#Then I just imagine everything that would and could happen

[babygorewhore]

Good girl

Older!Rafe Cameron x perv!virgin fem reader! W.C 1.6k

Rafe Cameron, who you work for as a housekeeper, thinks you’re such a good girl but you have a filthy little habit that he’s about to discover. Dividers by @strangergraphics

Warnings! Masturbation! Perv! Reader and rafe! Older!Rafe! Daddy kink! Praise! Degrading! Oral! Fem recieving! Unprotected sex! Female is just for aesthetic!

You didn’t mean for it to happen. Honestly you really didn’t. You worked part time as a housekeeper at Rafe Cameron’s house and he provided you almost free range in his home. Leaving you in his shower right now, after you swam in his pool, your bikini hanging up as your naked body was pampered by the water. You lean your head back, eyeing Rafe’s body wash and you bite your lip nervously. It would be so…naughty. But he wouldn’t know. No one else would know. You reach forward and hold the bottle in your hands.

Lathering the soap onto a washcloth and you bring it to your nose. God, it smelled just like him. Your pussy pulsed as you thought about him in here and how good it would feel to be bent over while he railed you. Your other hand slowly traced over your body, squeezing your tits and you moaned.

You circled your clit finally, eyes fluttering shut as you gave yourself decent pressure to tease yourself. You whimpered as you inserted two fingers in, curling them in as you continued smelling his body wash, his hands are so much bigger.

Everything about him was larger. Your skin warmed as you thought about how good he would sound while his cock pumped in and out of you, filling you with cum while you gripped the wall.

“Fuck,” You managed before your climax hit you and you bit your lip harder, tasting a little blood as your cum leaked over your fingers.

After cleaning yourself up, you get dressed and scurry back downstairs. Rafe would be back soon to take you home and you’d have to pretend to be normal. It wasn’t the first time you’d touched yourself to something of his. You’d snuck into his room, humped his pillow, fingered yourself while wearing his rings before you got them cleaned. You’d never been with anyone all the way. Shitty oral and half assed fingering but that’s it. You’d never been with a real man like him.

You slid into his passenger seat. He gripped the wheel, his muscular forearm flexed underneath his button down shirt. “Was the pool okay?” His raspy voice sent chills across your body and you nodded.

“Mmm, it was perfect. Just what i needed on a-oh no. I forgot my swimsuit!” You facepalm and he chuckles.

“That’s okay, doll. Don’t worry. I’ll give it to you all nice and clean.” He reaches over and gently squeezes your knee.

The radio plays quiet music as he drives you home and your pulse quickens. You wanted him so badly you’d even dreamed about it but you didn’t have the guts to invite him in.

“You don’t have to Mr Cameron. I can just,”

“I insist. I’ll wash it and it’ll be all ready when you come back. You’re a blessing, Angel. House has never been more spotless.” He gives you a smile and you blush.

“Oh, it’s no issue, sir. I’m happy to do it!”

“You’re such a sweet girl, you know that? Such a good girl.” Before you had the chance to faint at his praise, you open your car door and quickly slip out. Clenching your thighs together.

“Thank you for the ride. Mr Cameron!” You give him a wave before turning on your heel and running inside. Your pussy throbbed as you barely made it inside your bedroom, shutting your door before your roommate could ask questions.

Your back hit your soft sheets with your knees spread, your fingers circling your clit eagerly and your hole leaking with precum as you whined and whimpered. “Fuck-sir!” You breathed as you imagined Rafe with you right now. His lips replacing your hand.

Your climax hit you and you spread your thighs apart further. As you shuddered and shook, you brought your fingers to your lips. Tasting yourself. You wished he would taste it. Because it was all because of him.

“You sure you don’t want me to tidy up a little? I know I’m not really dressed for it,” You begin but Rafe shakes his head as he ushers you inside his home.

“No. You’re off the clock today. Can I get you anything to drink? I know I’m not as good of a bartender as you are.” He gives you a wink and you giggle. That was your other part time job.

You wore a skirt that hung above your knees, black tank top with a decent push up bra. Was it completely necessary to show off your tits to pick up a swimsuit? No. But it was worth the chance.

“I’d love a glass of lemonade.” You ask and he nods.

“I laid out your bikini in my room. Go ahead and get it. I’ll bring you the drink,” Rafe smiles and you tilt your head slightly.

In his room? You nod anyway and walk up the stairs. You move inside his bedroom, a place you were familiar with and you saw your black bikini laid out on his cover. Your eyes narrow slightly when you see a slight stain in the crotch.

You hear footsteps behind you and you turn to see Rafe holding a glass. He sets it down and leans against the wall, his fit body lean and powerful. “Something wrong, Doll?”

“No! Nothings wrong! Thank you for washing it! I’m sorry i forgot again. I’m so dumb.” You laugh nervously and he gives you a little smirk.

“Yeah? I’m sure it was hard to remember after touching yourself while smelling my body wash in the shower.”

You gasp and take a step back with wide eyes. Rafes smirk widens into a smile. “I mean baby girl i knew you were a little dirty slut but finger fucking yourself while wearing my rings? In my shirt? Humping my pillow? It got me so hard while I watched you in my office. Stroked my cock to the point it was fuckin numb.”

You wanted the earth to swallow you as you realized your stupidity. He had cameras. Of course he did. “Mr. Cameron-“

“I think we’re past that, sweetheart. You don’t need to talk to me like that. Daddy or sir will work just fine baby girl.” He approaches you steadily and you swallow.

“You’re not…mad?”

