#would we have just turned around then or what?
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hoshifighting · 3 days ago
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Hello,
So I was wondering, would you be able to write something about cock-warming with Seventeen? If not OT13, then maybe just Hoshi?
This is my first time making a request and I absolutely love your writing! I look forward to seeing your new posts every time I open the app!
Thank you 😊
cock warming with seventeen
seungcheol: he’s gritting his teeth, telling you to “sit still” ina scolding tone. man is holding on for dear life, hands on your hips, fully committed to the whole “stay still” command even though he’s just as worked up. he gives you this look that says “one wrong move and it’s over”—yet he’s lowkey loving how hard it is to keep himself together. eventually, you shift just a little and he’s like, “oh, you think you’re funny, huh?” ready to wreck you right then and there.
jeonghan: he’s the absolute worst tease about it. why would you choose HIM to do that? he got that little smirk, acting all unbothered, whispering about how needy you look just sitting there on him. he’ll brush his fingers over your hips, trailing them up your spine just to mess with you. every time you try to move, he’s like, “uh-uh, baby, stay still.” you know he’s having fun watching you squirm, and he’s definitely making it as drawn-out as possible.
joshua: gives you sweet little smiles while low-key dying inside. he’s got that hand on the small of your back, running his fingers there just to keep you close. he’ll whisper all these sweet nothings, telling you how “perfect” you are, and every time you clench or move a little, he shudders, just waiting for the second he can actually move.
junhui: oh, he’s got no patience. he’s sitting there, already hard as hell, and you’re making it worse with every tiny shift. he laughs it off, biting his lip, telling you you’re “gonna regret testing him.” jun’s the type to nudge your hips a little, just to get a reaction, muttering stuff like, “if you keep doing that, don’t blame me for what happens.” he’s a mess and doesn’t even last.
hoshi: he’s like, “why did we even think this was a good idea?” wiggling around, not even pretending to keep still. every little movement makes him lose it just a bit more, and he’s already breathing heavy, wet as fuck. you both know he’s absolutely hopeless at staying still, but the boy’s trying, just loving the fact that you’re driving him up the wall.
wonwoo: he’s calm on the outside, hands steady on your hips, acting like it’s all fine and dandy, but you can feel that bro is almost melting in that game chair. every time you move, he’s biting the inside of his cheek, giving you these intense, dark-eyed looks like, “don’t test me.” he’ll stay like that as long as he can, but little to go snapping.
woozi: this man is a brick wall, hands locked around your waist, practically daring you to move. he’s got a total death grip on his self-control but gives himself away every time he swallows hard or clenches his jaw. determined to make you stay still until he’s ready.
minghao: so de-stressed, it’s unreal. he’s got his hands tracing gentle circles on your back, just enjoying the closeness but totally into it. every time you shift, he just hums, getting more and more fired up. you can tell he’s feeling it, breathing deeper, pressing you closer, but he’ll still try to play it off. he’s in no rush but is totally giving in soon.
mingyu: man’s a mess, plain and simple. he’s holding onto your hips with his nails almsot, wide-eyed and flustered as hell. he tries to be the big and strong boyy he is, but every little move makes him gulp, giving you these desperate, needy looks. probably ends up blurting, about how much he needs to fuck you.
seokmin: so flustered, you’d think it’s his first time. he’s trying to stay calm, keeping his hands on your hips to keep you in place, but he can’t help it; every time you shift, he’s turning red, letting out little gasps, unable to keep himself from reacting. he’s all, “oh my god, please, just—stay still!”
seungkwan: so worked up, it’s ridiculous. he’s like, “this was the worst idea ever babe!” but his hands are glued to you, like he couldn’t move even if he wanted to. he’s torn between panic and total enjoyment, all red-faced and muttering how he’s “seriously trying here.” you can tell he’s struggling, giving you little pleading looks.
vernon: silent but done for. he’ll just sit there, eyes wide, hardly breathing as he holds onto you, doing his best to stay in control but you can see the struggle. every little movement you make has him gripping your hips harder, like he’s hanging on by a thread. probably mutters, “you’re evil,” under his breath, fully aware he’s about to cum like this.
chan: incredibly sweet, probably nervous but also very into it. he’ll laugh softly, maybe trying to make small talk just to keep both of you calm, but the longer you stay like that, the more it drives him crazy. he’ll whisper, asking if you’re okay, gently reminding you to stay still but clearly enjoying when you clench or ride him a bit, especially when you both start to give in a little. BUUUUUT—he waits for you to break first.
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lastoneout · 1 day ago
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I keep thinking about all of the disabled activists and people before me who stranded themselves on the 4th floor of buildings for weeks and crawled up stairs and fought with airline staff and schools and doctors and refused to stop existing in the face of injustice and bigotry no matter how big and scary and hopeless it seemed. Every time I get angry and scared the protests that lead to the creation of the ADA pop up again and remind me that disabled people are so much fucking stronger than anyone has ever given us credit for, and I can't help but be proud of that. And I know not all disabled people feel like we should take pride in our disabilities and have flags or whatever, but I think not just living, but thriving, in spite of a world that wants us dead and gone, in the face of both illness and persecution, and how we've not only bought ourselves forward, but uplifted the disabled people around us, secured more equal futures for everyone who will come after, and truly changed the way so many abled people have seen us for the better is something to be damn fucking proud of.
We have always been here and we always will be, there will never be a world without disabled people because being disabled is not bad, it's a natural part of the human experience and yeah it sucks some times but even when it sucks we have fought to build beautiful, unique, happy lives with people, both like us and not, and that should be celebrated.
The first sign of human civilization is the healed femur. The body of the profoundly disabled person who would have needed help to even just eat being carefully laid to rest after decades of a full, happy life. The medicinal plants showing even before we were entirely human we were doing what we could to not just survive, but alleviate suffering while we're at it. Above everything, evolution selected not the baby who can walk and eat and be quiet, but the one that can ask for help.
Disabled people are not just angry cockroach motherfuckers who refuse to die, we are proof of humanity's HUMANITY. Proof that natural selection selected a species that takes care of each other. From healed femurs and medicinal plants to vaccines and IVs and insulin to now, we are driven to help one another, we are at our strongest when we don't leave our most vulnerable behind. And I am living proof of that. My mother is living proof of that. Every disabled and chronically and/or mentally ill person I know is living proof of that.
And I don't know about the rest of you, but will carry that shred of humanity's true nature inside me like it's my fucking soul. I am scared and angry and hurt, but I have a lifetime's experience being scared and angry, and I can shake off the kind of pain that would make Atlas crumble to dust like it's nothing but a stiff fucking breeze. Disabled people have always been here, turning fear and anger and pain into joy and beauty and connection, and I'm not going to let everyone who came before me down. I'm not going to give up. Not now, not ever.
It's okay if you're disabled and you've hit your limit, you're too scared and tired and hurt, I won't blame you. But I won't abandon you, either. I might not be able to right all of the wrongs in the world, but I'll be strong, I'll carry all of you with me, I will not give up.
As I've said before, society hates a cripple who won't die, so we must spite them and live anyway.
Please, live anyway. I know if anyone can, it's us.
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soaps-mohawk · 2 days ago
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 40: Where Do We Go From Here?
Summary: Things aren't going as smoothly as anyone would like. Maybe they can fix it. Maybe they can't.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Word Count: 5,970 words
Warnings: Angst, discussion of nightmares, PTSD, discussion of death and killing people, emotions, so many emotions, angst, a little sliver of comfort
A/N: And it is back!! not super proud of this one but I'm starting out on a filler so...yeah. Really just setting up for the next part where some action starts again. You'll see. Anyway, glad to be back at it and I hope you enjoy!
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
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John stands at the door, gazing out at the yard. It’s pouring rain, dumping buckets on the roof. The water has pooled on the planks of the deck, splattering with every big drop that pours from the sky. The weather once again mirrors your mood, your sobs audible from your room over the pounding on the roof. 
John holds his mug in his hands, staring at the reflection in the window. Kyle and Johnny are sitting on the couch, both looking like kicked puppies. They’re itching to enter your room and go comfort you, but they’ve been kicked out for now. You’re not in the state of mind to be around any of them right now, no matter how badly your sobs tear at their heartstrings. 
You haven’t been in that state of mind for a few hours now. 
Whatever nightmare had plagued your mind last night, it was particularly awful. You’ve been up since the early hours, waking from a nightmare with a terrified scream that had continued until Kyle finally got you to stop and breathe. His ears are still ringing with it, his mind still pulsing with that fear. Something happened. Someone got in. Someone hurt you. 
Nothing happened. No one got in.  
The only threat was still just in your mind. 
Graves. 
He knows that’s at least part of your nightmares. Christine had disclosed that to him quietly on the side. Even she doesn’t know everything that plagues your dreams, but Graves seems to be a common specter in the darkness of your mind. 
It makes his blood boil, and not just out of anger for what Graves did to you. 
It boils with anger at himself too. 
It’s his fault you’re in this state in the first place. He should have known, he should have seen, he should have suspected. He should have never left you there. You should have been his priority over anything else. 
How badly he’s failed you. 
He lets out a sigh, turning away from the window to move over to the couches. He sinks down with a sigh, resting his elbows on his knees. The little progress you’ve made has regressed with this new string of nightmares, the fear pushing you further and further back into your mind. He’s resolved himself to only get worried when Christine is worried, and right now she’s beginning to look worried. If you regress back again, the chances of bringing you out of that are slim. Sure, there are plenty of options to help, but you have to want them to help. 
He knows exactly what will help, you just don’t want it. 
He runs a hand through his hair as your sobs begin to quiet. It’s longer than he’s let it get for a long time. They’re all a bit scraggly and ragged looking, worn down and lazy now that there’s no strict rules guiding their lives. None of them quite know what to do outside of the regulations they’ve spent the better parts of their lives living under. He’s been in the military longer now than he hasn’t, and he’s been finding himself itching for that structure again. He can never bring himself to relax and put the job aside even on leave. He only takes it when he has to and usually spends it training and keeping his skills sharp. 
Now...now things have changed. 
They have no return now. There’s no clear, set time that they have to return to base. They can’t return to base. It would leave them too open to a possible retaliation from Shepherd. They were betrayed by one of their own already, who's to say someone else wouldn’t be just as eager to become a traitor for a chunk of cash? They’re not even truly safe here. 
How are they going to go back to base after this? Can he bring himself to take you back there, a place you never felt comfortable in the first place? 
Where do they go from here? 
He’s been trying not to think too much about it. That’s a dilemma for a different day. That’s thinking too far ahead. Day by day is as far as he dares to take it now. 
The door closes quietly, John’s head lifting to watch Christine as she approaches the couch. There’s a slump to her shoulders, something that’s been getting lower and lower as the days have progressed. She’s struggling with this just as much as they all are. 
She sinks down on the couch, letting out a long breath. Your sobs have quieted, no sound coming from the room now. The silence is almost eerie after days of constant sounds, good and bad from your room. You were doing better. You were looking more alive and well. 
Then this happened. 
“She’s asleep.” Christine says, her voice strained. “Finally calmed down enough to nap.” She covers her eyes with a hand, sitting there still for a moment. 
“The nightmares?” John asks, glancing at Christine out of the corner of his eye. 
“Worse.” She says, her gaze far away. “She's remembering what happened.” 
John stares at Kyle and Johnny for a moment, the betas returning his worried gaze.
“Those shadows she killed...” Johnny says.
Christine nods. “She's, uh, not taking it well.” 
John runs a hand over his face. He knew it was possible you'd start to remember what happened during the time your omega took control. It wouldn't remain a dark spot forever, though he hoped it would. The things you were forced to do are coming to light now, the things you did to survive because they failed you. Taking the life of someone who deserves it is nothing to them. Taking the life of someone who would take yours just as quickly isn't so much as a second thought. 
You're not like them. 
You've never had to face that reality before, and you shouldn't have had to. 
“One of us should talk to her.” Kyle says.
“I don't think that's the best idea right now.” Christine shakes her head. “She's...regressed a bit. Pushing that on her, while well intentioned, might do more harm than good...” she trails off, her gaze still far away. 
The three of them sit there, waiting for what she’s going to say next. He’s not even sure Johnny or Kyle are breathing as they wait patiently for whatever solution Christine might be able to come up with, whatever move she thinks is the best one to take next. 
“I want to take her out.” Christine says. 
“What?” John asks in surprise. 
“She needs to get out of the house. It’s not doing any of us any good sitting in here all day.” She rubs her eyes. “She expressed interest in going for a walk a couple days ago. She needs to get up and moving, start regaining some of her strength.” 
John lets out a breath leaning back against the couch. He’s tempted to say no. His knee jerk reaction is to refuse. The world outside isn’t safe. If anyone is watching, if anyone sees them...
There’s always going to be that risk though, and Christine is right. Sitting in the house all day isn’t doing any of them any good. They’re at the mercy of the rain, but even then, he doubts it will keep any of them trapped inside for long. 
“When the rain clears up.” He finally says. “We'll discuss it more. But, I think that might be a good idea.” 
“What can we do?” Kyle asks, staring at Christine. 
She lets out a sigh, covering her eyes with her hand. “I don’t know. I’ve helped hundreds of omegas in crisis and yet I don’t know why this case is so hard.” 
“This has become more personal than those cases.” John says. 
Christine’s shoulders slump even more. “I know. I try so hard but she’s just so...different from other omegas.” 
“This entire situation is different from what you’ve done before.” Kyle says. 
“You’re right.” Christine sighs. “The best we can do is let her lead. Do what she needs, give her what she wants. The worst thing that can happen right now is regression. If she regresses too far, we might never get her back.” 
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“What is it? Tell me what ye need.” 
“Can you make me forget?” 
“I wish I could.” 
“Hit me hard enough on the head I might forget everything. Then we can all just start over.” 
“That’s not funny.” 
“It wasn’t supposed to be.” 
“Kitten,” Johnny sighs, leaning his elbows on his knees. “I wish I could make those thoughts go away. I wish I could make them mine.” 
“I killed people.” 
“I know.” He reaches out, touching your hand. “I wish ye didnae have to. Ye were just defending yerself. Those Shadows would have done worse to ye if ye hadn’t.” 
You curl up in your chair, turning away from him. “That’s not helpful.” 
“Sorry.” He says, letting out another sigh. “We just want to help ye.” 
You’re silent for a moment, sitting there listening to the waves. It’s cold this morning, not even the thick blanket draped over you offering much respite. It’s the first morning it hasn’t poured rain in days and you were determined to take full advantage of it despite the objections of your pack. 
“I know.” You finally say, staring out at the grey clouds looming on the horizon. The rain will return, just like the dark thoughts constantly swirling in your mind. They make you sick, nausea constantly churning in your stomach and threatening to rise. 
Johnny wraps his hand around yours, his palm warm against your cold skin. “Should head inside. Gonnae catch a cold.” 
“You know that’s a myth right?” You say, tilting your head to stare at him. 
“No it’s not.” He says, pulling your hand between his. “It’s not good for ye being out in the cold.” 
“I’ll live.” You say, trying to pull your hand from his, but he holds you firm. He’s stubborn, but so are you. 
“Kitten...” He says, almost whining at you. “Go inside please.” 
You let out a sigh, staring out at the horizon again. The clouds promise more rain soon, another downpour on its way. You hate it, how much it’s been raining. You just want to be outside, down at the beach, going on walks. Your pack won’t let you though, not while it’s raining, even though they often leave no matter the weather. 
It’s not fair. 
You’re not a fragile flower and you’re tired of being treated that way. Even though your brain feels like it’s in a blender constantly. Even though the pain of what happened still drives into you like a knife, you just want to be treated like a normal human being again. 
“Fine.” You sigh, pushing yourself up to stand. “I’ll go inside.” 
Johnny grabs your arm before you can head back in the door. “Ye know we just want the best for you.” 
You stare at him for a long moment, emotions swirling in your mind. They are trying. You’ll give them that credit. They’re trying, but not hard enough. “What you think is best and what’s actually best isn’t always the same.” 
He looks like a kicked puppy as he lets you go. You turn away before you can feel guilty, heading back inside the cottage. 
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You pull the blanket tighter around you as you stare at the flickering flames in the hearth. The heat is intense so close, but it’s warming the chill under your skin. It’s getting colder at night, foretelling the upcoming winter. All the blankets in the world couldn’t fight off the chill that’s settled in you at night. You know what might help, but you’re not brave enough to approach that solution. 
The footsteps on the stairs don’t startle you in the otherwise silent house, the creak of them audible over the crackle of the logs in the fire. 
“I’d add another one.” A voice says from behind you. 
“I’m going to.” You say, reaching for the stack next to the fireplace. 
“Careful. Put it on the side.” 
“I know how to make a fire, thank you.” You snap, shoving the log in before moving it into place with the poker. “I’m not useless.” 
“Didn’t mean to imply you were.” It’s silent for a moment as you settle back into place. “What are you doing out here?” 
“I’m cold.” You answer simply, not feeling up to giving an entire expose on your current state of mind to the person you want to speak to the least right now. 
“We can turn the heat up more.” John says. “Whatever you want to be more comfortable.” 
I want you to leave. You bite your lip, suddenly not brave enough to say it out loud. 
They are trying. 
“Why are you down here?” You ask instead. 
“Couldn’t sleep so I came to get a snack.” He says. “You want anything?” 
“No.” You say quickly, wrapping the blanket tighter around you. “I’m alright.” 
“You sure?” He presses, standing off to your right. 
You hesitate for a moment, curling your toes under the blanket as one of the logs snaps. It’s not food you need from him. Your appetite has decreased again with this new wave of horrible things plaguing your mind. “I want to know why,” You say, swallowing the lump in your throat. “why you left me there.” 
John shifts behind you, silent for a long moment. 
“I got too caught up in the big picture.” He finally says. “I thought that taking out Shepherd would end everything before it went too far. It’s the only way we’ll ever be safe, and I didn’t consider the lengths he’d go to, the lengths he’d let Graves go to, just to cover his own ass long enough for him to escape. I was wrong in making that decision. You’re not like us. You’ve never been left behind, tortured, had to fight your way out of an impossible situation. You shouldn’t have ever been put in that position. We all failed you. Every last one of us.” 
Tears burn your eyes as you stare into the fire. “You left me.” 
“I know.” He says, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s the worst mistake I’ve ever made.” 
“I can’t do this.” You whisper, your knuckles white where they’re gripping the edges of the blanket. The words are coming out and you can’t stop them. Maybe it’s because deep down you remember the better times, when he was a comfort. Someone you could trust to catch you when you fall. “I keep seeing them, seeing what I did, what happened. I killed people.” 
“People that would have killed you without a second thought.” He says. “You were defending yourself in a situation where that was unavoidable. It’s not your fault. None of it is.” 
“Can we ever move past this?” You ask, your voice quiet and broken.  
“I like to think we can.” John says. “It won’t be easy, but if that’s what you want, we sure as hell will work to make it happen. Things won’t go back to the way they were, and they shouldn’t. You deserve better than what we gave you.” 
You don’t respond because you can’t. His words float around in your mind, replaying over and over. You want to believe him. You desperately want to believe him, but a deep part of you can’t. He’s made promises before and then broke them. How can you trust this time will be different? 
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The creak of the stairs wakes you. It’s jarring, pulling you out of a sleep you didn’t know you were in. You’re on the couch in the living room, bundled under a blanket with a decorative pillow under your head. You don’t remember moving to the couch. The fire is nothing more than embers now, but it feels warmer in the house. It’s dawn, the grey light streaming in through the window, chasing away the shadows of night. 
“What are you doing out here?” A gruff voice asks you. 
You groan, rubbing your eyes. “Fell asleep.” 
“On the couch?” 
“Think I was on the floor first.” You yawn, pressing your face back into the pillow. “Don’t remember getting to the couch.” 
“Why?” 
“Got cold.” Your voice is slightly muffled as you pull the blanket up higher. 
Simon lets out a sigh before moving around the couch to the fireplace. He adds a couple logs in before lighting it again, the fire crackling back to life. You’re half asleep already as another blanket is draped over you, tucked up around your neck. There’s a feeling of a hand brushing over your head, but that may have just been your imagination as you drift off back to sleep. 
You don’t get to sleep long, more footsteps coming down the stairs waking you. A hand does brush over your head this time, the scent of the beach filling your nose. You let out a groan, trying to snuggle deeper into the blankets. 
“Sleeping out here this morning?” Kyle’s soft voice reaches your ears. 
You grunt, chasing the quickly fading edges of sleep in your brain. 
“Breakfast is ready, if you want to get up.” 
You are hungry. There’s a quiet rumble of your stomach as you begin to register the smells coming from the kitchen: bacon and eggs and coffee. Johnny is making the coffee most likely. Maybe you’ll have some this morning. You might need it with how groggy you feel. 
You stretch out on the couch, trying to breathe some life into your limbs. It’s not the most comfortable couch, definitely not for sleeping, but it’s better than the floor. It was likely John that moved you. He was the only one that knew you were out here last night. 
You're not sure how that makes you feel. 
It's nice on one hand, that he saved you from the pains of sleeping on the floor. But at the same time it feels like an intrusion. There was a time you wouldn't have thought twice about it. There was a time it would have been normal and expected and you would have thanked him for it. 
Now...now you're not sure. 
You push yourself up to sit, joints cracking from being stuck in one position for so long. You blink slowly as you sit there for a moment. It’s warm in the house, almost too warm now with your body warmed from sleep. Dr. Keller is sitting at the table, a steaming mug in front of her. Tea, most likely. Maybe coffee. You’re not quite sure. She gives you a soft smile as you rub a hand across your face. 
You feel groggy as you push yourself up to stand, letting your stomach and feet guide you towards the smells coming from the kitchen. Kyle guides you to the table with a promise of making you a plate and you take your usual seat at the end of the table facing the kitchen. Dr. Keller is to your left this time, coffee in her mug judging by the smell. 
“How did you sleep?” She asks, her hands wrapped around the mug. 
“Fine. Got cold.” You say, resting your head in your hand.
“John turned the heat up a bit. We can get you more blankets if you need them.” Dr. Keller says. 
You hum, letting your eyes close for a moment. You won’t complain about more blankets, more soft things to lay with. There is one thing you wish you had, though. You’re not quite sure how to ask for it, or that it would even be possible to get. 
You jump when a hand touches your back, not realizing you had even dozed off sitting there. 
“Sorry.” Kyle says, setting a plate on the table in front of you. “Food’s hot. You want coffee or tea.” 
“Coffee.” You say instantly, earning a wide grin from Johnny as he takes his own seat at the table. 
“Even split this morning.” He says cheekily, setting his own mug down. “Three against three.” 
“Tea is still the superior choice.” Kyle says from the kitchen. “Better for you anyway.” 
“Coffee has a lot of health benefits as well.” Dr. Keller says. “So long as you don’t add too much sugar into it.” 
“See.” Johnny says, giving them a victorious grin. 
“She said so long as you don’t put too much sugar in it.” Kyle says, carrying over your mug of coffee. “You’ll get diabetes from how much you add in.” 
“Two spoonfuls isnae too much.” He turns to look at Dr. Keller. “Is it?” 
Dr. Keller gives him a worried look. “You might be pushing it there.” 
Johnny’s grin turns into a pout. “What do ye mean?” 
A ghost of a smile tugs at your lips as you quickly shovel a forkful of eggs into your mouth. As much as the deep pain of betrayal still aches in your chest, as much as you still want to hate them, you have to admit you missed this. It’s the least tense you’ve seen all of them in the last few weeks. Even Dr. Keller’s shoulders don’t seem quite so squared as they have been. 
A part of you feels guilty about it. It is your fault deep down. You’re the one keeping them all on edge, driving that wedge between them over and over again. Deep down you’re the one causing the heavy weight that’s settled over the house. You wish you could just go back to normal, you wish you could just wave a wand and make yourself okay again. You wish you could ease their pain just a little bit. 
The eggs suddenly don’t taste quite so good anymore. 
You force them down regardless in favor of causing another scene, in favor of dragging the mood down. They deserve a little lighthearted moment after everything. They don’t need to know the inner turmoil plaguing your mind. 
Simon shifts next to you, his eyes darting to glance at your face. You can feel them, the intensity of his gaze just as sharp as it had been back in the beginning, back before he looked at you with fondness. He’s stiff as he sits there, almost as if he can sense the storm raging inside of you as you force yourself to pretend that you’re fine in favor of keeping the bright mood that’s settled over the table. 
Maybe he can sense it. He is an alpha after all. It’s his job to know, to understand. You glance across the table at John, his eyes on his phone as he sips his tea. 
Your gaze drops down to your plate as you pick up a piece of bacon, your heart shattering just a little bit more. 
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“‘S too early.” You whine as hands pull the blanket off of you. Cold air nips at your skin, making you curl up in a ball. 
“It’s noon. Come on.” A hand closes around your arm, gently shaking you. “You want to get up.” 
You let out a whine, pinching your face up. “No.” 
“Trust me. It’ll be worth it.” Kyle says, brushing the hair back from your face. 
