anything else?"

"Yeah, a pink scarf." Wilbur replied. "Does he just play with anything?" he laughed.

"Isn't that what actual cats do? They scratch at and play with anything in sight," Tubbo joked.

"Fair enough."

They kept talking until they heard shuffling by the door. There, stood Tommy, clad in his cute little, perfectly planned-out outfit. Just his presence earned coos from his friends, who immediately complimented him. "You look so adorable, kitten!" Wilbur said, motioning him over. Tommy approached them, dropping to his knees and hands when he got close to them, 'pouncing' across the carpet.

He giggled, returning to his previous sitting position next to his pile, grabbing the stuffed kitty. "You look just like your toy, y'know." Tubbo told him. Tommy smiled wide, as if he was proud of this fact, nodding quickly. He wore knee-high socks with his out, white and pink striped to match the rest of the outfit. It seemed he took pride in color-coordinated, cute outfits, unlike when he was in his usual headspace. He usually just threw on a baseball shirt and jeans.

"She kitty, and m' kitty too," he mumbled, speaking for the first time since entering his kitten space earlier that day. He didn't talk much in kittenspace, he always had to pull himself into an "in-between" headspace to do so, but he could if he wanted or had to.

"Aww, the kitty can talk. Yes, you are both very adorable kittens," Wilbur cooed from his spot next to the regressor, wrapping his arms around him. Tommy melted into the embrace, nuzzling the side of his face into the part of Wilbur closest to him, his arm.

Tubbo didn't interrupt their moment, waiting for one of them to speak. After a bit of silent cuddling, Wilbur spoke up. "How about we all move back to the living room and set up a little play area for you, yeah? I'll turn on some cartoon, and make some snacks, and we can have fun until bedtime. Does that sound nice, kitty?"

He swayed in place a bit, moving Tommy with him. Tommy nodded excitedly. "Snuggles," he mumbled when Wilbur pulled away from their hug, pouting. "Snuggle me! M' a cute kitty!" he giggled, pointing to himself. He scrunched his nose a bit.

Tubbo and Wilbur knew that the boy was very different off camera. Sometimes, he was still loud, and cursed a lot, but others, he was chill. And apparently, he could be soft sometimes, too.

"I have no doubt about that," Wilbur chuckled, tapping the button of his nose with his index finger, Tommy swatted at it, a bit confused on what to do next when he successfully got ahold of his finger. He put his other 'paw' around it too, dragging his hand to his mouth and biting on his finger.

Wilbur pulled back his hand quickly, shocked. "Bad kitten! We don't bite," he scolded, tapping his head lightly with his hand. Not enough to hurt him, but enough to let him know that he wasn't supposed to do what he just did. Tommy pouted again, his eyes immediately glossing over.

Again, he felt like he couldn't verbally apologize, to upset to pull himself out of headspace enough to talk. This frustrated him and only upset him more. He took the hand he had bit by the wrist, nuzzling his hand into it.

The main difference between Tommy in kittenspace and a real kitten is that he still had, at the very least, a child's level of emotional intelligence. Which meant that he was able to tell when people were upset with him. And he didn't like it when someone was upset with him.

He didn't have kitty teeth! Which meant that his bites hurt a lot more then a kitten's, he reasoned mentally. Wilbur was upset because he hurt him. Cuddles would make it all better, because cuddles made all boo-boos better, he decided.

"Oh, you're okay, baby," Wilbur assured, scratching at his scalp and playing with his hair again. "You didn't really hurt me," he said, as if he was able to read his mind. "You don't need to cry, little kitty."

Tommy kept nuzzling his hand, blinking away his unshed tears. Tubbo leaned close to Wilbur, whispering into his ear.

"Call him a good kitten."

Wilbur nodded, figuring that that made sense. Wilbur had reassured Tommy in every other sense, but he was still guilty. There was a good chance that his emotional response was to the term "bad kitten!".

"You're such a sweet, good kitten."

As predicted, his head perked up at that. He tilted his head, as if to ask 'really?'. "A very adorable, sweet baby kitten," Wilbur ran his fingers through Tommy's hair, his words and affection earning a smile from the pet regressor. "Let's gather up these toys and go set up in the living room, kay? Is there anything else that you need?"

Tommy nodded shyly, crawling over to the edge of his bed and pulling out the little box. He located a light pink plastic item, holding it up. "No more bitin'," he said, slipping the adult pacifier into his mouth. It only added to the childish look.

Wilbur and Tubbo smiled at him. Wilbur was glad that he picked the right cuddling position that somehow led to this, and Toby was glad that he did all that research over the past few weeks. And they were all glad they had planned this one week meet up.

They moved out to the living room, where they played and watched cartoons late into the night. The following morning, Tommy thanked the two of them for everything, and they had an honest conversation about it, telling them everything. How long he had been regressing, both for little and kitten space, how often he did it, when he got all the little and kitten gear.

Wilbur and Tubbo asked a ton of questions, and Tommy answered every single one. Over the next week, between streams and video-filming, Tommy would regress and let his friends learn more about little him, and kitty him. Who Wilbur and Tubbo started calling 'Tom-Tom', by the way.

Eventually, Wilbur would become Tommy's caregiver and handler, after babysitting him over discord calls many, many times. All thanks to that one week visit.

Tommy was so glad he ended up slipping that night, even if it was inconvenient at first. Everything worked out in the end, and he wouldn't change the events of that night if he could.  

It all led to him being Wilbur's 'good kitten'.

--

A/N: let me know if you have requests for any agere/age dreaming/pet regression fics involving some of the DreamSMP members, lmk! I may not write it, due to not knowing to much about a specific youtuber or being uncomfy w/the prompt, but I always love hearing ideas! Please leave feedback/your thoughts on this in the reblogs/replies/my ask box too, I definitely would like to hear them! I hope y'all enjoyed, I spent a while writing this and I hope it makes *someone* happy!

-Apple

[vinylhazza]

Can you write a lil thing about confiding in your best friend (either twin) about your abusive relationship and then he helps you leave and shows you real love. I'm in a abusive relationship atm and I wish I had it :(

LEAVE HIM FOR ME (G.D)

warning: mention of physical abuse, trauma, mention of sexual abuse, angst, fluff

*italics are flashbacks/past conversations*

grayson would have been trying for so long to figure out where the bruises were coming from. he stopped at nothing to try and pry the information out of you until he finally started to back up after you got angry at him one evening for not letting it go.

“just let it the fuck go grayson, i fell. i told you that.” or “yeah straightener is a bitch you know? you’re not a girl you wouldn’t understand gray, i’m okay.”

you knew he was trying to help, but feared that giving them the knowledge would only make it worse. your jackass of a boyfriend was dangerous, you knew it even if he didn’t. he could hurt him, and that was the last thing on earth you would ever want - for grayson to be hurt. you would get teary eyes and a flustered blush when he noticed your frown at the mention of the bastards name. it was like a shock to your system. with grayson...everything was different. you weren’t weak. you weren’t some piece of meat that could be abused and used whenever he pleased. you weren’t a derogatory name that seemed to define you.

he kept you safe. he kept you warm when you shivered. he made sure you ate when he notices you haven’t touched a single piece of food all day, takes e time to cook your favorite meal of all. he would care for you, wait on your every hand and foot when you felt ill, make that special soup his ma taught him when he was younger, he knows how much it helps. he braids your hair to help you calm down, and he’s actually very good at it. something about the tenderness and care he gives you when he’s messing with your hair immediately eases your stress, and you don’t know it, but he has a small smile the entire time.

God that man would love the fuck out of you, just waiting in the shadows for you to see that he was right there, waiting to give you all the love that he could give. Grayson’s love language was physical touching, he loved to have his hair played with, back scratches, hugs that last too long, having your legs propped up over his lap as you watch a netflix special. he often watches you close in those moments, running his own fingers through your hair, deep slow massages, and sometimes....he even leaned in for a kiss on your cheek, your forehead, and when he was especially clingy, your neck. you didn’t think anything of, even tried to ignore the fluttering in your stomach - the butterflies swirling around like a tornadoe. and you especially ignore the clenching in your lower region, trying to convince yourself it’s not him in particular but the lack of affectionate touches you never receive from your boyfriend.

deep down, you know your heart tells you different. but you aren’t a cheater and how could you leave? you know he would come after you, after your family, after grayson, even after ethan if he’s as crazy as you thought he was.

the first time he hit you, was the first night he ever yelled at you as well. it had been sudden, out of nowhere, shocking. he was...not right that day. he was irritable, not really speaking to you all that much...just quite frankly being a dick. your love language is physical touch just like graysons, but...not that kind. you had just wanted to hug him, maybe give him a reassuring squeeze to let him know you were there to help him and be there for him through whatever it was he was struggling with. you know how hard it is to be in your own head and have no one to share your pain with.

but his hand slapping into like a tidal wave prevented that from ever happening.

“what the fuck is wrong with you?! can’t you see i want to be left the fuck alone?! are you fucking dumb?! get out!”

you spent the whole night crying, curled up on the couch with a blanket wrapped around you tight, a bag of frozen peas pressed up against your right cheek. in the morning when you woke up with a groan, you stumbled into the bathroom to find a black and blue bruise right along your cheek bone - a hateful looking mark. this...this wasn’t love.

“such a slutty, dumb little bitch. thinking you can wear that out and strut around like a whore? then i’ll treat you like a whore.”

he never apologized and the violence never stopped. the punches became more frequent, and it was getting so hard for you to hide them that you began making excuses: falling, fluke accidents that sometimes made no sense, dropping something, bumping into things. but everytime you made up a lie, it took a piece of you away. a piece of you that you felt would always in some way be connected to him. to his viscous words, actions, and those little moments that kept convincing you to stay.

you stayed for the rare moments he would smile, the times that would remind you of the man you fell for - the one that didn’t exist anymore. you knew you were foolish and anyone with a brain could see right through your stupid lies and excuses, but you simply avoided talking about him. he made you think it’s what you deserved. and after a while you believed it.

you stopped being sexually attracted to him in the very beginning, when the hitting first began...but he...he was a man of selfish desire. take what he wants and be on his way, keep treating you like dirt, keep kicking you while he knew you had no fighting chance. he took advantage of your body, used you like a toy and threw you away. made you think it was a yes even when you screamed no. a hand over your mouth, his tongue down your throat, you didn’t have a choice.

grayson knew it all along. he knew the bastard hit you. he knew the disgusting filth of a man you would go ‘home’ to. he knew it wasn’t your true home. your home was him. your home was grayson. but you had to keep him safe, hence the reason you never admitted to the consistent mental, physical, and sexual abuse. but grayson refused to do nothing, stand by and watch the women he loved suffer all alone, determined to be your knight in shining armor, save you from the villain trying to ruin your beautiful life so full of purpose.

“what am i supposed to do e? he’s hurting her, like really hurting her. the bruise on her neck isn’t a fucking burn it looks like a goddamn hand was choking her to death. what am i supposed to do? tell me what to do.”

Distraught was an understatement when it came to a teary eyed grayson sitting at the foot of his brothers bed. you had left after a movie night, having to lie to your boyfriend and tell him you were at a girlfriends house, you’ve already been beat up for even mentioning graysons name. you would never make that mistake again.

ethan sat straight up against his headboard, pulling at the stubble on his chin, brow furrowed with a concerned, and angry, scowl.

“the asshole thinks he can just get away with hurting her because she sits there and takes it...it’s killing me. God how did she get herself into this mess...i just feel...useless. i’m supposed to protect her e, that’s what you do for the people you love and i fucking fail her over and over again everyone i let her walk out the front door of this house,” grayson grumbled, leaning over the bed with his head in his hands. his shoulders were tensing, something that usually happens when he’s especially stressed or upset about something.

“i’m sure ‘taking it’ isn’t exactly what she’s doing. she’s scared. he’s a big guy gray, a dangerous guy, he can really do damage to her if she tries to fight him back,” ethan mutters, not wanting to make his brother more upset. it didn’t seem to be working, “you know this isn’t her fault and so do i gray. a man like that will stop at nothing to control her every move. it’s an act of dominance, control, he wants to rule every action, every thought, every move she might make. if we do anything, we need to do it fast, and do it in a clever way that won’t get her fucking killed by that psychopath.

“it’s just impossible to sit here and have her flinch when i try to touch her...i would never fucking hurt her. i never have. and i know it’s so hard for her to trust anyone with all of the shit she has to deal with...but God dammit i would move heaven and hell for that girl and i need to save her,” grayson sits up, a noticeable tear streaming down his face. his love was evident in his every word, “i’ll take my time. make her see she deserves better. whatever the fuck she needs to convince her to leave that dumbfuck, i’ll do it. i just need help e, that’s all i’m asking.”

“of course gray, you know i got your back. and i have y/n’s too. we are gonna get her away from that creep and show her what real love is. not that fake disgusting shit he claims it is. doesn’t even know what the fuck it means and he has no business using that word frankly.” ethan’s tone is clipped, sharp, and deep - he would do whatever he could to get away just like grayson would. granted he’s not in love with you, but he doesn’t have love for you, and he would still do anything to protect you, “but be patient with her. a guy like that stops at nothing to tear down a woman until she thinks she deserves what’s coming to her. she accepts the pain because she is trained to live in silence. we need to break that silence and make sure that she knows it’s okay to tell us and we would never put her in danger.”

there is silence for a moment, full of tension, worry, for their friend. graysons worries if he speaks, he might cry. instead he ops for bouncing his knee in a steady rhythm, something you taught him to do when he felt restless. and it helps. but with a deep breath he’s turning back to ethan.

“okay so, how do we do it?” grayson stands, ready to take on whatever it is to get her in his arms safe and sound. even if that means hurting her jackass of a boyfriend. hopefully soon to be ex, he thought.

“well, i think maybe tricking her into a little intervention is the only way to go about it. or maybe one of us can convince her to spill the beans. it might be too much on her if we both start hounding her with questions she’s scared to answer. i’m sure some of them are very personal. we can’t freak her out, she’s already so fragile.” grayson knew he was right. he needs to proceed with caution. maybe if he could convince her he’s who she belongs with...confesses to his desires and wishes maybe she would have the strength to leave. if that’s even what she wanted. if not it would ruin their friendship and she would still be in a bad situation.

“true...if we go to their apartment fists up and ready to fight, it will probably make it worse and fall back on her. she’s doesn’t need any more problems than she already has. i mean hell, she’s even scared to sleep anymore,” grayson ponders. he remembers the nights she would stay over when her boyfriend was away gallivanting with whatever floosy he could find. cheating abusive bastard that he was. then it dawned on him.

“what if, and hear me out, what if we just move her out and have her live with us? i mean the guy doesn’t know where we live and fuck it i’ll get security if i have to. we’ve been needing it for a while anyway. she would be safe, protected, and with her closest friends who wouldn’t let a damn thing happen to her,” grayson tried to explain himself, gauging ethans reaction to see if he had a disapproving face.

to his surprise, he didn’t. in fact, it was like a lightbulb clicked inside of his head. with a clap of his hands he’s standing.