“Mad? Princess, someone being obsessed with me is so fucking sexy. Just as much as i am with you. Sneaking in a pair of panties in my pocket when I’ve taken you home drove me crazy. Wrapping them around my dick and then licking them clean.” You inhale sharply as he nudges you on the bed with his knee.

“You’re such a good girl. Being so dirty. Virgin huh? Getting off at just the thought of my face in your pussy?” Your skin heats as he leans down, snapping the elastic of your waistband.

“I just…wanted to be near you that’s all.” You offer weakly and he pushes you fully on the bed on your back.

“Now I’m gonna lick up all your mess in that cunt. I think you owe me one considering you’re a little perv.” Rafe peels off your skirt and panties, the sticky middle glistening as he groans at the sight.

“Jesus princess. This wet just from me calling the shots? Looks like you’ve needed a real man this whole time. Someone who knows what the fuck they’re doing.” Rafe buries his face inbetween your thighs, lapping at your clit like a starved man and you moan loudly. Your fingers tangle in his hair.

“daddy-oh god-“ You whine as he focuses on your entrance, tongue licking up all the arousal just for him.

“Fuck, you taste so good, princess. Sweeter than that pretty little face of yours.” Rafe praises against your cunt and grinds on the bed. “About to bust in my god damn pants just from licking up this pussy.”

You’re seconds away from orgasm when he pulls back and climbs over you. He crushes his lips to yours in a bruising kiss, you taste yourself on his tongue while he hastily tugs off his pants. His dick throbbing inside his boxers.

“You gonna be a good girl and take all of it for me? You gonna let me fuck that greedy cunt?” He questions and you whimper, your fingers digging into his back as he shoves his cock into you. Thrusting hard and you cry out. Burying your face into his shoulder.

“Oh shit, princess you’re so fuckin tight. Perfect pussy. Clenching me so hard you want me to stay in here forever. Can’t believe no one’s ever fucked you before,” he grunts and plunges his hips deeper.

“Daddy-keep going-I’m gonna cum!” You squeak as your pussy squelches.

“Cum for me, princess. Let me have it. Cream on my dick and then you’re gonna fuckin bounce on it.” His dirty words immediately make you spill all over his cock and you let out a whine before he flips over, manhandling you to straddle his lap.

“Ride my dick like a good little slut. Wanna see your eyes roll back when i breed your pretty pussy.” Rafe leans down and takes your hardened nipple in his mouth. Sucking slowly and you moan loudly, your ass bouncing as you ride him.

“Daddy, you feel so good. Want you to fill me with your cum. I’ve needed it so bad. Touching myself wasn’t enough.” You pant and Rafe pulls off your tit.

“Such a good whore for me, princess. Such a dirty little slut for a girl who’s never fucked. I’m the only man who gets this perfect cunt.”

You feel ropes of cum coat your insides as he presses his hand against your stomach, feeling it as you cum a second time and it becomes wetter.

“Oh god, daddy!” You manage and he huffs, helping you grind down with his hands on your ass.

“Taking me so fuckin good. My pretty girl huh? Giving me all that cum. Hands and knees. I’m gonna eat it out of you.”

Tagging @xxbimbobunnyxx @marchsfreakshow @oceandriveab @starkeysprincess @redhead1180 @drudyslut @sturnioloshacker @rafescurtainbangz @rafeinterlude @rafesthroatbaby @gri959 @emsgoodthinkin

[ddarker-dreams]

What Remains Unspoken.

Yan Chrollo x F Reader x Yan Feitan

Warnings: Yandere themes & unhealthy relationships. Word count: 2.2k.

If there’s anywhere Feitan looks out of his element, it’s in the sun. 

The celestial object serves as his antitheses — warm, bright, and inviting. Given his pallid countenance, he must agree. On the rare occasions you can go outside, he keeps to the shadows, whose darkness could never match the depravity festering inside his rotten soul. You believe night itself would flee from him if it knew a fraction of his crimes. 

When you first saw him enter direct sunlight, a certain superstition overtook you, triumphing over reason. You observed with tentative expectation, waiting for something to happen, whatever that something may be. For his skin to break out into blisters, flesh to sizzle, and howls of agony to dominate the air as he disintegrated into a pile of ash; in short, a demise befitting a monster like himself. Regrettably, this didn’t happen. Disappointment weighed heavy on your chest when he went on his merry way. 

Presently, he stands hidden amidst a cluster of trees, acting every bit the fairytale ghoul your overactive imagination wished him to be. Through the branches' interstices, light speckles his dark outerwear. It’s a hot, balmy day, though evening’s arrival soothes the worst of the heat. 

Unlike him, you’re dressed for the weather. This morning, upon leaving your shower, you found the comfortable clothes you picked out beforehand ‘mysteriously’ replaced. A short, light blue dress featuring a sweetheart neckline and spaghetti straps laid there instead. That wasn’t all. Jewelry, heels, and other various accessories were tossed haphazardly alongside it, like you’d been undecided on what to wear before a first date. Except you hadn’t been the one to get everything out. Feitan was. Prior to that, he never took any interest in what you wore. 

No, that attribute belongs to another, whose memory fills you with sickening dread. 

You sit at a wooden picnic table, examining the park’s abundant foliage. There’s little else for you to do. Feitan’s yet to give any indication as to why you’re here. Typically, his modus operandi consists of stashing you far away from the public’s purview. From time to time, you’ll travel elsewhere, always using methods that limit your potential interactions with others. This part of the park may be less populated, but hikers and families can still stroll by. You take care not to draw attention to yourself when they do. 