“Why.” You say, letting out a huff. 
“We’re going on a little trip.” Kyle pulls you up, forcing you into a seated position. “Dress warm.” 
You’re alone in the room again, the door left open. Light streams in, making you squint against the harsh intrusion. A quick glance at the clock reveals it is, in fact, a little past noon. You took a nap to make up for a night of tumultuous sleep, one of the few things you have to do here in this prison. Nap and read. It’s a lot like your life before the cottage, before everything that happened, except now you’re stuck with your pack around you at all times. 
You almost miss the times they were away. 
You maneuver yourself so your legs dangle over the edge of the bed as you try to blink the drowsiness away. The nap hadn’t been nearly long enough, but judging by Kyle’s eagerness, they let you sleep a bit longer than they wanted. 
You let out a sigh before pushing yourself off the bed, moving to the dresser. You pull out warm clothes, quickly changing. You have no idea what they have planned, what’s going on. There was no frantic rush, Kyle’s energy more excited than anything. It makes you a bit worried as you step out of the room into the living area. 
They’re all waiting by the door, watching you as you approach them, rubbing your eyes. 
“Come on,” John says, setting a pair of shoes on the floor. “Boots on.” 
“What are we doing?” You ask, moving forward automatically. 
“We’re taking a little trip.” Kyle answers. 
You look at him cautiously as you step into the boots, pulling them on. You haven’t been away from the cottage since you arrived two weeks ago. You’ve barely been let outside, weather permitting. It’s an overcast day today, the world grey outside, but grey is better than rain. 
“Ready?” John asks as you stare at him. 
“I guess.” You say, still a bit hesitant. 
They make no effort to ease your discomfort and nerves. 
You’re led out the door and towards the cars by Dr. Keller. Her face is brighter than it has been lately which doesn’t help your nervous energy. She’s excited too, just like the rest of them. You’re not sure why you’re so nervous. Maybe it’s the anxiety of leaving after being trapped inside for so long. You just want to know where you’re going, what it is you’re going to be doing. 
Dr. Keller ushers you into the back seat of one of the cars, getting in the other side. Kyle and John climb into the front while Johnny and Simon get into the other car. 
You watch the green pass by as they drive, taking in the new landscape. You don’t remember arriving at the cottage. You don’t remember most of the trip at all. It’s all a blur in your memory, much like the events that transpired after your omega took over had been. You wish you could remember the trip over those events. You’d take green rolling hills over your own hands taking lives. 
It had been jarring waking in the cottage for the first time. A new place, a lack of memories getting there. You’re beginning to get tired of the pattern. You half expect to fall asleep and wake up somewhere new again most nights. You wouldn’t know any better. A slip of a pill into some food and you’d wake up somewhere halfway across the world. 
You like to think they’d at least warn you beforehand. 
John pulls the car into a parking lot, parking near a line of trees. Johnny pulls into the parking lot behind John, parking near the entrance. It’s on purpose, you know that much. Everything is about safety and making things look as inconspicuous as possible. Anyone could be a rat. Anyone could be watching. 
It’s windier here as you step out of the car, even though you haven't gone far from the cottage. Walking distance, if you were up for a hike. You’re not. 
“Come on, kitten.” Johnny says, guiding you through the parking lot and towards a path. 
You still don’t know what’s happening as you follow them, Johnny holding your hand as you step onto the rocky path. He leads the way, the others following. John is behind you, hovering in case you slip in the gravel. You do your best not to, despite how quickly Johnny is leading you. He’s more eager than Kyle had been, and you’re sure he’d be running if you could keep up. 
You begin to figure out what’s happening as the sound of waves crashing on the shore gets louder and louder. Your chest starts to constrict with emotion as the trees start to get sparser and sparser, a cliff edge visible over Johnny’s shoulder. You want to run now, you want to break ahead and race your way to the edge of the cliff. Johnny, even in his excited state, would catch you before you could take off and potentially hurt yourself. 
You might hurt yourself just trying to run. 
You hate it. 
The land opens before you as you reach the edge of the cliff. The expanse of the sea seems daunting so close, grey and choppy from the wind. Salty air blasts you in the face, rustling your jacket as you stand there above a small beach. It’s empty, but that’s expected for the middle of fall. All the tourists have gone home, those with vacation homes back in better weather for the winter. 
You’re glad you’re alone. You wouldn’t want anyone else ruining this moment. 
Kyle’s fingers wrap around yours as you stand there, staring down at the beach below. “Come on.” 
The gravel turns to dirt as it winds down the side of the cliff, getting steeper as you near the beach. You do nearly slip as you follow Johnny down to the sand, your boots quickly getting muddy. You’re glad for them, understanding why John chose boots over more comfortable shoes. 
You pause as your feet sink into sand. You stare out at the water, at the white crests of waves crashing onto the shore. It’s real. It’s not just some mirage, some painting in the background of your life. It’s really here. You’re really here. 
No one says anything as you take a few steps forward before squatting down. You scoop up a handful of sand, letting it slip through your fingers. It’s coarse against your cold skin, thicker and rockier than the sand you’re used to, but it’s still sand. It’s still a beach. 
You’re at the beach. 
You scoop up another handful of sand, letting it run through your fingers again. You want to put some of it in a jar and set it on the nightstand at the cottage. You want to stare at it and remind yourself you’re really at the coast, you’re really just a short drive away from the sea. You want the sand to sink into your skin and flow through your veins and fill every crack that’s formed in your mind.  
You’re really here. 
You stand up straight, staring out at the water again. Your pack is still behind you, silently watching you. You shuffle forward a couple steps, waiting for one of them to stop you, to grab you and keep you from getting closer, but none of them move. You widen your steps, treading through the soft sand until you reach the edge of the wetter sand where the water was earlier. It’s easier to walk on as you continue to approach the water, the sound of your pack treading through the soft sand disappearing behind you as you get closer and closer to the water. The waves flow up the beach, your feet getting closer and closer to where that water stops. 
You half expect them to stop you as you step forward, letting the waves hit your feet. The salty water washes away the mud and sand clinging to your rubber boots, rushing up over the tops of your feet. You stare down at the water, watching it surge upward and around your ankles. You’d keep walking if you were brave enough, let it get higher and higher until it soaked your clothes, but you know they’d stop you. It’s far too cold to risk getting wet. You can feel the chill of the water through your boots as it flows over your feet. 
You’re not sure how long you stand there, watching the water rush back and forth, feeling the pressure of it against your boots as you stand in the waves. You’re really here. You’re really standing in the sea. 
You finally turn after what seems like an eternity, making your way back up to the softer sand. All of them are standing in a line, watching you. You wonder what’s going through their heads, what they feel standing here. Relief? Happiness? Guilt? Shame? The wind whips at your back, coming right off the water, blowing their scents away from you. What you wouldn’t give to be able to smell them right now. 
Tears burn your eyes as you make your way up towards John, trudging through the sand. His cheeks and nose are pink from the cold wind, his beard longer than you’ve ever seen it. You don’t remember the last time you’ve really looked at him up close. His gaze is uncertain as he stares down at you, trying to gauge your next move. He can’t. You know he can’t and it makes you feel powerful. 
It shouldn’t, but it does. 
“Thank you.” You say finally, a tear sliding down your cheek. “Thank you.” 
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You can hear them. They don’t know it, but you can. They think they’re speaking quietly, but in the silence of the morning, you can hear almost every word. Dr. Keller’s protests, John's quiet insistence. 
Leaving. 
That’s the word that caught your attention. Leaving. Someone is leaving. Someone is separating themselves from the pack again, and not just for a trip to town to go to the store. This meaning is different, it hangs differently in the air. 
“I don’t think this is a good idea right now.” Dr. Keller says, her voice just barely audible through the open sliding glass door. It’s open just a crack, just enough to hear what’s transpiring inside. 
“We won’t have another chance.” John says, his voice insistent. “We have to do this. She deserves it.” 
She. You. Whatever it is, it involves you. It always does. You can’t remember a time over the last few weeks when it hasn’t been about you. It’s always about you and you hate it. You almost wish things would go back to the way they were before, when you were a second thought, the one left behind.
You’re going to be left behind again. 
“John-” 
“I know.” John’s voice is louder again. “We have to do what’s best for our pack, and right now this is it.” 
The sliding door opens, the conversation over. Your stomach is churning, nausea eating its way up your esophagus as John crosses the deck towards where you’re seated. His steps are slow and quiet, almost like he’s approaching a wild animal. He might be, depending on how this conversation is going to go. 
How are you going to react? You expected it eventually. They’ll always leave, they’ll always put you last and think about themselves first. Are you upset? Are you angry? Is it a relief? 
You wish you could feel something right now. Instead you feel numb. Another promise broken, another lie told. 
“You’re leaving again.” You say, staring out at the horizon as John takes a seat next to you. You need to get it out first, say what you know before he can say it and break your heart again. 
He lets out a quiet sigh, leaning back in the chair. “We are, but you’re coming with us.” 
You turn to glance at him, taken aback by his words. You’re leaving too? You hadn’t considered this. The cottage is your prison. You are Rapunzel trapped by the Mother Gothel that is your pack, stuck in the tower for the rest of time. 
Leaving? 
“There’s something we need to take care of back in the states.” John explains. “You’re coming with us.” 
Back in the states? What could possibly be there that is left for you, for your pack? 
You don’t like the sound of that. You don’t like the sound of that one bit. 
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smutoperator · 3 days ago
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A Horny Hostage
Lalisa Manoban (Lisa) x Male Reader
Kinkvember Chapter 1
Main kinks: kidnapping, golden shower, interracial (BWC), car sex
Word count: 3239.
New York City, United States, October 15th, 2024
What a day it has been for Lisa. Never in her wildest dreams when she started her idol career, she thought she would become a Victoria's Secret angel. She was as happy as ever.
"Come here, let's take some pictures," a photographer oriented her, bringing Lisa close to a van with its right side door open, where you took some pics of her, with her liking the best the one where she flaunts her cute ass.
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"Good, let's take some more pics," you say to her after she looks at the ones captured in your camera and approves them. However, all that was just a trap to lure the (not so) innocent Thai girl into your plan.
A pair of masked dudes emerges from the side and shoves Lisa inside the van; you follow them, getting yourself on the backseat of the van while your two partners drive it away from the show. The newly crowned Victoria's Secret Angel is now just a hostage.
Lisa panics a bit; she screams for help at first, but no help is about to come. "So, let's blackmail her billionaire boyfriend into dropping some good money for the new woman we got with us," you say to your partners in crime. Despite the crowded traffic of New York City, your van quickly passes through Brooklyn, then Queens, and soon reaches the wilderness of Long Island.
Lisa is tied up, but you slowly calm her down. "We are going to free you in exchange for some favors," you tell her. "What kind of favors?" she asks. "You'll find out soon," it's all you can say for now.
You untie Lisa and start touching her body parts. Her long legs, her dark hair, and then hovers your hands around her pussy. "Careful, boy, you're looking for something that you can't handle," Lisa says to you. But you quickly shut her down. "I'm pretty sure I can handle you fairly easily; if your ugly ass boyfriend can do that and all he's got is money, I can do it too," you tell her.
"So you think you can handle this?" Lisa says, flaunting her ass for you. That arrogant brat is starting to get on your nerves. You then play with the dark wings from her outfit, which were stored inside the fan as well. "Fallen angel, I want to see you turning into a wild devil," you tell her. "If you say so, then I'll show you something," Lisa says.
"Then show me what kind of badass you are," you tell her, reaching with your hands to touch her pussy. "You have a nice pussy out there, you tell her, taking off the bottom parties of her outfit and leaving just her panties on. "Those bare legs are so sexy," you say, running your hands over them. "Take it off; I want to see you with just a bra and panties, the way I bet your boyfriend does every day," you tell Lisa, who obliges and takes the piece of fabric covering her bra.
"You really like to flaunt how much of a hottie you are since leaving idol life," you say to Lisa. "Well, if you let me, I'll do it even more," Lisa says, reaching towards your crotch and noticing your cock is already throbbing for her and ready to burst off those pants. But you slow her down, grabbing her neck and kissing her. "You're a bad bitch, aren't you?" you ask her.
"You're hot as fuck; now come suck my cock," you tell Lisa, unzipping your pants and showing off that big white cock to her. "Bet it's much bigger than your boyfriend's," you tell her. Lisa strokes it, then bends over to get a taste of your cock, allowing you to see her great ass from above as her sexy mouth gets it wet.
"Hmmmm, it tastes so good," Lisa says. "Fuck yeah, it does," you reply, letting her take the initiative and blow that pipe off while you caress her ass. You push your balls closer to her mouth, challenging her as she deepthroats you. But you quickly put a halt to her fun, pulling her top down and sucking her little tits.
"Hmmm, you like my cute little boobies," Lalisa says to you. "Yes, they are cute, but your mouth full of my cock is hotter," you say, dunking her head against your massive shaft and making her take it. "Fuck, that booty is so hot; I didn't know Asian girls could be so thicc at the bottom," you compliment her ass. "Well, it's definitely good; I bet you want to put that big fat cock in it later," she says.
"Give those fucking balls some love too," you tell Lisa, letting her lick it. But what she likes the most about sucking cock is the ability to deepthroat it, so Lisa just gets back up and takes your whole shaft in her mouth shortly after.
"Ohhhh shit, you suck my cock so good," you say to Lisa. "It's because it's so big and perfect for my little mouth," she answers as you just let her take it and give her butt a little spanking. "Now I want you to lick it like ice cream," you say to Lisa.
Lisa obliges and licks that shaft like the good whore she is. "Perfect, keep licking it and look at me when you do it," you tell her as she giggles. "Come on, show me you're a bad bitch; it's just you and me in the back seat of this car," you continue.
You pull Lisa's panties down, giving her sexy ass a few spankings. "Get them all the way down; I'll keep them as a souvernir," you say to her. "Now get on the floor and spread those legs," you give her another command.
You reach your hands and start toying with Lisa's fuckholes. Her pussy gets some fingering while your thumb goes straight into her butthole. You enjoy watching her moans just get muffled by your massive cock stretching her mouth.
"Perfect cocksucker, let me reward you for that," you say to her. "OUCH FUCK YES," Lisa screams as you start repeatedly hitting her ass hard. "Good girl," you say after, patting her head too and pushing it deeper down your shaft.
"You want that dick in your Thai pussy?" you ask Lisa. "Of course I do," she answers. "Then let's go for a ride," you say. "Bro, she is indeed the bad bitch you claimed; I'm jealous," the guy driving the van says, sliding the window down to check it a bit.
"Let's go, baby," Lisa says as she gets your cock wet with a few more suckings. You take her top off and then finally manage to grab her panties as a souvenir like you wanted, pulling it down once again and this time for good. Lisa is now butt naked as she prepares to sit her cunt on your cock.
"OHHHHH FUCKKKK," Lisa gets surprised by the size of your big white manhood in her pussy. Even her boyfriend's can't match. As a big white cock whore, she's truly having the time of her life. You make sure to use your hands to reach and push your shaft as deep as you can in her cunt. "OH MY GODDDD, UHHHHH," she moans as your tip is already reaching her cervix, the 10 inches of your massive pale pole stratching her out and bulging under Lalisa's long torso.
Lisa tries to bounce on your big cock, but her fun is short-lived. As soon as you get fully inside her, you start pumping it upwards. "UHHHH, UHHHHH," she says, getting caught off guard by your thrusts. "OH FUCK ME," she moans as you grab her butt and take full control of her body, your hips clapping fast against her cheeks as you destroy her cunt.
"UHHHHHH, UHHHHH, UHHHHH," Lisa keeps moaning as your cock attacks her pussy relentlessly, her body swinging as the car makes a sharp turn. "OHHHHHH MY GODDDD, JUST LIKE THAT, YEAHHHH," she screams with no fear of getting heard by anyone besides your crew. She clings to any support she can find in the van, as you only increase the pace of your pumps.
You thurst so hard against Lisa's Thai pussy that her pink anus is already winking. "DON'T STOP, DON'T STOP, USE ME," Lisa begs. And indeed, you won't stop, moving Lisa's body to the side and keep pumping her pussy hard, treating her like the fucktoy her boyfriend had too much respect for to use her like that, unlike you, who has none for this whore.
"FUCKKKKKK," Lisa keeps screaming, her voice cracking at all points. She probably used it more already by moaning like a bitch than in any of her performances as a soloist. "Oh, it's so good; oh, it's so fucking good; keeps using that pussy; oh my GODDDDDDD," she moans. "Uh uh, uh uh, uh uh," she moans as even her little tits are managing to bounce, given the intensity of your thrusts against her.
"OH YEAH, OH YEAH, SPANK MY ASS," Lisa says as you add extra hit to her already intense punishment, slapping her butt nonstop without losing any speed as you continue to fuck her pussy like a madman. "Come closer," you tell Lisa, who is so numb already she doesn't even notice the roof of the van, hitting her head against it.
"That's so good, so good, so good," Lisa repeats as you push her skinny body close to yours. Lisa stares at the window, the cary flying fast towards the roads of Long Island while your cock does your work in her cunt. Her spatial awareness is completely gone as her head keeps hitting the roof, and your cock hitting her cervix at all moments doesn't help.
"OHHHHHH GODDDDDDD," Lisa screams as she clings onto you, barely avoiding a hit against the glass as you keep attacking her pussy. A police helicopter flies close to your car, making you wonder if they are coming to rescue her. But you just don't care; her pussy is too good and worth getting arrested for.
You finally come to a stop, giving a little tap on Lisa's ass. "Good girl," you praise her abilities to take your white cock in such a confined space. But that's no surprise, given her flexibility acquired from years of dancing. You give her pussy a few extra pumps. "Oh my God, you fuck me so good, ah, ah, ah ah, ah," Lisa moans as your balls hit all the way up to her winking butthole.
Lisa climbs out of your cock, moving cautiously to avoid hitting the roof. She twists sideways and tells you to put your cock back in her pussy, starting a reverse cowgirl ride where the guys driving the fan will have a privileged and distracting view of her hot body bouncing on your cock.
Well, so she thought. You aren't keen on changing your ways, pumping your cock once again hard against her pussy. "OH MY GOD, PLEASE," Lisa begs, trying not to fall down as your cock pumps deep inside her. She opens her legs and moves them around, trying to get better support, but you just don't stop, grabbing her thigh and continuing to thrust like a madman. "OH MY GOD, IT'S SO GOOD," Lisa moans as your balls hit right at her clit.
You fuck Lisa so fast her head now uncontrollably hits the roof of the car. You lean her body against yours, pumping her pussy at a pearly gates position, her Thai pussy just getting used by your big white cock. "FUCKKKKK, AHHHHHH, YOUR COCK IS SO GOOD," Lisa screams, getting out of breath as you just can't stop leveling her cunt. "OH YES, OH YES, OH YES," Lisa says as your cock hits her cervix constantly, you push her up, and her head hammers the roof once again.
You pull out of Lisa and pick up one of the folded seats of the van, pushing it back up. Lisa sits on it and spreads her long legs. You dive to eat the pussy you just obliterated for long minutes, licking her wet and used-up folds. "Looks like my big cock wrecked it good," you say to her.
"And I want it to wreck it again, uhhhh, ahhhhh," she tells you, interrupting herself with moans as your licking is too good for her to resist. You don't need much to put her on the verge of orgasm, as her pussy is already throbbing after so much pounding, and soon Lisa's long legs start shaking.
"Ahhhh, ahhhhh, ahhhhh, ahhhhh, ohhh yeah, eat my pussy good" she moans as you tongue her folds. You kiss Lisa's pussy and move into thumbing her anus. "Hmmm, it's so tight, I wonder if my cock can fit in it," you say. "I guess you should try it, baby," she replies.
But first, you have to get your cock a bit slicker to slide on Lisa's sexy ass, giving a few pumps to her pussy instead as her wet folds lube up your shaft. You grab Lisa's leg and fuck her sideways, pinning her against the seat of the van. "Oh my God, oh my God, ahhhhh," Lisa moans.
You finally switch to fuck Lisa's ass, but your cock is so massive you struggle to get in at first. Lisa gasps with just your tip inside. "It's too fucking big for my tiny little ass," she moans. "Well, let's see," you reply.
You thrust your cock against Lisa's ass, her now coping with her butthole getting stretched out by fingering herself. "FUCK THAT ASS, YEAH," she moans. "God damn it, why do you have to be so big?" she asks as your cock digs deeper and deeper.
"Keep going; I need you all the way deep in my fucking ass, uh huh, uh huh," Lisa says as your cock slowly disappears inside it. You twist your fingers inside Lisa's pussy while your cock stays buried inside her asshole, making her scream even further. From time to time, you switch to her pussy to get some extra lube from her juices onto your cock.
Lisa's legs are so long the fingers in her right foot are now what's hitting the roof of the car while you keep fucking her ass. She opens her legs further, hitting the glass that separates the backseat of the van from the cabin. "DON'T STOP FUCKING MY ASS, PLEASE," she begs.
And who said you ever planned to stop? You push the pace and the depth of your cock inside her butt, rubbing your hands against Lisa's little tits as well while she moans like a good slut. You started choking her. "I love that baby, getting shocked while you fuck me in the ass; keep going," she says.
"Come here, let's try a different position, get on your knees, slut," you say to Lisa, who follows your orders, getting herself on all fours and clinging to the backseat of the van as you stay fucking her ass this time from behind. "AHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHH, OH YEAH, FUCK FUCK FUCK," she moans hard as your cock stretches her tight butthole out while your big hands reach to keep choking her.
"What the FUCK FUCK FUCK," Lisa says as you suddenly change the pace, grabbing her waist and giving her ass fast and hard poundings. "Fuck, I love stretching your tiny little ass, Lisa; your cute, sexy butt looks so good with my cock deep inside it," you say to her.
You stay grabbing Lisa's waist, not letting her get out of your grasp at any second as you fuck her ass. "YEAH FUCK THAT ASS, YEAH, OH MY GOD," she moans. You grab her arms from behind and thrust hard up her butt, using the motion of the van in your favor. "OH MY GOD, YOU'RE SO GOOD IN MY ASS," she says.
"Spread those legs wide," you command to Lisa, enjoying the way your cock just disappears inside her tight butthole. You then slide Lisa's body on the car's floor. "Wow," she says, as you get ready to get on top of her and pound her tasty ass even harder.
"Get that ass all the way up," you tell Lisa, who obliges, gaping her tight butthole as you slide inside it at a prone bone position. Lisa spreads her ass, trying to ease off the pressure of her tight hole, but it's to no avail; you just pound her relentlessly. "FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK ME, OHHHHH, IT'S SO GOOOD," Lisa moans as you stretch her tight asshole hard, hitting her in the face and mounting on top of her like a raging bull, your hips clapping hard against her cheeks.
"OHHH, DON'T STOP BABY," Lisa begs as you impose on her a hard anal destruction; her body shakes with the insensity of your fucking. Your big white cock sends her to the heavens in a way her boyfriend's never could. She moans like a good whore, pleading to God. 
"Are you ready for that cum?" you ask her. "OH YEAH, BABY, I'M MORE THAN READY, OHHHHHHH," Lisa answers as you grab her waist and push your cock deeper and deeper in her ass. "Shit, Lalisa, your butthole is too tight; you're going to make me cum at any second," you say to her, clapping her cheeks hard.
"FUCK YEAH, GIVE IT TO ME, GIVE ME THAT CUM," Lisa begs. "Then come here, get that ass up," you tell her, pulling out of Lisa and jerking your cock off until your seeds coat her sexy butt. You pick your phone up and take a picture of Lisa's cum-covered ass, giving it a little taps aftwards. " "Send it to Fred," you tell her.
Lisa messages her boyfriend as you stay starting at her butt and appreciating your white sperm all over it. You enjoy looking at her body, but one of the guys on the cabin suddenly interrupts you.
"Bro, we need to pee," he tells you.
"Alright, let's find someplace," you say to him.
"We are too far from the city; we'll need to pee at those woods," he replies.
"Wait, I think I have a better plan; stop the van," you answer him.
You slide the van's door open and bring a completely naked Lisa to the outside. It's freezing cold out there, but your cock is still throbbing. "Guys, I think I found the perfect place for us to pee," you tell them.
The three big white cocks start bursting hot piss all over Lisa's sexy body. To their surprise, she fully embraces it, opening her mouth when the pee gets close to it and loving the way you guys turn her into a walking urinal and cover her entire body full of that dirty liquid.
"Wow, that's so hot," Lisa says after you three finish pissing on her.
"Glad you liked," you say to her.
"Bro, looks like Fred paid the rescue money; should we just leave her there and tell him the location?" one dude asks.
You look at an abandoned cabin hidden in the woods and sense Lisa is still horny and wants more.
"I think we can wait until dawn; let's fuck that bitch airtight at the cabin first," you say.
"Done deal."