“that’s actually a great idea. i don’t know when he leaves or whatever the dumbfuck does but when he does we can go over there and get all of her stuff out and move her in here. we just have to make sure we know when he leaves, when he comes back, and most importantly if she will even say yes.”

it was three days after when you finally stopped by. the bruises on the left side of your neck and cheekbone fading away. graysons heart broke every time he saw the purplish hue on your face. he would kill him if he could. he would do whatever it took to keep you safe. he just had to do it like a civilized human being. he knew that at least if you’re on his property and your stupid bitch if a boyfriend came by...well let’s just say he wouldn’t be so forgiving.

he pulled you into the backyard with the sun just sinking under the horizon. he wondered how you managed to sneak away without a scratch, but hopefully it would be the last time you had to.

“i need to talk to you about something,” grayson started, pulling at your hand to bring you further into the backyard, standing in the grass just beside the pool. he was nervous, palms sweating already. this was a big moment, and it could change everything for them.

“is it about the last piece of banana bread? cause i ate that like a week ago and if you just now noticed maybe you don’t really love it like you claim you-“ you started, teasing him with a smile. always the jokester. he wondered how you found the strength the smile. but he cut you off before you could finish. his frown had your smile wilting.

“i know he’s hitting you. don’t try and hide it either like you always do. you always try and cover up his abuse and his fucking disgusting behavior. and i understand you’re scared, y/n. but this ends now. i don’t care what i have to do to make you see you deserve better but this...this isn’t it. you have so much to give and deserve someone that would burn the whole fucking world down to keep you safe. so stop pretending and tell me the truth.” there it was. that face he was dreading. the face of absolute terror.

he knew. he fucking knew.

you thought you had been good at hiding it from him, from everyone really. even your mother loved your boyfriend. she often said he was “good for you” that she was happy you found him when you did because “he’s the only one that’s really ever gotten you under control”. you haven’t talked to her in months, to say the least.

grayson recieves a chest rattling silence. something he wasn’t expecting from a girl that was known for word vomit and stuttering all over herself trying to get a thought out fast enough before it slipped away. but you stared at him with wide, misty eyes. you were scared - frozen in his backyard. you couldn’t believe he had come right out and called you on your bullshit. but you knew it was coming, you tried your hardest to hide it, but grayson wasn’t stupid.

with a slow shake of your head, you swallow the tears threatening to escape your eyes. you won’t be weak in front of grayson. you spent so much time being weak because of him, but no, not in front of grayson. he deserved better than someone that couldn’t even escape a white boy she fell for after a run in at the movie theater. he deserves someone that can fight for herself.

“so you know. you and ethan i’m assuming?”

a nod with more silence. he is watching you, not exactly staring, but certainly focused on watching you try and hold yourself together. you know ethan is somewhere close by, watching this go down from his own little hide out. you’re half tempted to yell out to the house and tell him to get the hell out there and face you, but then you know you’d have to confess the truth in front of not one, but two of the most important people in your life.

“...what then? you want me to sit here and cry? you want me to break down and talk to you about all the times i’ve come over here and lied? pretending everything was okay and putting a smile on my face? because believe it or not this is my safe place and i’d rather not think of him. you make me forget. i just wanted to forget and i know that hurts you that i didn’t say anything but i don’t know what i’m supposed to do right now gray...” your voice is thick with emotion, hands coming up to twist at the flowy tank top resting on your torso. it suddently became very chilly in the backyard that felt previously warm in the suns dying moments until morning.

“i’m not letting this go. not like all those times before. i had my suspicions, had those little clues that would pop out when i reached to tuck your hair out of your face, or help you with the laundry you still do even when you don’t have to. you would jump, y/n...from me. and i would never,” he swallows, you can feel all the strength it’s taking him not to show you just how much he wants to cry, “i would never, hurt you. there isn’t a bone in my body that would ever touch you in any way other than love and adoration. i know it’s because of him. he’s - he’s fucking sick, y/n. he’s twisted and made it almost impossible for you to live a normal life. you snuck over here didn’t you? it’s nearly 8.” you know he won’t let it go until you answer, so you give him another small nod, biting at your bottom lip and flinching at the tear that drops down onto your cheek. it would wash away that pathetic layer of concealer you put on, exposing more of the purplish bruise he left there.

“where is he? let me guess - he said he was going to “tanners” right?” his voice remains calm, with just a hint of a grit there to show how truly disgusted he was by the man that abused you time and time again.

another nod and small sniffle.

you felt like a child getting caught by your parents for sneaking out.

you and grayson both knew there was no tanner. there was and never would be. it was just another girl he decided to fuck around with before coming back to control you, make you feel like the disloyal one. make you feel like the monster.

“and what happens when he comes back and you’re not there huh? what happens if he comes back early and wants you to text him a picture of where you are? actually fuck that have you even thought that maybe the psychopath put a tracker on your phone? ...why are you back away? hey hey come here it’s okay i’m not mad at you,” grayson is trailing off into an apology when he notices the distance beginning to grow between your two bodies. he was near yelling at the end of his little speech and you’ve learned enough to know what yelling means. of course he said he wouldn’t hurt you, but that’s exactly what he said in the beginning too. and look where you are now.

before you can back away from his touch any further, he’s tugging you into a hug, cradling the back of your head against his chest. his heart beat was steady, the calm thumping easing your own nerves. he never held you like this. grayson wasn’t him. it was unfair to be afraid of everyone because someone tried to stifle your fire. with your body tucked into his arms, grayson rocks side to side on the bottom of his shoes, eyes closed and chin resting on the top of your head. you liked to be held when you’re upset and overwhelmed and he knew it. it helped ground you.

he’s pulling away too soon, swiping a hand through his hair in frustration. you know it’s hard for grayson to express his emotions sometimes. giving him the same patience he gives you is the least you could do. you stand quietly in front of the tall block of muscle, arms crossed once again - a comfort mechanism you’ve taken up over the past few months - and wait for him to sort his thoughts out and try again.

“i didn’t mean to yell but dammit, y/n. i mean it when i say you can trust me. i know he’s ruined so many things but this - us - isn’t going to be one of them. he doesn’t get the satisfaction of pushing us apart. you -“ a huff “you’re too...special to let go. and it’s his own fault he can’t see it.” from the dead serious look in his hazel eyes, you know he means every word.

you wouldn’t say grayson is entirely closed off, especially when he’s always touching you in secret, tender ways when no one else is looking. he tells you secrets he’s scared to tell anyone else. he’s not a secret. he’s just in some way...scared just like you.

“gray i don’t know what to tell you...it’s not as easy as you’re making it seem. and yeah he has ways of tracking me i’m sure, but i can’t just go without you you idiot. that would kill me. it would fucking break me and i hate that you’re making me admit it.” he frowns at the break in your voice.

“leave him,” graysons voice is soft, but more serious than you’ve ever heard it. so deep rooted with...something you can’t quite catch...that it makes you shiver.

“gray...”

it’s not that simple. you can’t leave a man that has his grip on you too tight. you can’t just leave a man that has made it his goal to make sure it never happens. you can’t just leave because you wish to be with the love of your life...you can’t just...want love when you’re trapped with no hope of escape. especially when that very same person whose love you yearn for is promising it to you, unknowing of the sure consequence.

he doesn’t give you a chance to turn him down, say anything more that will certainly be a way to weasel yourself out of this. he knows you’re in denial, denial of what there is blossoming between you, the bod consuming desire to always be touching whenever you are together - whether it be a pinky hooked around another, an arm over your shoulder, an arm around his waist, fingers massaging at your scalp. whatever it was, it was real.

“might i make a suggestion gray?” ethan frowns, biting at the skin of his bottom lip, now raw with his anxious assault.

“whatever it is make it good because i’m not changing my mind,” grayson grunted, slicing his bananas at a quicker pace. he’d have to build up strength for this conversation, lord knows it’s going to tire him out. you’re a tough one to crack. another reason that he fucking loved you so much.

“tell her how you feel before it’s too late. i’m sure you’ll be pleased with the outcome.”

how could he be so sure?

fire twists in your tummy as grayson inches towards you, eyes narrowed right at your own misty orbs. with irises blown out and black, he tucks that cussed piece of hair behind your ear. with his fingers feathering across the skin of your cheekbone, another tear drops to your cheek. it streaks a hot river across the skin, chipping away that milky concealer, a mask to hide the evil. the way he gazed at you like you were and always would be the most beautiful treasure, only made you confirm to yourself that it was torture to love someone you were scared to have.

“i know you feel this...don’t fight it...just let me show you how good this can feel...how it’s supposed to feel” his voice had switched from one of raw emotion to one of earnest and...need.

within an instant he is grabbing your face and pulling you close by the back of your neck, a hand digging deeply into your mane of hair. he made a fist to secure you to him, afraid if he let go you might disappear. another hand was pressed against your cheek - being careful to not apply direct pressure to your bruise, instead rubbing it tenderly with his thumb. his touch not only eased the pain, but the memories that matched themselves to it. soft plump lips landed on yours perfectly with a hum resonating in his chest. it was a pathetic, needy sound - one that made you aware that he really meant it. he’s been waiting for this. to have your lips smashed up against his. it was like an itch he’s been waiting to scratch, now relieved. he takes his time to let himself feel his way through the kiss - initially feeling your shocked lips at a stand still.

he almost backs away in defeat, but then... you’re sighing, a satisfied, eager sigh tossed between the two of you. biting at his bottom lip felt like a burst of unashamed power coursing through your veins. your tiny nimble fingers are tugging at his white cotton t-shirt and pulling him even closer if possible, goose flesh tracking from your shoulders down to your fingertips. youve kissed let that be known, a guy here or there, but none of those kisses had ever felt like this. before registering how much trouble you would get in if he ever found out what you were doing and how good it felt doing it, you are tilting your head to the side and moving your lips against his greedily. humming into his mouth and pushing your front against his flat. fuck his kiss felt so good. his lips were patient and languid, lapping like smooth waves of the ocean. persistent.

his hands made sure to move your face just the right way, get just the right angle, sure he could feel you turning weak at the knees already. not anything like any other kiss you’ve been given. it’s patient, tender, purposeful - that purpose being to convey just how much you mean to him and always will mean. the way he’s kissing you is a desperate move to tell you how he feels without having to say it just yet. this is everything you’ve ever wanted but never knew you could have, or feel, or want.

his tongue is slipping into your mouth when you gasp in shock at the electric fire burning through your senses and into every nerve in your body. your hands feel tiny on his massive biceps, but he loves the feeling of your thumbs rubbing at his skin while he kisses you so deep. your tongues danced together, the kiss stealing your breath away. it was fierce and passionate, everything you thought kissing him would be like. you had daydreamed about this moment forever, and you couldn’t believe it was finally happening. especially not like this. not when you’re a damsel in distress, waving your pathetic hand at the top of the tower in hopes your knight in shining armor would come and save you. the day had finally come.

he’s pulling away slowly, begrudgingly, panting from working his mouth so hard against yours. wanting to take it farther than a kiss, but understanding enough to know it would take a lot more time to be at that poin - no matter how bad you both wanted it. your trauma lurked beneath the surface, a fight for another day. he poured everything into that kiss. the rosy red color of his skin being a testament to that. he hoped you knew just how much it meant to him. from the way you stared at his mouth in a trance, he knew it meant just as much to you. the look of wanting in your eyes made him shiver.

“you want me?”

the best you give him is a puffed out “yes” between your lips, staring at his own longingly. it was a pathetic sound, a cringe fighting to shrink in your shoulders and hide yourself from him, but you accepted it as it came. you wanted more. you thought for a split second that you couldn’t imagine never feeling that again. electric. strong. like fireworks igniting in your body over and over. your eyes travel slowly from his mouth to his soft wishful eyes, feeling the sudden urge to cry again.

“leave him for me,” his whisper is pained, vulnerable and aching for you to want him back. need him back. love him back.

“but i can’t have you, you know i can’t. he won’t allow me to leave him.” God it killed you to even say it. You wanted to throw caution to the wind, and in a way you had, but to throw it all out would mean putting him in the line of fire - and you didn’t know if you could bare seeing him burnt.

“yes you can, you can have me. every hour of everyday. you can fucking have me. you have always had me, y/n. i think you know that. i can’t lie anymore. not when it means this much to me. he won’t keep you a prisoner. i refuse for it to happen. i know you want this as much as i do. i feel it. i’ve always felt it. if you don’t leave for you, then leave for me. just...you have to let me protect you.”

the way he says it, just holding you in place, forehead resting against yours in an attempt to stop the tears bubbling behind his eyes. it killed him to see you caged like an animal when you wanted so badly to be free. he would do whatever the fuck he needed to do and he swore his life on it. whether you believed it or not.

“but how? he’s a psycho grayson the man beat me for getting gas without telling him. i was gone for 5 minutes.“

“i know sh, i know it sounds crazy and reckless,”

“really reckless,” you tutted, popping your lips out in a dissatisfied pout. it was cute but he needed to focus.

“- just hear me out. me and ethan have a plan that involves no contact, and if he does show up i don’t think you are underestimating the lengths we will go to, to make sure he doesn’t lay a finger on this beautiful body of yours. he doesn’t get to have you anymore, he abused that privilege, literally. he didn’t appreciate and cherish what he had so now it’s over. you won’t ever have to see him again. but it’s gonna take a little cooperation and for you to be that sneaky little detective i know that you are.” he waits for your reaction, confused that your eyes are still closed, your thumbs still rubbing at his forearms. it was peaceful. for the first time, you felt protected. and really understood. important. valued. loved. whole fuck you felt loved.

“i don’t know how much help i can be,” you choked, voice a lot weaker than you wanted it to sound. truth is, it was taking every bone in your body not to kiss him again, get that fire ignited again. but you had to focus. one battle at a time. beat the dragon, then you get the prince.

“how about this, you and i, we go back in the house, i’ll sit you down on the counter - yeah that’s right the counter - because i don’t give a fuck if ethan thinks it’s unsanitary. i’m gonna cook you you’re favorite meal, kiss those beautiful lips for as long as i want,” he pauses to dip his head down, pecking your lips slowly as an example, a butterfly flew through your core, wings licking at the buzzing nerves, “and explain every tiny detail until you understand just how serious we are about getting you away from that sick creep. i may be persistent but my brother is a determined mother fucker too and he cares about you, y/n. as much as he loves to tease you and throw his little tantrums when you eat the last piece of pizza - he cares so much. and he wants you to be safe. to be with us. be with me...if that’s what you want.”

“as in like...live with you? are you sure that’s a good idea? i mean i kind of have a crazy guy on my back you sure you guys want that baggage?” you’re tone is lighthearted and witty, but he knows that’s just you trying to hide how nervous you were.

“you know, when you love someone, their baggage becomes your baggage. you have that weight together and find the strength to carry it along the way. at least that’s what i’ve found out.”

when you love someone

when you love someone

when he loves someone

when grayson loves...

he loves you

“you love me?” the gleam in your eye is too obvious to miss, the excitement of a child, the joy of a rich man, the satisfaction of a sinner, the bliss of a saint.

“maybe a little,” he grins, lips dropping onto random areas of your face, making their way slowly down, down, down to your blush pink lips. the feeling of them puckering had him pulling you closer again.

“is it too much to ask that you say it again? just for good measure.” your request has him chuckling in your ear, hair tickling you when he bobs his head in a nod.