Sighing, you stand, fully aware of the eyes monitoring you in the distance. Unsure of what else to do, you approach the last place you spotted Feitan. He says nothing as you approach. You hug yourself, almost regretting your decision to seek him out. By giving you no parameters to work with, you’re left constantly second-guessing yourself, fearing that you’ve broken some unspoken rule. Standing by his side feels like a safer bet than risking a stranger coming over to strike up a conversation. 

“Bored?” Feitan asks. 

You freeze, thinking over your next words with care. If he believes this little outing is a ‘privilege’, you doubt he’d appreciate you maligning it. Then again, he’s suggested creative punishments for your tongue whenever it’s formed a lie. Considering this, you decide it’s best to redirect the conversation. 

“I’m just wondering if there’s anything I should be doing,” you say. When he raises a thin eyebrow, you hastily add, “Sorry, I mean—” 

He flicks your forehead, silencing you. 

“So nervous,” he croons. “Like little rabbit.” 

Irritation bubbles up inside your chest, like a geyser ready to erupt. You want to scoff, as king why he thinks that is, but the provocation goes unchallenged. He isn’t wrong, per se. Every snap of a twig or distant conversation the wind carries instills unease. Endless grisly possibilities swarm your mind. All it could take is a greeting, wave, hell, even a look for Feitan to decide that person’s committed the ultimate transgression. 

Suddenly, this preoccupation flees your mind.

Shivers erupt all over your body. Your breathing halts, as do all other forms of movement. The five senses that categorize and make sense of the world recede, like the shoreline moments before a tsunami. What remains eclipses common sense. It’s this unprovable premonition, a whisper amidst the universe’s chaotic chorus few can ever hear. No tangible stimuli support this phenomenon. You’d believe yourself temporarily mad, if not for one damning detail. 

You’ve felt this before. 

The time you’d been found after your first (and only) escape. 

After a well-meaning Hunter pried you from the shackles of captivity, for less than a minute. 

Then, at the height of your hubris, when you yelled that your first love would be your last. 

The intensity honed to a fine point. It pierced through you like a gunshot, so visceral that you’d check yourself for signs of the wound. You never found anything. You think it was how your brain wanted to make sense of the unknown, mistaking the force of concentrated emotion for a flesh wound. This extremity wasn’t kind, but it wasn’t malevolent either; it was oppressive. Heavy, carnal. A starved beast prowling toward cornered prey. 

When you’d been subjected to this, the subjugator always spoke some variation of— 

“—Apologies. My control waned there, for a moment… but can you blame me?” 

Someone’s touching you. Someone’s cupping your face in their hands, devouring each detail of your being, and Feitan’s letting them. You stumble back, only to be caught. The hands holding you in place are larger than Feitan’s. Warmer too, a little less calloused, though no less stained in oceans of blood. If Feitan’s eyes are knife-like, trying to stab through your skull for any hint at your inner thoughts, then these eyes are calm. Calculating in a way that makes you feel small. 

“You’re lovelier than I remember,” the man murmurs. A breeze passes through, displacing your hair, which he tucks back into place. His lips twitch upward, indicating amusement. “What? Did you believe you’d ridden yourself of me?” 

Despite your reverie, you shake your head. The man before you — Chrollo Lucilfer — smiles. It’s deceptively soft. Had you not known him better, you’d think the fondness he currently regards you with as warm; the gentle flames of a hearth. There are tells that reveal another story. His grip varies in strength as he’s reminded of how delicate you are, indicating a lack of his usual ‘mindfulness.’ You both know he’s putting on a front of normalcy, yet the charade is rarely this lackluster. He descended upon you faster than the human eye could comprehend. There’d been no casual stride, just an impulse to have you as immediately as physics would allow. His pupils are dilated and his cheeks slightly flushed, like you were a substance to get drunk off of. 

The embrace he pulls you into is tight enough to make you squeak. 

You expect him to rile you up, whispering teasing words into your ear, yet he’s silent. Unusually so. He buries his face into the crook of your exposed neck, breathing you in, holding you close. Any pretense of cordiality is dropped as he acts like the greedy man he truly is. This neediness is reminiscent of a child reunited with their lost, favorite toy. 

The unsettling intimacy doesn’t last for long. 

Chrollo releases you from his grasp. The relief is fleeting, as you’re acutely aware of Feitan’s presence. He’s stationed not far behind you, watching the scene in silence. The sadistic man’s capacity to share fully eluded your understanding. From what you can remember, Chrollo’s more willing to discuss their past, but solely on his terms. He’s never explained why Feitan is the way he is, or how he views you. 

“He’s fond of you, in his own way,” is the most you got out of Chrollo, during a late-night talk. “He’s just shy.” 

“It’s good to see you again, Fei,” Chrollo greets. 

Feitan nods — his way of returning the sentiment, you reckon. In Chrollo’s absence, you’ve learned to interpret his behavior to minimize friction. The deference he has for Chrollo is subtle yet undeniable. Others might misinterpret Feitan’s silence as indifference, but you know better. In Chrollo’s presence, he straightens his posture, giving him rapt attention. He follows any order given by his boss. 

Especially those regarding you. 

Ever since that fateful September, Feitan went from a background character in your life to the lead role. He didn’t reveal much, just that you wouldn’t see ‘the boss’ anytime soon, as he needed to ‘fix things.’ York New was a sore subject that you rarely broached. Nearly ten months have passed since you’ve last seen Chrollo. Physically, he’s the same. There are bandages wrapped around his forehead, covering his forehead tattoo. He’s wearing his teal earrings, dark jeans, and a gray v-neck. 

Seeing him now, it’s almost like nothing’s changed. 

Almost. 

“Lost in thought, love?” Chrollo wonders. 

Blinking rapidly, you realize they’re both staring at you, awaiting an answer. 