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rafesangelita · 1 day ago
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⊹₊⟡⋆♡ oh, nothing! just bitchy!kook!reader walking around the house in nothing but rafe’s favorite heels after he decides talking on the phone with his friends is more important than paying attention to his girl..
warnings: bratty behavior, rafe being sexually frustrated lol, groping, heavy teasing, suggestive ending
a/n: just a little something on the shorter side because these 2k+ wc fics have done their number on me lol
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you rolled your eyes, an exasperated sigh leaving your lips as rafe’s laughter echoed from upstairs. he has been on a three way call with kelce and topper for going on an hour now, and while you usually didn’t care, he had you waiting for him downstairs in full glam and an empty tummy. this is what you get when you try to play nice and put your catty attitude to the side for one night; a negligent boyfriend who had no care for anything else in the world except for what him and his idiot friends were rambling on about. your impatience is what lead you to be in the position you were in right now; naked and ignoring rafe as he followed you around the house, begging you to give him the slightest amount of attention.
“we can go get dinner now, okay?! i was just listening to topper vent about ruthie, i swear i wasn’t ignoring you!” he refrained from stopping you in your tracks, his cock stirring in his pants when he watched the way your hips swayed with every step. “oh, really?” you spun around, your boyfriend’s eyes falling down to your bare chest, “not responding to me when i called you downstairs like a thousand times wasn’t you ignoring me?” rafe opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off when you walked away from him again. this time he watched you round the corner of the hallway, making your way into the kitchen before cursing under his breath.
you could tell you were driving rafe insane by the way he was gripping the kitchen island, his knuckles white with tension. “so, what? you’re just going to walk around like that?” he asked, his eyes burning into your skin. you shrugged, bending over the counter with a look in your eyes that made him want to wrap a fist in your hair and take you right there. “too bad you were busy with your friends earlier.. i actually wanted to be the sweet girlfriend tonight and give you dessert after dinner. oh well..” you pouted, walking past him as you flipped your hair over your shoulder. why were you like this? toxic, bitchy, mean, but still irresistible, sexy, and perfect?
“it won’t happen again, i promise.” rafe was hypnotized as he watched you walk into the living room, your heels clicking against the floor as your boyfriend pleaded with you to let him take you upstairs. “maybe the neighbors would appreciate the view a lot more than you do—” you barely touched the curtains before your boyfriend snatched you away from the large window. “that’s enough.” he said through gritted teeth, his gruff voice just right below your ear. suppressing the butterflies from fluttering in your tummy, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “that poor excuse of an apology isn’t gonna get you anywhere.” rafe chuckled, his hands feeling like fire on your hips.
“let me show you how sorry i am..” he turned you around, his cock aching as he could now feel your tits pressing against him through his shirt. he was making it really hard for you to keep up your act. “acting like a little brat, i know exactly what you need right now.” you gasped when you felt him take a handful of your ass, his bruising grip only exciting you further. “and what is that?” you leaned in, feeling the last of your resolve crumble when he took your hand to feel him through the denim of his jeans. “it’s so hard for you, baby,” he nearly moaned, lowering his tone, “and i’m still so hungry..”
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cressidagrey · 2 days ago
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It's a Love Story - Chapter 2
Summary:
Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.
Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.
And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.
Warning:
Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible.
If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.
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Contary to popular belief, (which was pretty much that the shadows had no mind of their own, which they had, thank you very much) the shadows did do other thing than to only listen to Master’s orders. 
Of course they listened to Master’s orders. 
But they also did…things that Master didn’t know about…and would never need to find out about…
One example in fact was the amount of gold the shadows had squirreled away throughout the centuries. Not for them, but for Master. So that Mater would never need to worry about that again. So that Master would never need to sleep in a dungeon again, like he had as a child. So Master could always have new weapons and could keep himself safe, so that he would have everything he needed.
Gold wasn’t the only thing they had squirrelled away…they had other things stashed away too! Anyhting that made the appearance of being useful one day! Shiny little things, because the shadows liked that…Sadly Master never made the appearance that he would appreciate the diamond necklaces they had hidden away in a little cave, but maybe one day…
Maybe one day Master would take a wife and she would like them.
The shadows had it all figured out. Whoever she turned out to be, they would make sure that she liked them too. They would make themselves useful so that she would like them.
Even when it had never seemed to work before… The shadows had made themselves scarce around The Morrigan and The Seer because they knew that Master liked them. And if Master liked them…well, then the shadows would make sure that Master got what he wanted.
Master wanted so few things after all…
They even found The Morrigan her favourite red lipstick that hadn’t been made in centuries. Not because they liked The Morrigan, but because Master did.
And in return, she treated Master like that.
And The Seer…oh, somehow that was even worse.
Though The Seer wasn’t the only one the Shadows didn’t like because of that. The High Lord was the other one. And him… oh, the shadows would get their revenge. 
Master was theirs. Nobody talked to Master like that.
(They just needed to wait for the perfect moment…and the High Lord would regret ever treating their Master like that…)
Master had nearly gotten himself killed just because he had wanted to make The Seer happy…and nobody even seemed to care about that. Not really. 
And then Master was working himself to the bone, clearly wanting to forget what happened between him and The Seer…and the Shadows just wanted to fix things, but there was nothing to fix anymore. 
At least now…At least now, finally, Master was listening to somebody with his best interests at first.
The Shadows would find Master a wife. The best wife they possibly could. And a home too.
And so, with their new mission in mind, the shadows set off to find the perfect home and the perfect female for their master.
The home was the easier part.
Mostly because they already owned it for a few decades. 
It was a picturesque Lake House at one of the mountain seas in Velaris, not far off from the House of Wind. It was beautiful and just a few minutes by foot away from the city center but still private and quiet…and the view was spectacular. 
The home itself was warm and cozy, with large windows that let in plenty of sunlight. Master would love it.
It just needed a little…attention. Some furniture…They would need to put the stuff they had filled it with somewhere else but that shouldn’t be a problem, right? 
Master would love it. Now they just needed the right female to share it with for Master…
The shadows were going to find Master a wife… They just needed…They just needed to figure out some criteria at first.
Master had said he didn’t care about how she looked…so that didn’t help them to narrow down the pool of possible candidates.
Nobody with a known mate. Nobody in a romantic relationship… regardless of how loose that was. The Shadows were not going to get Master’s heart broken again, thank you very much… Then all the females that preferred females themselves.
That did narrow it down… at least a little bit.
Then the more…obscure character traits. 
Nobody that was a workaholic like Master. That was never going to work.
Nobody that needed endless other people around them to be happy…Master would just get overwhelmed and shut down…
Nobody that didn’t seem like they were ready for a long term relationship either…once again, they didn’t want to break Master’s heart again…
The shadows had met really bad people. Criminals and murderers…they had seen the worst the world had to offer …but they were surprised by how many females they threw out too that pool simply because of how they behaved towards other people.
Once they had thought that maybe…maybe one female was an option. Dark blonde hair, green eyes…she had a steady job and she liked going out dancing….by the time she made fun of the limp of a soldier, the shadows wondered if every single person they came across was an asshole. They also wondered if there was anyone out there who truly deserved Master. 
But the Shadows refused to give up. They would find the right female for Master, no matter how long it took. They had already acquired a beautiful home for him, and now they were determined to find the perfect mate to share it with...
They could easily suss out anybody they wanted to meet…they could figure out which females were available…The problem was only that…they did find some kind of problem with every female they came across.
The blonde one that made fun of the limp was just one in a very long row of them. There was another one that they thought could have worked…but she got into earhsattering, screaming arguments with seemingly everybody she came across. Master liked his quietness, that wasn’t going to work either…
Another few that didn’t want a serious relationship even when they said they did, which was completely fine but made them useless for the shadows purposes… The Shadows were halfway ready to give up in Velaris and start trying again in another city of the Night Court, when they came across her in a dark back alley.
Across her and probably the dirtiest and ugliest feral cat that the shadows had ever seen.The ugliest cat they had ever seen that she was clearly trying to entice to come home with her.
“H-hey, swe...sweetie,” she whispered, her voice stuttering. She was crouched down o the floor. “Wa—Want to go somewhere war—warmer?”
The cat meowed pitifully and the shadows watched as she wrapped the cat up in the scarf she had worn, not for one moment caring that the cat was goign to ruin it. 
The shadows couldn’t help but keep watching, their curiosity piqued. She was clearly not concerned about the dirt or the torn scarf, and she was attempting to bond with this mangy feral cat. This showed a level of compassion and patience that they hadn’t often come across in their search. 
She seemed determined to help the cat, and the shadows couldn't help but admire her tenacity. 
The cat looked horribly, with matted, dirty fur, two eyes that stared in two different direction and an overbite. Somehow it reminded the Shadows of Master. 
Not with the way it looked…more in the way it pitfully stayed quiet and didn’t attack the female, even as she picked it up, wrapped in her scarf and then took it home. 
She smiled at the mangly back alley cat with so much adoration that the shadows wondered where it was even coming from. Her face was alight with joy as the cat rubbed her head against her fingertips.
The shadows followed along as she brought the cat to her apartment.
It was tiny. Tiny and absolutely stuffed full with books. So many books. Like somebody had tried to stuff the whole library of the Hose of Wind in this little apartment overlooking the harbour.
She had so many bookcases lining the walls, books in little stacks on her dining table and coffee table…or simply stacked on the floor. It was cozy and cluttered and utterly charming. Her passion for literature spilled out of every corner of her home. 
The Shadows couldn’t help but wonder what kin of person would choose to filll their living space with so many books. 
Apparently a person that had no problem with spending the better part of an hour bathing the cat in her kitchen sink. 
Weren't cats supposed to not to like water?
This one didn't seem to care. This one sat calmly in her sink and attemptsed to bite the stream of water flowing from the faucet...which meant it snuffled and sneezed for the big majority of the bath. She soaped him up twice, muttering a constant stream of reassurances that the cat doesn't seem to actually need, given the cat’s complete lack of distress at being repeatedly soaked.
And still she talked to it, constantly, the stutter omnipresent. She showed a remarkable amount of patience and care as she cleaned and combed the feral cat, gently and painstakingly combing out every single matted strand of hair and making sure the cat was clean and comfortable.
The shadows couldn't help but be slightly taken aback. She seemed completely focused on making sure the cat was happy and healthy, and she didn't even seem to mind that she was making a mess of her kitchen in the process. 
​​She scooped said up in a fluffy towel, rubbing it up and the cat purred, looking at her with two eyes that stared in two different directions. It was still the ugliest cat the shadows had ever seen, but she seemed to utterly adore it.
"You need - need a name," she told the cat seriously. She seemed to take this decision very seriously, as if the cat's name was a reflection of his identity. The cat in question was clearly enjoying the attention, purring contentedly as it was rubbed with a fluffy towel. "I thi-ink you are a boy. How about...Hector," she said finally, as if she had carefully considered many options before settling on this one. "I think it suits you.”
"How about some tu...tuna, Hector?" she asked him seriously. "I'll even give...give you the good crystal."
She couldn’t be serious, could she?
Apparently, she was. She fed the mangy back alley cat from a fancy little crystal dish that she put a tin of tuna into with a flourish, putting out another dish with water right next to it. 
She slipped off the apron she had put on, printed with ditsy little florals and sat down next to the cat. Hector happily scarfed down everything she was offering and then came to curl himself up on her lap. “I have a bad track record with males,” she told the cat seriously. “They end up cheating on me with my sister.”
The statement caught the shadows off guard. What? 
Despite that admission she she continued to gently stroke the cat in her lap, clearly finding some comfort in his company. "I'll feed you all the tuna I can find, if you keep me company," she told the cat softly. "I could really use some company."
That wasn’t…that wasn’t what the shadows had expected. Bu the Hector purre, the sound rough and growly and she giggled, sounding sweet and incandescently happy. 
She wanted companionship. That was clear. And she was also used to beng the second choice, when the males she had been with, had cheated on her with her sister. 
They were intrigued. 
They kept watching, hiding between her books, that seemed to span every which genre as she got ready for bed. 
She took a bath, and they watched as she let down her hair from the thick braided bun it had been kept it, ripples of chocolate brown tresses falling down her back…she was pretty too. 
Pretty with dark hair and blue eyes, with lush curves that were swathed into a pair of blue silk pyjamas.
She opened a chest at the end of her wrought iron bed, going through it for a moment and then pulling out a fluffy blanket, into which she wrapped Hector in. 
“Here, you..you can have that one,” she said softly, placing the cat at the end of her bed. “Let’s go to sleep.”
And so she went to sleep, curled up between floral sheets, and the cat purring at her feed and the shadows watched. 
They stayed.  
While she slept, they explored her house, searching for everything that they could learn about her. Searched for a name and her job or her hobbies and…
The answer was found in the desk that was tucked beneath her window in the living room. 
Dozens of pages filled with loopy handwriting were covering it. Drafts of her newest novel. A romance novel. 
Just a few moments later they found a stack of letters…and then were very confused for a little while, because there were letters addressed to two different females. Skylar Alden…and one Sellyn Drake. 
It took them a moment until they realised that both names contained the same letters.
Skylar Alden was Sellyn Drake.
Sellyn Drake, the bestselling romance author. Sellyn Drake, who Lady Death loved to read. Sellyn Drake, whose identity was a secret...
Skylar Alden was Sellyn Drake. 
Skylar Alden, who seemed to prefer to be called Sky, signing everything with just these three letter…and who doted on Hector, the ugly cat..She was also Sellyn Drake, Bestselling Romance Novel Author extraordinaire. 
And she seemed very much content with keeping that a secret. 
But why? 
Why did she chose to hide her identity? Was she afraid of the fame that came with success? Or did she prefer to remain anonymous and blend in with the everyday world? 
The Shadows were intrigued. 
Was this the only secret Sky was hiding? 
The Shadows kept an eye her over the following days. 
They waited for her to do something that would put her out of the running as Master’s wife. Waited for her to have some kind of flaw that they couldn't deal with...but there was nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
They closely monitored her every move, and half the time she didn’t even leave her apartment, preferring to stay curled up inside, write her books, and cuddle with Hector, the cat.
For cauldron’s sake…she even knitted the ugly cat a sweater so he wouldn’t get cold because his belly didn’t have any fur after she had removed all these mats!
There was nothing, absolutely nothing, that they could find in her life that could even be construed as unkind. 
Sky had a bank account that was full thanks to the books she wrote…and all she paid for with it, was her rent, her food, her regular mail orders of more books…She even donated to one of the orphanages in Velaris, for crying outloud! 
Sometimes she went down to the fishmonger and bought ridiculously expensive tuna for Hector, who she spoiled rotten. 
Though that one trip to the harbour…where the shadows hid in her handbag…well, that one trip explained why she seemed more than content to stay in the privacy of her own home for most of the time. 
Her stutter got exponentially worse when she tried to talk to another person, when it wasn’t just herself and the cat that she liked reading her books aloud to... 
Especially when the person she tried to talk to was an impatient fishmonger that rolled his eyes at her stutter. The Shadows as Sky’s cheeks turned a ruddy red, embarrassment clouding around her thickly. 
The shadows silently bristled. 
She acquired her tuna, paid silently and then kept her head down as she headed back home, cheeks still read, while blue, blue eyes filled with tears. 
And that…that was just pissing the shadows off. 
She hadn’t even been doing anything! She had just stuttered while asking for fish!
It wasn’t like she was doing this on purpose!
One tendril from the Shadows darted out of her bag, waiting until Sky was far enough away that that idiotic fishmonger wouldn’t think she had anything to do with it…
And then they only needed to loose that pesky little screw that kept one of the legs of his table attached…Screw you, Fishmonger. Let that be a lesson to be nicer to other people 
Another customer accidentally jostled said table just seconds later and the shadows snickered to themselves as the fish went flying. 
The tendril silently returned to Sky’s handbag, as she made her way back home. 
Hector got some of the Tuna cut up into small pieces on the good crystal bowl…and Sky gently scratched him behind his ears the whole time. 
The Shadows silently wondered if Master would enjoy being scratched behind his ears, as well. 
“I’ll ha--have dinner with my family to…tonight. You’ll stay here, al-alright? I’ll be back soon,” she promised the cat. 
Hector just purred at her, nuzzling against her hand before the cat began to dig into the tuna as though he would never be fed again.
Her family. Well, the Shadows would totally come along for that…who knew, maybe her family was just as lovely as she was!
They were not in fact as lovely, as she was.
It started with the very first words of her mother who opened the door, Sky juggling her purse and a paper covered tray from a bakery: “Did you bring dessert? It’s not like you should eat any of that.”
Sky paused at her mother's words, the small smile that had graced her face vanishing like water in the sand.
And then it returned, but the difference between her true smile and her fake smile were so... stark.
"Hi-i. I brou… I brought cake," she said, holding out the tray towards her. "Where do you….Whe-ere do…where do-o you want me to…to put it?"
Her voice was shaking. And she was stuttering…stuttering even worse than she had done with that fishmonger.
“Talk properly, Skylar,” her mother admonished her harshly. “Put it in the kitchen.”
Sky gave a small nod, but her eyes were downcast as the Shadows followed her into the house. 
The Shadows were...not impressed with Sky's mother. It was clear that her stutter wasn’t something that she could help, but instead was something that came out stronger when she was nervous or anxious or around other people. 
Sky set the cake on the counter and glanced towards the dining room. The table was already set, surrounded by other people, that the shadows took in, while hiding in the curtains of the living room: 
Sky’s mother was taller than her, blonde and grey eyed. The shadows also got their first glimpse at what probably was her sister. Looking just like her mother, tall and slender…accompanied by a red haired male. And then there was another blonde male, probably a brother…and an older male, who must be her father. At least he shared her dark hair.
“Ah there you are Skylar,” the blonde female greeted her, her voice sickly sweet.
"Hi Claire. Hi-i…ever…everyone," she murmured looking as though she would rather be anywhere but here.
Her eyes briefly flitted to her father. He gave a small nod, but otherwise he looked… indifferent. As though he did not even care.
"We've been waiting for you," her mother said, her voice sharp and curt, "Sit." Sky didn't respond, just moved quickly to the table. She settled down in one of the empty spots, clasping her hands on her lap.
"...Is this what you call fashion?" her sister scoffed.
Sky looked down at her outfit. 
As far as the shadows could tell, there was nothing wrong with it. I cream coloured blouse, a blue skirt…It was a rather pretty outfit in the Shadow's opinion. Sky looked beautiful and charming to them. 
“Did you gain weight, again?” The red haired male said with a roll of his eyes. “You always had a horrible sweet tooth.”
What. 
Since when did that make polite dinner conversation?
Sky didn't respond, even when the shadows could see her hands tightening around each other, looking down as her mother let out an exasperated sigh. “You’ll never find a male like this,” her mother snorted. “Males don’t like it if girls don’t keep up their appearances. The least you could do is try.”
"I'm...sor...re...sorry," the stuttering had gotten worse, Sky practically shrinking into her seat. She was fidgeting, looking as though she wanted to disappear into herself and the Shadows wished that they could just sweep her far away from here.
“How is work?” Her brother asked flatly at that moment. “Still editing your stupid romance novels? I still think you should do something slightly more useful.”
So even they didn’t know. 
Sellyn Drake was a secret even from her family. But then, if her family talked to her like that and it was…normal…then the shadows weren’t surprised. 
“What else is she supposed to do?” the red haired male asked with a snort. “It’s not like she has any skills.”
Sky flinched, not looking at him. The shadows wondered if that was one of the males that had cheated on her with her sister. 
“Oh, come on, Admon. She has some skills,” her sister said at that moment, giving another winning smile. “She can annoy everybody around her with her inability to speak properly.” 
Wow. 
Sky didn’t even flinch. Sky did nothing. 
She just...sat there through all the comments. Sky didn't even try to defend herself.
The whole dinner went by like that. Comment after comment after comment. About her work, about her body, about her clothing, about her stutter… Sky barely had any dinner because every time she picked up her fork with food on it, her mother was shooting her a sharp look. So she left most of the food on her plate and the shadows wanted to bristle. 
She maybe wasn’t as thin as her mother or her sister but that didn’t make her any less beautiful or any less deserving of food! 
When they weren’t making prickly comments about sky, her older brother Orin and Claire, her sister were only talking about themselves. It was quite useful only because the shadows learned stuff like the fact that Claire and Admon were engaged to be married and that Orin was working at a bank…
But none of that information made it worth for them to treat her like that. 
Eventually the dinner finally ended after what felt like an eternity. Sky looking as though she could hardly wait to leave. She rose, and the Shadows quickly into her purse her as she grabbed her purse and her jacket.
"Leaving already?" her mother frowned, standing as well. 
"I…It's get…getting…late." Sky said, her eyes not even lifting to look at her mother.
The words were barely out of her mouth before her mother's hand darted out, gripping her jaw tightly and causing the Shadows to let out a warning hiss. Sky winced in pain as her mother forced her to look up.
“At least try to be polite, if you are utterly useless.”
Sky's eyes widened in pain as her lip wobbled. She looked as though she was going to cry, her hands clenching and unclenching as she tried to stay calm. "I'm…sor-r-r-ry." She whispered.
But her mother didn't even release her grip. "Don't talk to me like you are the one being wronged. Look at you. Who would want you like this?"
The Shadows bristled at her mother's words. Everyone would want her like this, they thought angrily. We would want her like this.
Sky swallowed thickly, trying to fight her tears. She was trembling, trembling from head to toe.
"I'm sor-rry. Pl-please. Let me go." She stammered.
Her mother simply sneered, and shoved her backwards, Sky nearly falling as she stumbled. "You'll never amount to anything." She said coldly. "You're nothing more than a disappointment."
Sky looked absolutely mortified at her mother's words, tears starting to fall from her eyes as she looked down at her feet. She looked like a wounded animal, like someone who had given up. And it made the Shadows burn with anger. How could her own family be so cruel to her? Didn't they see how kind she was? Or how…how sweet she was?
Sky took a step backwards, and then she was running, practically fleeing out the door, rushing into the night. She was almost running, her breaths ragged as every gasp she took sounded as though she was trying to smother her sobs.
Finally, she slowed down, but didn't stop walking.
She just kept walking, her head down, tears still falling down from her wide eyes. Finally, she slowed down, but didn't stop walking. She made her way back home, shoulders caved in, looking utterly and completely miserable, as opened her door with her key…and then the damn burst. 
And she collapsed right on the floor in her hallway, great, heaving sobs escaping her.  
And the shadows just knew one thing with utter certainty: They were going to fix this. They were going to fix this for her and Master.
Even when it was the last fucking thing they did. 
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pathologicalreid · 2 days ago
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blue ribbon | s.r.
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in which you and Spencer dedicate yourselves to helping your daughter with the best baking soda volcano the science fair has ever seen
margovember
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: chemist!reader, misuse of lab equipment i don't care, their daughter is very girly, glitter word count: 1.46k a/n: ending the post margotober drought with the very first margovember request!!! i promise i'm working on masterlists but for some reason they're exhausting.
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“Why do I have to walk backward?” You grumble while trying to balance the end of the plywood on your knee, pulling at your badge reel to unlock the lab door.
Spencer nods his head in the direction of the keypad, “That would be why.”
Rolling your eyes, you push the door handle down with your elbow before pushing the door open with your foot, shuffling your feet. “Honey, can you turn the lights on?”
Lifting herself up on her tiptoes, your daughter flips all of the switches on the panel, cringing at the bright fluorescent lights.
Together, you and Spencer hoist the science project onto one of the lab tables, careful not to knock anything over as the papier-mâché volcano rests in your professional lab.
You and Leah had stayed up until eleven last night finishing the last coat of paint, even entertaining a visit from her Aunt Penelope so that the finished project could have a fine dusting of glitter all over it. Your dining room was now permanently sparkly, but the look on your daughter’s face when she saw the finished project made the mess entirely worth it.
Spencer steps to grab your jugs of white vinegar from the car, propping the door open so he can bring the supplies for the baking soda volcano in.
Obviously, you weren’t going to use the full-size volcano now, but Leah had refused to travel without it and Spencer believes that saying no to her is an impossible task. “Mommy?” The little girl pipes up, playing with the stirring rod that you had just set in front of her.
“What’s up?” You ask, leaning your hip against the counter, gently reaching out and adjusting the bows adorning her pigtails that you’d put in her hair that morning.
She looks over at the wall, minding each of the posters that line your laboratory, “What is that?”
You follow her finger to see what she’s pointing at, smiling softly, “It’s the periodic table.”
Humming thoughtfully, Leah sets the stirring rod down and walks over to the poster, “It looks like the one at home.”
Nodding, you get a step stool out for her to stand on, “They’re the same poster, the one we have at home is just a lot smaller than the one I keep at work.” You explain to her, knowing she’s talking about the poster you keep in your home office. “Come on baby, let’s go get you a lab coat.”
Setting a hand on her shoulder, you guide her to the storeroom, “Woah,” she breathes. It’s not a positive reaction, her eyes flitter all around the room, a mess of lab coats and goggles.