“i love you,” he sighs, finger hooked under your jaw to tilt your head to the side, sealing his lips down onto yours again. breathing in the sweet scent of your perfume. it drowned his every sense.

it felt so fucking good to say that.

it sounded like your favorite melody. and somehow, as cheesy as it sounded, it gave you strength. gave you that extra power you needed to know that this life did have a purpose beyond pain and misery. it had people like grayson. people like ethan. people that cared about you. people that protected you. people that were ready to do anything they had to do just to make sure you knew how loved you really were.

“i love you too.” it slipped out without you knowing. your hand itched to slap over your mouth, cover up the ultimate betrayal against the monster somewhere off in LA cheating on you again, planning his next attack against you. but no, you wouldn’t feel guilty about loving him. not when it’s the strongest emotion you’ve ever felt. not when it was the truth. and not when he’s cradling you in his arms promising a future beyond the pain and sadness you’ve been stuck in for so long. so for good measure, and just because it felt like a breath of fresh air, you say it again, “i love you.”

“oh fuck,” he breathes through a disbelieving grin, picking you up by the back of your thighs and spinning you around in circles. your legs hooked around his waist tightly, squealing laughter echoing throughout the backyard. this is the freest you’ve felt in so so long. he slows down to a sway once again, turning your head to kiss you slowly, pushing his tongue between your lips to dance with yours again.

“slow down, slow down, we still have something to do yeknow,” you breathe, a lazy smile aimed at his own delighted eyes. he looked so free and it shocked out for some reason that you were the cause of that look.

“no no you’re right i’m sorry, i’m just happy. feels good when you know the girl you love is safe for once. but i guess we do have to go talk to ethan about the insufferable douchebag you chose to date for whatever ungodly reason. must have had a magical dick or something cause the man is lacking in all other categories,” grayson mocks, setting you back into the flats on your feet and imtertwining your fingers together, leading you back toward the house where you presume ethan is waiting somewhere close by.

“actually no, he never really uh...finished the job in that department. was kind of selfish. but i managed,” you tut, rubbing your thumb over the skin on his hand, loving the feeling of him against you in any way you could get. you knew you were so touch starved, but didn’t care if it felt this good.

he stopped at the sliding glass door, face dully lit by the yellow of the light from the kitchen, pointing a defined eyebrow at you in a displeased scowl, the fucker didn’t even make you cum? with a shake of his head he’s sliding the glass door open, ready to talk to his brother and start the plan for your escape. hes ready to see you thrive again. he knows neither he, nor ethan will rest until you have shaken every form of contact with the spineless monster you’re controlled by daily. this plan will be his religion until it is completed. he turns his head to look at you, a smirk on his delicious soft lips, licking at them quickly.

“we will be changing that, make no mistake.”

[floosies]

Dead to Me

pairing: mob!Tom (Hiddleston) x poc!reader

summary: vices are hard to give up

warnings: cursing, dubcon smut, violence 18+ This is mature stuff.

Imma tag my sister from another mister @honeychicanawrites​ because she is my favorite writers like ever. Also she wanted to be tagged 💗 😁

She’d left without a warning, without a clue as to where she would be headed. In her defense, she’d had enough of his character. Why she ever believed she could change him was a question that constantly made her regret her choices. At the start, she really believed that he loved her with all his heart, but as the years passed he became distant and cold.

This coldness became unbearable by the second year. Unfortunately his men were always watching over her. However, that did not stop her from planning her escape. With the dark of the night, she managed to escape the home that had become a prison. She’d met someone else, a man who treated her with the admiration she deserved. 

For months, things seemed to look hopeful. They’d settled into a new town where Tom’s reign of terror did not exist. She was happy again, but little did she know she left a trail behind. In her urge and want she was sloppy. Tom knew he had been distant, he even felt bitter towards himself for it. When she left his side for a half class nobody, he realized she was desperate for his attention because surely she could not love a man who had nothing.

Watching her from footage obtained by his private investigator, he saw her happiness. It just wouldn’t do, how dare she think that anyone else could have her? It was him that made her who she was, and she owed that much. Tom was bound to her whether she liked it or not.

It happened on cold Saturday night, the man who’d tried to claim her heart was walking from his car to the flat when he was shot. His blood making a thin stream appear on the pavement. She’d heard the gunshot and was about to leave the flat and investigate when a voice stopped her in path, “I wouldn’t step outside if I were you darling, I’m afraid the scene is quite unsavoury for your innocent eyes.” His voice was calm and cool as ever.

Tears were beginning to form, she was terrified, “tell me you didn’t do what I think you did.” His silence was response enough, “he didn’t know! You had no reason to kill him! You animal! He-” Tom had heard enough, “he took away what belongs to me! I don’t take kindly to thieves!” His voice boomed like an explosion, she was petrified as he was now holding her by the waist. Streams of tears now giving way.

His thumb wiping them away, “now now pet don’t cry. You’re far too pretty for all those tears.” He cooed, she shook her head, “first you ignore me. Push me away, and now you take away my happiness. Why do you want me to suffer.” His left arm remained strongly around her waist, his right hand traveled from her waist, beginning to stroke her inner thigh. He’d missed her dearly, “why would I ever want to see you suffer, hm?" His hand was now stroking over the satin of her panties.

She hated that he knew how to please her. She could feel his fingers gently stroking her over the material. Her hands were now gripping the arm around her waist as she held in a gasp at the pleasure she was feeling. His voice low and raspy, "there's my good girl." His fingers moving aside the fabric, slipping into her gently toying her bundle of nerves.

Her head fell back onto his should as he began to pump his digits in and out of her slowly, “please.” She whimpered out meekly, this brought a smirk onto his face, “what was that darling? Are you begging now?” His pace was quickening now, his thumb drawing circles on her nub making her bite her lip. She knew she wasn’t going to last much longer, she could feel herself tightening around his fingers, he knew it too. Just as she neared her release he pulled away leaving her in a mess of heavy breaths.

Before she could have time to process what had just happened, he’d dragged her to the large couch near them. Her nightgown and underwear was removed without hesitation leaving her bare for his gaze. His eyes were full blown with lust and something else she couldn’t make out. A feverish kiss stopped her thoughts, his hands roughly spread apart her legs for him to wedge himself between them. 

He wasted no time, as they kissed she could hear the zipper of trousers come undone. “I’ll remind you how a real man fucks,” when he was crude he was capable of anything and for whatever reason it only aroused her more. There was nothing else said after, she simply felt him enter her. A loud gasp left her lips as he began to thrust into her with a slow, but deep force. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders as he bottomed out and thrust back in. 

Tom knew exactly what made her squirm and writher in pleasure. He could tell by the way she had her eyes shut and mouth agape that she was in ecstasy, this only made his ego grow more. He placed her legs on his shoulders, she was trying desperately to hold back her moans, “don’t be shy now pet, let me hear you.” His voice jagged and rough, she felt him thrust into a certain spot then it all became too good. She couldn’t keep quiet anymore, he was far too good at what he was doing.

It was becoming overwhelming, his fingers continued to play with her bundle of nerves as he fucked her. His lips were leaving bites over her chest, “i’m so close.” Her voice ached as he kept a fast pace, “cum for me darling.” As she came she felt his member twitch in her, his face contorted in pleasure and with a grunt he came in her.

Their foreheads pressed together for a moment as they caught their breaths. His green eyes met her brown doe eyes, their lips met once more in a softer kiss. He spoke softly, “come back home darling. I miss you so.” She knew the risk, but deep down she knew he wouldn’t give up until she did. He could see the contemplation on her face and promised her he’d be around this time. He had her in the palm of his hand, and without hesitation she left the whim she’d lived in behind.

[zankivich]

The Arrangement: CEO’s Son/Dom!Shawn x Black Sub Reader Chapter 17

a/n: this is it y’all. And what a ride it’s been. With all the shit in the world, and the shit that’s gone down in the fandom, I wish we had a shawn like this. but alas all we have is fiction and this is the best way I could think to end it, so I hope you enjoy. That’s all folks. Peace. 

*six months later*

Breaking News: Shawn Mendes has topped the Billboard 100 for his fourth week in a row with his hit single Fallin’ All In You. The pop star crashed onto the scene with the powerful ‘Youth’ co-written with his friend and fellow artist Khalid, and he hasn’t left us hanging yet! Is this the start of a new force to be reckoned with in the pop world or just a flash in the pan?

And we’re back with E! News. Shawn Mendes has stolen all of our hearts and it looks like he’s not willing to give them back. Here he is on the cover of GQ looking absolutely dashing as always. But the pop singer is not just here for his looks, it appears he’s a bit of a romantic as well. In the recent interview he chatted about his latest record, the potential grammy nominations, and...his girlfriend?!

Shawn Mendes is the biggest thing in pop music this year. Here he is walking the red carpet at the vma’s after taking home five awards from the night. And perhaps more stunning than the leading man himself was his girlfriend in tow, top artist manager in the game right now, y/f/n y/l/n. The two were quite the pair at the show and insiders say they couldn’t get enough of each other. Sorry ladies, this one’s taken!

Uh oh! Looks like there’s some drama in the world of Shawn Mendes. The young artist was seen leaving his attorney’s office in LA after being slammed with a law suite from none other than his father, the legendary Manny Mendes of Mendes Industry. Manny Mendes claims that Shawn was under contractual obligation not to release or perform any music and that the star may have actually breached his contract prior to signing to Atlantic records!

Popstar Shawn Mendes was recently spotted out in New York with his beautiful girlfriend, y/f/n y/l/n. The two were seen holding hands at a coffee shop and taking a stroll to a bookstore. It seems even celebrities still read books my friends! Y/n made news when she became the first ever manager to win Manager of the Year at Billboard’s Women in Music while simultaneously having one of her artists, Ariana Grande, take home the Woman of the Year prize. It seems the two are a power couple far on their way to dominate the music industry. I for one can’t wait to see what they do next.

*y/n’s point of view*

Sometimes you wake up from a really good dream. And you can’t remember what you dreamed about, can’t remember anything that happened, but all you get is this really pleasant feeling in your bones. This was one of those mornings. You woke up and your back cracked as you stretched and you curled your toes and groaned quietly. The sun was streaming through the windows. Your sheets were all comfy. And you opened your eyes to what? Your boyfriend looking at you like a total creeper.

You immediately groaned and rolled over away from him.

“Why are you staring at me, weirdo?”

“Well good morning to you too, love of my life. I’m feeling great, by the way.”

You giggled and rolled back over to find yourself in his arms. He pressed his lips to your forehead and settled his weight against you. The warmth was unlike anything you could experience elsewhere.

“What time did you get in?” You whispered.

His palm cupped your cheek, eyes bright and adorable.

“A little after three. Didn’t wanna wake you. I missed you.” He mumbled.

“I missed you too. They keep taking you away from me for longer and longer periods of time huh?”

He nodded softly. “Yea, unfortunately. Andrew thinks the world tour is gonna sell out though. They’re...they’re talking about adding dates, babe. I have a huge fanbase in the philippines...The philippines, y/n?! Me!”

God he was cute when he got excited. And Shawn was pretty much always excited when it came to music. The kid must be a dream to manage.

“I’m so very happy for you.” You chuckled. “Something tells me you’re gonna love it out there”

“You think?” He sighed. “I guess I just...I’m gonna miss you. Like crazy.”

“Me too.”

“Will you come visit me?” He asked pushing his way between your legs. “In LA?”

You snorted and wrapped your legs and arms around him.

“Of course.”

“Yea? How about in Paris?”

His lips touched your ear and you bit your lip.

“Mhm.”

“Brazil?”

“Yea.”

“Hmm...will you be my good girl? Let me take care of you?”

Your thighs tightened.

“I don’t know. I can be very bad when I’m abroad.”

He pulled back to stare at you, eyes less soft and fluffy and more hard and dominant. His curls were everywhere, even going so far as to tickle your nose. How could someone so fluffy be such a dom? It was astounding.

“How bad?” He asked.

You shrugged. “Why don’t you flip me over and I’ll show you?”

“Good god, I love you woman.”

You laughed into the sheets as he threw your body around like a rag doll. It was certainly good to be home.

“Everytime I’m away for a long time are you gonna make me remind you who you belong to?” He hummed against the dip in your back. “Who gets to make you feel good?”

You sighed noisily. “If I can help it.”

His hands on your body are like tidal waves. You never get used to it. Can never catch your breath to prepare for the next thrashing hold, the next grip, the next slap. The sun raises steadily into your bedroom, but neither of you notice. He’s too busy undressing you, touching you, making you beg. In the grand scheme of things, if he was going to be away for so long, the least the could do was throw your back out upon arrival home.

“Can I try somethin’?” He whispered kisses trailing up your tummy and between your breasts.

Your toes curled against his calves. You had to hold back a moan.

“What is it?”

“Well...I’d need to tie you down first.” He explained. “And then, as much as I love these beautiful eyes of yours I’d like to cover them for a little while. I thought about gagging your mouth on the plane ride home, but I think I wanna hear you cry out for me. How does that sound?”

It was a Tuesday morning. If you’d even bothered to look at the clock you would know it was eight thirty in the morning and you were due in the office soon. Meanwhile Shawn had spent his time planning out a whole ass elaborate sex dream. What was one to do?

“Go get the blind fold. Hurry.”

The dom/sub relationship continued to be one of the greatest sources of pleasure and relief in your life.  There’s something about the way he kisses your ankle when he straps it to the bed. The way he checks that you’re okay when your legs are spread wide. The more vulnerable you became with each other, the more open that you were the more  that you let yourself fall into these moments. Bare and naked on the bed. Nowhere to hide. Nowhere to act shy. You were on full display for him, just as he was for you. And he was in charge of your pleasure, a power that was not to be taken lightly. The good news was he knew exactly what to do with it.

“Color?”

“Green.”

“And the ropes? Do they hurt at all?”

“No, Sir.”

Without your eyes, your senses began to alter. You could sort of feel the air in the room differently. Your nipples hardened and your teeth sunk into your lip. He was watching you and you could feel it.

“What are you doing?” You murmured.

His voice came from lower, maybe between your legs at the bottom of the bed.

“Just looking. Appreciating.” He answered. “You’re beautiful baby.”

On the other side of the blind fold, Shawn was doing just that. He tilted his head back and sighed as he cupped himself firmly in his hand. While you were practically throbbing spread open for him to see, he was quite literally throbbing for you.

A groan entered the air, ending the silence.

“I missed you so much. You have no idea how much I thought about you while I was away.”

His fingers trailed up your leg and across your thigh causings your lips to part.

“S--Shawn.”

“How much I missed being inside you. Hearing you cry out for me. Are you gonna let me hear you, y/n?”

“Yes. Yes, just please touch me.”

He chuckled. “You get so impatient when I’m away.”

You sighed and pushed your hips gently towards the ceiling.

“Cause I miss what’s mine….I need it.”

You felt the bed move before you felt his presence over your body. And yet you knew the second that he was hovering over you because of the feel of his dick against your stomach. His nose skimmed your ear and you practically melted before him.

“Yours eh? You need it?”

You nodded shakily. “Please, sir? I need it so so bad.”

He sighed, long and breathy, and you could tell he wanted it just as badly as you did. You licked your lips in anticipation for it. Fuck.

“The things you do to me…Not yet. I’ve got plans for you baby girl.”

If only you knew. If only.