“You’re… you’re back,” is your genius observation.

“I am.” 

“You were… um… gone,” you fiddle with your fingers, “For a long time.” 

“I was,” he agrees with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. You see dark circles forming beneath them. “This entire affair has proven itself tedious. No matter. In a few short days, it’ll all be over.” 

“There’s more to take care of?” 

He hums, the sound low and somehow eerie. “You could put it that way. Originally, I was going to wait until after I evened one last score to see you, but impatience got the best of me.” 

“Ah,” you shift your weight from foot to foot. “That explains it, then.” 

“Explains what, dear?” 

“You seem, I don’t know… off? Creepy to the second power? Cubed?” 

Chrollo gives you a blank stare. Feitan’s hissing something about how you ‘talk too much,’ his displeasure evident. It dawns on you then that you haven’t interacted with Chrollo in so long, it’s possible his tolerance for your nonsense isn’t what it once was. Especially considering the state he’s in now. Regret churns your insides as silence fills the air, thickening it like smoke. You think to apologize, only to recall their dislike for insincerity. Feitan never wanted apologies, whereas Chrollo accepted them if proven genuine through a rigorous process. 

You wince at the sound Chrollo muffles behind his hand. 

Then, much to your disbelief, it evolves into a chuckle. 

His shoulders tremble as his eyes turn crescent-shaped, gleaming with mirth. He shakes his head and clears his throat. After a few seconds, he regains control of himself, though his posture is less rigid. This visage aligns better with your memories of him. He liked pretending he was ordinary — almost as much as you liked pretending to believe him. 

Feitan clicks his tongue. “This girl… always says. Never thinks.” 

“You must admit, it’s a cute habit,” Chrollo says.

To this, Feitan mutters a phrase in his native language, turning his gaze away from you. 

You cross your arms over your chest. They both had an irritating tendency to talk about you like you weren’t present, a pet peeve you hadn’t had to deal with in a while. The candidness they displayed made you wonder what they spoke about when you weren’t around. A pandora’s box best left unopened, surely. 

Chrollo pries one of your hands free to hold in his own. “Words cannot convey how much I missed you."

He follows this admission up by kissing the back of your hand.

“... I can’t stick around much longer, I’m afraid,” he murmurs. “Bear with me a while longer.” 

Another chaste kiss. After allowing his lips to linger on your skin a while longer, he relinquishes his grip, tucking his hands into his pockets to deter him from further indulgence. 

Unexpectedly, it’s Feitan who shifts the topic. 

“Boss,” he speaks, now lurking by your side. “She watch the fight?” 

Furrowing your eyebrows, you glance between them, thrown off by the cryptic language. Truthfully, you don’t want to know about whatever it is Chrollo has to do. From what you can glean, it’s likely to involve people getting hurt or dying. You’ve learned the best way to keep your conscience clean is to remain ignorant. If you press on certain issues, Feitan will gleefully overshare gritty details you could’ve gone without. 

His response is swift and firm. “No, not this one.” 

“... That bad?” Feitan asks. When all Chrollo does is smile, he adds, “Heh. Poor clown.” 

Chrollo’s phone vibrates in his pocket. Upon reading the caller’s name, he steps away. “Keep an eye on her for me a while longer, Fei.” 

The aforementioned man grunts. 

Chrollo spares you a long, final look. 

His lips part, as if he intends to say something, before they shut. Inquisitive, you tilt your head, not used to him hesitating. He’s always projected this self-assured image — untouchable, near omnipotent. Flaws don’t suit him. There's this invisible screen that separates you from men like him and Feitan. Their access to abilities beyond comprehension elevates them, setting them apart..

You prefer it that way. Categorizing them as 'others' is easier than reconciling the fact their more human than infernal.

Eventually, he gives you an unusually reserved smile. 

"After everything's over, I'll find you."

[topzsun]

please sire may i have some more aventurine

SOMETHING HAPPENED (IM HEAD OVER HEELS)

── ♡ AVENTURINE

❝ desire is an ugly and beautiful thing. it makes you abandon every principle you've built your life around. it makes you care. ❞ author's note: of course you can have more aventurine, my disciple.

You liked to believe you were patient. You are careful with your words and temper. You work diligently with minimal complaints. Your track record for speeding through paperwork comes second to none. You could have been the poster child for the ideal IPC office assistant.

Unfortunately, Aventurine happened to be the one you directly take orders from. And he was much different than the other Ten Stonehearts, for better or worse.

“At the risk of sounding like I’m—God forbid—concerned about you, are you seriously going to take his deal?” Your frustrated face is reflected back to you, as you stand behind the man fixing up his fur-trim coat in front of the mirror. He finally looks over his shoulder, only to send you a mockingly serene smile. It’s become a routine ever since you began working under him. Every Friday night he will join a group of tycoons at a casino, and make a haphazard bet on his life. Predictably, he always walks out a free (and victorious) man but you don’t like to think about the day his luck runs dry. He’s abnormal, logic dictates that you shouldn’t worry. Yet, despite yourself, you care and you don’t think you can chalk it up to job stability anymore.

Aventurine isn’t a man you can underestimate. He’s intelligent and carries himself with a certain level of charm that you haven’t seen on anyone before. Yet, the most striking thing about him is his lack of regard for his own life. The IPC works under the principle of persistence and eagerness, and taking risks isn’t a foreign concept amongst the Stonehearts. However, Aventurine wasn’t just taking risks. He viewed his own life as if it were a chip to be traded in. To reduce his entire being into something tangible, that can just be passed around still bewilders you. He tells you he’s willing to give his all for everything. You suspect a severe case of an inferiority complex. You know his… background is difficult, though you are ignorant of any details. Aventurine likes you well enough, but you both don’t have the type of relationship where you can sit together and discuss the paths that made you both into the people you are today.