“Okay,” you say, shoving your way through the space until you find your locker, pulling out your lab coat, as well as safety glasses for the whole family. Holding a coat up to her and having her pull it on, you put your own lab coat on before looking back to find your five-year-old drowning in polyester. Laughing slightly, you adjust the lapels of her jacket, “How does it feel?”
Leah looks down at herself, “Cool!” She exclaims beaming up at you and giving you two thumbs up. She skips out of the closet and heads back to her volcano, almost tripping over the extra fabric of the lab coat, but Spencer grabs her arm before her knees can hit the linoleum.
He smiles at her, “Are you okay?” Helping her adjust her coat, he kneels down to her.
“Daddy,” she cheers, completely ignoring his question for the sake of being five years old, “Look at my coat!”
Smoothing her hair back, Spencer’s eyes briefly meet yours before he looks back to Leah, “You look like mommy.”
In a fit of giggles, he scoops her up in his arms in an attempt to avoid a tripping hazard, but she just thinks it’s fun. He sets her down feet-first on the step stool you had gotten out for her.
“Here,” you say, handing him a lab coat for him to wear and setting the safety goggles you’d gathered on the countertop.
When your daughter came home in tears because she felt like she had been assigned the ‘most boringest’ project for the science fair, you and Spencer quickly decided that you’d try everything to make her baking soda volcano exciting. At the very least, you’d work together to make sure she has fun.
Leah puts her goggles on and looks up at you for her next instruction, watching you divide the baking soda and white vinegar into separate beakers, “So, what will happen when we add these two together?” Spencer quizzes, watching you make careful portions.
“It’s gonna fizz up!” She responds correctly, bouncing on her feet while you gently push the first two dishes in front of her.
You nod, “You can pour the white vinegar into the baking soda,” You nudge her gently, knowing that you measured just enough to reach the top of the beaker, but not enough to flow onto the counter.
She uses both hands to grip the beaker and pour the liquid out, and the immediate reaction surprises her so much that Spencer holds an arm out to keep her upright. He trains his eyes on her amazement as the foam dissipates and the water and sodium acetate are left in the glass. “Can I drink it?” She asks, frowning up at her dad.
“No,” you both answer immediately, a sort of parental reflex. If you don’t answer quickly enough, odds are she’d pick it up and try anyway.
Disappointed, her frown remains on her face while her eyes return to the countertop, timidly, she tugs on Spencer’s lab coat, prompting him to crouch down to her eye level, “What’s wrong, lovey?”
Her eyes nervously look around the lab, eyeing some of the cabinets before she takes a deep breath, “Can we make it pink?”
“The foam?” Spencer says curiously, eyes flickering up at you while you nod frantically, already thinking up options so that you could further individualize your daughter’s glitter volcano.
She rocks back and forth, “Can we?”
As soon as Spencer says yes, it’s like a hold on you has been released, unlocking some of the cabinets so you can grab more supplies from around the lab, you return to the station with an armful of things to try, and Spencer mutters something to Leah about you being a mad scientist, leading you to maturely stick your tongue out at him.
You set up four options, taking photos as you go so you can paste them onto her presentation board. The first one is just baking soda, but you added a touch of dish soap to the vinegar. The increase in bubbles seems to greatly please Leah, so you decide as a team that the final product should have dish soap in it.
The second one has manganese sulfate mixed into the baking soda, and if the pink salt altered the color of the foam at all, it doesn’t impress your perfectionist daughter.
The third one includes phenolphthalein, which you think has some real potential, based on the way Leah’s eyes widen at the sight of it combined with the vinegar. The liquid was almost a fuchsia color, and she gasps when she pours it in to find that the foam is white, “It’s gone?”
You nod, “The phenolphthalein when it’s in the vinegar is pink because it’s an acid, but as soon as you add the baking soda it becomes a basic solution, so…” Your voice trails off when Spencer starts shaking his head, and you look down to find that you have completely lost Leah’s attention. Instead of listening, she’s trying to pronounce phenolphthalein, tracing the letters on the black countertop.
“What do you have next?” Spencer asks, eyeing the tiny dropper bottle in front of you.
Picking it up, you drop some of it into the vinegar and hand it to Leah, “It’s food coloring.”
His eyebrows furrow, “Why do you have food coloring in the lab?”
You wrinkle your nose at him, the expression makes Leah giggle, “Mind your business.”
As a family, you watch the chemical reaction, the white of the foam mixing with the red food coloring to create the desired pink lava. “Oh,” your daughter says softly, “Thank you, mommy!”
Beaming down at her, you place your hands on your hips and sigh, “If you’d like, we can add glitter to the baking soda too.”
Wide eyes look up at you in amazement, brown eyes inherited from her father, “I love science,” she whispers.
Behind her back, you hold your hand out for Spencer, exchanging a silent fist bump—a quiet celebration between two scientists.
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fandoms-x-reader · 3 days ago
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Defense System
Requested By: @space-dragon-ace
Oneshot
Summary: MC loses everyone in a crowd. To find the others quickly, they yell, "MC is a good for nothing human!" and wait to see what happens. OM! Cast x Reader Word Count: 851
You were apprehensive about going to this event in the first place.
You had just gotten back to the Devildom after being away for some time and you were still readjusting to the way things were down there.
But, your friends had all insisted on taking you to an event that occurred in the streets of the Devildom.
There were going to be tons of food trucks, vendors, shows and so much more.
They promised you that you would have a ton of fun ~ so who were you to refuse to go?
It was only after you got to the event that you began to regret your decision to go.
You had all shown up in a large group, but it seemed that everyone had their own things that they wanted you to experience.
All fifteen of your friends almost immediately went their own way, wanting to get something from a specific vendor to bring back to you or wanting to get you tickets to a show.
They were in competition mode and whenever that happened, you knew that it was hard to get them back on track.
There were tons of people surrounding you; and, despite your best efforts, you couldn’t see a single one of your friends.
You were a bit frustrated at this point, mostly because you had only agreed to go for them.
And, now you were standing in the middle of a crowd of demons, by yourself, unsure where to go or what to do.
You wanted to call someone on your D.D.D. but with how busy it was around you, you knew that you wouldn’t be able to hear anyone even if they did pick up the phone.
You thought about using your pact to summon one of the brothers; but, you didn’t think you were at the stage where that was exactly necessary.
Especially since summoning could cause the brothers pain if it isn’t done properly and it had been a while since you tried to do it.
Unsure of what else to do, you decided to be a little mischievous and test your bond with the others a bit.
You took a deep breath before shouting into the crowd, “Y/N is a good-for-nothing human!”
You paused for a moment, looking around once again, but when you still couldn’t find anyone, you let out a small sigh.
I guess that didn’t work…
“Alright, who said that?!” Mammon shouted, suddenly barreling through people to reach you.
“Oh, there you are!” you said, relieved at the sight of a familiar face and completely forgetting about your little joke.
But, there were fifteen people suddenly rushing to your side who did not forget about what was said.
They each came to you, one by one, hot and heavy and ready to throw punches.
You listened as they each began to throw insults toward this imaginary person as they searched the crowd for who could possibly be the culprit.
You tried to interject a few times, wanting to tell them the truth, but every time you opened your mouth, you were interrupted by another angry person.
“Y/N, did you see who said those words about you so we could find them?” Diavolo asked you, concern in his eyes as everyone turned their attention to you.
You were holding back a laugh as your cheeks dusted pink from all of the attention.
“Sure ~ it was me,” you admitted and their faces turned from ones of anger to confusion.
“Why would you say that stuff about yourself?” Beel asked as innocently as ever.
“Geez, Levi, you’re rubbin’ off on ‘em,” Mammon pouted, causing Levi to look extremely guilty.
“Relax, everyone,” you replied, stifling another laugh.
“I lost you in the crowd and I thought it would catch your attention enough that you would come find me. Looks like I was right,” you explained.
“Well that was risky,” Belphie stated. “Satan nearly lost his mind,” Solomon agreed quietly.
You couldn’t help but notice how adorable they all looked, pouting at the prank you managed to pull off. 
“I’m sorry, really. But, I thought the purpose of bringing me to this event was so that I could experience everything with all of you. Not for me to stand alone in the crowd,” you added.
You could feel the tension in the air shift as they realized that they had left you alone and understood where you were coming from.
They completely abandoned you in the middle of this large event. No wonder you pulled that stunt.
They promised not to leave you alone again and they each took you to their favorite parts of the event, making sure that at least one person was with you at all times.
They made you promise that you would never try something like that again.
You had fifteen people who were ready to fight for you at the drop of a dime, and saying something like that, even if you were joking, would always set them off.
Because they cared about you far too much to let something like that slide.
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coolemmasulivan2 · 1 day ago
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Back on Track
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Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader
Summary: After a fight with Lando, you’re nowhere to be found when he leaves for Austin, making him fear the relationship is over. But when you arrive at the track with Max, he gets a second chance to make things right, and the two of you reconcile.
Word count: 2061
Even though we're going through it And it makes you feel alone Just know that I would die for you Baby, I would die for you, yeah
You and Lando rarely fought. You’d been together since his final season in Formula 2, a bloody long time, and you could count the big fights on one hand. But this one was different. This was the worst of them all.
It was his last day at home before flying to Austin, and somehow everything went down.
"You're being clingy!" He shouted, running a hand through his messy curls, frustration etched on his face.
You stared at him, stunned. "I’m being clingy? Me? Lando, we’ve been together for years, and I have never asked you for anything. The one time I do, and this is what you say? Wow."
"Yeah, well, you’ve never acted like this before!" His face hardened, eyes sparking with irritation you weren’t used to. "Seriously, if you suddenly want some boyfriend who’ll sit around every night, watching dumb TV shows and cuddling you to sleep, maybe you should find someone else."
You shook your head, disbelief morphing into something different, something more hurt. "Maybe I should do that!"
He was beyond pissed. "Then please, do! I'm going out and I'll do the same." He turned, grabbing his jacket without a second glance. and strode out, slamming the door shut behind him.
You flinched at the echo, the silence crashing down around you as tears started to well up. "I hate you, Lando Norris." You whispered into the emptiness of the apartment.
Lando sat in the VIP section of his favorite Monaco club, gazing blankly over the crowded dance floor. The music pulsed, people laughed and danced, but his thoughts were miles away, thinking of you.
Max leaned in, breaking Lando’s trance. "Are you going to tell me what’s going on, or do I have to drag it out of you?" Lando shrugged. "Was it that bad?"
Lando sighed, his gaze distant. "It was! It was the worst fight we’ve ever had." He swallowed, the words bitter. "She probably thinks I’m cheating on her right now."
Max’s eyebrows shot up. "What are you talking about? Why would she think that?"
"Because, I pretty much said that." Lando muttered lound enough for Max to hear over the music.
Max looked at him, incredulous. "Why the hell would you say that, you absolute idiot? You love her."
Lando exhaled heavily. "I was angry! I didn’t even think. I just… said it. I realized how bad it sounded the second I left."
Max shook his head, staring at him with a mix of pity and frustration. "Well, congratulations: you’re an idiot!"
"Thanks for the information."
It was late when Lando finally got home. The apartment was dark, and silence filled the rooms. He stepped into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, his mind caught between whether he should crash on the sofa or swallow his pride, apologize, and lie beside you.
He waked to the closed bedroom door, standing there for a long moment, nerves filling his body. His hand hovered over the doorknob, but he stopped himself. He stepped back and with the sting of guilt he fell down on the sofa.
You were deep asleep when a hand shook your shoulder. Groggily, you opened your eyes to see your best friend sitting on the edge of the bed, her eyes barely open, hair rumpled from sleep.
"What?"
She yawned, rubbing her eyes before looking at you. "Your phone won’t stop ringing."
Blinking, you glanced at the empty nightstand, remembering you’d left your phone in the living room. "What time is it?" You muttered. "It’s probably Lando. We were supposed to leave for Austin early."
She groaned, pulling a pillow over her head and laying down next to you. "Then answer it or turn it off. It’s too early for this, and I’m exhausted."
"She rejected my call!" Lando exclaimed, pacing back and forth in the apartment.
Max raised an eyebrow. "That’s good news."
"How is that good?"
"At least we know she’s okay." He said. "And still mad at you, which is probably deserved."
"I don’t even know if she was still here when I got home last night. The bedroom door was closed, and I just… crashed on the sofa. I only realized she was gone this morning."
Max nodded thoughtfully. "So, what’s the plan now?"
“I don’t know,” Lando groaned, slumping into a chair, rubbing his hands over his face. "The team’s going to kill me if I miss this flight."
"So go!" Max said firmly.
Lando looked up, shaking his head. "No way. I’m not leaving without her."
Max rolled his eyes. "Look, she knows you have to leave, Lando. Sooner or later, she’s coming back, and when she does, I’ll bring her to Austin myself. Just go."
"What if she refuses to go?"
"She loves you. She'll want t make things right. Trust me!"
Lando hesitated. "You promise?"
"I promise."
You slipped into the apartment two hours later, knowing Lando would be gone by now. The silence felt heavy as you shut the door, but before you could make it to the kitchen, Max appeared, stepping out from Lando’s streaming room.
You jumped, clutching your chest. "Max! What the hell? You scared me!"
"Sorry!" He said, raising his hands in apology.
"What are you doing here? Is Lando still here?" You glanced around, half expecting him to walk out from somewhere.
"He left. Had to, or he’d have missed his flight."
You made your way to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and taking a long sip. "I thought you were going with him."
"I am. I was just waiting for you."
You looked at him, understanding dawning slowly. "Max, I don’t think going with you is a good idea." You sank into a chair at the small dining table, and Max sat across from you.
"That’s not true."
"Max, you don’t know how he treated me, the things he said…" You swallowed, voice shaking. "He told me I should find someone else. And said he would, too."
Max leaned forward, shaking his head. "Look, he was furious and stupid. Belive me, I know what he said, and he regrets every word. He didn’t even want to leave. I practically had to drag him onto the helicopter."
Tears pricked at your eyes. "Max, I don't know."
"He’s an idiot, but he’s an idiot in love with you. I’ve never seen him like this with anyone, Y/N. He’s been calling you non-stop, hoping you’d pick up, and he’s completely torn up about it. So please, come with me. Let’s go to Austin."
Lando had been unusually quiet all day. Practice had gone well, but not well enough; the Ferraris were ahead, and so was Verstappen. His mind should’ve been on the upcoming sprint qualifying, but all he could think about was you and the fight. He could only hope that Max was somehow convincing you to come to Austin.
"Everything alright? You’ve been quiet, which is… not like you." Oscar asked, glancing over at Lando as they wrapped up filming a video for McLaren’s social media.
"Just tired." Lando muttered.
Oscar hesitated, then asked gently. "Where’s Y/N? Lily told me she was coming."
Lando’s jaw tensed, his eyes flicking up to meet Oscar’s. "I… don’t think she’s coming." He admitted, his voice low. "I messed things up pretty badly."
Oscar raised his eyebrows. "Want to talk about it?"
Lando shook his head, leaning back and closing his eyes. "Not really. Just… hoping I haven’t lost her." He said, more to himself than to Oscar.
Lando was suiting up, pulling on his gloves and securing his helmet, trying to lock his focus onto the upcoming sprint qualifying. But the knot of anxiety in his stomach hadn’t eased since he arrived, knowing he might have to go through this entire weekend without you there.
Just then, Max appeared in front of him, grinning. "Hey, mate. Just came by to wish you luck. And, by the way…" Max lowered his voice, glancing over his shoulder. "She’s here."
"Fuck... thank you for bringing her."
There, standing quietly near the corner, arms crossed and headphones on, was you. You looked a little nervous, a shy expression on your face and when your eyes met, you quickly looked away.
A wave of relief fell over him, and he instinctively took a step forward, desperate to close the space between you. But Max put a hand on his shoulder, holding him back.
"Not now." Max warned. "You’ve got a sprint to think about. You can talk to her after."
"But—" Lando began, his eyes darting back to you, a urge to apologize.
A couple of mechanics also intercepted him, nudging him toward the car with hurried reminders. "We’re starting in a few, Lando."
Lando clenched his jaw, glancing back at you. Taking a deep breath, Lando slipped into the car, his heart beating a little steadier, his mind clearing. For the first time all day, he felt ready. You were here and that was everything.
You watched the qualifying from the garage, heart pounding with every lap. It was always like this: nerve-wracking, pride and fear as you watched him push himself and the car to the limit. But today, your chest felt even tighter, knowing the tension lingering between you.
When the session ended, Lando finished fourth. Relief mixed with a bit of pride washed over you as you clapped, your gaze fixed on him as he came into the garage.
The moment he spotted you, he didn’t hesitate. He strode over and without a word, he reached for your hand, gently but firmly, and led you out of the garage toward his driver’s room, ignoring the curious glances around you.
Once inside, he closed the door. "Y/N… Babe, I’m so sorry."
You looked down, your arms wrapping around yourself. "You hurt me, Lando. You didn’t just walk away, you made me feel like I was… too much."
He stepped closer, reaching for your hand again. "I was an idiot. I don’t even know why I said those things. I was frustrated, and I took it out on you. None of it was true. You’re not ‘too much.’ You’re… everything to me."
"I thought you didn’t want me anymore."
He swallowed, his voice barely a whisper. "That could never be true. I can’t imagine any of this, my life, racing, anything, without you." He brushed a stray tear from your cheek. "I was terrified you wouldn’t come. That I’d ruined everything."
You took a shaky breath. "Max convinced me… told me you didn’t want to leave, that you were just… scared of losing me."
"More than you know." He said, his hand holding yours firmly. "Please forgive me, Y/N. I’ll spend as long as it takes making it up to you."
"I don't want you to give up anything, Lando."
"I know. I know. That's not what you asked me."
After a long moment, you squeezed his hand. "I’m here now." You said softly. "Let’s just start with that."
Relief flooded his face as he wrapped you in his arms, holding you close, as if he never wanted to let go. "I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m grateful you’re here. I don’t want to mess this up ever again."
You gave him a gentle smile, brushing a stray curl from his forehead. "I didn’t come all this way to hold onto what happened. Let’s just… move forward. Together."
He smiled. "Together."
A knock on the door interrupted the moment. "Lando?" A team member called from the hallway. "They need you back in the garage in five!"
Lando glanced back toward the door, then returned his gaze to you, clearly torn. "Go!" You murmured. "I’ll be here when you’re done. I’m not going anywhere."
He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing gently over your cheeks as he leaned in, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. You melted into it, letting the last of the hurt dissolve in his warmth.
When he pulled back, he looked at you with a smile . "I’ll be quick." He said, squeezing your hand before reluctantly letting it go and heading toward the door. Just as he opened it, he paused, glancing over his shoulder one last time. "I love you."
"I love you too." You whispered.
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aakeysmash · 1 day ago
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christmas shopping, matching pajamas and family discounts
college!sukuna masterlist
"Why are we here again?" college!sukuna huffs from next to you for the umpteenth time.
"Stop acting like a little bitch. You asked me that 20 seconds ago, Yuuji is acting better than you," you hiss out, glaring at him. It's true though: the kid is trotting right in front of you two, not a care in the world, while his caretaker is currently dragging his feet on the pavement you're walking on.
"And you still didn't answer, fucker," he barks back, grimacing, kicking a little rock.
"Yes, I fucking did! I told you this morning we were going Christmas shopping! You never listen to me," you start, jutting your lip out and trying to play the victim. You know he hates it when you do it. "Maybe I should tell Yuuji how his big brother hates the idea of going shopping with him," you provoke, whispering so that only you and him know what you're talking about. He scoffs, offended.
"Liar. Don't you fucking dare-"
"Are you two fighting again?" whines Yuuji, turning around and pouting. You and Sukuna glance at each other before shaking your head at the same moment.
"No, we're getting along so well," you force yourself to smile.
"Yeah, she said she's so glad I'm accompanying her. Matter of fact, she said she's going to offer us lunch," Sukuna continues, an evil glint in his eyes when he hears you gasp.
"I did not-"
"Really?! Yippie!" screams Yuuji, coming to hug you violently. You stumble back, gritting your teeth, and reciprocate the hug while narrowing your eyes at the grinning tattooed man in front of you. He knows you're not able to say no to his brother.
When Yuuji runs inside the mall, you push Sukuna's shoulder, mumbling "bitch". He just chuckles, then boldly gets you close by placing one open hand on your lower back. You know he's just going to tease you, so you put both hands on his chest to fight back, trying to put some distance between you two, but the place is crowded and everyone is looking at you. A woman passes by you and looks at you weirdly, so you stop wriggling in his grasp, and he delicately pushes you even closer. You're chest to chest, his breath fanning over your features, grin ever present on his face, enjoying how you look pissed out of your mind. From the outside, it looks like you're hugging each other, when in reality he just puts his mouth on your ear to utter "Never play with me, baby. I know how to drive you mad," then frees you and walks behind Yuuji with his hands in his pockets, not turning back to see if you're following him or not. You're seething.
"Oh my God, Yuuji, look at these!" you swoon over a pair of pajama pants. They're a soft brown, decorated with little green Christmas' trees and little reindeers, a bright red Merry Christmas! on both knees.
"It's a set!" squeals the kid next to you, grabbing the sweater right on top of the piece of cloth you have in your hands. You both notice at the same time that the set comes both in adults' and kids' sizes. "Can we take it?" he asks you looking up, puppy eyes activated. Your heartstrings are pulled so tight you feel like you could implode if you look at his face for a second longer.
"Of course we can, I thought it was obvious," you say excitedly, grabbing his hands and jumping up and down with him in a circle while he laughs, smile on full display and brown eyes squeezed shut happily.
Sukuna, who has kept watching his phone for the majority of the time you've been inside the mall, raises his gaze when he hears your laugh mingled with his brother's. If you had been looking at him in that instant, you would've seen the brief soft glimpse that passed on his whole face when he took in how happy you both looked together. When you turn around, though, he's already schooled his features to appear bored.
"Are we done?" he yawns.
"Would you like to match with us?" you ask him, at the same time. You scowl and he scoffs.
"Hell no, girl. I'm not with whatever stupid shit y'all are doing," he says, trying to act tougher than what he actually feels like. Seeing you being kind to the only person in the world who shares 100% of his genes makes him feel things he doesn't want to acknowledge right now.
"You're a party pooper, 'Kuna," Yuuji mumbles, frowning. "Can we still match? I really want us to match," he adds, shily, looking at you. You're shocked. His cheeks are getting redder the more you gawk at him. "Sorry, you can say no-"
Your kiss on his cheek resonates all around the ally you're currently staying in. "Of course I want to match with you. We don't need your evil brother, Yuuji. Let's go try them on," you sweetly say, taking his hand and walking away from Sukuna, not before flipping him off. Yuuji is so giddy that he follows you like he's walking on clouds, his face slightly hurting from how hard he's cheesing.
Sukuna just stands there, baffled and even a little offended. He stiffens, noticing he still has his phone in his hands. He's so fast with it he's the first to remain shocked by his own actions: he hears the click of his camera and looks at the pic he's just taken, feeling his chest heavier than it's ever been. It's a beautifully taken pic, where you and Yuuji are squinting at each other, hand in hand, laughing. He turns off his screen, shakes his head and catches up to you. You're going to give him a headache if you continue being like this. Or a heart attack. Or both.
"Hello, what can I do for you?" the nice old lady at the checkout says.
"Hi, we'd like to take these two pieces," you kindly respond, handing her the pajamas you and Yuuji just tried on.
"Let me see... oh, we actually have a family discount on this! Is the daddy not going to take anything?" she innocently asks, looking over at your older roommate.
"Yo, I'm not his-"
Your eyes almost fall out of your sockets. "Ah ah ah! Silly us! We forgot his one! Just give me a second," you interrupt a scowling Sukuna, covering his mouth with your hand before he can finish his sentence, dragging him away. Yuuji gives the old lady a confused look, to which she responds with "Young parents these days," shaking her head.
"You're going to take the fucking matching set, Sukuna, and you're going to like it," you seethe, still dragging him away (well, it's more like he's letting you drag him away). You hear how he's trying to talk behind your hand. "Don't piss me off. I'm going to pay less to get more, and you're going to listen to me. Go." You ignore him and he raises one eyebrow, looking you up and down, before biting your fingers. You yelp and let him go, scowling. "I said go! And act like you care about me when we get there, we're a family until the discount tells us so!"
"Okay, ma'am," he grins down to you, wiping his saliva from the corner of his mouth with a slow movement, his gaze lingering a bit too much on the way you're panting.
"Move! Take your size and let's go! Yuuji is waiting for us!" you push him, rushing back to the cashier.
"Oh, you were really fast. I thought you were going to argue with the way you rushed away," she says when she sees you come back, surprised. You nervously chuckle, telling her how you were already planning on buying one for Sukuna, you just forgot. "That would be 20.99$."
While you're swiping your card, you suddenly feel engulfed by heat. Sukuna positions his hands on your waist, giving you a half hug from behind while simultaneously giving his best confident grin to the old lady in front of him.
"Yeah. I just like when she bosses me around a bit, if you know what I mean," he says, sultry, winking at the cashier who is chuckling behind her hand, embarrassed, waving him away.