The buzz of it comes out of nowhere it feels like. There’s just silence. Your breathing, and the dips of the bed as he moves and nothing else. And then out of nowhere it comes buzzing. Your lips part instinctually, your body knowing something that your mind hasn’t even caught onto yet. The first time he touches it against your clit drives you wild, and before you know it the whole world sets ablaze.

“Unnnngh. Fuck.” You whimpered.

He hummed. “I got you something while I was away. What do you think?”

He’s an expert at playing you like his favorite instrument. The toy presses firmly to your clit and he rubs up and around so perfectly that you gasp. The fingers on his other hand join the party and suddenly you’re full in more ways then one. And the fact that you can’t see any of it? That there’s nothing but darkness and yet stimulation everywhere? It only heightens it all. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced.

“So wet for me. Is it because you haven’t been able to get off without me, or is it our new set up?”

You snorted. “I can get off without you just fine Mendes, just not quite this creatively.”

He chuckles and you smile, the ability to move in and out of this scene that the two of you play with one another, feels like all the love and trust that you’d chosen to given to him exclusively.

He finds his way on top of you again. The feeling of his presence and his weight rocking you to our very core. The vibrations don’t let up and your thighs begin to burn from the exertion, but here you are. You can feel the heat of his hard on and the feel of his breath against your clavicle. It’s too much. Your body can’t handle all the different sensations, but Shawn doesn’t seem to care.

His lips latch on to one of your nipples and the result is catastrophic. You burst from within for him. Like a wave crashing against the shore. Inevitable. Euphoric. Your back arches and the restraints dig into your skin as you threatened to bust out of your skin let along the ropes. It’s so powerful that it brings tears to your eyes, and a sob from your very gut.

“Oh my god! Ohmygod ohmygodohmygodohmygod! S--Stop!”

The vibrations disappear just like that. Suddenly your face in his hands and he’s ripping off the blindfold.

“Are you okay?! Did I hurt you?” He cried. “Y/n, speak!”

And then you started to giggle...softly at first and then loud and unabashed. Your knees were pulled awkwardly together against the resistance of the ropes. When Shawn saw that you were okay he rolled his eyes in that way of his. He was so cute and fluffy when he wasn’t making you cum your brains out.

“You’re gonna give a fucking heart attack one of these days you know that?”

You snorted softly and licked at your dry lips.

“Well damn daddy, how you gone tie a sister up and and put a fucking witachi wand to her and be shocked when she cums like she’s being electrocuted? You gotta commit, sir!”

He busted out laughing in that way that made his whole body shake, even his curls. You loved those laughs of his. They were everything to you. He hid is face in your neck. You could feel his laughter against your collarbone. You loved him then, more than anything in the whole world. The love of your life, he was.

It’s not until he pulls back far enough so that you can see his eyes again that the thing that is molten hot in your gut comes back. He is way too fine for his own good.

“How ‘bout I commit to making you cumall over my cock with that wand a few times? And then i thought I could take you to breakfast before work...and perhaps stop in again for a little late lunch?”

You closed your eyes and moaned.

“Put the blind fold back on.”

“Yes ma’am.”

***

There are things called insiders in the industry. It’s nosey, but very well connected people who just tend to know shit. And not like the people who leak to the tabloids, those were like commoners compared to royalty. Industry insiders could make or break a narrative. Which meant, y/n like to keep a few of them in her back pocket. It meant knowing the good shit before anybody, and more importantly...the bad shit so that you could plan and get ahead. Luckily this time it wasn’t news to get ahead of. Just perhaps news to keep a secret.

“Oh no. I know that face. You’re either about to wreck my life, or make my day. Either way one of us is leaving here in tears.” You sighed.

Into your office walked Caroline Graves, music industry insider, and one of your greatest friends though you didn’t see each other much. Caroline usually walked with gusto and poise. Today she was timid and shy, her big wide eyes tantalizing with secrets. She surely had something to share.

She smiled awkwardly. “Hi, babe!”

“Don’t ‘babe’ me. Have a seat.” You snorted.

She nodded and slid smoothly into the seat before you. She was slim and tiny with long blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She was about as white as they came, but she was a feminist to the core and the two of you had vouched for each other for years. Today was no different.

“I have news…” She began.

You chuckled. “Sis, everytime you come in here ya got news. Now what is it?”

“Something is circulating about the grammys.”

This had you sitting up straighter in the seat.

“Yea?”

“The word on the street is...Manny Mendes is trying to get Shawn Mendes barred from a single nomination.”

You bit your lip in anger. “That cold-hearted, Voldemort acting ass bastard. I should have expecto patronum’d his ass when I had the chance.”

She raised her eyebrow at you only for you to shrug.

“My boyfriend likes harry potter. When he’s happy I tend to be happy too. Please go on.”

“Apparently he’s got no grounds for the lawsuit he slapped Shawn with. He’s gonna lose the suit and he knows it, so he’s trying to pay anyone and everyone to change their score cards. Because the other word on the street is...Shawn’s gonna be up for Best New Artist, Album of the Year, Best Collaboration, Record of the Year, and Pop vocal.”

Your eyes widened. “I’m sorry?!”

She nodded. “I was just as surprised. But his debut album hasn’t left the top ten since he released it. He’s got three of the top songs of the year under his belt, and the kid is damn charming. The world loves an underdog, but you know what they love even more? A rich kid who gives it all up to chase his dream.”

“Well...shit. Shit….I mean...Shit.” You mumbled, collapsing back in your seat. “Even I didn’t call that.”

“No one did. I just want you to be aware that if my sources are right, and I’m sure you would know better than most, if Shawn’s lawyers push for the dismissal of the case and for his master’s to be returned? Things might just get a lot messier than he’s prepared for.”

“Dammit. Okay. Well thanks for the heads up. Now tell me what else is going on in this fucked up world?”

***

You heard the most peculiar sound coming from outside your door. It was a whirring sound, the kind of hypnotic machine rumblings that might make one feel nostalgic about your mother cleaning on the weekends. Perhaps it was only peculiar because you weren’t on the other side of the door, and thus to hear the sound didn’t quite make sense.

You slid your key into the door carting your purse and laptop bag into the house. Your confusion quickly came to an end when you found your boyfriend standing on the couch in sweatpants and nothing else as he attempted to vacuum the rug in the living room. In any other sense it was a vision of complete and utter ridiculousness. And yet there was nothing but tenderness in your heart. You leaned against the door with glee watching him with his tongue poised between his lips in concentration. He lifted the cord to the vacuum cleaner way high into the air as he attempted to go under the coffee table. The result was that it knocked the plug out of the wall, shutting the thing off.

“Shit.” He muttered.

A giggle passed your lips alerting Shawn that he was no longer alone. The frustration on his face turned to pure joy at the sight of you, a look that you could never get used to in a million years. He was too soft for his own good, and you loved him endlessly.

“Hey,” He smiled. “Are you spying on me?”

You shook your head, finally setting your stuff down on the kitchen table.

“Not spying...just admiring. The place looks great by the way.”

His smile only grew larger at the praise, and he quickly hopped down off the couch to make his way over to you.

“Really? I’ve been cleaning all day. I wanted it to look nice when you came home.”

His arms came to wrap around you and you quickly wrapped him up in your grasp as well. The warmth of his hold and the love that seemed to radiate from within him was enough to make you melt. And he knew this of course.

“Well it does. It looks amazing.” You hummed.

“Yea? How would you know, you’ve barely looked around. You’re just staring at me.”

“Exactly. And I like what I see.”

“Oh yea?” He asked leaning closer so your noises touched.

“Mhm.”

His lips were soft and heaven like against yours. The entire day seemed to wash away when he touched you. And you still couldn’t fathom how he managed to do that. He pulled back just far enough so that your foreheads could rest against one another and you could peer up into his eyes as he spoke.

“I know work has been really crazy for the both of us with award season. And I know I haven’t been home much--”

You quickly interrupted. “Hey, you do not need to apologize to me for working your ass off. It’s been an incredibly successful year, Shawn. You deserve it.”

“No I know, I know. I’m just saying I can also recognize that for every second I’m out there succeeding, I’m not here. And I just want you to know that I still appreciate you and us and our life that we have here. I want to build and sustain a life with you more than anything. That’s important to me.”

He had those stupid pouty lips and those ridiculous big brown eyes. It was a wonder anyone had ever said no to the bastard ever. You loved him. Oh god did you love him. He probably could get down on one knee and your ass wouldn’t even hesitate. Oh how times had changed for you.

You nodded gently. “Thank you. That means so much to me. Thank you for cleaning the house and for taking care of me. I appreciate you.”

“I appreciate you too. I appreciate everything that you do for me and for our apartment and for the world.  What do you say I take you out to dinner tonight. Give you the night off from cooking.”

“Hmmm...Can I put on something sexy for the occasion?”

He rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. “Baby, I’d be hurt if you didn’t.”

Changing out of the outfit from a day of stress and anxiety into something that had your man taking pause where he lied on your bed as you got ready was beyond worth it. You’d gone for a silk red dress that hit mid thigh and wrapped around you tightly. It was the kind of dress that made you lean back with your shoulders, that brought the poise and elegance that could only be achieved when you knew you were that bitch. With winter came protective styles and you were more than happy with your high bun that was sleeked to perfection.

“You look so pretty.” He sighed from the bed.

His eyes were big and hesitant when you looked at him from the mirror. It was as if he wanted to touch but knew he needed permission. God what a man.

You bit your lip. “You look kinda pretty too. Come ‘ere.”

Shawn was decked out in a nice pair of slacks, an upgrade to his usual skinny jeans, and dress shoes to match. He knew you preferred them to the chelsea boots so he usually only pulled them out for special occasions. Speaking of things he knew you liked, his dress shirt was a beautiful ocean blue and the buttons were non-existent. Ya man had his tiddies out exactly the way you liked him. But no stress woke friends, your tiddies were out too. Equality.

He wrapped his arms around you from behind and kissed the side of your head as you stared at each other through the mirror. The way he pressed himself against your ass was not lost on you, nor was the way you arched your back lost on him.

“Damn we look good.” You snickered.

He grinned. “Baby I don’t mean to toot our own horns but like...we’re fine as fuck.”

“Boy, toot toot toot. We are FWINE, with a W. I know we don’t believe in publicly sucking face like those obnoxious PR couples that have to keep careers afloat, but I think the world deserves to see this.”

“I think you’re right, my love.”

Two selfies--one of Shawn in a crouched position with the prayer hands staring up at you like the GAWDESS you were and another silly cute one of you sticking your tongues out at the camera--later you were off to dinner. The fact that you end up at your favorite restaurant is a surprising delight. Nothing feels out of the ordinary because your man took care of you on a regular basis. Dinners out and dressing up was a weekly occurrence, especially when you weren’t busy. However with grammys looming over your heads alone time had been scarce. So him going out of his way to make time mattered a lot to you. A lot alot.

You kept your face hidden in his neck on the ride there, a personal driver now the norm for your hotshot boyfriend. He’d gone and made you sentimental and sappy and there was nowhere to hide how you felt. Shawn had been more than patient with your difficulties in sharing emotions. But you had grown significantly.

“I love you.” You hummed against his neck.

His hands had been intertwined with yours, and he paused from playing with them to squeeze tightly at the digits.

“I love you too, sweetheart. More than anything.”

You shook your head playfully, voice small in his ear. “Not but like a lot. Like a lot, a lot.”

He chuckled. “Yea?”

You nodded, the fingers not intertwined with his finding place in his curls.

“I just can’t really imagine my life without you in it, I guess. You’re my person.”

He turned in his seat so that your legs moved over his knees and your bodies were more overlapped than apart. His palm found your cheeks and you melted like only he could cause, like only he was capable of producing within your being.

“Well good. I don’t really plan on you being without me anytime soon. I hope that’s okay?”

You nodded again. “More than okay. Don’t go away.”

“Never.”

Dinner is splendid.There’s a new added layer of paparazzi appearing outside before you’ve even arrived. Shawn can’t really go anywhere unseen anymore, but you’d never met someone so worth enduring it for. It feels simultaneously like romance and love while also feeling like a random tuesday with your best friend. Somehow he still manages to make you laugh. Somehow he can still get your toes to curl beneath the table. He asks if you’ll be his date to the grammys. You agree only if he’ll take you out for pizza after. He promises. You know he’ll uphold it. By the time desert comes you don’t think the night could get any better. You’re wrong.

“Hey do you mind if we stop at the studio real quick? I left my guitar there earlier when I was laying down a track.” He asks.

You agree because what reason do you have to say no? In hindsight never in a gazillion years would Shawn leave his guitar at a studio. He’d hold in his lap on the plane if they let him.

It’s the same studio you took him too that first time he showed Khalid how to lay a vocal better than the producer could. When he asks you to follow him in and the lights are dimmed beyond belief, you don’t get it. The fact that his guitar is nowhere to be found might certainly be a hint, but apparently you were dumb as a bag of rocks.

“Will you uh...will you sit for me?” He asked pulling up a chair by the vocal booth.

You raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“It’ll all make sense in a second.” He smiled. “Please?”

You hesitantly lowered yourself into your seat, facing Shawn as he smiled at you. His knees were bouncing, his hands waving anxiously as he tried to balance them. You hadn’t seen him so nervous since...since he asked you out on your first date. The hell?

“Shawn?” You asked. “What the hell is goin’ on?”

He swallowed. “I...I wrote you a song. And I just finished it this afternoon. Can I play it for you?”

There's that softness in his eyes again. The personification of puppy-love. He had only ever asked to give you the world since you met him, and he fought through every single wall you’d had put up long before he arrived, until he could. He plays with his rosary around his neck and flicks the beads back and fourth between his thumb and forefinger. The anxiety comes off of him in waves. He’d never been so nervous to share a song with you before. It must mean that it meant more to him than usual. The least you could do was indulge him.

“Of course.”

It’s beautiful. Perhaps the most beautiful thing he’d ever written. And drastically different from the album. Shawn had gone for R&B and soul on the record with that pop flair that made for a commercial hit. But this was all singer-songwriter. Intricate chords on the guitar. Raw vocals. Nothing else. And the words are just for you and him. It’s your life together in a song. Things that no one but the two of you could ever understand. Cooking on sunday afternoons because you hadn’t left bed until then. Your head in his lap, his fingers in your scalp when your braids were hurting. His lips on your neck. It was you. And no one else.

“Well...What did you think?” He mumbled spinning aimlessly in his chair like a toddler hyped up on sugar.

You smiled widely. “I think...I think I’m really fucking lucky to be loved by you. It’s beautiful. What is it, the next single?”

He shook his head and it made his curls bounce. God was he cute.

“Not exactly.”

“Okay, well what’s it for?”

“I’ve been thinking lately ya know? About us, and about the life that we have together. In our apartment. And I just have been thinking about how I could maybe make it better for you--no baby, just let me finish,” He whined when you went to interrupt him. “Not because it sucks but because I’m always thinking of how it could be better. And there are things I still wanna give you ya know?”

You bit your lip, for some reason willing to indulge him.

“Yea? Like what?”

He rolled closer and closer and took your fingers in his own. Intertwined.

“I wanna give you a house. With an office, so that you can get work done but I can still come see you and bother you. I wanna give you a jacuzzi  like that one we found in the Domincian Republic that one time? I wanna give you...a baby one day. You know if you--if that’s what you want. If we decide that’s what we want together. I want your mom to retire. I want you to never have to worry about anything ever again. I want to dominate the world with you, build an empire, a legacy.”