It’s not appropriate for him, as your boss. It’s not appropriate for you, as his assistant.

So you bite down any more complaints, signalling an end to your banter. You have pushed as far as the rules of your contract would allow you. He gingerly takes his fedora from your waiting hands and meets your gaze for the final time tonight.

“Lucky you, you get to have an early night today,” He teases, making the same joke he always does every Friday. Predictably, you roll your eyes.

“Yup, lucky me having to finish all the paperwork you don’t want to do,” You retort and he laughs breezily. “What would I do without you?”

“Probably get fired for never turning in your files,” You state flatly and he only gives a painted smile, amused. He checks his wristwatch and bids you a quick farewell when he realises he’s in danger of running late, and the large doors to his office shut close with a click. You are left alone inside the lofty walls of dark teal and gold decor and with Aventurine’s missing presence, it only then dawns on you how big the room is for one person and you imagine him sitting at his desk on his lonesome. You wonder if the echo in here ever drove him crazy.

The chilly air nips at your skin like bite marks, despite the bundles of fabric you huddled yourself in. Maybe it’s a sign to get a better coat and scarf, but right now your greatest concern was buying dinner and going home. The remaining paperwork finished without much fanfare, and Aventurine kept his promise that you’d be out of the office earlier than usual. You reminisce about the hot shower you will take, and the hot mug of cocoa you’d sip on as you languidly scroll through television channels. It’s the thought that keeps you moving on your two feet.

Until you stop at your favourite take-out place and are dismayed when you see an overwhelming queue formed outside the cramped, family-owned shop. Bodies pressed against one another, just the idea of tugging your way into the herd made your skin crawl uncomfortably. You are filled with reluctance, but your only option is to go hungry or walk back and take a train to the other side of town just for late-night dinner. You stand there listlessly, contemplating your options until an elbow is pressed against your side and someone gruffly chides “Move it!”. You are caught off-guard and shuffle out of the way, and suddenly your appetite doesn’t seem to take enough priority to have to deal with this type of crowd. You ready yourself to turn back and take the solemn walk home until there is a call of your name from a very familiar voice.

From the speed at which you turn around to face him, you think your head could spin. If Aventurine notices your sudden whiplash, he doesn’t comment on it, instead raising a gloved hand to give a brisk wave.

“Well, look who missed me so much they just had to see me again,” He drawls, stepping into the flickering light of the street lamp. There should be a word to describe how he makes you grind your teeth, and make your heart skip a beat.

There should also be a word for the specific type of shame that comes with falling for your boss.

“What are you doing here…?” You question and it wasn’t an odd thing to ask. This street, filled with humble stalls and corner stores, is not acquainted with people who have more money than they know what to do with. It is not a place for someone from the Ten Stonehearts. It is especially not a place for the likes of Aventurine. Despite your curiosity, he waves you off with an air of mystery that annoyingly reminds you of Jade.

“I just happen to be passing by on my way home,” He pauses as he gives a brief glance at the dimly glowing street. “When I see my poor assistant looking so frazzled. I’m not such a terrible boss to not help them out.”

You are sure he’s exaggerating your visible distress, but still, you instinctively look to the nearest glass window to see if it’s true. You miss how the corner of his lips quirks up to an affectionate smile, one he cannot fake nor conceal. By the time you turn back to face him, relieved that you didn’t look like a mess, he’s already donning his normally languid expression. “I suppose the queue is getting in your way of dinner, huh?”

Your silence is all the answer he needs as he slides off his sunglasses, revealing his muli-coloured eyes. Hues of cyan and purple melt together in a hypnotic way that reminds you of watching paint drip from a canvas. His eyes were his most prominent feature and symbolised so much about him that words fail to. It’s his origin, what people assume him to be, who he actually is, and the pain and anger that simmer in the depths of his chest. Of course, you are ignorant of this.

For you, they remind you what it means to look a man in the eye and feel entrapped by something greater than you could understand.

You are snapped back into the moment when he suddenly claps his hands together, as if coming to a sudden and genius revelation.

“Well, I can’t have you starving after helping me with all that work,” He steps closer to your space, and for some odd reason, you do not take a step back. “There is a bistro not too far from here. My treat?”

Professionalism will order you to politely reject his offer, to go home hungry and to distract yourself from the overwhelming feelings you have for this man. Unfortunately, these days your heart has gotten too loud for your ringing ears. So, you let yourself walk beside him, the brush of your fingertips sparking an electric sting within you. You remain none the wiser that after this, you will let him talk you into another dinner, and many more after that. The gap between the both of you creaks shut.

[poppy-metal]

poppyyyyy i’m gonna cry not the thing i sent you being turned into an au and i have no more ideas for it 😭😭 this is hell. all i have to offer is this ( https://pin.it/4XElozLiD ) is nepo brats wedding dress in my head and it was one of those ones that’s shot by vogue and like sponsored by harry winston and they have a breakfast at tiffany’s themed rehearsal dinner like just a massive networking event essentially that she only agreed to bc she REALLY wanted artashi to see and react and bust down her door to beg for her back. also love the idea of a shitty marriage, i imagine it’s like when blair got married in gossip girl and she thought everything was perfect (on the outside at least) and then when they had their first dance he essentially was like “play your fucking part and this will be so much easier for you” and she was like oooooh shit what did i do 😐 called tashi in tears and she charters her a plane and lets her stay at their penthouse for a few days…..i wanna sit on their couch in a big gown with tears streaming down my face and have them take care of me even tho they’re pissed :( doesn’t mean they wanna see me hurt this badly :( need to try to apologize through sobs and have art say we’ll talk about this in the morning as tashi brushes hair off my forehead and pauses like she’s gonna kiss it :(