What the fuck? You initially try not to stiffen, then relax and give her a shy smile, and he squeezes you a bit closer. You melt on his chest, feeling hotter than you've felt all day. He's so comfortable. He brushes his lips near your ear and makes sure you hear the way his raspy voice is all around you. "And I do, baby. I really do."
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fatuismooches · 2 days ago
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Dottore and his segments get a taste of their own medicine after giving you a job of your own. (In other words, you ignore their need for attention in favor of your work, they get pouty, just like you did.)
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As of late, a peculiar sight had made its way into the lab. Actually, peculiar wasn't even strong enough of a word for the agents to use. They had nearly tripped over their feet once they saw the new area of their working quarters in the lab.
In addition to their Lord Harbinger's desk (that was shared amongst the segments depending on the day), there was now another desk on the opposite side of the room, and the cute decorations on it were quite noticeable. Photo frames and stationery. A comfortable and plush chair with a blanket that dropped over it.
... A plushie version of the Harbinger that laid on Dottore's desk, commissioned by you to motivate him.
(A side thought - the number of desks the Doctor had was something to wonder about. One in the lab, one in the office, one in the bedroom - no wonder things were always scattered around the place. But that was something for another day...)
And most importantly, you, Dottore's spouse, standing next to their Lord, rocking back on your heels nervously as he introduced you as their new co-worker.
It all began when you approached your husband with a very simple request.
"Dottie, I want a job!" You said with enthusiasm, smile as wide and proud as ever. The scientist paused his work and turned to look at you with a blank expression.
"... A job, you say?" You only puffed your chest out more at his confirmation.
"Yes, a job. I mean, being your lover is already a lot of work for my poor back, but I want to actually work with you! With your research and stuff, like the old days!" Your excitement was completely serious and were it not for your health, it would have been infectious for the scholar. Rarely did he ever meet anyone who was truly interested in his work. But of course, certain restrictions have held you back for a long time now.
"We've already been over this. My work is too dangerous for you," the Doctor sighed as he turned back around to continue whatever he was doing.
"I know, I know, but I meant other kinds of stuff. I've been thinking like... a desk job! It doesn't have to be anything dangerous! I could... sort papers for you? Oh, and you have one of those fancy stamps, right? I could stamp them too! I could rewrite your notes... ah, and the best part - I could help you write reports too! You always liked my essays, didn't you?" You were doing your best to provide Dottore with a convincing case, snuggling up against his firm back. Only another sigh escaped your husband, not really that convinced.
"Come on..." you inhaled his familiar scent, tinged with that laboratory smell that never seemed to go away, but somehow brought comfort to you. "I've been so bored lately... and lonely," you muttered the last part pointedly. "I just want some work to take my mind off things!"
Indeed, there was always limited entertainment and pastimes to occupy yourself with. It was especially boring on days you couldn't get out of bed, or when no segment could afford you attention...
"And you know what, I could give those agents of yours some writing tips, too!"
Yes, there had been many times his employees were not up to his standards, despite how many of them fawned over him (for some odd reason)...
"And I'll be helping you too! It's good for everyone."
Of course, you always felt rather good about yourself if you managed to help him, being the Second Harbinger and all...
"I suppose I shall give it some thought-" Before the man could finish his sentence you started squeezing him tightly while hopping in delight.
"Oh, thank you! So, when do I start? Do I get one of your huge desks too?"
"I didn't say yes yet, darling."
"Shh... we both know what you mean!"
And that was how you now clocked in at "work" every day with the agents (later than normal, but you had special privileges.) It was daunting at first for the poor souls, even the ones who secretly admired you from afar (being in the fan club and all.) Even though initially you were merely sorting papers, you were the most important person in that room.
However, soon enough, going to work in this dreary lab became a lot more cheery thanks to your sweet demeanor. Somehow, the atmosphere had become a lot less tense since the last time the segments visited.
The agents had little to no problem speaking to you like a normal person, after you had graciously given them tips on impressing the Harbinger.
"Psst..." you were hovering behind an unsuspecting agent, reading the report she had for Dottore, who jumped at your whisper. "You know, he might click his tongue if you give him that." Although her mask covered her face, you could see that half surprised at how you popped out of nowhere, and half agreeing with your words. Perhaps she felt comfortable enough to spill the situation to you.
"I-I am well aware of that," she deeply sighed, "but no matter what I write, my Lord always seems to be unsatisfied..." You patted her shoulder in sympathy. Having worked with Dottore since the Akademiya days, you knew very well of his distaste for certain things.
"Well, that's why I was hired, friend! To make his and your life easier! See, look here, that's a no-no, he wouldn't appreciate those details, mhm, but this needs to be elaborated on more, uh huh..." Of course, being the good spouse and employee you were, the report was converted into the best one that had ever landed on the Doctor's desk.
On your lunch break, they provided you with some juicy gossip about anything they could get their hands on (the fan club had long reaches, apparently.) Frequently you had to debunk things about Dottore... (the handbook was swiftly revised.)
Needless to say, things seemed to be going well. You looked happier. Motivated. Having new "friends" as your company (that still watched their mouth around you after a single glance from the segments.)
However... an issue arose after a while. One that seemed entirely stupid and impossible.
Now that you were so caught up in your work, when the segments finally had some spare time to come to you, they were... rejected. Yes, they had come to you, fully expecting your devoted attention and kisses that you always gave them without hesitation, but now turned away. (Even more embarrassing, sometimes in front of the agents who kept their eyes glued to their strange chemicals.)
It was Omega, of all segments, who was turned away first. The most confident and charming of the bunch left uncharacteristically silent. He had come up behind you and traced his hands against your neck, always being the one who had no shame in touching you. You only softly giggled at the sensation and caught his hand in yours.
"It seems you've been busy for a while, dear." In truth, it was mostly you seeking him out and not vice versa, but the segment hadn't seen you invading his office in a while. The space had gotten too quiet without you.
"Mhm! But I can't imagine how much work you do. My desk is nowhere as cluttered as yours," you smiled as you felt the segment kiss your lashes.
"What do you say to a break with me?" Omega offered, already knowing what your eager response would be.
"Nah, I can't right now."
...
Your words took a few seconds to process through his head.
"Pardon?"
"I have all this work, 'Mega, and other people need my help," you shrugged your shoulders as you swung your legs. "But don't worry. I'm sure we can spend some time later!" You kissed him on the cheek and pulled your chair in before continuing your work.
Omega, the greatest segment, was reduced to a blankly staring man who had been deprived of his lover's attention for the first time.
He was irritable for the rest of the day.
Beta was next, the poor thing.
You were always the one he blew off steam to, always willing to listen about his gripes and complaints, offering him consolation in the form of kisses and soft words.
However, you hadn't come to visit in so long, the segment was all pent up and now the agents were beginning to fall victim to him.
Fine then - he'd seek you out. Not because he needed you or missed you or anything of the sort. You were just... halting his progress with the lack of your presence. Yes, that was it.
And so the scientist, donning his grand pink bow tie, swung by your desk.
"So this is where you've been? How boring." Beta was not a segment that you'd want to do paperwork. He much preferred to be hands-on.
"Ah, Beta!" You brightened in delight at seeing one of your lovers. "I missed you!" At least you were always honest about your feelings.
... But to cut a long story short, Beta faced the same conundrum that Omega did.
Someone got turned into a floating Ruin Machine that day.
By now all the segments had experienced being turned away from work. Alpha's signature scowl had become permanent. Zandy was pouting the whole day as he missed his parent. Foxttore kept to himself with a pathetic sopping wet eye. His segments were fighting with each other inside his mind, a great nuisance.
All because you were too absorbed with your work to pay them any attention.
... The Doctor was now realizing that it sounded like a very familiar tune sung by you. So this was what you felt for days on end? Now, it was easier for him to understand why you were always upset if you were ignored too much.
Still, it was mortifyingly embarrassing that his segments were reduced to this pitiful state just because you rejected cuddles a few times. Regardless, it was up to him to solve the issue. After all... he missed you too. He wanted you to be around him more often again.
And so the Doctor made his way to his beloved.
There you were, all cozy on your seat as you sorted through some papers. Really, he had no clue you'd be this productive, to be honest. At least it was proof that your health hadn't gotten worse, considering how well you were handling this.
"Aren't you the one who kept saying to take breaks?" His voice made you jump a bit, having not heard him walk up.
"It's you, Dottie! I was wondering when you'd come around. And of course, I take breaks, Dottore. I have lunch with the other agents!" Ah, another party that's been hogging your attention.
"You know, this job has been pretty fun, Dottore! Everyone's real nice, we make jokes, I get to write about interesting things..." You continued to go on about the research and while usually he'd be intrigued by your findings, this time he had enough.
Dottore picked you up like a long cat as you squealed from the sudden grasping.
"What are you doing?!"
"You're coming with me," was his cut and dry response as he lifted you into his arms.
"B-But I have to work on the big report for Pantalone!" Dottore's eye twitched at the mention of the banker.
"Someone else can."
"But I-"
"I'm not listening to anything you say further," he plainly said as he walked with you cuddled into his chest as you gawked at him.
Could he be... jealous? A wee bit lonely? You kept your guesses to yourself as he eventually bought you back to his room and laid you on his bed, not even saying anything to you before sitting at his desk.
Did he simply miss your presence that much? You felt a bit bad neglecting your lovers that much. But to be fair, they kinda did the same... sometimes. You got up to console your silly husband, who was just a man in your hands.
"Hey... I missed you too, dear husband... but I had to make sure no one stole the title of best assistant from me!" Dottore only sighed at your foolishness.
Of course no one could ever replace you.
"I know you'd rather die than admit it... but don't worry. You're lucky I'm sensitive to your feelings," you teased as you kissed the top of his mask. "I'll pay more attention to you and the segments, before they cause another headache for you, love. You'll give me some vacation time off, right?"
You laughed at your own joke before Dottore pulled you into his lap, biting down hard on your neck.
"Beloved, would you care to join me in discussing your work?"
"You fool, they're obviously coming to my lab to activate a new Ruin Machine."
"But [Name] is supposed to play with me today!!"
"As if, they're far too busy to join you all with your silly games."
"You all will stress them out with this arguing. Now, why don't you join me instead for a cup of coffee instead?"
"Grr, gr gr, grr!"
It was good to be loved so deeply.
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fvsm4x · 1 day ago
Text
𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐
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synopsis. Pregnancy, usually a positive outcome of love between two partners that love each other deeply. But Pregnancy resulting from someone using you for their own pleasure is far from a positive outcome
+ warning/content. bully Gojo Satoru x female reader - reader is pregnant - mentions of abortion - mature themes/MDNI - usual warnings - suguru and reader are siblings - gojo is a fuckboy - angst angst angst:))
+ word count. 4.9k
a/n. Been a while since i‘ve updated this series…
<-previous - series mlist - next->
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As your mother and father stormed out of your room, they slammed the door with a force that rattled the walls, leaving you alone with your brother in the suffocating silence that followed. The finality of that door slamming shut felt like an ominous punctuation—a statement that there was no turning back.
You stood frozen, your heart pounding so loudly that it drowned out the echo of their footsteps retreating down the hall. A knot tightened in your throat as the weight of their words crashed over you, a tidal wave of shame and dread. You forced yourself to take deep, steady breaths, trying desperately to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. The last thing you wanted was for your brother to see you like this—vulnerable, broken, on the verge of falling apart.
Is that it? you wondered, panic clawing at your insides. Is this really it? Am I actually getting kicked out? The thought left you feeling hollow, like everything you had ever counted on had been stripped away in a single, merciless instant.
Your mind raced, leaping to thoughts of your future—or what little was left of it. Everything you’d worked for, everything you’d dreamed of, felt like it was slipping through your fingers, unraveling faster than you could piece it back together. You could see the edges of your life falling away. Your education, your home, the support you once took for granted. All of it was disappearing, leaving only the stark reality of an uncertain path ahead.
You clenched your hands, digging your nails into your palms to anchor yourself, trying to stave off the wave of despair building inside you. It felt like your world was caving in, each piece of your carefully planned life crumbling in a way that seemed beyond repair.
Your brother shifted beside you, breaking the silence as he cleared his throat, his face etched with worry. He reached out a tentative hand, hovering as if unsure whether to comfort you or respect the fragile space you’d created between yourself and your emotions.
Your brother’s hand finally found your shoulder, his touch gentle but grounding. His silence spoke louder than words, and for a moment, it was all you could rely on. Even though he didn’t know what to say, his presence gave you something solid to hold onto in the midst of the chaos unraveling inside you.
“You don’t have to leave,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “They’re just… angry. They’ll come around. Maybe if we just talk to them tomorrow, things will calm down.”
You shook your head, the harsh reality already settling into place. “No, Suguru.. you heard them. They were serious. They want me gone.”
He looked down, his brows knitted together in frustration. “But where will you go? You can’t just… be out there by yourself.” The helplessness in his voice mirrored your own fear, but even he didn’t have a solution.
You glanced around your room—the bed you’d grown up in, the books you’d loved and underlined, the photos on the wall capturing fragments of happier moments, times when things were simpler, manageable. Each item felt like a piece of the life you were about to lose, like a museum of memories that would soon be locked away from you forever.
The silence between you and your brother grew heavy, and as much as you wanted to break it, words failed you. What could you say? That you’d made a mistake? That you hadn’t meant for any of this to happen? (You hadn‘t) But they all sounded hollow, too small to carry the weight of what you were facing.
Finally, your brother spoke, his voice determined. “You don’t have to do this alone. We’ll figure something out. You can live at my apartment—until you have a plan, at least. I don‘t really use it, so don‘t worry. I’ll help you. Whatever you need, I’ll be here.”
His words offered a sliver of hope, but even as you nodded, uncertainty lingered. You knew your brother meant well, but deep down, you both understood how complicated it would be for him to go against your parents’ wishes. They’d raised him with the same expectations, the same rules—and while his heart was with you, his loyalty was torn.
But still, the idea of having somewhere to go, even if only temporarily, softened the blow just enough for you to breathe.
“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely audible, but your gratitude was genuine. You reached for him, wrapping your arms around him tightly. The hug was the only comfort you had at that moment, the only thing anchoring you against the overwhelming feeling of loss and uncertainty.
After a long silence, he pulled back slightly, his face determined. “Go pack a few things. Whatever you need tonight. We’ll get out of here quietly. I’ll take care of the rest.”
-
Gojo leaned back in his chair, the squeak of the metal legs against the floor barely audible over the low murmur of his classmates. He absentmindedly tapped a pen against his notebook, the rhythmic click-click of it matching the unease simmering in his chest. His gaze drifted out the classroom window, where the afternoon sun cast long shadows on the pavement. It had been weeks since he’d last seen you, and that last encounter in the classroom felt like it had happened yesterday, every moment still vividly etched in his mind.
He recalled the way the quiet hum of the school’s empty corridors amplified every sound—the soft, breathy gasps you made, the rush of your breathing as he pressed you against the cool surface of the wall. It was intoxicating, each detail replaying in his head like a film on repeat. But oddly enough, it pained him that he hadn’t seen you since then.
At first, he shrugged it off, convincing himself that you were just playing hard-to-get or perhaps needed some space after everything that had happened. After all, it wasn’t uncommon for someone to need time to collect themselves after an encounter with him— he had that effect on people. But as the days turned into weeks, that initial dismissal turned into a dull, nagging worry that gnawed at him.
Gojo tried to push the thoughts aside, telling himself that you’d show up eventually, that it was just a phase. But your absence had created an odd emptiness in his daily routine, a persistent itch he couldn’t quite scratch. He was used to you being there, your presence a strange but comforting constant, and now that comfort was replaced with a gnawing curiosity.
Then there was Suguru, your brother, whose steady presence at school made everything feel even stranger. He carried on with his day as though nothing had changed, greeting Gojo with his usual casual indifference, yet he never mentioned you. Gojo found himself watching Suguru more closely than he intended, searching for any hint or sign that might explain your absence. He could feel the itch of curiosity clawing at him, but part of him resisted asking outright. He didn’t want to seem like he cared too much, but every time he spotted Suguru without you, that curiosity intensified.
Had something happened to you? Did you get sick? Or had you simply decided to avoid him? The thought was uncomfortably unsettling, and he brushed it aside, frustrated with himself for even considering it.
It was frustrating. Gojo couldn’t quite understand why you were occupying so much of his mind. At first, he tried to blame it on Suguru—your brother was a constant reminder of you, after all—but he’d grown accustomed to that long ago. It wasn’t like him to fixate on anyone, especially someone who usually melted into the background. And yet, here he was, replaying that last encounter in his mind, scanning hallways, and lingering just a bit longer outside your classes, hoping to catch a glimpse of you.
He could chalk it up to boredom, a simple distraction to stave off the monotony of his day-to-day life. But deep down, he knew that there was something more than that. The thrill of teasing you, the way your face would scrunch up in irritation when he pushed you down in the hallways—it was strangely addictive. You had become his little victim, a source of amusement that made the slow days feel bearable. Now that you were gone, it left a void he couldn’t fill.
He hated admitting it, but he missed picking on you. The thought made his jaw clench, and a twisted grin crept across his face. Maybe he’d overestimated his hold over you, convinced that you would always be there for him to mess with. Or perhaps this was some kind of game you were playing, deliberately making him feel your absence, and it annoyed him even more.
Days continued to pass without a sign of you, and then, one morning, Suguru didn’t show up to school. Gojo was caught off guard by the emptiness in the usual spots where he’d see his friend. Normally, Suguru was as dependable as clockwork, always showing up right on time, effortlessly composed and ready to move through the day. Gojo couldn’t help but feel a strange twist in his stomach, wondering if something had happened. Maybe Suguru’s absence was tied to yours?
When Suguru finally returned the next day, he looked…off. His usually neat hair was slightly disheveled, his clothes a bit rumpled. There was an exhausted heaviness in his steps, and dark shadows under his eyes made him look as though he hadn’t slept all night. Gojo’s eyes followed him as he trudged through the school halls, quieter than usual, avoiding small talk and slipping into his seat without so much as a glance at anyone.
It was unlike Suguru to be this way. He barely looked up during the lunch break, barely mumbled a response when someone tried to talk to him. And Gojo could feel the unspoken weight hanging over him like a shadow—an air of tension, of something strained and unresolved. It made Gojo’s curiosity burn even stronger, a gnawing need to know what had happened.
But when Gojo finally approached him, Suguru only glanced up, his gaze tired and distant, and muttered a soft, “Not today, Satoru.” There was a finality in his tone, a closed-off energy that Gojo hadn’t seen before. It was clear that Suguru was carrying something heavy, something he wasn’t ready—or willing—to share.
And somehow, that only made his thoughts drift back to you. The emptiness left by your absence grew sharper, more pointed, and with it came a sinking feeling that whatever was happening with Suguru…was connected to you.
Gojo scoffed, shaking his head at himself as he tried to push thoughts of you aside. Why was he even letting you get to him? It wasn’t like him to dwell on anyone, let alone someone who’d gone MIA after a single hookup. He had more important things to think about—better distractions to keep himself entertained. Besides, if you were going to play hard-to-get or whatever this was, then that was on you.
With a lazy smirk, he glanced around the classroom, letting his gaze settle on a few familiar faces. Plenty of girls would kill for his attention— he didn’t need to waste any more time thinking about you. He’d spent weeks hoping for some sign of you, but maybe it was time he reminded himself of how easy it was to move on.
After class, he slipped out of the room, his stride slow and confident as he scanned the hallways. Within minutes, he found what he was looking for—an upperclassman lingering by her locker, eyeing him with a coy smile. He’d seen her around before, noticed the way her gaze lingered whenever he passed by.
Perfect.
With a quick sweep of his hair, he put on that easy charm, the one that always drew people in, and walked over, leaning casually against the lockers beside her. “Hey,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “Long day?”
The girl blinked, caught off guard for a second before her lips curled into a smile. “Not anymore,” she replied, a blush creeping up her cheeks.
Gojo grinned, already shifting into the familiar rhythm of flirting that he knew so well. Within moments, they were leaning close, sharing secretive whispers and low laughs, her hand resting on his arm as she hung onto every word he said. He had a way of making them feel special, as if they were the only person in the world. He knew exactly what to say, how to let his gaze linger just long enough to make them squirm.
As he let the conversation drift into something more suggestive, he found himself glancing around, almost instinctively, half-expecting to catch a glimpse of you walking by. He mentally cursed himself for it, forcing himself to focus on the girl in front of him, but there was still that nagging sense of dissatisfaction. Even though he had her wrapped around his finger, it didn’t feel quite the same. She was willing, easy, and there was no thrill, no challenge. It felt…hollow.
For a moment, he wondered if this was just another way to forget you, a way to scratch an itch that wasn’t going away as easily as he’d hoped. The idea bothered him, and he dismissed it as quickly as it came. You didn’t matter—he was Gojo Satoru. He had girls practically throwing themselves at him every day. There was no reason he should be hung up on you.
-
The apartment was quiet—too quiet. Days slipped by in a gray monotony as you tried to settle into a space that felt as foreign as a stranger’s closet. There was nothing in the room that felt like you, just the sparse furniture your brother had left behind: a sagging couch with sunken cushions, a bed pushed awkwardly against the wall, and a handful of mismatched kitchen items. There were no family photos, no cozy blankets, not even a single potted plant to add life to the place. It was a hollow shell, his empty, seldom-used apartment, and now it was yours—a place to hide, but far from a home.
When you first came here, you thought you might be able to reach out, maybe even find comfort in a friend’s familiar voice. But the silence on the other end of the line grew heavier with each unanswered message. Some of your texts were left unread, others were marked “seen” and ignored. You’d started to convince yourself that somehow, they knew. They had to know about your mistake, your situation, and it was easier for them to turn away than to get involved. You could almost imagine their silent judgment, the whispers they might share when you weren’t around.
You felt backed into a corner, as if the world had abandoned you just when you needed it most. The shame felt insurmountable, an invisible wall that stopped you from trying again, that convinced you this loneliness was what you deserved.
You could barely feel it —the life inside you, growing silently, quietly, but undeniably there. Sometimes, you’d catch yourself resting a hand on your stomach without even realizing, feeling for something that wasn’t quite there yet, but knowing soon it would be. A thousand questions swirled in your mind. What kind of life would this child have? Would they hate you for the world you brought them into, for the choices you’d made that they would have to live with? The thought was like a chill running through your veins, paralyzing and real in a way nothing else was.
Then, late at night, as the hours stretched out, other thoughts would creep in—thoughts you tried to push away, but that stubbornly returned. Abortion. You felt the word like a weight in your chest, a tightness that you couldn’t swallow, but that was always there. In the dead silence of the apartment, you sometimes let yourself entertain the thought, if only for a moment, thinking how much easier it might be to turn away from this path. But then the guilt would wash over you, sinking deeper with every beat of your heart. It was a decision you couldn’t bring yourself to make, no matter how overwhelming everything felt.
You weren’t even sure you could hold your own life together, let alone bring another one into it. You hated feeling so trapped, as though every choice led to pain, no matter what you did. The idea of being a mother, of taking on this monumental responsibility, filled you with a dread that was hard to admit. It was as if each new day only added to a burden you were too afraid to carry yet too scared to set down. The future felt murky and shadowed, a looming unknown that swallowed up every glimmer of hope.
Sometimes, you’d find yourself standing by the window, gazing down at the quiet, dimly lit street below, lost in thoughts of an alternate life. What would it feel like to walk away from all this weight, to leave the fear and uncertainty behind? You let yourself imagine it—a life where you were free again, unburdened. But even as the fantasy flickered in your mind, there was a small, stubborn part of you that held on, that whispered maybe. Maybe you could carry this through. Maybe, despite everything, you could find a way to make this work.
To keep yourself grounded, you tried to build a routine. Every morning, you’d scroll through endless job listings, though each one felt like a reminder of the uncertainty surrounding you. Most positions didn’t seem right or possible for you now, but you kept looking. It was something to hold onto, some kind of structure when everything else felt like it was slipping through your fingers. You even organized the sparse kitchen, setting up the cabinets with a kind of precise care, as if putting things in order on the outside could bring some calm to the chaos inside.
One evening, as you sat cross-legged on the couch, the hum of distant traffic barely filled the silence. You stared at your phone screen, absentmindedly picking at a loose thread on the couch cushion. Loneliness settled over you, thick and heavy, amplified by the silence that had become so familiar. It was almost stifling, forcing you to confront thoughts you’d tried hard to avoid.
You missed your family, even if things between you had become strained. You missed the comforting predictability of home, the familiar sounds, the routine. Here, each day felt hollow and directionless, like floating in a fog with no sense of where you were headed. Sometimes, you’d sit there waiting, hoping for something to change, some sign that things would be okay, but the realization that it was entirely up to you weighed heavily.