Now it was your legs that were shaking. You didn’t know how he could manage to make you feel so overwhelmingly full of love. You have not a clue how you had managed to snag him of all people. It was utterly unbelievable, and you simply would never be willing to give it up.

“And just how in the world do you expect to make all that happen, silly?”

He chuckled nervously and squeezed your fingers.

“Can I be honest?”

“That’s all I ask.”

“I haven’t quite figured it all out yet. Do you think you’d be okay with giving me a little time?”

You laughed. “Of course, babes. Take as much time as you need.”

“How ‘bout forever?”

“Forever? Well I’m not getting any younger, sir.” You snorted.

He shook his head softly, letting the wheels of his chair fall back so that he could make his way to one knee. The image had its intended effect. You froze like a lobster being tossed into the pot, and probably were just as red beneath all the melanin.

“I promise that no matter what happens, I’m gonna do everything in my power to give you everything you’ve ever wanted. I want to love you for the rest of our lives. I want to be your partner in crime. Always. Baby, will you marry me?”

“Shawn….S--Shawn...That’s an engagement ring.” You whispered.

He nodded. “It is. It’s your engagement ring. If you want it. Do you want it?”

Your fingers felt over your chest to feel the way your heart was beating so fast it might burst through. You’d spoken about it. Had had the whispered dreams in each other's ears in bed late at night. He’d promised it one day even, but never had you seen this one coming. Ever. And certainly not this soon.

“I….YES! Gimme!”

“Yea?!”

“YEA!”

He fumbles with the ring and just barely gets it onto your finger before he’s in your lap kissing you, still on his knees for you like it was nothing. Your arms wrapped tightly around him as his lips melded to yours and it couldn’t have felt any better. He was yours. A fact you had known and felt secured in for so long you could remember no different. But this was different. This was him asking you for forever. Just the two of you. Thick and thin. The whole shebang. This was love at the highest level, and trust, and compassion, and heart.

There are tears on your face and on his. You try to wipe lip gloss from his lips while he rubs at your eyes that are leaking. It’s very much the two of you. Messy and dramatic and ridiculous, but equal. When he pulls you into his arms your heart is fully and infinitely his. And there’s no space to miss it because you’ve already got his in return to fill the space.

“I love you more than anything. I can’t wait to marry you.” He smiled.

“Me neither. Me neither. I love you so much.” You whispered. “Can we go home now and make love please?”

His eyes widened. “Just like that aye?”

“Just like that.”

“You haven’t even looked at your ring.” He chuckled pulling your arms from around his neck.

You rolled your eyes. “Oh Shawn you know I don’t care about material pos--WELL DAMN! Suddenly I can’t see. Suddenly I am blinded by the light! SHEESH!”

The thing was massive. A beautifully elegant, diamond encrusted band wrapped around your finger. It was easily overshadowed by the diamond itself. The classic princess cut, which he had somehow picked out without ever asking you. You didn’t know how many carats it was, and in reality it didn’t really matter. If you knew him, and you did, it wasn’t about being flashy. It was truly about giving you everything he thought you deserved. And this had just been another on the very long list.

“It’s beautiful. You know that.” You sniffled holding your finger up to the light. “Jesus, Shawn.”

“I had it designed after we moved in together. I might have asked Ti for some pointers.” He smiled reaching your hand. “I just wanted it to be perfect.”

“It is. It really is. Please come here?”

More kissing. More holding. More love. More emotion. Being in love is a lot of work y’all.

“Please...Please take me home now.” You murmured when the warmth of his hands on your hips had begun to burn through your dress and all you wanted was to thank him...and thank him...and thank him.

“You have no idea how much I want that….But I actually have another proposition for you.”

At this you paused.

“Oh for the love of all that is holy! Shawn my heart cannot take anymore tonight. What in the caucasity could you possibly have to show me?” You whined.

“I cannot wait to tell our children how you made me swoon on the night I proposed.” He snickered, suddenly handing you a thick, padded envelope. “I thought you might like to be my business partner as well as my life partner.”

In the folder were documents detailing the lawsuit of Mendes Industries versus Shawn. It documented the trial, and the win on Shawn’s lawyer’s part. It documented all of the songs that they'd won back, all his hard work that was now his possession again. And it offered the trademark to a new name, a new industry one might say….S+Y Industries. and it had the audacity to list your name as CEO.

“What in the entire fuck is this?” You gasped. “And speak quickly because you know I slap irrationally when I get excited.”

And suddenly his hands found your hips again, like a little rum rubbing against the gums of a teething baby, lulling you into his hold. You could smell his cologne and his heat and it made your heart beat calm if only slightly.

“See I had this incredible manager, who wasn’t a manager, decide to craft my contract on an album by album deal, which means after this tour...I have options. And so I thought maybe I might house all of my work from the past, present, and future, under my own label. And then I thought how crazy that was...how I couldn’t do it alone, so I just thought...maybe you might like to run it with me.”

His hands trembled against your waist. It was the only indication that you weren’t crazy, that this was indeed the wildest shit anyone had ever asked of you in your whole life. Of everything you could have ever expected from this, this wasn’t even in the same stratosphere. To run your own label had been a dream of yours since you were a child. When he had said he wanted to give you the world, the man wasn’t joking.

“Baby you--you gotta speak. My heart is pounding. I’m going crazy over here.” He mumbled licking his lips.

Your body slowly unfroze as you looked up from the paperwork and into the eyes of the craziest man you’d ever met in your life.

“Well that’s what your pasty ass gets for pulling this shit on me like this.”

He only smiled softly at you. “You’ve got a point. So uh...what do you say?”

“I say...I’ll have to have my lawyers read over it of course. And my terms for being CEO will only be founded on the basis that my salary increases from what I’m making now. We’ll need to discuss what your role as President will be, and what that will look like within the context of the company as you continue to tour and make music of course. And I want to make sure you’re protected from--”

“Sweetheart,” He whispered, pulling your eyes to him. “Just say yes. I’ll do whatever you want. You know that. Just say yes.”

You nodded silently, admittedly a little lost in his eyes and his confidence and his soul. Jesus.

“Y--Yes.”

“Come here.”

And he kisses you again and again and again until your bodies are more one than two. Until your heart beats both faster and slower at the same time. Until it’s just the two of you against the world. You liked your odds.

*two months later*

*Shawn’s point of view*

There’s a reason why he needs her with him at all times. There’s a reason why his hands shake when she’s not holding him. A reason why his breathing is out of sorts when she’s not around. There’s a reason why they’re sat in the front row at the Grammys and a reason why he makes them point out her seat in the crowd for him.

The grammys were the most terrifying night of his whole entire life. A lot of people felt like they could define a night, a year, an entire career. But they could never mean more than to a boy who had grown up with them around the house, who had seen them on the coffee table, who had to leave his life behind to even get a shot at one. The Grammys meant that the world had accepted him, had welcomed him in with open arms...despite his dad doing everything in his power to get them not to. But they also meant that she had believed in him like no one had, like not even he had.

So, that night when he performs he’s only performing for her. And he’s only singing to her. Perhaps for that reason alone it’s one of the smoothest performances he’s ever had. When the last note rings out, he lets his guitar fall against his thigh and he holds his fingers to his lips to send a kiss her way. He knows the camera is on the two of them. He wants them all to know that no one has ever loved anyone the way he loves her. And the kiss she sends back his way is all he’ll ever need. It’s the icing on the cake. To be loved by her. He was ready to go home with that and only that. You have to believe that.

He walks backstage and Andrew is waiting there with a guy dressed in all black and a headpiece in his ear. They both stop him, and he’s just a little bit annoyed that he can’t get back to y/n faster. They had a game plan to take a drink every time Alicia Keys performed a random song that night.

“What’s up?”

“They’re about to announce Best Collaboration and Best Pop Vocal. You’re up for both, so you’re staying here.”

He winced. “W--Wait can I...can I go back to my seat first?”

Andrew shook his head. “What? No, man. Come on the camera’s ready to go.”

“But y/n! She’s got my phone, I can’t even text her.”

“You can look  at her if you win the grammy, now stop whining!”

His heart pounds. His legs shake. His hands wreak havoc on his guitar until they yell at him for playing and take the damn thing away from him. It’s the scariest minute of his whole entire life. He’s lucky they hadn’t started drinking quite yet.

“And the winner for best collaboration goes to….Shawn Mendes ft. Khalid, “Youth”!!!!”

The curtain backstage opens and he doesn’t move. Because surely there’s a mistake. Surely Ariana Grande or someone else won. He was just a guy with a guitar. There was no fucking way.

“SHAWN GO!” Andrew huffed pushing him towards the stage.

Khalid is already there. Shawn feels so stunned he waddles awkwardly toward the stage. Fucking Lizzo is standing there for Christ sake. Khalid is all smiles and jumps on him with love and a squeezed hug. He still can’t believe it.

Lizzo hands him the fucking grammy and suddenly its in his hands. His hands. And the whole room goes silent because they’re waiting for him to speak. Him.

“I...I don't know what to say.” He mumbled.

“THAT’S MY MANS. STAND UP TALL BOY!”

He looks over in the direction of her and she’s standing for him. She’s got tears in her eyes. She’s smiling so big it looks like it hurts. For him. All for him. And because she said so his spine straightened. Because it was actually all for her.

“I...can only thank one person on this earth for this grammy and for this year and for this life that I have now.” He sniffled, throat tightening as he turned to her. “You found me when I was nothing but a trust fund asshole who couldn’t look more than two feet in front of him. You loved me and healed me and cherished me when no one else would. This is only because of you. Because you’re the most talented human being in this room, and you work harder than any of us. Because for some reason you think I’m worthy of your love. Thank you. I--I’m gonna spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I love you. T--Thank you.”

It’s like walking on butterflies. It’s like doing coke and ecstasy and molly all at once. His ears feel like they’ve burst. His heart is thudding so fast he’s given up on trying to calm down. He just wants to go to her. He’s not too proud to wipe away the tears in his eyes, and there’s a moment where Khalid and he just hold each other. Because they just wrote a song about how the world wasn’t fair, and it had somehow been recognized by that very world. In the middle of this hug, he is once again tugged in a different direction against his will, because why the fuck not.

Best pop vocal album doesn’t even make sense. Like it was actually wild. He had thought it was ridiculous when he got nominated, and for them to hand him the award is just absurd. Absolutely absurd.

“What the hell?” He asked y/n through the mic, because apparently he could only speak to her during his acceptance speeches. “I really thought Ariana had this one.”

Ari was sitting next to y/n in a ball gown that nearly swallowed her, but he could at least see the two of them nodding at each other.

“So did we!”

“I’m so sorry.” He mumbled to both of them, incredibly sincere. “Uh...I wanna thank my fans for even buying the music and coming to see me.That is the wildest thing in the world to me and I promise to never take it for granted. I’m gonna leave now. Okay bye.”

They finally let him go back to his seat during the commercial break. He practically falls into her arms. Her lip gloss coats his mouth and he couldn’t be happier. Finally, with her fingers on him he can relax.

“I can’t believe you used your first grammy speech to just ramble about me.” She whined wiping away the colored lip gloss. “Did you not write a damn speech like I told you too?”

He shook his head softly. “I didn’t think I would win. And you--you looked so pretty. I got starstruck. I won two grammys baby, I’m the happiest guy alive right now. Now can we please get drunk and listen to Lady Gaga? It’s all I want.”

“Sorry sweetheart. You’re up for three more tonight. No alcohol for you.”

“I...What? But--But what about our drinking game?”

“You have a reputation to uphold sir.” She said sternly.

He simply pouted at her with as soft of a look as humanly possible. She raised an eyebrow as if it wouldn’t work. His fiance was a tough cookie to crack.

*ten minutes later*

“Look babe! Alicia is at the piano again!” He murmured excitedly.

“Alright. Down the hatch!”

And the tequila kept coming for the rest of the night.

*an hour later*

“Babe, I wanna go home.” He whined into her shoulder.

“Mmm, can’t yet. There’s still like three more awards left. You’re three for five babe.”

“You smell so good. I think your collarbones are my favorite body part. I’d like to dedicate some time to them later if you’d let me”

She giggled. “Boy, we’re in public.”

He pouted at her, a bit annoyed that this award show was stopping him from making love to her already.

“Then let’s leave. Right now. We can elope. I don’t even need a wedding. Just you, me, a bottle of champagne, and that villa in Rome. What do you say?”

“I say….you need to give me your cup before you slip and tell the whole world we’re engaged.”

No fun.

He leans on her shoulder and stares up at her wondering how the hell she got so pretty when the next awards are called.

“It is time to announce Best New Artist. Past winners have included Alessia Cara, Doa Lipa, and me, Billie Eilish. Here are the nominees.”

“Baby, I love you.” He whispered pursing his lips for a kiss.

“You are on camera. They’re about to announce your award, babes.”

“There’s no way in hell I won, y/n. Look I’m so content right now I just wanna--”

“And the winner is...SHAWN MENDES.”

And suddenly he was upended by the gracious melanated pillow that was his fiance's titties. Truly a crime against humanity.

“GO!” The entire first row yelled as he stared around owlishly.

Tequila is a hell of a thing.

He reached for her hand and immediately began walking towards the stage, not at all concerned by her yelling at him or trying to remain in her seat. Fat fucking chance.

He gets her on the stage and they both hug Billie, and he has a moment where he realizes he actually fucking won, and what that means. They hand him the award and y/n tries to step back with BIllie but he won’t let go of her hand, wouldn’t dream of letting go of her hand. She’s not wearing his ring in that moment, and he knows exactly why, but he can still feel it -- the commitment, between the two of them. That will never fade.

“I’m so sorry that I’m up here again. I--I’m sure that you’re sick of me. But, I’m so glad I get the chance to have her up here with me just once. I don’t uh I don’t get to talk about all that she’s done for me, mostly because she won’t let me. And mostly because her job is to make people like me and a lot of you get to a place where we can share our stories and our passion through music. But not all of us are that lucky. And for a long time, I wasn’t.”

He peered over at her for courage and strength and perhaps because he just liked to look at her. When she smiled it made him feel safe. And so he kept talking.

“I signed a contract with my father when I was fifteen years old...and I thought he wanted the best for me, thought that he’d make me a star or something. But instead he took every song I ever wrote and kept it from being released. And he didn’t let me perform, record, or even write anything that could be viewed in public for years. And I think a lot of people in this room wouldn’t even know what to do with themselves if they couldn’t create. Music is what makes me--us--human. I’m nothing without it.” He peered down at his grammy and swallowed thickly. She pressed her fingers against his back and it was like he could breathe better, so he smiled at her “But uh it would mean nothing if I didn’t have you. I’m gonna write songs about you for the rest of my life. I’m gonna love you for the rest of my life. And if we get a couple grammys for it that’ll be cool. But I’m me because you allowed me to be. So this is for you. Okay? No take backs.”

He hands her the award and rests his hands upon her waist. They’re shaking, but he can’t tell when she’s kissing him in front of the whole world. The applause that rings out around them might as well be background noise. He’s got nothing in his head, his heart, his field of vision, but her. And he kind of wants it to stay that way forever.