OR you could have her freeze up after he pops her little perfect marriage delusion and have her go along with it for months, maybe there’s a fan account that follows your every move that tashi checks daily on a burner. she notices the dwindling amount of times you’re seen with friends, essentially the only time you’re seen now is with that man by your side. over the months your personality snuffs out entirely, looking to him before you speak, smiling along to whatever he says. people make jokes about how your PR team finally broke you. one day art is standing in the corner of their living room, face twisted up, doesn’t look up when tashi makes an inquisitive sound. walks over to her and turns his phone around to show her a photo of you walking hand in hand with your husband into a restaurant, faint bruises up your arm, hair covering your eye intentionally. she stares at the phone with no reaction. finishes getting ready to go, says she forgot something as they get in their car and runs upstairs and barely makes it to the bathroom before she throws up. you’ve changed assistants by now but she finds their information within the hour, loosely threatens them with telling her where you’ll be for the rest of the day, rolls her eyes hard when she hears a “they” instead of “you”. doesn’t change anything she has planned. she makes a call to her legal team after hanging up with your assistant because there’s no way your husband will let you out of this without a fight, one that she’s prepared to hold your hand through the entire way. she shoots her husband a text and lets him know to get the guest bedroom ready.

AUR.

i think..... both can happen. you run to tashi as soon as the wedding is over - still in your dress, though its ripped in places - show up on her doorstep because you know the code to the gate - shivering in the cold and when the door opens tashi is looks so soft. like she'd just gotten ready for bed. hair a little damp and curling at the ends. a pale peach robe tied around her waist. she's beautiful.

she doesn't look happy to see you. "what are you doing here?" said so coldly. like you're not welcome. and why would you be? its so different to face her anger through miles and miles of distance. all you've wanted for months was for her to just - notice you. give you attention. you'd even say sorry, take the blame, take every word back, if she'd asked. but she's looking at you like you're an annoying reporter. a nuisance shown up at her door.

you break down in tears. full body sobs that have you kneeling at her door, at her feet, head in your hands as you shake with all your bottled up emotions. "i messed up." you choke - "i - i - i - its all wrong - tashi - "

you can't speak through your tears, heaving through wet flem in your throat. she'd have every right to toss you out. you wondered how pitiful you looked right now, crumpled like this. still in your wedding dress. your new husband probably buried in some other woman for the night. he wouldn't miss you. you didn't want to go to your new home with him.

you feel warmth at your elbows. tashi's hands, cupping you. "come on." her tone isn't warm, but its lost its chill. she tugs you up. "come in - you'll get fucking pneumonia out here."

she brings you in - one hand at the small of your back to guide you. you sniffle. look around. her home still looks the same. familiar. you're brought to their big expansive kitchen - where art had been scrolling through his phone in sweats and a simple cotton shirt - finishing off a bowl of fruit - when you come into view his fork pauses in the bowl. his expression is completely unreadable. but its not very welcoming.

he looks at tashi, dismissing you. you try not to flinch.

"what's this about?"

tashi leaves you at the kitchen island to open the fridge. she fishes out a bottle of water and brings it over to you. "drink this." she tells you. to art she simply shrugs. "dont know." and she looks at you. "what's this about?"

you struggle to open the bottle. your hands trembling. after a few failed attempts art rolls his eyes, yanks the water from you and opens it with one twist of his wrist around the cap. quick and easy. he slides it back over to you and looks at you blankly.

under both their stares you feel the weight of all the months between you. all the shit you talked about them on social media. the things you'd said.... your bottom lip wobbles. eyes filling with tears. "im sorry." you say, softly. you cant think of what else to say. "im - im sorry for coming - i- ill go."

tashi reaches out. you're startled by how strong her grip is on your arm. her nails almost dig into your flesh. you welcome the sting. a show of emotion. even if its anger. her claws coming out.

"no." she snaps. "you dont get to show up here after the shitshow you've made of this year - in your fucking wedding dress - sniveling like some sort of damsel at our home and then just leave." she points to a stool. "sit. explain why you came."

her tone leaves no room for argument. you find your ass in the stool before you even realize you'd made the conscious decision to move there. like a doll on her strings. it'd always been easy to take her orders.

you try to explain but you're pitiful at it. you keep crying when you bring up your husband - the way he'd treated you. how trapped you feel. how you came here because - despite everything, this was your safe space - you'd never seen it any differently. and you knew, no matter what, tashi would answer the door when she saw it was you on the other side.

they're quiet after that. art works his jaw like hes rolling thoughts around in his head, but his distrust is obvious. you know if he'd been the one to see you at the door, he'd have never answered. that knowledge hurts deeply - to know he's completely detached himself from you. that you'd lost him. his care and his love.

you wondered if you'd be thrown out regardless but tashi rubs at her temple. suddenly looking very worn out and tired. "this is a fucking mess." she says and your stomach twists. you were always complicating things for them. being a burden. she drops her hand. looks down at you like you're a puzzle with a few pieces missing.

you guys are the missing piece, you think.