A knock at the door jolted you out of your thoughts, sharp and unexpected in the stillness. Your heart gave a nervous jump as you hesitated, then forced yourself to cross the room. The apartment was usually so quiet, every sound amplified in the emptiness, and this interruption felt almost intrusive. Taking a breath to steady yourself, you opened the door to see the mailman standing there, holding a small, official-looking envelope in his hand.
“Here you go. Have a nice day,” he said with a nod, handing it over before turning to leave.
You mumbled a thank-you, barely audible, closing the door slowly as you stared down at the envelope. The stiff paper, the way your name was printed in impersonal black ink—it all radiated a sense of cold formality that sent a wave of dread curling in your stomach. You tore it open with shaking hands, telling yourself it was probably just another notice, a formality from the school.
But as your eyes scanned the letter, a sickening realization washed over you. It wasn’t just a reminder or a request for information. It was a notification—a final, official statement that you’d been dropped from school because of unpaid tuition. Your parents had stopped covering your fees without any warning, leaving the balance unpaid. And because you hadn’t attended in weeks, the school had processed it as a withdrawal.
You read the words again, trying to make sense of them, as if they would change on a second pass. But they stayed the same, cold and unyielding, spelling out a reality you hadn’t prepared for. The letter offered no alternatives, no appeal. Either you somehow paid the balance yourself, or you would be permanently removed from the roster.
A numb disbelief settled over you as you sank onto the couch, clutching the letter tightly. They’d actually done it. They’d cut you off without a word, leaving you adrift, stripped of the one place you’d thought you could depend on. A mix of anger and hurt bubbled up inside you, but the betrayal was what stung the most.
Your mind raced, thoughts colliding in a frantic spiral. What would you do now? Leaving school meant giving up on so many things—dreams you’d quietly held onto, plans that seemed so certain not long ago. It was like everything you’d worked toward, every late night studying and early morning hustle, had been erased in an instant. This wasn’t just a setback— it felt like a wall you’d crashed into with no way around.
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you swallowed them back, forcing yourself to press your lips into a hard line. There was no one you could turn to for help, no one who could wave a magic wand and fix this.
You sat there on the couch, feeling the weight of the letter in your hand like a stone, its meaning sinking in deeper and deeper. The room seemed even colder, emptier, as if the walls themselves were closing in on you. Every step you’d taken had been building toward something, and now that path was gone, wiped away in the span of a single letter.
No matter what mistakes you’d made, you’d never expected your own family to cut you off 𝐬𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲. You wanted to scream, to call them, to make them hear you and see what they’d done—but that door felt closed too, like an argument already lost. The bitter realization settled in— of course they weren’t going to reach out- they weren’t going to help. Afterall, they were the ones that kicked you out in the first place.
You glanced down at your phone, your fingers hovering over the screen as you debated sending another message to one of your friends. Maybe you could explain everything, maybe they’d understand, maybe they’d reach back and give you a lifeline. But a familiar fear held you back. The weight of your situation, your mistake, felt too heavy to burden anyone else with, and every time you imagined reaching out, a voice in the back of your mind reminded you that they hadn’t been there for you before. Why would they be there now?
The silence in the apartment grew louder, pressing in on you until it was almost unbearable. Desperate for a distraction, you got up and wandered aimlessly through the small space, moving things around on the counter, straightening the already-neat cupboards, just doing anything to keep your hands busy. But the distraction was short-lived, and the reality of your situation crept back in.
The future felt terrifyingly empty, an open void where all your plans used to be. The only clear thing was that you had no other choice now but to figure this out on your own. Slowly, a stubborn resolve began to build beneath the panic. You were here, alone, but that didn’t mean you had to stay stuck. Maybe, somehow, you could make this work. You could find a job, save up, find a way to get back into school. It felt like an impossible task, but it was the only path left.
With a deep breath, you grabbed your laptop and opened up a job-search site, scrolling through the endless list of options. Most were dead ends—part-time retail or night shifts that didn’t even pay enough to cover the rent suguru is payinh. But you forced yourself to keep looking, moving through page after page, searching for anything that might be a start, a way forward.
The hours slipped by, the weight of the decision settling over you like a cold blanket, but you kept scrolling, kept hoping that something would spark the possibility of change.
After what felt like hours scrolling through listings and filling out applications, your eyes grew tired, the screen blurring in front of you. You needed air, space to breathe, to feel something other than the weight pressing down on your chest. With a sigh, you closed your laptop, abandoning it on the couch, and made your way over to the small balcony just off the living room.
Stepping outside, you were greeted by the crisp night air, a chill that wrapped around you, cutting through the dullness. The street below was quiet, dim streetlights casting long shadows across the empty pavement. Leaning against the railing, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, letting the cold settle into your skin, grounding you, if only for a moment. The city felt vast from here, stretching out endlessly, full of people going about their lives, yet here you were, feeling like the only one left adrift.
As you opened your eyes, you gazed out over the neighborhood, the distant hum of cars a low, steady comfort. For a fleeting moment, you felt a strange sense of freedom, as if up here on this balcony, the problems inside couldn’t quite reach you. It was quiet, peaceful even, the world below carrying on, oblivious to your struggles.
You’d imagined such a different future, one where you’d be surrounded by friends, pursuing your passions, finding yourself. But now? It all felt like a distant memory, something that had happened to someone else entirely.
The sky above was cloudy, with only a few stars managing to peek through. You stared up, trying to find some kind of sign, something to remind you that you weren’t entirely alone, that maybe there was still a chance for things to change.
You stayed there a while, letting the cold numb the tension in your body, staring into the distance, thinking about what you’d do next. The thought of reaching out for help gnawed at you, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to take that step. Maybe it was pride, or maybe it was just the fear of rejection. Either way, you knew that whatever came next would be up to you.
Your gaze drifted downward, tracing the shapes of the buildings, the shadows cast by streetlights, when a familiar flash of white caught your eye. Your heart clenched involuntarily. Gojo.
He was strolling down the sidewalk, his stride as arrogant and carefree as ever, his laughter echoing faintly up toward you. His arm was draped around the shoulders of a girl who leaned into him, her face turned up toward him with a bright smile, entirely captivated. They looked close, intimate, like they were the only two people in the world. Watching them, a dull ache pulsed in your chest, stirring a cocktail of emotions you didn’t want to face.
You gripped the railing tighter, your knuckles whitening. Memories clawed their way up, memories of him—of his smirk, his mocking words, the way he’d cornered you like he had every right. Gojo had always been cruel, but he wielded his charm like a weapon, drawing people in only to watch them squirm when he showed his true colors. He had treated you the same way, toying with you, using you, and then discarding you without a second thought.
The girl beside him had no idea, you thought bitterly. She was seeing the Gojo who played his part so well, the smooth talker, the charmer, the boy who seemed like he could do no wrong. But you knew better. You knew what lay beneath that mask, the callousness he could hide behind his easy smiles. And now, there he was, laughing without a care, completely untouched by everything he’d done to you, while you were left to piece yourself back together.
A cold, bitter anger welled up inside you, mingling with the helplessness you tried so hard to ignore. He had stolen something from you—something you could never get back. He is the reason you got kicked out and have a hard life now.
And yet here he was, walking down the street as if nothing had happened, as if you didn’t exist, a careless reminder of how easily he’d been able to walk away from the pain he’d caused.
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ghostlyglimmer · 8 hours ago
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OHH, this is such a fun idea, I had to whip up something based on this!
It had all gone downhill fast.
The plan had been Dick’s idea—though Tim and Jason definitely could have pointed out the glaring holes in it, and Damian hadn’t exactly offered his usual dose of cynicism. It was supposed to be a quick, in-and-out operation. Minimal risk, maximum payoff.
But things got complicated when that guy showed up. Just some kid, and not even a vigilante or a rogue. It was supposed to be a straightforward job in Gotham’s shadier district—stop the exchange of a highly dangerous chemical, break up the bad guys, be home in time for breakfast. But, no, some civilian had gotten in the way and distracted the gangsters long enough to mess with their timing.
As Jason would tell it later, “It was just bad luck.” As Bruce would say, “It was complete negligence.”
And as for Danny? Well, he didn’t have much of a say in it. Not that he was about to back down from a bunch of armed gangsters, especially with the Batkids swooping in around him, leaving chaos and knocked-out criminals in their wake. Danny had handled a few of them before they even showed up, quietly taking out the last of them when Bruce finally stepped in.
And now they were here, a tense, heated argument in a dark Gotham alley.
“You should have waited for backup!” Bruce snapped, his voice slicing through their squabbles. “I told you it was a risk to go in alone—especially when we didn’t have all the intel! This is about safety, and clearly—”
“Right, clearly we were fine until you stepped in,” Jason shot back, scowling.
“It would have gone smoothly if someone didn’t just happen to be there,” Dick muttered, clearly feeling defensive.
“It was your idea, Grayson!” Tim hissed, his voice laden with frustration. “Don’t turn this around.”
“Maybe if you’d listened—”
Damian scoffed. “I could have handled them on my own.”
Bruce’s frown deepened, and he turned to Danny, who was awkwardly inching his way toward the exit.
“And don’t think you’re getting out of this,” Bruce said, turning his Batglare on him. “You’re grounded too.”
Danny froze, one foot halfway lifted in a tippy-toe pose. “I… I’m sorry, what?”
The Batkids stopped mid-argument and looked at Danny, then back at Bruce, then at each other, as if piecing something together. Dick’s face morphed from irritation to confusion; Jason’s went slack.
“Uh… Mr. Batman, sir, with all due respect, I’m just some guy,” Danny said slowly, staring at Bruce. “Can… Can Batman even do that?”
“Everyone in the Batmobile,” Bruce said firmly, ignoring Danny’s question. “We’ll discuss this further in the morning.”
Danny, still too stunned to process much beyond “Batman grounded me,” felt himself nodding along. Guess we’re going with it.
The ride was silent and tense. Jason looked broody, arms crossed, staring out the window. Tim rubbed his temples, probably rethinking every tactical choice. Dick was sulking, and Damian, surprisingly, just looked mad at being lumped in with the others. Danny, meanwhile, stayed very still, wedged between Tim and Jason, trying not to breathe too loudly. It was a surreal experience—he was tired, his limbs ached, and his brain was reeling from the absurdity of it all, but it was Batman. The Batmobile wasn’t exactly the place to make his objections.
By the time they reached the Batcave, Danny figured he’d try for some clarity.
“Uh,” he started, looking around at the cavernous space, vast and impressive, filled with tech and lights. “So, do you mind if I, uh, call my family to tell them I won’t be home tonight?”
The entire cave fell silent. Jason froze mid-complaint, Dick and Tim stopped sulking, and Damian’s scowl melted into shock. All four of them stared at Danny, and then slowly, like someone had hit pause, their heads turned to look at Bruce.
He seemed unbothered, glancing at Danny as if this were just standard procedure. But for everyone else, the realization was dawning. Dick was the first to speak, his voice wavering.
“Uh… Bruce?” Dick asked slowly, eyebrows raised. “Did… Did you kidnap a civilian?”
Bruce frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Jason burst out laughing, doubling over, his hands clutching his sides. “Oh, this is gold. He’s not even a rogue, B. He’s just some random guy you told to get in the car!”
Danny held up his hands. “In my defense, it was Batman, okay? Who’s going to not get in the Batmobile when Batman tells you you’re grounded?”
Tim covered his face with both hands, muffling his laugh. Damian scowled, crossing his arms.
“This is embarrassing,” he muttered. “Father, you’re losing credibility by the second.”
Bruce’s expression tightened, clearly irked by the fact that his kids’ attention had wandered from the initial issue. They had disobeyed him, endangered a civilian, and now they were laughing because, okay, maybe he had unintentionally forced said civilian to join them in the Batcave.
He sighed, rubbing his temples, clearly rethinking several recent decisions.
“Alright,” Bruce finally said. “My apologies. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and you don’t need to be here. We’ll get you a ride back home.”
Danny blinked, a little surprised. “So, wait, I’m not grounded?”
“No, you’re not grounded,” Bruce replied, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Jason snickered. “Damn, you got off easy. We’re grounded for sure.”
Bruce cleared his throat, and the smiles faded from the other Batkids’ faces. “Yes, you’re grounded,” he said, looking at each of them in turn. “All of you.”
They groaned in unison, but Danny, relieved beyond measure, was already edging toward the door. He nodded a quick thank you to Batman and managed a small, awkward wave to the others.
As he left, he could hear Dick muttering, “Grounded… from what? We’re grown men!”
Jason groaned. “Grounded as in, no solo missions, genius.”
Danny paused, letting the sounds of the Batfamily’s complaints echo behind him as he took the lift back to ground level. He shook his head, chuckling. Only in Gotham. Only with Batman would you end up “grounded” for just existing in the wrong place at the wrong time.
But hey—at least he got a free ride in the Batmobile out of it.
Imagine the batkids fuck up major and a batdad had to step in and clean up their mistake
Everyone kinda embarrassed because of their blunder and Jason is lashing out to protect himself from shame
Dick is joining is cause well he feels bad about it being his idea
Now Tim is arguing too
Damian wants to feel involved and u can’t convince me other wise
Bruce is trying ti make a point about safety thats just fully derailed
Anyway Danny as Fenton is just there in the background around all the bad guys he took out before Bruce actually got there like “awkward” but the moment he tries to just tippytoe his way out Bruce turns to point at him “and don’t think you are getting out of this. Your grounded too”
He just freezes. Can batman do that? Is he legally allowed to do that? Wait what does Batman mean by grounded?!!? Whats his move here.
“Everyone in the batmobile we will discuss this more in the morning”
Oh ok thats his move. Ok yea Batman just grounded him. He better go.
So they r having the ride home and everyone is sulking and Danny is just there confused but doesn’t say anything because hes probably tired and it’s batman wtf you gonna do.
So they are at the cave and Danny finally just “so can I call my family to tell them I wont be home tonight?”
You everyone just stops. And slowly turns to face him. “Ah yea dumb question. I guess uhhh no phones huh?” No one moves. Everyone is pretty shocked. Cause one bruce kidnapped some kid. Two theres a civi in the batcave. Three bruce kidnapped some fucking kid. Four some random kid just got in the car with them. Five holy fuck bruce kidnapped some kid.
Breaks over enjoy post
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endless-ineffabilities · 2 days ago
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chemical override (13)
Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader
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a/n: the elections distracted me! This should have been up ages ago 💙 Anyhow, look at our boy pout up there. Darling never stood a chance.
series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist
Darling gets closer to making her choice.
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The holiday is already shaping up to be your most memorable one yet, and it’s only halfway done. 
Between all the commotion in the press about Ewan’s film, the lively spin-the-bottle game last night, and your… boys being more brazen in their affections, it doesn’t matter that you’re still half-limping and that one gorgeous blonde girl is testing the limits of your patience—Mallorca is one for the books.
Half of your vacation crew decided to head out into town for the afternoon, allowing you to see more of the local scene. Bethany, Phia, Luke, and Elliott have ventured off to see some shops moments prior, promising to rejoin the group with loads of goodies. So you walk the cobblestone streets with Tom and Freddie on either side, the lads promising to catch you should your ankle ‘betray you and make you faceplant on the street’. 
Because, as Freddie put it, they “can’t have the show’s rising star with a blow to her money-maker,” pertaining to your lovely face. 
You were able to finally remove your fracture boot that morning, after a long-distance call to your doctor, but you still have to slightly drag your left leg as you walk.
“Mate, if you could hurry up a little, maybe we can see more of the town,” Tom remarks with a cheeky smirk. He’s had an arm looped around yours the whole time, ever on the lookout. 
“Sure, let me just use my incredible powers of self-healing. Maybe we can check one of these souvenir shops if they’ve got a bionic leg on sale,” you deadpan, fighting hard to stifle a laugh. 
The fledgling weeks of spring bring a steady warmth to Mallorca. The sunlight is bright yet tempered as it casts its glow over the cobblestone streets, illuminating the quaint storefronts and cafes that line that town square. It’s a picture-perfect afternoon, so long as you don’t turn back to Ewan and Louise who are trailing a bit behind. 
But your curiosity wins over, and you see Ewan smiling politely as Louise gestures animatedly, completely absorbed in her tale. You immediately realise your mistake, a pang of something—guilt, longing, confusion… and jealousy, because who are you fooling—tightening in your chest. You quickly turn back to Tom and Freddie, who are too busy scheming to notice your reaction.
“So, do we let Ewan suffer, or do we intervene?” Tom asks, tilting his head toward the pair.
You can only shrug. “I think he’s handling it. It’s probably better to give them some space.” The truth is, you know Ewan well enough to sense when he’s at his wit’s end, and even though he looks like he’s about to throw in the towel, you don’t want to complicate things further. 
Who are you to deny Louise some quality time with your good buddy Ewan Mitchell? He is a stand-up guy, after all, and all of you are friends here. It’s a casual day out, nothing but a good time. 
And… you do need some time to let his confession sink in. He has given the power to you, and the only thing left to do would be to choose him.
You love him, you love him, you love him. 
So the choice should be easy, but why isn’t it?
Freddie smirks. “Space, you say? You mean you’re hoping he’ll finally snap and make a break for it?”
“Maybe,” you admit with a small smile. “Can you blame him?”
The three of you linger by a cafe, chatting to your heart’s delight. You catch sight of Ewan glancing your way, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. Hey, he mouths, staring you down until Louise nudges him, and he has to shift his focus back to her. 
“Honestly, though,” Tom continues, “what’s the deal with him and Louise? He looks like he’s drowning over there.”
“Maybe she’s finally wearing him down,” you say, half-joking, but you’re aware of how often Ewan gives too much of himself sometimes, especially to someone like Louise. The boy’s just too sweet and polite to say no. 
“I give him five minutes before he either leaves or starts shouting for you,” Freddie chimes in, his eyes dancing behind his sunglasses. “It’s a safe bet.”
Before you can respond, Ewan’s voice rises above the clamour of the street. “Actually, that’s not what I meant—”
“I can’t believe you thought that!” Louise interrupts, playfully punching Ewan’s arm, her tone a mix of disbelief and enthusiasm. “But that’s what makes you so unique! You always see things differently.”
What’s unique is the expression Ewan sports as a reaction, akin to a deer about to be hit by a Jeep.
“Unique?” Ewan repeats, a note of incredulity in his voice. He shakes his head, his mouth falling open, like he’s trying to find the words. Louise leans in closer, mentioning something about how cute he looks when confused. 
Well, she’s not wrong there. You have to hand it to her—she’s persistent.
“Why are we just standing around?” Tom suddenly says. “Let’s get some drinks. We need to fuel up for the gossip you owe us.”
“I’m in,” you say a bit too quickly, desperate for a distraction. You motion toward a quaint nearby bar with a bustling atmosphere. It seems like the perfect refuge, far from the intensity of the current situation. The bartender greets you with a grin, and Tom takes charge, ordering a round of brightly-coloured cocktails that seem to match the vibe of the holiday. 
Tom gives you a sly look over his glass. “So here we are, eh?”
“Here we are,” you nod, sensing something coming round the corner. 
“My god, this cocktail is amazing!” Freddie gasps dramatically, oblivious to the look you and Tom are sharing. “I must know what’s in this… Is that gin and… and what?”
“I myself would rather know,” Tom begins, leaning forward, “about the truth behind all the drama. The are-they-or-aren’t-they of it all. My missus has also been bugging me about it. All she talks about is you and your Ewan.” 
Freddie’s grin is huge as he raises his glass. “Bloody hell, cheers to that then! I know there’s something brewing, but no one ever tells me the details. What is this, a fight to the death? May the best Targaryen win? Lucky girl you are.”
Tom snorts. “Or may the right man win. Which, to be honest, is not Matt in this scenario.”
Freddie’s jaw drops in mock horror, clutching his chest. You may take the lad out of classical theatre for a while, but you can’t take classical theatre out of the lad. “Excuse me? Matt is a national treasure, he’s mature and reliable, and he throws a fabulous party. Might I mention how highly he speaks of you?”
Tom shoots him a scornful look. “Reliable. How riveting. Look, I love the guy, but Ewan’s practically half of her soul—”
You groan. “Can we not turn this into a debate? I’m actually trying to keep things simple now.”
“Simple,” Tom repeats, one blonde eyebrow arching. “Darling, nothing about this is simple, especially not since Ewan isn’t bound to that ridiculous PR setup anymore. Are you going to pretend that it doesn't change things?”
Freddie waves a finger. “It doesn’t have to change things. Matt’s good for her. I mean, they’re actually happy, and you need someone solid, love. Someone who isn’t going to fling you around emotionally, from the very little that I’ve heard.”
Tom rolls his eyes. “Of course, you’d think that. You get all your goss from Liv and she basically adores Matt.”
Freddie clutches his glass defensively. “Well I know for a fact that Matt is fun! And steady! You don’t need fireworks all the time to make something work.”
“But fireworks are the whole point, you know?” Tom insists. “You can’t reduce a relationship to sensible compatibility and call it love.”
“Love can be practical too,” Freddie says, looking at you. “Wouldn’t it be nice to just…breathe? To not have to worry about how he’s going to handle things every other minute?”
You wince, half-convinced by Freddie’s logic, but then Tom’s voice cuts in, softer, more serious.
“Sure, she could breathe,” Tom says, “but let’s not forget who actually takes her breath away.”
It hits you, the truth you’ve been dancing around with both of them.
Freddie gives you a sidelong look. “Alright, love, confession time. Say Ewan was still bound to that PR relationship, do you really think you could have handled not being with him? Watching him essentially be with someone else?”
You swallow, glancing down at your drink. “It would have hurt, but I would have had to handle it.”
Tom keeps the interrogation going. “And now? What would you do if he does end up with someone else? Louise seems to have her claws in him.”
You let out a huff, your next words decisive. “Look, if she can take him that easily, then he’s all hers.” Because that would mean all those heartfelt phrases about being so in love with you aren’t true. 
That’s the reasonable part of you. The other, less savoury part wouldn’t hesitate to get your own claws in Louise if she swoops in to take your man, petty catfight style.
“But see! See here,” Freddie exclaims in glee, “We’re talking about Ewan and she’s already stressed. She needs a break from the drama, Tom, and Matt is like… an oasis.”
Tom rolls his eyes but doesn’t let it go. “Sure, an oasis that leaves her wishing she were somewhere else half the time.” He sighs, his voice softening. “Look, Matt’s lovely, but he’s not the one. He’s not the one who can turn your whole world upside down, and I know you two. I’ve seen you together, I’ve seen you apart, and trust me, you’re so much better together. Hell, it’s better for all of us too! I simply cannot deal with Ewan moping around again.”
You feel your cheeks warm as you consider his words. It’s almost dizzying, trying to compare the two men, as though they represent opposite sides of you, each offering something you desperately need. They’re both right, in different ways. With Matt, there’s a sense of stability that you haven’t felt before. He’s steady, he’s sweet, and he genuinely adores you despite all of the tangled strings that have bound you to Ewan. 
But with Ewan… you want him, love him, with an intensity that is almost all-consuming. It’s the kind they write songs about, the kind that drives hearts crazy. 
Freddie drops the dramatics, his voice sincere when he speaks again. “Darling, Tom’s got a point, but just… be honest with yourself. What do you really want? Because whatever you decide, it’s your heart on the line. And you know, we’re here for you, no matter who you choose.” And then, as if with the flick of a switch, he turns his flair back on. “God, you could choose me, just so you don’t have to deal with this dilemma of yours anymore!”
You let out a breathy laugh, all the tension you’re feeling dissipating. “I just might!”
Tom mirrors your laughter. “Now that’s a dangerous idea. But hey, life’s short, right? You don’t have to have it all figured out right this second.”
Freddie grins, raising a toast. “To being a beautiful mess.”
You clink your glass with theirs, watching in amusement as they both begin bickering again over who’s really the better choice. As the debate drifts over to which drink to order next, a quiet but unmistakable presence makes its way to your table. Ewan stands behind you, his hands resting on the back of your chair. 
“I’ve been looking for you guys,” he greets calmly. 
Freddie doesn’t hesitate to take a playful jab. “Ah, Ewan! All by your lonesome now? Where’s your lady?”
Ewan perches on the last empty chair on your table, catching your eyes. “My lady’s right here,” he smirks, and he says the words with such ease that your cheeks heat. Everyone would benefit from taking lessons in the Ewan Mitchell School of Charm. “Fancy a walk, darling?”
You quickly glance at Tom and Freddie, whose raised brows practically tell you that they’re going to be chattering about this as soon as you’re out of earshot. “Try not to miss me too much, boys,” you wink at them, letting Ewan help you out of your seat and whisk you away. He offers his arm to you for support, and the two of you fall into stride, allowing the buzz of Mallorca’s streets to fill the quiet between you.
“So,” he starts, “I sure hope Tom and Freddie didn’t give you any trouble.”
“Nothing I can’t handle,” you smile, your tone lowering as you decide to tease him a little. “We would have invited you over, but you seemed to have plenty of… entertainment yourself.” You playfully wag your eyebrows at him, and he makes a show of groaning and turning away.
“Don’t remind me, my darling,” he groans. “I was so close to faking an illness and making my escape.”