That alone could be the end of the story. And he’d never ask for another thing again. But instead they take home album of the year and he has to get up there and make another speech. He was sick of speeches, and he was sure the rest of the audience was too. So he quickly thanked his collaborators, Khalid again, Niall for essentially creating the record with him, Andrew, everyone at the label, his mum. You know, the people he couldn’t thank when he was do busy praising y/n?

“Sorry again. I guess I could have thanked all those people earlier in the night but I just wanted to spend some time talking about my fiance tonight. It’s my favorite thing in the world. Have a good night everyone!”

And a bit of a gasp rings out across the crowd. And he pauses cause he’s not quite sure what’s going on. He looks to Alicia who gave him the award and her eyes are wide. Not a great sign. He peers over to y/n because surely she could tell him what the hell had happened. She stares him down like a wolf that hasn’t eaten in a few weeks. Even Ariana Grande is shaking her head at him in a big puffy dress like she’s disappointed. And the poor bastard that he is, he truly doesn’t know what he did wrong at first.

“Well that’s what it’s all about folks. Love. It’s a beautiful thing. I think I speak for us all when I say we wish y/n and Shawn nothing but the best in their marriage. That’s our show tonight. Have a wonderful night and spend some time spreading love and positivity.”

Oh God.

“What did I do? What did I do?!” He asked her walking down the steps of the stage.

“You told the whole world we’re getting married, boy. Get your pasty ass down here!”

He walks back to her like a puppy with its tail between its legs. He was genuinely the dumbest fucker alive.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I--I didn’t mean to--it just slipped out!” He apologized.  “At least I didn’t tell them about the label.”

She rolled her eyes. “I simply cannot believe you’re my forever. You just won five grammys. Shut up and kiss me already.”

That much he could do. 

The End.

Permanent taglist 

@simpledomain @liliane106  @xeuphorically-moonstruck @euphoric05 @daijanicole @bruhh-whateven @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @decewill @goldiean @bitchacho25 @bruhh-whateven @justbeingoceana @loveylangdon @iloveshawnieboi @justbeingoceana @september-lace @valedictorian65 @disaster-rose @dimestorebieber22 @MixerMani @qcoachcartier @sinplisticshawn @kamahriii @lifeoftheparty74 @qcoachcartier @justbeingoceana

Arrangement Taglist: 

@moonlightmendes22  @cottoncandyshawn @iloveshawnieboi @shawnsblue

@claredolphinbear24 @peterbrokenparker @blackharry @shawnwyr @speakingofmari @moniehp @softmendesss @ydolansss  @chonmnds @MixerMani @kitykatnumber  @lanallaa @@mendesficsxbombay @palhacomendes 

[kpop-zone]

Bully Twice reaction to liking their victim

A/N: I’m sorry if this is kinda disappointing. First of all, my writing sucks in general. Secondly, I just couldn’t imagine some of the members being really mean, so this is more of a soft bully liking their victim reaction :D

Nayeon

Sometimes Nayeon asked herself whether she was a bad person. Some people thought she was, but she wasn’t convinced. She was simply better than other people. Consequently, they needed to be punished when they acted out of line. That was the only way to secure the order. Admittedly, sometimes innocent people had to suffer too, but that was the rare exception.

One of those exceptions was you. Nayeon was fairly perplexed when she realized that she liked you. She had always imagined falling for someone equal. Gorgeous, rich and high-class. But those weren’t the words, Nayeon would use to describe you. You were a wallflower. The only reason why she had noticed you, was because you had dropped all your books when she bumped into you while brushing past you. Agitatedly she had looked at you to show you your place in the hierarchy, but the moment, she looked into your eyes, she knew that you were special. Maybe not for the rest of the world, but for her.

Nevertheless, she couldn’t ruin her reputation. She couldn’t be seen with someone like you. Therefore, she couldn’t stop treating you like an inferior. Plus, she actually quite enjoyed the fearful look in your eyes when you were around her. It was always fun to torture other people, but something about torturing you, gave her the extra kick.

So you became her drug. She was lurking for you everywhere. In school, on your way home and even when you went out with your friends to go to the cinema. Every single time, she cornered you, dug her nails into your skin and made you beg for her to spare you. If she couldn’t be close to you in the way she wanted to, she had to find different ways. Perhaps, you weren’t able to see it, but it was her way of showing you that she liked you.

Jeongyeon

Feelings were weaknesses. In this world, it was to eat or to be eaten. And Jeongyeon decided for the former. Therefore, she built walls around her that no one could break, making her cold and untouchable. Everyone in school was scared of her. Even her friends. Because no one was safe. If someone did something against her will, they would be punished, no matter who they were. Especially if someone threatened to reveal how insecure she really was.

And no one was better at it than you. Although you didn’t even know it. When Jeongyeon first saw you, everything around her faded into the background and she could only see you. She was mesmerized. In the beginning, Jeongyeon didn’t see a problem with her admiration. Until it started to show. You had accidentally bumped into her in the hallway. Seeing who you had run into, you tried to protect your face from the punch that you were expecting and Jeongyeon’s heart felt heavy.

She didn’t want you to fear her. She had been so disappointed by your reaction that she stopped dead in her tracks, and you had the chance to run away. Everyone in the hallway had stared at her in disbelief. Did the Jeongyeon just let a victim go? And suddenly she had realized what you had been doing all this time. You had been breaking down her walls. But she couldn’t let that happen. What would the others do if they found out that she wasn’t all that tough like the pretended to be?

So the next time she saw you, she had to punish you. Prove to everyone that you weren’t her weakness. Unsuspectingly, you were in the cafeteria, walking to your seat with your tray in your hands, when Jeongyeon wordlessly walked up to you. She knocked the tray out your hands and shoved you so hard that you fell to the floor. You winced in pain and Jeongyeon shortly closed her eyes because of the noise. Quickly she stormed past you and out of the cafeteria, before anyone could see the tears welling in her eyes. She needed to stay untouchable to protect herself. She wouldn’t let you be an exception, even if you were.

Momo

Momo loved walking through the halls, making people quiver. Equally in fear and in awe. She knew that everyone wanted to either be her or be with her. But she was untouchable. No one could do it like her and even when she liked to play with the feelings of others, at the end of the day, no one could have her either. They were just her toys that she liked to torture.

Momo knew that it was wrong to put other people down to feel better, but she didn’t care. It was just too much fun. Therefore, she kept making people look like fools. And the possibilities to do so were endless when everyone followed your word like dogs. But her favorite methods had to be to literally let people kiss her feet or to drive a wedge between couples by seducing them to cheat. Being evil was just a great time killer.

One day, she had been feeling bored again, so she had forced a random group of friends that had been standing in the hallway to give her all their food, only to throw it on the floor the next moment and let them clean it  up again. As she had been watching the scene in front of her, you had caught her eye. For the first time in her life, she had fallen for someone. In the beginning, she didn’t understand what her feelings meant.

Only when she kept torturing you the following weeks, she realized that it was no fun to watch you suffer. So she decided to claim you. You belonged to her now. Wordlessly she interlaced your fingers when you were walking down the hall one day, only for you to yank away your hand. But it didn’t matter what you thought. Sooner or later you would realize that she only wanted the best for you. Therefore, Momo aggressively clutched your arm, digging her nails into your skin.

“Don’t make it harder than it has to be.”

She whispered threateningly into your ear before kissing your cheek sweetly.

Everyone was looking in shock at the two of you, but Momo didn’t care. You were hers now and it was better when everyone knew.

Sana

Sana had liked you since she could think. But apparently the universe liked torturing her. The two of you never seemed to walk the same path. While you became a talented, smart and lovely person, she became part of the worst kind of people. The ones that felt superior to others and thought that they had the right to do anything they wanted to. She wasn’t a bad person, but her charms and looks made her the picture-perfect evil sweetheart. And so she became what everyone thought she was.

But no one was resistant against her charms. Neither were you. You had noticed her staring at you from across the room, making you nervously avoid her gaze. Sana thought that your shyness was cute. You made her feel like a hunter, watching her prey. But soon the glances weren’t enough. She needed to feel you underneath her touch. So eventually, she ambushed you. You had been searching for a book in the library when she pinned you to the shelf, attaching her lips to yours and sucking all air out of you. You didn’t even know what had hit you before Sana already disappeared, not wanting anyone to catch the two of you.

That’s how her game with you began. She made you feel like no one else ever did before. Both in the best and worst way possible. When no one was watching, she attacked you with kisses, making both of your heads spin. But as soon as she was with her friends again, she made your life a living hell. Her specialty was to seduce you in front of the eyes of everyone, only to pull back in the last second, making you look like the biggest, most oblivious fool in the whole school.

“Did you really think, I would kiss you? That makes you not only ugly, but stupid too.”

She would laugh maliciously, making everyone around you join in. And every time you ran away with tears streaming down your cheeks, making Sana’s heart ache. But for everyone else, she put her cold mask on, letting the crowd fete her while she smirked smugly.

Jihyo

Jihyo knew that she was a queen and so did everybody else. She was by far the most popular girl in school and everyone wanted to be close to her. And being the popular girl had its perks. Jihyo could basically do whatever she wanted without suffering the consequences. Her clique and her skipped the line in the cafeteria, forced the nerds to do their homework for them and reserved a whole restroom to be able to smoke inside the school building. Everyone just accepted their superiority. Everyone except for you. Unwaveringly you refused to stand down to Jihyo.

Today all of her friends and her were gathered in their “private” restroom when you barged in.

“Get lost, loser!”

One of her friends, yelled at you, but you didn’t care. Slow-paced you walked to the sink, washing your hands. Jihyo smirked to herself. She liked the challenge. It was fun to be the popular girl for a while, but she had gotten bored lately. Everyone just knelt to her, there was no excitement anymore to all of this.

Nevertheless, she couldn’t let it show that she was impressed by you. Roughly she shoved you, making you bump into the sink. You slightly winced in pain before looking at her angrily. But Jihyo couldn’t be bothered, she stepped closer to you, leaving your faces only inches apart.

“Watch it, before you get hurt.”

She gritted through her teeth, but you didn’t even think about standing down to her. You were about to talk back when the bell rang, indicating that classes would start soon.

“Lucky you.”

Jihyo chuckled, giving her friends the sign to leave with her. She definitely had to test your limits. Who knew? Maybe she had finally found someone equal to her.

Mina

She hadn’t always been like this, Mina thought. As a child, she was a nice little girl, polite to everyone. But now, she had become a mean girl. Maybe it was because of all the private schools her parents sent her to. She was only surrounded by rich, spoiled kids that looked down on anyone that didn’t wear Chanel or Gucci. And slowly Mina assimilated to her surroundings.

So when you started attending her school, Mina wrinkled her nose in disgust. You had earned your spot because of a scholarship and not because of the money of your parents. You were the only one running around in no name shoes and with a backpack that you probably owned since elementary school. Her friends and her denigrated you every day, not caring that you obviously overheard their conversations. You tried not letting it show, but Mina could read people too well to not notice how you were slowly crumbling underneath their torture.

But over time, Mina couldn’t ignore the inner voice anymore, telling her that her hatred for you was fake. She didn’t care that your school uniform was a little worn-out or that you didn’t own 50 pairs of shoes like everyone else. What she cared about was that you were a genuinely nice person. No matter how much everyone tormented you, you didn’t shy back from helping your tormentors. If it was by tutoring lessons or letting them copy your homework.

Mina was intrigued. As hard as she tried to stay away from you, she found herself circling around you more and more often. Of course, she didn’t let it show, but being close to you, made her feel better. Just your pure proximity made her feel like she could be one of the good ones, too. Eventually.

But she could never get too close to you. She was toxic. And she couldn’t destroy your purity. Therefore, she needed to push you away. You would survive her torture, but you wouldn’t survive her touch, because everything she touched, wilted.

Dahyun

Since she could think, Dahyun was the one known for her impeccable sense of humor. But somehow, she developed from the class clown to the bully. Everyone always expected more and more until she started to make jokes at the expense of other people. Because nothing made people laugh more than the suffering of others. Dayhun didn’t really like to hurt other people, but as long as she could make people laugh and secure her spot as the popular kid, she would do whatever was necessary.

But that began to change when you showed up in her life. You had transferred schools in the middle of the school year, so of course you had probably already expected to have a tough start. Dahyun really wanted to spare you from her torture. No one had ever managed to make her feel this way. But she was too afraid to lose her reputation, so she started to make jokes at your expense too.

“Are you always this stupid or is today a special occasion?”

No matter what you said, Dahyun always twisted your words, making you seem like an idiot. She nervously chuckled at her own jokes, pretending like she enjoyed every second of the attention on her, even though she felt like dying inside.

Her inner conflict reached its peak when she went to the restroom one day and heard you crying in one of the stalls. She stood there like glued to the spot, listening to your sobs and feeling her heart break with every second. She wanted to wrap her arms around you and hold you to make it better, but it was too late. How could she ever make up for what she did?

Chaeyoung

Chaeyoung didn’t particularly enjoy torturing people, she just wanted to show the world that she didn’t care about society’s standards and that she could do whatever she wanted to. Therefore, she and her friends did all kind of mischievous things. Spraying walls, slitting tires or stealing the stuff of other people to scatter them in the whole school. They didn’t have anything against the particular persons, it was just fun to see the faces of the authorities.

But then you came along.

You had caught her eye, the first time that she had seen you. But you were just such an unlucky person. You always ended up being one of the victims of her friends’ and her malefactions. Your stuff always fell into their hands and Chaeyoung started to become angry. She didn’t like bullying you. Why couldn’t you manage to stay away from her friends and her?

One day, they were searching for trouble again and they found your unlocked bike. It was literally an invitation. Together they heaved it into a tree and when you exited school, everyone laughed at you, making you blush profoundly. That’s when Chaeyoung snapped. She waited until her friends left before storming up to you.

“Why can’t you be more careful?? Just stop getting into my way!!”

She yelled into your face and you flinched in surprise. Chaeyoung could see your confusion. Of course, you couldn’t understand why your tormentor was yelling at you to stop being tormented. Suddenly realizing how close she was standing in front of you, Chaeyoung realized that this was actually the first time that she talked to you and a blush started to spread on her cheeks. Not wanting you to see it, however, she quickly turned around, sprinting away like she was chased by a wild animal.

Tzuyu

Tzuyu had just somehow ended up in the wrong group of friends. Because she had such a cold demeanor and could admittedly deliver pretty snarky comments, mean people were attracted to her. They always thought that she was one of them. Even if it wasn’t true. But having mean friends, was better than having no friends, Tzuyu thought, so she became part of the popular, but mean clique in school. Mostly, they settled for psychological terror, but sometimes they also executed mean pranks like stealing the clothes from the freshmen out of the locker room, so at least one of them had to run around school naked.

But you weren’t like her friends at all. You were rather quiet and didn’t care about what people said about you. Tzuyu secretly admired you. It was fascinating that you chose to have no friends instead of being someone that you were not. But of course, it also meant that you were the perfect victim for her clique. They liked to throw ugly comments at you or shove you in the hallway. But whenever it was Tzuyu’s turn to torture you, she made sure that you didn’t know it was her. That way, her friends were still satisfied with her performance, but perhaps you didn’t hate her that much.