"you can stay the night." she finally settles on, shares a look with art who looks like he wants to say something about that but she silences him. "we'll talk more about this in the morning. you need..... you need to get out of that god awful dress. and too sleep."

art watches tashi guide you to their guest room with a frown. he doesn't like this. tashi is such a strong front on the outside, but she was alot more vulnerable than people realized. and you'd really hurt her. you'd hurt both of them, but arts feelings..... they didn't matter here. at least, not to him. he could shove down the heartbreak and the anger and the betrayal and everything else he felt about you to make room for the world of hurt tashi was going through. he had to be strong for her. and you being here - showing back up - pouring salt in an open wound - god. you were such a selfish fucking brat. always had been. he used to find it endearing. now he just wanted to throttle you.

in the guest room - tashi helps you out of the dress. her knuckles skim down your spine when she unzips you. kneeling down to help you out of your heels. you hiss when she turns your foot - assessing the blisters. "jesus." she huffs. stands and gets you some of her things to wear. a soft tank top and some shorts. arts boxers, actually. you flush when you put them on, under tashi's watchful gaze. she points to the bed when you're done, a silent command.

you sink down onto the comforter. bite your lip when she comes back into the room with a jar of ointment for your feet. "here -" she sits next to you, and a waft of her scent hits your nose. sophisticated and clean. she props your foot on her lap as she gently rubs the cream into the abused skin. you swallow, as you watch her. this gentleness. you'd missed it.

all your life you'd been 'taken care of' but only in the most clinical of ways. you had all the money you could want, maids to pamper you if you wanted, but it was nothing compared to being...... treated like a human. being cared for by someone who actually cares about you intimately.

"stop doing that." tashi says. she doesn't look up from her work.

"doing what?"

"looking at me like that." she tells you. she finishes and cups the lid back on the jar, and she looks at you. brown eyes.... sad. "we're not - " she breathes. shakes her head. "you can't look at me like that."

you scoot closer to her on the bed. she doesn't move away. "its the way I've always looked at you." you tell her.

she glances at you. glances down where your - her - shirt has slipped off your shoulder and its bare. so close to her mouth. she'd pressed alot of kisses there. left alot of marks.

"things have changed." she tells you. "you know that - you're responsible for it."

you place a hand on her thigh, just under her robe. lean in. "i know and im sorry." you slip to the floor then, on your knees before her. "i didn't mean any of it." you tell her, looking up at her. "i miss you, tashi. i miss art. i miss - us. i - i want you back."

tashi looks down at you. her hand comes out and she catches a strand of your hair between her fingers. rubs it. "you're married."

"I'll leave him."

her eyebrows jump. "you've been a very bad girl to me and my husband."

the way she says it.... bad girl. familiar warmth pools between your legs.

"i know." you whisper. "and im sorry." you lean more forward, and her legs slide open - her robe inching up her thighs. she watches you. heat in her eyes. she still wants you. yes. "let me make it up to you - to you both - i will - you know i can."

she studies you for some time. then she parts her legs wider. "show me, then. show me how sorry you are."

you dont have to be told twice - ducking your head down - diving between her soft thighs - you moan when you discover she's not wearing any panties. your mouth finding her pussy already wet and slick.

more wet than usual - but when you pull back - her hand comes down - tangles in your hair to keep you pressed against her bare cunt. you look up and meet her eyes as you allow your tongue to investigate - "that's it." she purrs. "you know what to do with that tongue -"

you gasp when you part her folds - a warm flood of salty fluid pouring into your mouth. a zap goes through your body at the realization.

arts cum.

she sees you realize it and bites her bottom lip. rocks herself into your face. "he's been so pent up lately." she tells you, hooks one of her long legs over your shoulder. "and its your fault - so -"

her nails dig into your scalp - "clean it up."

you do. whimpering into her pussy as you tongue the remaints of her husbands cum, scooping it into your mouth and swallowing greedily. you missed his taste so much. you wish he was here, pushing you into her pussy. slipping a hand down your shorts to pet through your wet slit. he'd make you eat every last drop before he sank a finger inside.

when everything is gone, tashi adjusts her grip. using you now. rubbing her clit against your nose and working her hips against your mouth exactly how she likes it. "fuck." she pants. she looks down at you and both her hands cup your cheeks. her thumbs rub into the skin. "pretty girl -" she breathes, and you whine, "this is what - fuck - what your mouth should be doing - instead of running off online -"

her grip turns vicious - her movements more forceful. properly fucking your face with her pussy. you just lay your tongue out and take it.

"you're such a goddamm brat." she hisses and her clit pulses as she starts to cum. "but - god, i missed you. yes -"

you lap up everything she gives you. eagerly. her hands carding through your hair as she comes down. she sits up, detaching your lips from between her legs and you look at eachother, lost in a moment together.

her fingers trace your wet mouth. and you part your lips for her instantly. looking up at her like shes a goddess - because she is. she strokes across your tongue with her fingers. your eyes flutter as you start to suck around the digits. mouth blessedly full. you bob your head up and down them, taking her past the knuckle.

your teeth catch on her wedding band and her breath hitches when you swirl your tongue around it. her mouth parted in wonder - like she cant believe you're really here again.

this is where you should be. always. at either her or arts feet. taking some part of them inside you. its what you're meant for. not money and wealth and jewelry but this. this, this, this.

tashi pulls her fingers back suddenly. her ring clicks against the back of your teeth.

her face shudders. closes off.

"that -" she licks her lips. "that shouldn't have happened." she stands, and you fall back on your ass. look up at her dumbfounded.

"tashi -"

"a mistake." she retightens the sash around her waist. rubs a hand down her face. looks down at you. winces. "don't cry."

but how can you not?