You chuckle at his apparent distress. “Poor Ewan. It must be so hard being adored by a beautiful girl, isn’t it? Wait, where is she again? Did you scare her off?”
“Phia came to my rescue. They went walking by the bay or something, I don’t know. And about being adored, it only matters to me if it’s by you.”
You’re about to lean into a joke and call his bluff, when he adds, “Well, you… and my mum.”
“I thought so,” you giggle, his eyes holding yours with a familiar sweetness. But then his gaze is snagged by something behind you. 
“Is it just me, or does that cat look suspiciously like Sansa?” Ewan points to the front display of a rustic souvenir shop, and you immediately see a plush black cat with curious amber eyes.
You gasp softly, your hand tightening around his bicep. “I did leave Sansa back with my neighbour in London, right?”
“Are you sure? She’s right there, darling,” he plays along, grinning. “I think I’d recognise my daughter when I see her.”
“Your daughter, huh? The most you have right now is visitation rights.”
“Wait here, baby,” he presses a kiss to your temple, leaving you leaning against the wall across the shop. He disappears inside, emerging just moments later, the little cat plushie already in his hands. His expression is tender as he passes it to you. “Here. Figured you could use a bit of home.”
You take the little black cat, heart swelling at the sweetness of his gesture. “Thank you, Ewan. She’s perfect.”
He’s all smiles, his dimples deepening as he nods in response. 
You hug plush Sansa to your chest. “Now I wish they also had whippet plushies, so I can give you a piece of home too…” 
Ewan’s gaze softens, and he shifts slightly, his gaze dropping as he gathers his thoughts. “Darling, I hope you won’t think I’m just trying to score brownie points here or something, given the current situation, but honestly…” He hesitates, but makes up his mind as his eyes meet yours. “If I wanted to feel at home, all I really need is… to be with you.”
Your breath catches, and your mind is too focused on what you’ve just heard that your hold loosens around plush Sansa, causing it to nearly stumble out of your hands. 
“Ewan,” you say softly, your voice laced with an affection you can’t quite dampen. “You don’t play fair, you know that?”
He chuckles, a little self-conscious, his hand reaching for yours. “You know me, darling, and you know how I feel about you.” His thumb brushes over your knuckles, and the touch is light, almost reverent.
“So, no Sansa needed, huh?” you tease gently, trying to keep things light even as the weight of his words lingers. 
His smile returns, a little shy, a little playful. “You got that right. But maybe we don’t have to tell Sansa about this.”
You’re about to offer a witty rejoinder, when a cheerful shout slices through the air. “Ewan!” It’s Louise, her voice loud and undeniably eager, and you find yourself dropping Ewan’s hand. 
And either you’re not in her line of sight, or she just didn’t bother calling out to you too. What a delightful girl.
“Oh,” Louise finally acknowledges you. “That’s a nice… toy you’ve got there.”
“It’s a plushie actually,” you mutter dryly, wiggling plush Sansa in the air.
Ewan snorts at your deadpan expression, and much to Louise’s obvious annoyance, he drapes an arm around your shoulders, pulling you snugly against him. “I got it for her. It’s almost an exact replica of her cat, isn’t it, darling?”
Your eyes widen at his purposeful cheekiness. The lad has finally had enough of another girl trying to get a bite out of him. “Well, yeah…” you stumble on your words, “It does look like her.”
Louise pouts. “What a nice, friendly gesture.”
Ewan chuckles to himself, not letting her mood dampen his spirits. “I think it’s rather romantic.”
“Hold on,” Louise responds, appraising you with a raised eyebrow. “Aren’t you dating Matty?”
“Uhhh—”
“There you kids are!” Phia materialises out of thin air, an angel in disguise.
Oh, you could just kiss the very ground she walks on.
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Everyone makes their way to the pool area the next afternoon, the group scattered all around the lush backyard of the villa.
Matt lingers outside your door, waiting for you to finish changing. He leans casually against the railing, his gaze drifting downstairs to Fabien and Elliott, who are hauling crates of beer toward the poolside. He whistles and shouts out a playful, “Save me some, lads!”
“Waiting on your woman, Romeo?” Elliott sings up at him.
Matt waves them away, spinning around to face your door. As he waits, his mind drifts back to a conversation he had with Liv the evening before. She’d seen right through him, spotting the quiet insecurities he tried to keep buried and urging him to go all in with you, to show you what he couldn’t quite put into words. And so, he decided he would; he’d pour everything into showing you just how much he cared.
He has the advantage in that he hasn’t hurt you the way Ewan has in the past, and he has absolutely no intention of doing so, not when being with you feels like the easiest, most natural thing in the world. 
To him, you are like the human equivalent of a shot of espresso, a musical laugh, a jolt of positive inspiration. He’s always felt this, but one night, many nights ago, this effect that you have on him became amplified.
And suddenly, you are all he sees.
And he wouldn’t have it any other way, especially not after you finally open the door. You don a forest green bikini that leaves little to the imagination, with a sheer white wrap tied loosely around your waist. 
Matt lets out a low whistle, walking up to you with a slow, playful swagger. You roll your eyes at him when he unapologetically draws his gaze over your bare skin, but he can’t help it.
You look so ravishing that he wants to push you back inside the room. As stunning as your bikini is, it would look even better off.
To hell with the pool.
“What do you think?” 
He has roused from whatever grey temperament he was stuck in, now that he’s had his espresso. “I'm a goner. Absolutely done for.”
“Flatterer.” You shake your head at him, taking in his broad, bare torso. “Well, you don’t look so bad yourself.” 
He smirks, his large hands kneading your waist. “I'm the luckiest man on the planet, and this is you after an accident, you say? My love, you're a vision in green.”
“You like the colour?”
“Mmm, if I didn't like you in it, I'd cause a fuss about how you're playing for the other team, my Alyna.” He swoops down and kisses the crook of your neck, the spot he is aware would tickle, eliciting a soft giggle out of you.
“I could never,” you say, swatting his arm. “They were just out of black bikinis at the shop.”
“Black... green... we both know you look the best without either of them on. I mean, we did establish that six times in one night, remem—”
“Matt!” you squeal, eyes wide and scandalised. He feels smug, because he made sure you would never forget that night. “You're such a dog. Come on, let's join the others. I can’t wait to finally dip my toes in the pool.”
He is one step ahead of you the whole time, paying special attention to your bad ankle. He knows he’s being too careful when you eye him strangely, but he doesn’t care. “I got you,” he says.
“I can walk, you know,” you huff. “I’d have been down here ten seconds ago if it wasn’t for you going all Mr. Protector.”
As you reach the final landing, Phia’s voice rings out, “Hands off my woman!”
“She’s got a point.” You tilt your head at Matt, lips pulling at the corners.
“Have I? I was just kidding,” she shakes her head, before mumbling under her breath. “I'm not Ewan.”
Matt huffs out in response, trying not to let it get to him. Phia takes your other arm, deaf to your protests. It’s silly, because they’re both aware that you can probably fend for yourself, but not if they have anything to say about it. 
Fabien, Elliott, and Harry are manning the grill out on the patio. Some of the ladies are cozying on their sun chairs. Ewan, Luke, and Freddie are smoking on a bench under a canopy. And Thom Yorke serenades the whole scene, the speakers emitting ambient music.
Matt’s always loved a good European excursion, but this one might be his favourite yet. Thanks to the girl who lets him fuss over her despite her feigned annoyance.
Your fingers dig tighter into his arm as the two of you lower into the pool. He relishes the moment and allows the ebb of the water to push him closer to his girl.
“Hold on to me.”
You roll your eyes, but wrap your arms around his shoulders anyway. “I'm fine, Matthew. My ankle’s almost healed back to normal.”
“Almost is the keyword there, my love. We can't take any chances. So... hold on to me, beautiful.” The late morning sun is a blanket comfort as you float on together, your laughter ringing out as he flaps an arm on the water and splashes your face. 
From the sidelines, Freddie lets out a loud, teasing whistle. Matt responds with a triumphant fist pump, turning to give him a cheeky grin. 
That might have been a mistake because his eyes landed on Ewan, seated comfortably to Freddie’s left, a cigarette burning low between his lips. His eyes are obscured by dark sunglasses, but he’s clearly surveying the scene unfolding in the pool with an air of nonchalance that doesn’t sit well with Matt. 
He would have expected Ewan to jump in the pool as well and make a show of laying a claim on you as he had before. But no. The younger lad just sits, and watches, the makings of a smirk pulling at his lips when Matt makes eye contact.
Since when has he been this self-assured? Perhaps you’re to credit for this renewed sense of confidence? 
Are you slipping away from him, and back into Ewan’s arms? 
Too many questions, and not even the pleasant haze of Spain can shake the anxiety out of him. 
But then, Liv strolls over, positioning herself in front of Ewan, blocking Matt’s view. She bums a cigarette from one of the guys, and as she turns, she gives Matt a subtle nod—a reminder of her advice from last night. Just show her, she’d said. Show her you’re all in.
Thank the heavens for Olivia.
Turning back to you, Matt softens, brushing a lock of hair from your face. He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, feeling his doubts fade as you meet his gaze, eyes bright with laughter.
“Enjoying yourself there?” you ask sweetly.
“What’s not to enjoy?” he replies, his hand tracing slow, lazy circles on your back.
“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you glare like that before.”
“I was not glaring.”
“You so were, Matthew.”
“Oh, yeah?” he murmurs, a mischievous glint sparking in his eyes. Before you can react, he dips underwater, reemerging just inches from your thigh, where he plants a quick, teasing kiss that makes you yelp.
“Wha—Oh! Matt! Get up here!”
He surfaces, grinning, his arms winding around you again as he pulls you close. Your laughter mingles, echoing across the pool as the rest of the group cheers and jeers good-naturedly.
Just as Matt’s about to pull you in for another kiss, a loud shout breaks through the calm. 
“Cannonball!” Tom’s voice echoes from the villa, and before either of you can turn around, he comes barreling out, sprinting at full speed. With a triumphant yell, he launches himself off the edge, arms and legs splayed out like a human starfish.
The massive splash sends water arcing high, soaking you, Matt, and everyone within a ten-foot radius.
“Always one to ruin the moment, Tom,” Matt jokes.
“Had to make sure you two didn’t get too cosy,” Tom shoots back, swimming closer and clapping Matt on the shoulder. 
It’s all in good fun, sure, but then Matt catches Tom shoot a quick wink at Ewan, a flash of understanding passing between them.
So that’s how it’s going to be? Game on. 
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It’s the penultimate day of the Mallorca trip and the group has rented boats to paddle out along the stunning coastline. Only 2 people are allowed per vessel and some pairs have already formed—Phia and Phoebe, Louise thankfully pulled away from Ewan by Bethany, Harry and Freddie…
And then there’s Ewan who strides over to you determinedly. Matt is a half-step behind, his expression expectant, but Ewan is quicker. “I’m with you today, darling,” he says, his tone leaving little room for question. His hand finds yours, warm and grounding.
Matt’s eyes flicker with disappointment but he’s never been one to kick up a fuss. He gives you a faint resigned shrug, then turns to Liv. “Guess that means you and I are a team then.”
Liv rolls her eyes playfully, pushing her sunglasses up and swatting his arm. “Don’t sound so thrilled. But I promise I won’t make you row the entire time.”
Matt’s smile softens as he looks at her, his earlier disappointment slipping into something more relaxed. “Fine, but I’m claiming the right to judge your rowing skills.”
“I’ll have you know I’m an excellent rower,” Liv insists, taking her spot at the front of the boat and casting a teasing glance at him. “You, on the other hand…we’ll see.”
As you and Ewan push off into the water, he throws a glance back at the others, and a spark of mischief lights his eyes. “Think they’ll survive?”
You laugh, settling across Ewan on the boat. “I think it’ll be a surprise if Tom’s boat doesn’t capsize.”
Soon enough, everyone’s boats are spaced out on the clear, serene waters, and there’s nothing but the occasional splash of oars, the birds squawking high above, and the warm glow of the horizon. Ewan rows steadily, having doggedly refused your offer to help, and every now and then, his eyes flick to you, a soft smile never leaving his lips. His gaze lingers, like he’s committing your image to memory.
As you watch the world, he watches his world.
“Feels like another reality out here, doesn’t it?” he says, his voice barely above a murmur.
You nod, watching the sunlight dance across the water. “It really does.” You pause, glancing over your shoulder to see Liv and Matt, already in animated conversation. “It’s nice to just… forget everything for a while.”
He smiles, tilting his head. “Anything specific you wanna forget?”
You smile back. “Everything, really. The pressures, the expectations… wondering what everyone thinks or wants.”
From a few metres away, Matt’s voice carries over the water, cutting through the quiet intimacy of the moment. “I’m just saying, Liv, you don’t have to prove anything. You can let me row.”
Liv laughs, her voice filled with playful defiance. “Matt, I am fully capable of handling this. Maybe it’s you who should be taking notes.”
“Oh, I’d hate to step on your expert skills,” Matt teases back, before throwing a glance your way, his gaze lingering a bit too long before he turns back to Liv, who seems blissfully unaware of his momentary distraction.
Ewan notices it too, and his grip on the oar tightens ever so slightly. But he says nothing, keeping his focus on you as he rows further along the shore.
He steers the boat around a small bend, his voice low. “They’re good together, don’t you think?”
You turn, following his gaze. It’s a simple, easy dynamic between them, one you know you’ve seen before, and for a moment, a pang of something unnameable twists in your chest.
“Yeah,” you murmur, a touch distracted.
Ewan catches your gaze, his eyes searching yours. “You seem… surprised. Or maybe… jealous?”
You laugh it off, shaking your head. “Not at all. It’s just—”
But before you can finish, a sudden splash interrupts you. Harry’s boat has tipped over, both he and Freddie flailing in the water, their laughter filling the air as they try to right themselves.
Bethany, a few feet away, doubles over, her laughter carrying over the waves. “Oh my god, Freddie, I told you to sit still!”
Harry, sputtering as he surfaces, grins. “Guess I got too excited.”
“So I was wrong,” you turn to Ewan, smirking. “It’s not Tom who capsized.”
Ewan just laughs, then adds slyly, “Here I was wishing it would have been Matt.”
After the boats return to shore, you’re all tired and exhilarated, the sun higher in the sky as you make your way up the beach. But the peace is short-lived. Fans, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, begin to gather along the shore, their voices excited, cameras ready as they shout greetings and ask for photos. The relaxed energy shifts as each of you is drawn into the swirl of attention, questions flying as you try to keep up.
A fan steps in close, slightly shaking in her nerves. “You… and Ewan?” she asks, the question open-ended but its meaning clear.
You chuckle awkwardly, caught off guard, opting to just wrap an arm around her shoulders as she takes a selfie with you. 
But the fan is relentless, her attention shifting to Matt, who’s standing off to the side with Liv, his gaze directed toward you even as he signs another fan’s poster. “What about him?” she says, grinning.
Ewan’s arm slips around your waist protectively, pulling you closer. “She’s with me today,” he says confidently, not minding the possibility of this fan taking to the internet after this encounter, with proof of her ship actually being together.
Ewan doesn’t care; he has no reason to hide how much he wants you. Not anymore. If his fans want a crumb, as he often reads online about him, then he’s going to give them a whole feast. 
With you as the main course in the Ewan banquet.
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As the day comes to a close, you find yourself resting all alone in your room, stealing the group introvert mantle right under Ewan’s nose. Everything that has happened during this vacation plays in your mind like a montage, and somehow, it all feels like it’s building up to a grand finale.
But before you can lose yourself completely in your thoughts, there’s a soft knock at your door.
You groan to yourself as you walk over, but your protest dies as you find Ewan standing there, holding something behind his back.
“Hey, you,” he greets you with a smirk that’s more mischievous than usual. “Got a minute?”
Your heart skips a beat — it’s always been that way with him, that instant flutter, even now after everything. “Sure. What’s up?” 
“I’ve got a surprise for you,” he says, his grin widening at your raised brow. He steps into your room, pulling whatever he’s hiding behind his back.
When he finally reveals it, you blink, eyes widening. “You... bought these?” You can’t help but laugh.
Two brightly coloured superhero masks — one Spider-Man, the other Spider-Gwen.
“Yep, I saw a costume shop that had Carnaval masks… and these too, apparently,” Ewan says, looking pleased with himself. “I thought it would be fun. We’re getting away from the villa tonight. I figured we could use these. You know, masks for our incognito date night.”
It had taken one quick scroll on the internet for your group to discover that the paparazzi trailed everyone around town today, and Elliott even annoyingly revealed that he might have seen one or two of them lingering outside the villa’s premises. 
Vultures.
You laugh again, shaking your head. “Wait, you’re serious? We’re wearing these to our… date? Wait, why are we going on a date?”
He shrugs with a playful glint in his eye. “Why not?”
You hesitate for a second. It’s such a ridiculous idea, but in the best possible way. He’s always had a way of pulling you out of your own head, making you feel like there’s no right or wrong way to just live in the moment. 
Or maybe he could propose anything—anything at all—and you’d be beside yourself if you refused. It’s how you and him ended up having copious amounts of…. casual lovemaking, months after breaking up.
“Okay,” you finally say, “but only if you promise not to laugh when I look completely ridiculous in it.”
“Never,” he says with mock solemnity, holding out the Spider-Gwen mask for you. “You’ll look amazing. Trust me.”
As you slink past the gates, the masks make you feel more than a little silly, but also oddly liberated. It’s like you’re in on another secret with him, something just for the two of you.
You look at him, smiling as you adjust the mask. “This is insane,” you say, your voice muffled behind the fabric.
Ewan smiles back, clearly pleased with himself. “I know. And it’s perfect.”
“Are you sure this isn’t just you practicing for an audition for yet another Spiderman reboot?”
He only playfully shoots air webs at you, his adorable pew-pew noises audible under his mask.
You chuckle softly, your heart warming at the sight of him. “So, what now? You’re just going to walk me through the streets like this?”
“Of course. You ready to go on the best secret date of your life?”
You laugh, feeling lighter than you have in days. “Lead the way, Spiderman.”
The walk isn’t long, just enough to enjoy the quiet of the night and the unexpected adventure of it all. When you finally arrive at the restaurant, you stop dead in your tracks, blinking up at the building in front of you. It’s perched on the edge of a cliff, offering a breathtaking view of the bay below. The warm glow of the restaurant spills out onto the street, and you’re immediately struck by how beautiful its facade is.
You look at Ewan, your surprise written all over your face. “This... this place looks amazing. How did you find it?”
“I have my ways,” he says, grinning. “Come on.”
He leads you up the stairs, and you both remove your masks as you enter, giggling to each other. You’re met with a homey, rustic atmosphere. There’s a dim light from lamps perched on the posts, the soft murmur of conversations, and the smell of fresh food in the air. It’s everything you didn’t realise you needed tonight—calm, peaceful, and more than a little romantic.
“I booked a private table for us,” Ewan says softly, glancing around for the waiter. 
The two of you are escorted to a table on the balcony, overlooking the bay. The moon reflects on the water, casting a silver glimmer over the scene. For a moment, you just sit there, both of you silent, taking it all in.
“Ewan, this is incredible,” you say, your voice quiet but full of admiration. “I don’t even know what to say.”
Ewan smiles, reaching across the table to take your hand. “You don’t have to say anything. And I promise this isn’t some ploy to get you to speed up your decision-making. I just… I just wanted you to have a night where you could forget about everything else.”
He leans back slightly, his eyes studying you with that gentle familiarity, like he’s waiting for you to say something more, but he doesn’t rush you.
You glance down at the simple sundress you’ve been wearing all day. You didn’t have time to change when Ewan mentioned the surprise evening out — there was no real thought given to a perfect outfit. And yet, as you sit here now, across from him in the warm candlelight, you don’t feel the usual self-consciousness you might’ve once felt. 
You feel more beautiful than you ever have before, because he sees you as the most beautiful person in the room. In any room.
“I don’t know how you do it,” you say, looking at him. “How you make everything feel so…” You trail off, unable to find anything adequate. 
His lips curl into a knowing, half-smile. “I feel the same about you.”
And you might not know it yet, but this night is when you choose him. 
Under the unprecedented rainfall, later on, you will realise that you never truly had to choose.
It’s always been Ewan, all along. 
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Some notes in the margins...
I have no notes. The red mirage is still at play as I type this. Please distract me in the comments 🥲
The next chapter wraps up this trip :) We also might have a bit of Liv's POV...
Then it's back to LA or London, depending on who darling opts to go with 💛
269 notes · View notes
fantasydreamland · 3 days ago
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Betrothed
cragen stark x fem tully reader x aemond targaryen
Summary: You have been betrothed to Cragen Stark since you were children and grew up in the North preparing for the day you would become the lady of the Winterfell. Your entire world changes when your parents decide to wed you to the cold prince Aemond Targaryen instead. When the war begins everything changes once again and you eventually find your rightful place.
Notes: 18+ ONLY!!! Smut, angst, fluff, loss of virginity
Word count: 5580
x thank you so much for this request x
Mini sequel - Mine
masterlist
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You have been betrothed to Cragen Stark since you were children and grew up in the North preparing for the day you would become the lady of the Winterfell. Your parents visited often but remained occupied in the Riverlands.
Along the way, you and Cregan fell in love though neither of you would speak of it. Although you were to be wed, you were both shy about your feelings towards each other.
One day your mother and father return to Winterfell to visit and you greet them excitedly.
“There is a reason to our visit.” Your father says sternly as you hug your mother.
Your smile fades and they lead you to private room to speak. Your father explains that there was an offer from King Viserys to wed you to Prince Aemond Targaryen.
“What?!” You yell. “Absolutely not. Tell them no. I am to marry Cregan soon. That has always been the plan.”
“We have already agreed.” Your father states.
“You cannot marry me to that cold evil prince!” You raise your voice again in panic.
“Prince Aemond is an excellent match, my dear.” Your mother says, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.
“But I am to be lady of Winterfell! That is what I have been preparing for my entire life!”
“Well, now you will be a princess of the realm.” Your mother says.
“I do not care to be a princess!” Tears begin to fill your eyes. “What about Cregan? We have been betrothed our entire lives. He is the sweetest man I have ever known and now you are going to ship me away from him… away from you.”
“We would join you if we could, my dear.” Your mother says softly.
“But as you know we have a duty to the Riverlands. We cannot always choose our duties in life.”
“But father please-“
“There is no negotiating.” Your father speaks over you. “We have already promised the king. You should be grateful to earn such a title.”
“…When?” Was the only word you could choke out through your increasing tears.
“We will escort you there tomorrow.” Your father says.
“Tomorrow?!” You cry. “That is hardly any time at all!”
“Your mother and I need to return to Riverrun, we have no time to delay. I suggest you begin packing.” Without another word, your father storms out of the room.
“I’m sorry dear…” Your mother whispers to you as she follows behind him.
You collapse to the floor in tears. It feels like your entire world just went up in flames. You did not want to live in Kings Landing, you wanted to stay right here in the snowy North you had grown to love. You did not want to marry the prince, you wanted to marry Cregan who you had also grown to love.
‘Oh Cregan…’ You think. Breaking this news to him would be heartbreaking.
You pick yourself up off the floor and take deep breaths to steady your still shaky breathing. Once you have composed yourself you rush to find Cregan.
Cregan was standing alone in the Godswood looking to the tree before he turns and spots you approaching with a red nose and puffy eyes.
“What is wrong (y/n)?” He asks concerned.
You throw your arms around him and begin to sob again. He hugs you tightly as your tears dampen his fur cloak.
“Shh, it’s ok.” He pets your hair, causing you to cry harder, his tenderness being a reminder of what you would lose soon. “Tell me what is going on.”
“I h-have t-to leave.” You choke out before you begin crying again.
“What do you mean you have to leave?” Cregan pulls back to cup your cheek and look into your eyes.
“My father- he…” You can barely get words out between sobs.
“Take a deep breath darling. You’re ok.”
You do as he says and take a deep shaky breath before continuing.
“He is marrying me to prince Aemond. We leave tomorrow.”
You bury your face back into his furs as you cry harder. He hugs you tighter than he ever has and for a moment does not say a word. The shock of everything fogging his thoughts.
“Please say something…” you whisper.
“How is this possible?” He finally speaks.
“I do not know…” You sniffle as you lift your head. “But my father said it is already decided.”
“But…” He cups both your cheeks in his hands and looks into your eyes with intensity you have never seen from him. “I can not lose you… I- I love you.”
“Cregan…”
Before you can respond he crashes his lips against yours. You kiss him back with all your passion. The kiss is filled with so many unspoken feelings between you. You had dreamt about kissing him many times before but never in sad circumstances like this. You continue to kiss each other like it is your last day in this world. Which for you, it would be your last day in his world. Your lips finally part and you can see tears in Cregans eyes.
“I am so sorry, my love…” You whisper.
Cregan kisses your forehead and takes your hands before placing a kiss on each of them.
“He better treat you how you deserve. Because… you deserve the world (y/n).” Cregan chokes back tears as he speaks.