That was until her friends forced Tzuyu to empty her drink into your backpack while you had to leave the classroom shortly. She was just showing her friends triumphally that her cup was empty when you entered the room again, looking at her in shock. Your eyes bored right through her and Tzuyu quickly stopped smirking. Of course, she didn’t let it show how hurt she was, but the rest of the day, she was even quieter than usual. When she came home, she laid on her bed, wordlessly staring at the ceiling, not being able to shake the thought of your hurt expression off her mind. She tried to block out the thought of you hating her now, but somehow, she didn’t succeed, and her heart started to ache subtly.

[messinwitheddie]

so what do irkens do for entertainment, besides the blood sports? do they even have any?

Zim "Most forms of entertainment you humans enjoy, we have our own version of it, but...you know, better. The exception is fiction. We seldomly engage in fictional narrative through any media. There is no film industry in the Irken empire. Acting is an artform reserved for war reenactments, plays written by ancient tallests and, historical events, things of that nature. Televised programming is heavily censored. Drawing, painting or depicting the Irken form in general is rarely permitted on screen. Animated programming is nonexistent. Our televised streaming almost entirely consists of live newsfeed and coverage on special events. Declaring war, tallest jubilees, the knighting of frylords to new snacking systems are events usually televised; you get the idea.

Snacking is the most popular recreational activity. It is considered the one activity that transcends rank. Any class of Irken may enjoy snacks. If nothing else, every drone enjoys that ten minutes off the clock to munch on their favorite treats.

Playing video games is the second most popular. Stats are taken VERY seriously. Zim has loved video games since I was a smeet! The biggest arcade in my home solar system is on Conventia. The biggest arcade system In the empire to date is Casino Major. You could call it our "Las Vegas". RPGs and sims are a new concept to me introduced by you humans. Irken video games rarely have a fictional narrative and do not allow for world building or character construction.

Our games focus more on puzzle solving, physical challenges and melee combat simulation. And yes, we gamble. For some of us, it's addicting.

I can take or leave them personally, but Irkens as a general rule, enjoy sports. BloodSport is probably the oldest and most brutal combat sport in our culture. Always a good fight to the death to watch in BloodSport. Aerial boxing is another popular game. Late Miyuki was actually an anthlete-class boxer before she was measured. Sting-Ball... the best way I can describe it in familiar human terms, is an aerial hybrid of dodgeball and quidditch. Sting Ball is arguably the least bloody of our contact sports, but if you get knocked out of the air, it isn't pretty. Tallest Red and Purple never went pro before being measured, but Purple probably could have. He's a peice of work, but he can throw...

It isn't technically legal, but spittle runner racing is popular among elite pilots. Red was into spittle racing for a while, but had to quit after he was measured a tallest.

There is blood blade racing, similar to human roller derby, which is fairly new and popular among our females for some reason. The frylords compete in gladiatorial cookoffs whenever the opportunity to claim a new snacking system arises. I...missed Gir's first big cookoff. He's still pretty mad about it.

Many Irkens manage to squeeze in time for hobbies. Age is not a factor. We like collecting...crap, all kinds of crap; electronic devices, dolls, stimming toys, souvenirs, useless knickknacks, shiny bobble-doodads...crap. We collect crap. We just do.

There are classes offored on Irk, conventia and Devastis young cadets can sign up to take in order to learn crafts and minor trades. They offor lessons on sewing, glass blowing, cosmotology, welding, sculpting, game design, things of that nature. The classes won't advance you in the military, but many Irkens crave the satisfaction of learning and making things with their hands. We are a naturally active species that no longer sleeps or mates. We like to occupy ourselves, however raw creativity is...rare and not encouraged, but we're capable of it. Talent is not unique to your species. Every Irken has a talent. Having the drive and opportunities to best utilize your mother-control brained assigned talent is another issue.

Gir is a great cook and will be a master frylord one day. Yeet spins her own silk and makes dolls and trinkets. Skoodge is a gifted strategist. His talents are wasted. Never tell him I said that.

Zim is an Irken of MANY, many talents and a master of nearly all of them! Tech modification is both a favorite talent and a hobby of mine. I guess some count my singing as a talent, but I don't. No one wants to hear a short drone sing and even if they do, they don't really listen.

The praise I get for singing is hollow. It has always been a waste of my energy. Zim would rather not be remembered than be remembered as a jester.

Performing arts is considered the lowest form of entertainment in our empire. Theaters are strictly operated by volunteers who simply love what they do, which is waste time. Irkens go to theaters to sing, dance, play music, and so on. They put on concerts, circus acts and variety shows. Sometimes they're good. They're usually horrible. Zim has not stepped foot in a theater since I was a cadet and I will not anytime soon. Trust me."

(Sorry for the slow reply to this one, but I really wanted to explore it ^^.)

[blurry-fics]

Chapter Seventeen

Realize That It’s Gone | Series Masterlist

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 2331

Author’s Note: I just wanted to take a quick moment to say thank you to everyone who left comments on the last chapter because your reactions were absolutely priceless and I had a great time reading all of them :) and even if you didn’t comment, thank you for taking the time to read! Also, it’s worth mentioning that this post right here inspired a scene in this chapter and, as a result, affected the way things played out. Anyway, with that being said, I hope you enjoy this chapter :) (picture credit)

You slammed the front door behind you and leaned against it, immediately burying your face in your hands. Now that you were home, safe behind a closed door, you let out all the sobs that you had so carefully been keeping in. Tears were freely streaming down your face, soaking the sleeves of Tyler’s sweatshirt.

Tyler’s stupid sweatshirt.

You tugged the sweatshirt off your body - nearly pulling your t-shirt off with it - and tossed it into a heap at the bottom of the stairs. Chucking it at the ground loosened the knot in your stomach a little, just from allowing yourself to release a little tension. Now that the sweatshirt was off, you stomped up the stairs and let Georgie out of the laundry room. He immediately went sprinting past your feet and down the stairs.

Your brain was so muddled with thoughts that you couldn’t quite work out which emotion you were feeling. All you knew was that crying was the only thing making you feel a little calmer right now, so that’s what you were going to continue to do. Besides, you were home alone so it’s not like you were going to bother anyone.

You decided to get in bed and stay there until you finished crying. Nothing was going to be able to get you out of bed. Not even when you inevitably heard Tyler’s car start up as he finally left your house. Not Georgie knocking something over downstairs. Nothing. You were going to stay here until your tears were dried and you finally felt like you could get a clear thought through your head.

You were still in bed an hour later, although your tears had stopped long before that. As it turned out, wrapping yourself up in blankets - even despite the hot weather - was a good way to calm yourself down. Your thoughts were slowly beginning to work themselves out.

With a small grunt, you threw the blankets off of your body and decided to see what damage Georgie had caused downstairs. He had been surprisingly quiet, which you figured was more likely a bad sign than a good one. Still, you found yourself hoping you wouldn’t have to spend the next twenty minutes cleaning up some mess.

To your surprise, Georgie was curled up on the sweatshirt that you had tossed aside, fast asleep. He didn’t even stir when you arrived at the bottom of the stairs. Your shoulders instantly relaxed. At least that was one thing that you didn’t have to worry about.

The rain had picked up again while you were in your room. It was harder tonight, coming at the house sideways and soaking most of the deck. Sitting on the deck and enjoying the sound was out of the question, unless you wanted to end up soaked straight through your clothes. Instead, you decided to grab yourself some fruit and sit in the den where you could hear the rain pattering against the skylight.

Your mind wandered as you carefully sliced up strawberries. Tyler was in love with you. It was true, and you could repeat it to yourself as many times as you wanted. Even if there was still a whole mess for you to sort through, the thought of Tyler returning your feelings was enough to make your heart skip a beat.

He loved you. He loved you. He loved you.

The joy only lasted so long before you began to think of Josh. You had gotten his hopes up about the prospect of a relationship, only to realize that you were still in love with his best friend the entire time. That wasn’t so bad - some bad judgement on your part, sure - but it could be easily explained. People were unaware of their true feelings all the time, and that’s exactly what had happened to you.

But now, Tyler was involved.

What was Josh going to think if you told him you didn’t feel the same and then immediately ran into Tyler’s arms? It was going to seem like you toyed with his feelings just for fun, which had never been your intention. Josh was a great guy and you would have been totally happy with him if the circumstances were different, but as long as Tyler was around you should have known he was the one that was always going to have your heart.

Tears started to pool in your eyes again, so you stepped away from your fruit and began to fan your eyes. You weren’t entirely sure that it was going to do anything effective, but at least it gave you some form of distraction from thinking about how terrible of a person you were.

Ok, so maybe it wasn’t totally working.

You eventually managed to calm down and go back to making a nice fruit salad for yourself. There was no way for you to predict how Josh was going to react in this situation. Tyler might have talked to him about the whole thing without you knowing. Maybe that’s why Tyler had finally confessed in the first place.

You found yourself wishing that you hadn’t left Tyler alone on the sidewalk, but you also knew that it had been the right choice. Your thoughts had still been muddled and you had been angry - you still were a little upset, if you were being honest - and you hadn’t wanted to say something you would end up regretting. At the very least, you wished you had given him a chance to explain himself. He had looked so distraught when you exploded on him, and you hadn’t even given him the entirety of your side of the story.

You sighed. There were a lot of things that still had to be worked out, it seemed.

Once your fruit was cut up and everything was back in the fridge or cleaned up, you started to make your way back up the stairs. Georgie was still fast asleep on the sweatshirt.

“Hey, Georgie-bean,” you said, using the nickname you saved only for when he was being particularly sweet. “Can you get off my sweatshirt, please?”

Nothing.

“Georgie,” you whined. “Wake up!”

Georgie suddenly blinked awake and rolled onto his feet. He looked at you for a moment before running upstairs.

“Typical,” you muttered as you scooped up the hoodie and tucked it under your arm.

You grabbed a heap of blankets from your room and carried them into the den with you. Georgie was already in there, playing with some toy that he had managed to get stuck under the couch. He didn’t seem to mind as you collapsed down on the cushions and wrapped yourself up, leaving only your head and one arm exposed so that you could still eat your fruit.

You put on your favorite TV show to try and keep your mind occupied, but you still found yourself thinking over all the things you could have done differently to avoid this situation. You could have trusted your gut about your feelings for Tyler. Or you could have grilled him harder when he freaked out about your date with Josh, which you now realized he had almost definitely lied about being ok with for your sake. You could have even called him out when you had your big argument back in March when he claimed to only flirt with you because he felt bad - another lie.

Although you were upset with Tyler for how he had handled this entire situation, the person that you were really upset with was yourself. You knew Tyler almost as well as you knew yourself, so you should have recognized when he was lying to you. Then again, you trusted Tyler more than anyone. Why would you question the words coming out of his mouth?

You groaned and leaned further back into the couch. This was exactly why you had told him you needed time to work this entire situation out in your head. Every time that you thought you had figured out an answer, a new question decided that it needed to take its place.

You were about to exit your blanket nest and carry your bowl back downstairs when Georgie hopped up on the couch. He wasn’t running around, which was a surprise, but rather slowly making his way towards you. After a brief stretch, he climbed into your lap and made himself comfortable on the pile of blankets covering you. It was a rare occurrence that Georgie stayed still long enough to cuddle with you, so you knew there was no way you were moving from your spot now.

In fact, the combo of a cat in your lap, the rain hitting the skylight, your favorite show playing, and the blankets surrounding you proved to be the perfect thing to lull you into a calm sleep.

*     *     *

You were jolted awake by your alarm. At least, that’s what you thought it was until you grabbed your phone and realized that you were getting a phone call. It took you a second to read the name of the person calling; your eyes were still blurry from your impromptu nap.

Tyler.

You sighed and tossed your phone back down on the couch. Your tired state paired with the emotions of earlier that evening were far from ideal conditions to be talking to Tyler after your argument, if you could call it that. Instead, you just let the phone ring until it eventually stopped.

The clock in the corner of the room read 10:30, so you figured it was as good a time as any to start getting ready for bed. Georgie had already left your lap - probably to make a mess now that you were no longer aware of what he was doing - and Netflix had been asking you if you were still watching for an indefinite amount of time. You shut the TV off and slowly carried the blankets back down the hall to your room.

Georgie was already in your room, it turned out, once again curled up on your sweatshirt from Tyler. You took a moment to admire him, peacefully stretched out on the bit of dark fabric. It would no doubt be covered in cat hair the next time you decided to wear it, but it was worth it if it meant he was calm and asleep. It wasn’t often that he didn’t make a mess in the middle of the night.

You quickly got ready for bed, wanting nothing more than to be under your covers and listening to the rain quietly dripping from the roof as you fell asleep. Despite your nap not even ten minutes ago, you were still exhausted and ready to shut your brain off. All the overthinking and crying had really taken it out of you, it seemed.

There was a notification on your phone when you picked it up off the couch - a voicemail from Tyler. You decided it would have to wait until you were in bed and about to go to sleep, just in case he said something that would make you emotional again. Crying as you set up fans and put some music on didn’t really sound ideal.

It was a relief when you finally crawled under the covers. Your music - a CD that had your favorite slow songs off of Tyler’s three albums - was playing at the perfect volume and your fans were pointed directly at you, keeping you from getting too hot while you slept. The rain had picked up a little, too, making it easier to hear through your open window.

You grabbed your phone and went to your voicemails. It took you a second to work up the courage to hit play on the one Tyler had sent, but once you brought your phone to your ear you knew there was no going back. Hopefully it was something nice and not him being upset with you.

“Um, hi, Y/N,” he started. “I know that you said you wanted space, and I respect that - I promise this will be the only call and voicemail you’ll get from me - but I just wanted to tell you again that I’m so sorry about how I handled this. Hopefully it will make more sense when I explain myself, whenever that is. Yeah, I, uh, should have told you how I felt a long time ago. I’m sorry for all the time we missed out on because of it. But, I just wanted you to know that… what I said… it’s all true.” There was a pause and you could hear Tyler take a shaky breath. “I love you. I mean it.”

The voicemail ended and you stared at the ceiling for a moment, taking in everything that he had said. Happiness bubbled in your chest for just a moment before it subsided again. You brought your phone in front of your face, rewinding the voicemail so that you could listen to it a second time. And then a third. And a fourth.

You eventually turned your phone off and plugged it into its charger next to the bed, knowing that you couldn’t just listen to the voicemail all night. Your eyes were starting to get heavy and the rain was doing nothing to help your tired state. After one final glance at Georgie to make sure he was still fast asleep, you laid down and got comfortable on your pillows. Lovely came on right as you shut your eyes.

Your mouth curled up into a small smile as you listened to the lyrics. It was a song that Tyler had sworn he hadn’t written for you, but given his newfound history of lying about things when it came to you, you were beginning to think that wasn’t entirely true. For a moment, you forgot about all the worries in your head and just thought about Tyler.

You fell asleep with his words echoing in your head.

I love you. I mean it.

*     *     *     *     *

Taglist

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[mvsicismyaeroplane]

“you’re dead to us.” – self para ( emiliano colucci )

december 1, 2019; 7:45 am

(note: this is all ‘spoken’ in italian, but it’s written in english)

six laps. then seven. then eight. then before he knows it, he’s running three miles for a decent warm up, right before playing a match with none other than alessio de luna, his first ever love.

he can’t help the smirk that plays on his lips when he’s scoring against him for the third time already. the match soon comes to an end, and he’s oh so happy because he won.

truth be told, emiliano doesn’t like tennis, but he plays mostly just to satisfy his parents. plus, the traveling is great, and he’s quite good at it too. he would much rather spend his time playing something like soccer, or just exercising for fun, but that’s sadly not his choice to make.