“You are my world…” You whisper, looking deep into his grey eyes.
“And you are mine…” He whispers back before pressing his forehead to yours and sighing.
You could not bear another minute of this heart shattering goodbye so you excuse yourself to pack for the trip. Tears stream down your face as you organize your belongings. Sitting on your dresser was a beautiful wooden horse your father gave you the day you arrived at Winterfell.
You run your fingers along it, remembering your excitement when you saw snow for the very first time. Your father had said it was to remember that although they were in Riverun they would always be by your side to support you in the North. You scoff at the thought of your father’s words and chuck the wooden horse into the fire.
You did not leave your room the rest of the day as you finished packing. You had no appetite at all and could not bear to see Cregan or anyone else for that matter. After sobbing in bed for most of the night, sleep finally pulls you under.
The next morning your things are being loaded onto the carriage. The snow fell gently, snowflakes landing and melting in your red hair, for the last time. You spot Cregan coming to wish you farewell. You run over to him and he wraps you in a tight hug. You both remain there for a long moment, not wanting to let go. He knew once he let you out of his arms you would be gone for good.
“I do not wish to speak the words since I am leaving… but you know my feelings for you.” You sniffle against his shoulder.
“I know…” He says as you finally part. “Me too.”
Cregan held back the tears in his eyes while yours streamed freely down your face. He holds your hands in his and places a final kiss to your forehead.
“Farewell, (y/n).” He says quietly. “I wish you good luck.”
“Farewell, Cregan.” You sniffle, barely holding back from bursting into tears again.
As your hands slowly part you could literally feel him slip away from you. You rushed into the carriage, choking back sobs. As the carriage takes off you stare through the window having one last glance at Cregan, one last moment admiring the beautiful white snow, one last moment in Winterfell. You watch as everything you have grown to love fades into the distance.
The ride is long, and silent, your parents barely speak a word and you were constantly focused on keeping yourself from crying. When you reached a far enough distance the air becomes warmer, forcing you to finally take off your favourite furs made for a lady of the North. After an agonizing few weeks of travel you finally reach Kings Landing.
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You follow behind your parents as a guard leads you to the throne room where the king and his family await.
“Lord and Lady Tully.” The guard announces your arrival. “And their daughter, (y/n) Tully.”
You greet the king as he welcomes you and your family. Your eyes meet Aemonds as he stares you down, his face cold and unreadable. He was even more handsome than you could have imagined. You break the eye contact with the one-eyed prince and look down nervously.
The guard escorts you to your new chambers and leads your parents off to their guest room for the night. You did not want to see or speak to them ever again. When the guard returns to escort you to dinner you refuse despite his insistence. You knew it would be taken as an insult to the king but you did not care. You hoped it may even encourage him to deem you unworthy of the prince and send you back home.
Not long after someone bangs at your door, startling you. You approach the door and cautiously open it to see Aemond holding a plate of food.
“It is a great insult to refuse the kings welcome feast.” He says as he pushes past you and lets himself in.
You scoff as he places the food on the small table in your room.
“Forgive me for insulting the king, my prince. I did not have much of an appetite.” You say firmly. “And frankly, I do not care to see my parents again before they abandon me here.”
“You need to eat.” He says in a stern tone.
“What I need is to go home.” You snap back.
“This is your home now.” He states, unphased by your attitude.
You simply huff and cross your arms.
“You need to eat.” He repeats. “I know that you must be hungry by now.”
“I’m fine.”
“Suit yourself.” He shrugs before heading toward the door. “Goodnight, Lady (y/n).”
He bows slightly before closing the door behind him. You stand there with your arms still crossed before your stomach starts to grumble. You sigh as you sit down and tuck into your food, silently grateful he brought it to you.
You change out of your dress before curling up into the large canopy bed with red and golden curtains. You felt like a trapped bird in a royal golden cage. Your thoughts swirl around in your mind like a tornado. Your entire world has been flipped upside down in the matter of weeks. Everything you had envisioned for your life has just gone up into flames. Now you were stuck here with these strangers, forced to marry a man you did not know or want. You sob into your pillow until exhaustion finally drags you into a restless slumber.
The next morning you sleep in and take your time dressing. You had no intention on intending breakfast either and having to see your parents before they depart. Once you’re dressed you sit at the vanity and brush your hair in the mirror. Suddenly, there is a loud knock on the door.
“Come in.” You call, placing your brush down.
The door opens and Aemond appears with a plate of breakfast food. He walks over and places it on the same table as before.
“I assumed you would not be at breakfast with your parents in attendance.” He says flatly. “But you should eat.”
He says nothing else as he turns to leave.
“Thank you.” You say as he goes to close the door.
“Mhm.” He nods, turning his head to look at you before exiting and shutting the door behind him.
You sit down to the plate full of a variety of foods from the breakfast table. His caring gesture felt so confusing when he acts so cold towards you.
You finish doing your hair before looking through the small bookshelf in the corner of your room. Most books seemed to be about boring histories until you find a book about dragons. You pull it from the shelf and spend the rest of your day reading through it. You had never even seen a dragon but now you were about to marry someone who has the biggest one in the world.
That evening you plucked up the courage to attend dinner. You would at least not have to see your family anymore but you worried for how the this family would treat you, especially with how you had isolated yourself away from them.
The guard leads you to the dining hall where the royal family were seated for dinner. You were surprised by the warm welcome as the king offers you a seat. You did not say much as you ate looking down at your plate. The light conversation was mainly between the king and queen. Aemond sat across from you and kept his eye on you the entire time.
When supper was finished Aemond offers to escort you back to your chambers. You say goodnight to everyone before taking his arm. The air was tense as you walked down the halls in silence.
“I would like to take you on a walk through the gardens tomorrow.” Aemond says once you reach your chamber, the offer catching you off guard.
“I… um, I’m not sure.” You respond looking down.
Aemond lightly lifts your chin with his finger, making your eyes meet his. The contact made your heart race before he casually drops his hand back down.
“You must be bored remaining alone in your bedroom.” He questions.
“No.” You scoff. “There are plenty of books to keep me occupied.”
“What are you reading?” He raises a brow.
“Why do you care?” You glare at him.
He simply shrugs and slightly smirks at your attitude.
“I am not sure the title… it’s just a book about dragons. I thought it sounded interesting.” You shrug.
“Have you ever seen a dragon?” His smirk grows.
“No…”
“Would you like to?”
“I am stuck here in Kings Landing for the rest of my life… I am sure I will see one sometime.” You cross your arms.
“I have a better idea than a walk in the gardens. I will meet you here midday tomorrow.”
“But-“ You begin.
“Goodnight, Lady (y/n).” He says over you as he bows and leaves you.
“Goodnight, Prince Aemond.” You say under your breath once he’s out of ear shot.
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The next morning you attend a quiet breakfast. You pretend not to notice Aemond observing you the entire time. Midday you are reading in your chambers when there is a knock at the door. You answer the door to Aemond, as expected.
“Ready?” He asks.
“For what? You never told me where we are going.”
He lightly chuckles, the first time you have heard him laugh, and offers his arm. Without further questions you take his arm as he leads you through the castle.
You follow him into the dragon pit. You stop in your tracks when a gigantic dragon comes into your sight.
“There is no need to be afraid. She will not harm you unless I command it.” Aemond reassures you.
“And what if you did command it?” You question.
“Then you would be a pile of ash.” He smirks. “Lucky for you, I would not want to destroy such beauty.”
You blush at his response. He was acting so differently than the coldness you expected.
“Here.” He offers his hand to you.
You place your hand in his and feel instant sparks as he looks into your eyes, clearly feeling it too. He clears his throat before leading you over to Vhagar and moving your hand up to stroke her. She grumbles which startles you and you feel Aemond chuckle again behind you. He slowly removes his hand from yours as you continue to pet Vhagar.
“She seems to like you.” He says. “And she does not like anyone.”
You smile to him and see a rare smile on his lips. Not a smirk, a genuine smile.
“Would you like to go for a ride?” He asks.
You look to him with shock in your eyes as you contemplate the question. The idea terrified yet excited you. Not many people get the chance to ride a dragon in their lives and you could not pretend like you have not dreamt of it before.
Aemond seems surprised when you agree and then a wide grin spreads across his face.
“Very well.” He smiles.
You watch as he climbs atop Vhagar before reaching his hand to you, gesturing to climb up. You pull yourself up the ropes before grabbing Aemonds hand. He hoists you the rest of the way so you are sitting behind him. You were certain he could feel your heart beating rapidly against his back.
“Hold on tight.” He smirks.
You wrap your arms tightly around him, your body pressing up against his. The heat in your cheeks rise as you realize this is the closest you have been to him.
You don’t have time to dwell on the thought as Vhagar begins to walk out of the dragon pit before taking off. Your breath catches as you are lifted up into the sky. You close your eyes and squeeze Aemond so tight you were surprised he could still breathe.
“Open your eyes.” Aemond says, somehow knowing you closed them.
You open your eyes and for a brief moment you worry you had fallen off the dragon and died. The way you soared above the clouds was a sight of the heavens. After that you don’t shut your eyes for another second, taking in the sky around you and the lands below you. Aemond circles back around and you squeeze him tight again as he begins to descend. Once you’ve reached the dragon pit Aemond jumps off and helps you down off Vhagar.
“How did you enjoy your first dragon ride?” He smiles to you.
“I- I- I am hardly ever speechless.” You say with a beaming smile. “That was indescribable.”
Aemonds smile remains as he kisses your hand. You gaze into each others eyes for a long moment before you lean forward and place a soft kiss to his lips. He smirks to you before taking your hand again and leading you out of the dragon pit.
You and Aemond were both more lively at supper than usual, talking of the dragon ride you went for earlier. Once the meal is finished Aemond escorts you to your chambers for the night.
“I had a wonderful time with you today.” You say to Aemond as you walk down the halls. “That was honestly the first time I have felt true happiness since being here.”
“I am glad. I quite enjoy your company here. So I hope I can continue to make you happy.” Aemond responds.
“Well, now you have the rest of our lives to do so.” You playfully nudge him, making him smirk.
Once you reach your chambers you look to Aemond.
“Thank you, my prince. For everything.” You think back to the meals he first brought you when you refused to leave your room.
“Of course, my lady… Soon to be, my princess.” He takes your hand to kiss.
You gaze into his eyes with a heartfelt smile. He smiles back at you before leaning forward to place a chaste kiss to your lips. When your eyes meet again there is a strange tension in the air. You watch him glance to your lips again before he suddenly cups your cheeks and brings your lips back to his. The kiss quickly turns heated as you wrap your arms around his neck and his tongue dips into your mouth. Your heart races against your chest as he grabs your waist and pulls you closer against him. The desire between you both is electric. He pushes you up against the wall and you feel his hardness press against your hip, making you gasp into his mouth.
When your lips part you feel yourself almost lean back in, like a moth to a flame. You look at each other with wild eyes as you catch your breath.
“Goodnight, my lady.” Aemond places a kiss to your cheek.
“Goodnight, my prince.” You say bashfully.
Once you enter your chambers you let out a heavy breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. You get ready for bed, your thoughts full of Aemond. You did not expect to develop any feelings in this new marriage but now he was all you could think about. The fire between you was indescribable. You fall into a peaceful sleep as you begin to imagine your wedding and future to come.
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The next day everything changes. King Viserys passed away overnight. All the small folk are gathered to witness Aegon being crowned as the new king. Your family had pledged fealty to Rhaenyra when she was first crowned heir. You panic and worry for what may come from the throne being usurped.
The next few days pass by in a blur. You hardly saw Aemond and when you did there was never private moments to talk. He even stopped escorting you from meals. You could tell it pained him greatly but he could not find the time right now with everything going on.
One night a knock on your door startles you awake. You rush over, hoping to find Aemond on the other side. Your face drops with disappointment when instead you find a guard standing there.
“What is it?” You ask sleepily.
“Please keep your voice down my lady.” He says as he hands you a hooded cloak, making you arch your brow at him. “Your parents received a raven regarding this treachery. They asked I bring you home.”
“Home? What are you talking about? This is my home now... And why would they ask a gold cloak to take me away from kings landing? Why would you agree?” You babble.
“I will explain everything on our way to Winterfell. Please, my lady. We haven’t much time.” He says, peering over his shoulder.
“I would need to collect my things…” Your brain was hazy from sleep trying to comprehend what was happening.
“There is no time, my lady. Please, we need to leave now.” He begins to panic.
With no time to give it thought, you simply nod and put on the cloak to hide your vibrant red hair. He leads you cautiously through the castle through hidden passages you had never known were there. Eventually they lead you to the streets of Kings Landing. There was a carriage waiting for you just outside the city gates.
Once you are on the road you finally have a moment to process your thoughts. Your heart sinks and your stomach twists at the thought of Aemond discovering your disappearance. Tears run down your face at the thought. You did not want to leave Kings Landing, you did not want to leave him.
The next weeks of traveling was even more dreadful than when you were going to Kings Landing. Multiple times you considered jumping out of the carriage and running back to the Red Keep.
You could hardly eat with your stomach in knots. Aemond blurred all of your thoughts. All you could think of was him. The intense kisses you shared, the amazing dragon ride, his acts of kindness. It broke your heart to imagine how much you must have hurt him by leaving. You had disappeared in the middle of the night, leaving all your things behind. You worried how he would think you chose to abandon him, or worse, think you had been stolen in the night. Which in a way, you had been.
You begin to shiver as you get closer to Winterfell, the air getting colder. The guard notices and pulls a fur cloak out of a small chest inside the carriage. You wrap it tightly around you and try to steady your nerves.
“We should be there soon.” He says.
You simply nod and rest your eyes. The next time you open your eyes the carriage comes to a halt.
“Are we here?” You shoot up.
The guard nods and opens the door. You’re instantly blinded by the white of the snow. Your eyes adjust to see your parents waiting for you. You simply glare at them before your eyes land on Cregan and your expression softens. You had been so worried about Aemond that seeing Cregan nearly slipped your mind entirely.
You jump out of the carriage and do not hesitate to throw yourself in his arms. He hugs you back tightly and pats your hair.
“I thought I would never see you again.” He whispers in your ear.
You nod as the tears start again. You part and he wipes them from your face. You softly smile at him and he kisses your forehead.
“My darling, we are so glad you are safe.” Your mother interrupts to hug you.
“As soon as we heard Aegon was usurping the throne we knew we had to bring you home.” Your father says.
“Yes, thank you.” You say dryly. Your father goes to respond but you cut him off. “Thank you for dragging me away from my home, my life, everyone I have ever known. Then, deciding to bring me back and steal me away in the night. I am not sure the royals even know where I am.”
“We made them aware once you were a safe enough distance that they could not go after you.” He responds.
“Now you no longer have to marry that ‘cold prince’.” Your mother quotes your words from when you were leaving.
You think to Aemond finding out they had taken you back to Winterfell.
“Do you not think they will come after us? After me? They have dragons.” You cross your arms.
Part of you feared Aemond would come for you and steal you away. Another part of you hoped he would.
“They are far too busy with the coming war to worry about a stolen bride.” Your father says.
“That is all I have ever been to you, huh? A bride to be sold off to whichever family benefits you most.”
Before your father can respond you stomp off to the castle.
You make your way to your previous bedroom, relieved to see it remains the same as you had left it. You sit down on the bed and cry into your hands. A knock at the door interrupts your sobs.
“Come.” You call dryly, assuming it was your parents.
Cregan cautiously opens the door and you stand from your bed.
“Cregan…” You say as you walk over to him. “I am so glad you are here.”
Cregan boldly closes the distance between you and pulls you into a searing kiss. All of the feelings you have for him come flooding back as you kiss him back passionately.
“(Y/n)… I have been so lost without you.” Cregan says lowly. “I feel like the luckiest man alive to have you in my arms again.”
“I missed you too.” You whisper as you rest your foreheads against each other.
He kisses you again, this time lifting you up and walking you over to the bed.
“My love… I don’t know if I can wait for our wedding night to have you.” He says as he puts you back down. “You are all I have been able to think about since the moment you left.”
You meet his eyes and they’re filled with so many emotions. Heartbreak, sadness, worry, relief, desire, love. You gaze back at him with the same feelings in your eyes.
“Then don’t.” You whisper.
Without hesitation, he kisses you again before moving his lips to your neck causing a small whimper to escape you. You tug at his cloak until it drops to the floor and he moves to push yours off your shoulders. You begin to underdress each other layer by layer, stealing hungry kisses in between. When Cregans upper half is finally exposed you run your fingers down his toned stomach. He moves his hands along the curves your body as you stand in nothing but your shift. You step back slightly and he watches as you slowly lift the thin dress over your head.
“You are so beautiful.” Cregan whispers before capturing your lips again.
You crawl into bed and watch as he unties the strings of his pants and they drop to the floor. Your eyes widen at his hardened length on display. When your eyes dart back up to his there’s a fire that lights within you both. He crawls on top of you before taking your breast in his mouth as his hand massages the other. You squirm underneath him as your hands move to his hair. His lips make their way back up to your neck.
“I love you (y/n).” He says lowly in your ear.
“I love you, Cregan.” You breathe.
His eyes meet yours and he smiles down at you with pure adoration.
“Are you certain about this, my love? We can wait until we are wed…” He asks, though you can tell there is only one answer he is hoping to hear.
You nod and kiss his lips. He dips his tongue into your mouth as he lines himself up to your entrance. You wince in pain as he slowly pushes into you. He moves slowly to give you time to adjust but also because he was barely holding it together. The feeling of you wrapped tightly around him made his head spin.
The pain soon begins to fade and you crave more of him. Something overcomes you as you move to push him onto his back and climb on top of him. He looks at you with wide eyes as you begin rocking your hips against his. You grind against his length and it sends sparks through your entire body. Cregan quickly closes his eyes, the sight of you above him as pleasured moans begin to pour from your mouth had him barreling towards his release.
“My love, please…” Cregan breathes. “I’m not going to last much longer if you continue to do that.”
You smirk down at him and watch a small gasp escape him as you line him up to your entrance and begin to slide down onto his cock.
You moan louder and have to remind yourself to be quiet, you two were not really supposed to be doing this before you are wed. His choked out moans as you ride him makes the knot in your stomach tighten more and more. You cry out his name and before you could even comprehend what was happening your entire body feels like it lit up in flames. Your vision goes black and pleasure clouds your mind. Cregan finally opens his eyes and watches you as you come undone around him. The sight of you instantly triggers his release and he groans out as his fingers dig into your hips and he comes deep inside you.
You collapse onto the bed beside him and you both lay there panting. Cregan pulls you in close and wraps his arms around you. You nuzzle your face into his neck as you hug him back.
“I feel like I’m dreaming, I just cannot believe I am holding you in my arms right now.” Cregan says softly. “Please promise me this is not a dream. Promise me you are real.”
You move your head to meet his gaze. Your hand comes up to cup his cheek as you smile warmly at him.
“I promise you this is real. I’m real.” You say before placing a kiss to his lips.
“I hope so.” He smiles warmly back at you as he lightly strokes your hand on his face.
The next few days are busy with wedding preparations as your parents did not want to waste any time. You spend most of your time with Cregan, chatting away like you used to and stealing private kisses in between.
The day of your wedding was quick to come. You were filled with excitement and nerves as you put on the last of your furs.
Snow gently falls from the sky as Cregan comes into your view. You smile to each other as you walk down the snowy isle. He takes your hand in his and the ceremony begins.
“She is mine and I am hers. From this day, until the end of my days”
“He is mine and I am his. From this day, until the end of my days” You recite together as you gaze deeply into each others eyes.
You seal your marriage with a kiss. Cregan holds your hand up to the crowd and they cheer for you both. As you smile widely to the crowd, the thought of Aemond crosses your mind and there’s a pang in your chest. You push the thought away and try to focus on the present moment. Standing side by side with Cregan, whom you loved deeply, you looked like the true lady of the North that you were always meant to be.
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beautifullilacsky · 3 days ago
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It's been a while since I wrote about you. Not because I haven't missed you or didn't have good things to say; it's because it's been so, so incredibly good. There is too much for me to say. There have been too many moments that I'd like to write down for me to remember for a lifetime. We came back from our first vacation together, and gad, I have never been more sure about you.
By switching to the other side of the sidewalk so you were the one closer to the road, you made me feel safe. Wearing your 'emergency pants', in case you needed to move the van when the wind was too much for me (which, it was, and you moved the van without a wrinkle or hint of annoyance in your face), you made me feel cared for. Just like all the times you asked me if I was okay. You made me feel heard and made me feel like you truly wanted to understand and hear me, when you asked me how the vacay is going. What our further wishes are and if we want to change anything. You made me feel important and like a princess when you drove around half of the island, just to find a souvenir that I really wanted (even if you usually don't do souvenir hunts). Every single day, you made me feel so good. All of the full body cuddling at night, almost forming a blanket the way you folded yourself all around me. All of the caring during the day. All of the communicating and comfortable silences. The amount of planning you have done, making sure we arrive there and back home safely and that we can "haal het beste uit" our vacation. Knowing I am uncomfortable with manuals and especially a van, you drove all of the time; even if at times, it was stressful as shit. And, everything that came with living in a van; you emptied our water, refilled it, dusted the inside, checked the difficult-closing door, cooking, and did a lot of the dishes.
All the times I asked you to pose a certain way for a picture, you did exactly that. On hikes, you would ask me if the speed was okay, or, like you did most of the time, you'd let me in front. That way, I could go my own speed and you'd be sure that I felt comfi and good. The cute smiles when I said something to Beertje; how I adore and feel so so safe when you like seeing the child inside of me. Ha, the way you went back to souvenir stores with me as I regretting not buying something, while once again, not being annoyed at all. Also, how you paid for my toilet visit twice, knowing I don't carry around 50 cents. It's not expensive, but I know you'd never pay for a toilet like that. But if I really needed and wanted to, you gave me the moneys and always told me to take my time. The way you always let me play whatever music I would like to hear; is that something meaningful that I have overseen every single time (by thinking you just vibe with everything)?
My baby. I can't even describe it in words properly. You truly treated me like a princess. You asked me if u don't always do so. I had no choice but to take my blinding sunnies off during this vacation, seeing how well you treat me. In day to day life, it shines less bright. Now, I couldn't miss it, not even if I closed my eyes during the whole vacation.
One thing I will never ever forget. The 25th birthday you gifted me. You first gifted me a go-pro, which you had named "Renee s vlog camera". It's a typical niklas gift; useful. And damn, even if I was a bit overwhelmed with what it could do at the beginning, I friggin love it. We got to use it sooo many times during the vacay, and I am thrilled that we got to use it in those ways. I am sure there will be more times that I use it, which I am v excited for. And of course, the way you made sure that we got to do what I wanted to for my bday (a hike, an easy one to start with, which,,,, was harder than we had planned but you made sure that I was okay the whole time and we turned around when we both felt like it was a good time). And later, the whale 🐋 dolphin 🐬 watching in Funchal... (where we also looked at the doors I wanted to see, hiked up to a garden u thought I wanted to see, just to take a cable car to the actual palace where I wanted to go to (even if it sounded boring to u to go to a palace), and we ate at such a lovely restaurant, even twice!). Bro. Never will I ever forget the first time you said "I love you too". I was so deep into my feelings, I bit your arm. Yet, that wasn't enough to calm the roaring feeling inside of me. The one that was banging at the bottom of my throat, begging me to say the words. So. I did. "Don't say it back, but I love you so friggin much. Thank you so much for this.... I love you". I felt a weight falll of of my shoulders, as I put my head onto yours. Right there and then, even if I couldn't make it out a 100% over the sound of the waves, the motor from the boat, and the peace that had fallen over me, you said it. "I love you too". My head instantly bounced up: "what?!" I smile, as you also laugh and point out the sharks that you just spotted. Typical Niklas, talking about sharks when he wants to change to topic. Though, it doesn't change the fact that you said it back to me. And even if you are still debating what it means to love someone, maybe you felt the same way that I did right there, on the two front seats of this boat. There wasn't a way for me to explain why I felt the way I did. I just know. For me, it doesn't have to be based on facts. "Okay, so, I really appreciate what he did for me and I feel super safe, appreciated and good. So, in convlusion, that must mean that I love him". I am more of the feeling type. I felt overwhelmed by love for you right there and then. Maybe you felt the same, and told me that you love me too, even if you aren't factually sure that that means. Either way. I will remember you saying it. 24th of October, 3 days after my bday and 8 days before our one year anniversary. I know you only say things you mean, and if you didn't want to say it back, I gave you the options. "Don't say it back", I said the first time that I said I love you. After a short second, I said it again, and even if I didn't realize it, gave you the opportunity to say it back to me. Might not be that big of a deal to you, but as you might know, lol, it is a pretty big deal to me.
So. Baby. It seems impossible to word. But damn. You treated me like a princess. And Gash. I love you, so, so friggin much. No words. I am excited to spend so much more time with you in our future. Endless kisses to you, my love.
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emilie.hofferber
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