“alright guys! great practice today, i’ll see you all again here tomorrow at 6 am!” emiliano gives coach a high five before grabbing his bag and swinging it over his shoulder. he takes a long gulp from his water bottle and starts walking.

it’s not long before he feels someone grab him from the waist from behind. 

“where are you going, blue eyes?” that’s the voice he loves so damn much.

at this point, he’s holding back a smile, because he knows what’s coming. this is by far his favorite part of the day, because his parents are gone until late, and that means he gets to sneak him into his house and do all the cute boyfriend things together, and the dirty too.

“i don’t know, home maybe?” he loves playing this game with him, acting like he’s clueless when he very well knows what’s coming.

“without me? i’m hurt.” alessio steps in front of him, a stupid, wide smirk planted on his lips.

emiliano is about to say something, but he can’t even get around to it. they’re kissing slowly at first, but it soon becomes needy and desperate. emiliano is bringing his free hand to come around alessio’s neck, tongues dancing in an unsteady waltz, slight panting, but it all comes to an end too soon.

“i could kiss you all day...” alessio claims, his thumb running across emiliano’s bottom lip.

he never gets needy ever, but he swears, with alessio it’s a different story. he wants nothing more than to go behind the bushes and rip his clothes off, but he knows they have to wait until they get to his house.

“come on, we’ll go to my house, watch a movie, shower together... arm wrestle–”

“oh, shut up! you’re cute and all but you know i have you beat with that. besides, i was hoping more along the lines of ‘making love’.”

emiliano rolls his eyes, “what do you think i meant when i said arm wrestle? like, you think we’re actually going to arm wrestle?”

he feels a light shove, which just causes him to laugh. now, they’re walking hand in hand, strolling along the italian streets. as they come closer and closer to his house (more like mansion), emiliano has to stop right there.

“isn’t that... your dad’s car?” alessio asks, obviously just as confused as he is.

“i don’t get it. he’s never home at this time. no one is...” he doesn’t know why, but he’s got a really bad feeling about this.

“i’m just gonna go home then babe, text me when they leave so i can come see you.” he presses a soft kiss to his lips, but emiliano is too focused on his father’s car to even say anything back.

he can hear alessio’s footsteps walking away from him, going farther and farther until it’s inaudible.

emiliano lets out a breath and walks to his front door, taking out his key and opening it. it’s dead quiet, too quiet for comfort. emiliano clears his throat. 

“dad?!” he calls out, hearing his voice echo throughout the place.

he can hear footsteps coming from the stairs, and soon, he see’s his father.

“emiliano, there’s something i want to show you that your mother and i found very interesting. we were hoping you could give us your input. get up here, now.” his tone is absolutely monotone, but demanding at the same time.

emiliano doesn’t need to be told twice. he drops his bag and climbs up the stairs, to where his father leads him to... his room?

“dad, this is my room–”

“just sit.” and he does just that, flopping onto his bed and giving his father a puzzled expression.

surprisingly, his father comes to sit right beside him, grabs his control remote, and turns on the tv.

“now, i just want you to tell me what this is.” now, he’s switching to the dvd preference, and as soon as the video comes on the screen, emiliano feels his insides grow cold.

he feels like throwing up, crying, jumping out the window, any terrible, negative emotion that you can think of came rushing to him right that very moment. he wants the earth to swallow him whole. he could die right here and it still wouldn’t be enough to get him out of this.

on the screen is none other than him and alessio. at first, they’re making out wildly, but it gets more intense from there. it’s not long before they’re having sex, alessio practically pounding into him. all the dirty talking, the sex toys, just how damn submissive emiliano had been that night, it really came back to haunt him.

his hand is placed over his mouth, lips parted open, and at this point, he’s fully shaking, silent tears streaming down his eyes. he’s mortified, and he’s also terrified, because he knows what’s going to happen.

it goes on for another minute before his father is shutting it off, standing up, and looking right down at him.

emiliano is absolutely, a hundred percent afraid to look his way. he let’s out a pained breath, a whimper, before turning up to look at him, oceanic blue eyes looking at crystal colored hues.

“dad, just–” there’s no way he can escape this. he doesn’t even get to explain himself before he feels a smack being thrown to his face. a smack so damn powerful, his head turns to the side and he winces in pain, hand holding onto his cheek.

it doesn’t end there, that’s for sure. in fact, emiliano knows it’s barely even started. the fact that his father is wearing a ring makes it even more painful.

a loud punch is being swung to his face again, then again, then again, then again, and at this point, emiliano is crying out in pain, on the ground, as his father continues to kick him and punch him everywhere.

the pain is absolutely indescribable. with each hit, each kick, emiliano can feel his father’s wrath, his disappointment, and the physical pain is way too much to handle.

he can feel himself bleeding, feel himself slowly lose his consciousness with each hit thrown his way, but he knows it’s not over until he says it’s over, and begging him to stop will only make it worse.

soon, he feels him grab a fistful of his hair, forcing him to sit up. his face is dripping in blood, so much, he can barely even see, and he feels himself grow weak, wanting to pass out.

“tell me.”

“d-dad p-p-please–” his voice sounds so far away, so strained, and he’s struggling so hard to not burst out in tears, struggling so hard to stay awake, to stay strong, but another kick to his stomach comes, and he cries out.

“tell me what the bible says emiliano, tell me now!”

he’s shaking again, forcing back choked sobs, “l-leviticus 20:13 If... a man lies with a m-male as with a woman, both of... them have committed an.... abomination; they shall surely be put to death; their blood is upon them...” he can barely get that out, he’s stuttering, his voice sounds like it’s in pain.

“what else?”

he swallows hard, knowing very well that if he doesn’t say it, it’s just going to be worse for him.

“1 corinthians 6:9-10 or... do you not know that the unrighteous will not...” a pause, a shaky breath, “inherit the kingdom of god? d-do not be deceived: neither the sexually immoral, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, n-nor men who... practice homosexuality, nor thieves, nor the greedy, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor swindlers... w-will inherit the kingdom of god...”

“and if you know all of this, why the fuck would you do what you did?!” he doesn’t answer, he can’t, but it’s not long before he’s being hit all over again, dragged down the stairs, getting punched and kicked over and over again because he likes boys.

“WHY WOULD YOU DISHONOR US LIKE THIS?! AFTER ALL WE’VE DONE FOR YOU! EVERYTHING! YOU’RE A DISGRACE EMILIANO! AN ABSOLUTE,” kick, “FUCKING,” kick, “DISGRACE!”

he swears, it’s going to keep going, and he’s going to pass out, but it’s like god heard his prayers, because the front door swings open, and his father finally comes to a halt.

emiliano is in too much pain to even see who it is. he’s bleeding so much, it should be illegal. his vision is blurred with blood and tears, and most importantly, he’s hurting so much, it’s actually insane.

“did you get it?” he can hear his father say, but he’s just on the ground, covered in his own blood, too fucked out of it to even do anything but just lay there.

“of course i did.” it’s his mother’s voice, he can tell.

“good,” he can hear his father’s footsteps walk towards him, and he swears he’s going to get beat again, but what happens next is possibly the worst moment of his life so far, hands down.

“you’re moving to the states, with your cousin, far, far away from here, emiliano,” his hands run through emiliano’s hair, but it’s far too rough to even be considered a gentle gesture.

“we’re keeping your cellphone, your computer, anything that contacts you with the outside world. your accounts have been disabled, your flight leaves in two days,” his mother’s voice, “you’re never seeing that boy again, or any of your friends ever again. forget about your life here because it’s over, it’s done. we’re very disappointed in you, emiliano. after everything we’ve done for you, we would expect more from you, but it ends here. you don’t know anyone over there, a fresh start, a start that hopefully doesn’t begin with sin. you’re disgusting son, god doesn’t want this for you.” he can hear her high heels click against the granite floor, meaning she walked away.

“clean up this mess. and just so we’re clear...” his father trails off, coming right by his ear, “you’re dead to us.” with that, his footsteps walk away, and he’s left alone.

as soon as he knows that they’re gone, it all comes pouring out of him. he’s full on sobbing at this point. it’s a mixture of tears and blood, he’s shaking and crying, he’s definitely hit rock bottom, that’s for sure. the physical pain is terrible, absolutely unbearable, but the emotional pain? that would haunt him forever. he would physically heal, but he would remember this day for the rest of his life, he was sure of that.

nothing would heal this type of trauma. merry early christmas.

[ohelleno]

Waking Sleep

A New Cycle

     Do you remember the first time you slept the whole night through? We’re not supposed to, but I can. Between their screaming matches, his putting holes in the walls, and her throwing whatever she can get her hands on at whomever is around, it’s impossible.

     Being in the crib was the worst -- at night I could only lay there, vulnerable and cold, right next to the tension between them. During the day, I was often forgotten there and left in a sleeping position until one set the alarm and then jerked a door or window open in anticipation of other sirens. There was nowhere to run. There was no way to shield my ears. I could do nothing but cycle through inborn responses. The first reaction was something somewhere between a scream and a smile, tears streaming down my face and staining the white sheets beneath. But the little wall-bound box of clamor was undaunted. I was so small -- how could I have stopped it? How could I have escaped to a safe place? Did some such thing even exist? What if it didn’t? With every note from the siren, I was pulled further into a cold pool. I was trading blasts now. With each one lost from my chest, it carried on even louder. I could no longer move. I was just a camera with no memory card, pointlessly recording life above me as I sank.

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Blinking, Drifting, Drowning

     As the evening progresses, they’ve taken to shutting me in my room. There’s nothing on the walls but a stark white crucifix. The closet is shallow and full of beloved toys and blankets that melt into inky, amorphous monsters. Changing outlines creep up the walls and onto the ceiling, trying to drown out the warm glow of the orangey nightlight. 

     Over the course of our few years together, we bonded over our see-through glass bodies. He didn’t change as the sun outside the blinds left us. Even so, the bulb inside of him has been flickering more and more. Our contact wires spark with each attempt to fight off the inevitable. Each flash is a brief death and with every submersion, the hanging man becomes a pendulum. Internal twine sparks to life and a shadow rises to an invisible point before falling as it disappears. Filament burns brightest when it cuts out for good. He gives me a spark more luminous than the first time he was plugged in and for a moment, the taunting corpse and the creeps return to their original forms. 

     But we all know what follows. The bulb has evenly, neatly, steadily given up. I cling to the wires conducting their last waves while the shadows stretch to their innermost depths. The hanged man’s grotesquely extended form retreats to the inflection point and stays there for a moment. And then we are all swallowed.

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A Present, I am Her Favorite Color

     By this point, I know that neither in nor out are safe, so out the door I go. There’s a linen alcove just outside and it’s there where she keeps the porcelain fairies. They are small and delicate. That’s all there is to them and they are the only thing I have to guard me. He would often rant that she wasn’t always like this. That when I was born and the doctor told her I was a girl, it was as if a latent obsession had blossomed with the thin petals sprouting from their shoulder blades. I wonder how long it will be before she grabs for them too. I’ve heard in passing that there used to be more of them, but now there are only three. When she reaches out, it is only to destroy. Just like her mother. 

     I come to the end of the narrow, blank hall where the path branches. There are other rooms -- other people’s lives and a staircase leading down. The rooms are sealed and locked; the people inside them are as sheltered as they can get. They are much older and when things get bad, they can simply leave. And even if they stayed, they would never be hit for fear that they would hit back. But I am much too small, even for my age, so I am a victim of circumstance. The heart is a bullseye and mine bounces off my little frame even more by comparison. Neither up nor down are safe so down I go.

     It’s Christmas day after all. Under the tree and among the boxes is where my bones are hidden. For now, they are connected. Useful. They change color with the lights and for a moment, I think that this is a safe haven. But the warmth always leaves with the hues that get caught in the needles. Voices spiral down the stairs and among the boughs. I am pulled out and unwrapped. The bow is fluid and graceful. It unravels and tangles around this body’s limbs the more that it is pulled. Who was I? How could I know?

     She delights in draining the red away and lacing me back up in white. For shoes meant to glide on top of ice, they feel like cement. They’ll keep me grounded in the depths where I can watch the light. This didn’t have to be her place, but it was. And now she’s made it mine. I wonder if I’ll ever be with the others in the light.

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A Note Before a Full Collapse...

     “What am I doing? Who am I? I’ve spent the past 20 years living someone else’s life. If I keep going, I’ll always be playing catch-up. I’ll never know who I am. But if I stop, you get the consolation prize of knowing that I couldn’t survive your abuse. You get to decide how to dispose of my body. It’s all I ever had.

     And the worst part is that it was for nothing. For all Your determination to use my body, we never got anywhere. It figures: as much as You were raping my frame void of my own identity, you didn’t have one of Your own to fill it with.

     Do you hear me? You never amounted to anything -- You’ll always be nobody. You took everything I had and gained nothing from it. Yet You keep trying. 

     Now I know why You do this. The empty glass bottles reached for under the couch, the years of your spine snaking and compacting to hide -- to invent somewhere to go: It’s what She did to You. The not-so-far-off rifle fire, the scarf tied over Her mouth to shut her up after finding stained faces in the crawlspace of Her family’s farmhouse -- to invent someone to blame: It’s what They did to Her.

     I want to believe that there’s some way to stop this. I know I’m not alone. You weren’t the only ones. We weren’t the only ones. When the body is in pieces, others will see this and I will live on through them!”

     A neighbor claims that he passed her in the hall on his way out for class. He said it looked as though she was hurrying towards the top floor. When we arrived, we found a surreal creature that looked to be a cross between a rag doll and an artist’s mannequin. At first, she looked languid and content to have joined with the asphalt. But when the coroner went to pick her up, she segmented at the joints and dissolved from his hands.

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...Or She Escaped on Impact

     “There’s a train leaving town in an hour. It’s not waiting for you and neither am I. That line has nagged at me as much as She has since I first heard it. I tried to ignore it, to act as though it was just a line in a song. And now we will forever be connected, each letter forming a fence around a face that was supposed to be my own in a book. Does anyone actually look back at these?

     I guess it wouldn’t matter. I don’t look like me. Why don’t I look like me?! Who am I? What am I supposed to look like!?

     It doesn’t have to be like this. I don’t have to get by just for them now. That piece of paper the principal handed me tells me so. If I’m just a body, then I can slip out the door and they would never find me. It doesn’t matter where I go -- I will be born into life after death. I will heed the song’s advice. I will do more than just survive for once; I will live regardless.”

     When I found her, she was folded in on herself under a row of seats. It was uncanny. Both trains were moving so fast when they met that everyone else in the first car was either a charred, vague suggestion of humanity or in too many pieces to ever tell which set of desperate loved ones they belonged to. If anyone knew who she was, she could have been identified. But not a single parent or brother or best friend had come forward demanding we tell them that a teenage girl had survived.

     I was hoping the diary clutched in her hands would tell me who she was. Unfortunately, all but one of the pages were as white and unstained as the small fingers that held them.