"but we just.... you said -"

"do you really think head is enough of an apology?" she tells you, and that tone is back. the cold one. she crosses her arms. "god, you've dragged my name through the mud. the damage you've done to arts career - we had to take a break, did you know that? he missed matches that could have changed his life. all of that, on hold, because you decided to throw a tantrum because what -" she laughs. "- you couldn't handle a break up? grow up."

she shakes her head. lips pressed tightly together. she cant look at you. if she sees your watery eyes she'll fold again. take you into her arms and forgert the past year entirely. fall back into bed with you and make you cum over and over until you were nothing but the shaking mess she missed seeing. god, she'd just cheated on art. fantastic.

"I'll help you get a divorce if thats what you want." she tells you, already walking away. "but after that? we're done. for good, this time."

the click of the door sounds like a bullet in your ears. you stay kneeled on the floor for a long, long time.

and the next morning - when tashi goes to wake you up. she finds the room empty but a note left on the bed. she almost doesn't want to read it. art is in the kitchen - making breakfast for four. because as mad as he pretends to be for her sake, he still thinks about you. cares about you. misses you as much as she does. it'll break him to learn about what she'd let happen - but only because he didn't get a chance to feel you one last time himself.

tashi was really the selfish one.

she picked up the note. read it.

i want you to know meeting you in that coffee shop was the best thing to ever happen to me. I'm a spoiled rotten brat, i know. but you taught me to be more. you let me into your life. gave me another person to love in art, and you both took care of me and treated me better than i deserved. im truly sorry for how things ended. and im sorry for how i acted after. i was hurt. i thought you didn't care about me. that maybe you never did. and i lashed out. im sorry. im taking back all my statements in an interview next week. i hope it can restore some of the damage I've done to you and art. you're two of the most wonderful people I've ever met. and im lucky to have fallen in love with both of you. im not divorcing my husband. i think maybe i can try to make it work. you dont need to worry about me, either of you, you've done enough of that. I'll be fine. love - your tinkerbell.

the note flutters to the ground limply. art calls that breakfast is ready.

tashi isn't hungry.

[lilyarchived]

too late [john price]

a/n: I wasn't originally gonna write anything yet because I still feel absolute dogshit, but this post by @gloomyyangel was too yummy to ignore.  I don’t really like this but what else can I do? Write some more? (gunshots)

warnings: smut after keep reading! (go away minors), swearing, hurt NO comfort, fem reader, mean!price at the start, 1.7k words oops, Lowkey abrupt ending.

summary: you let price imagine you as his ex wife because it will hurt even more to let him go, but what happens if he finally tries to make it up to you?

“F-fuuuck..” your husband groans. “Feels,, sso good, angie..” The sound of another woman’s name should be enough to make you feel bad, be enraged, scream at him, go apeshit crazy, right? Your whimpers of pleasure say so otherwise. It has been like this for years, you’ve come to terms that your husband, Captain John Price, will always see you as his ex wife. At some point you feel bad for yourself, you wouldn’t have let this shit slide. Hell, you wouldn’t even settle for a rich, handsome man all because he told you women should just stay quiet. The bitch slap you gave that man before storming out the restaurant stays engraved in the back of your mind, good days. 

But now? Now you’re settling for a man to imagine as if you’re his ex? Since when did your standards fall down to the deepest pit in the ocean? “ ‘m close, fuck, so tight for me.” You didn’t know whether to feel flustered or disgusted at the praise, knowing damn well he’s talking to angie in his mind. You gasp as your orgasm suddenly takes over your whole body, basking in that sweet, sweet pleasure. Hey, he can be a dick husband and still make you cum, nothing wrong with that. He follows suit after a few more thrusts, his hands beside your head grasping at the satin sheets. His moans ring through your ear until he finally plops down beside you.

You don’t expect him to clean up. At Least not like he used to. You get up to clean yourself before going back in the room with a warm and wet washcloth. You clean your husband up before noticing he’s already fast asleep. How did you ever get here? From your handsome Captain flattering you, taking you out on dates, treating you as if you are the sun keeping him warm, putting your pleasure first, and actually caring about you; to this man, ever so distant, calling you his ex wife’s name, never talking to you unless it’s work related or if he needs to let out some energy. And why the hell are you letting this happen? A man? Taking advantage of you? Making you some sort of sex doll?

You wish you could just be mad about it, scream and punch and cry, do anything to avenge your poor self. Yet you can’t. You love him too much, you love him like he painted the morning orange sky above, you love him like he hung up the moon and stars. You love him. Only Simon knows about his behaviour, you were a bit sceptical telling him everything since he always thought so highly of the captain, you feared he would take his side and tell you to get over yourself. You hadn’t expected him to pull you in a tight hug and whisper to you that you should leave him. You cried for the first time in a long time that night.

Snapping back to reality, you get dressed in your sleeping clothes and settle next to your sleeping husband. Staring into his shut eyes, wondering where you went wrong. You let your eyes droop to sleep, preparing your mind for another unbearable day tomorrow.

--

As months passed, you and John were still together, happy, no, but still married. You start to grow numb, never once batting an eyelash when he cums again after moaning “angie”. What an annoying sound in your ears it was. Don’t get me wrong, you still felt good whenever he decided to initiate something sexual with you. Your moans and whines fill the air alongside the sound of slapping skin. Simon gives you the usual disappointed look, but you honestly can’t tell if that’s his resting face or not. Then, everything changes.

“Darling, d’you wanna get food with me?” You freeze on the empty couch in the equally empty rec room. The sound of John’s voice making your heart skip a beat. He has never asked you to eat out with him, well ever since he normalised moaning a different name in bed. It’s like all his intimacy and chivalry left with your dignity. “Umm, I just had dinner Sergeant Garrick, Captain. I’m set for the night..” you reply after you peeked behind you, making sure he was talking to you. “At ease, I’m talking to you as my wife, [Y/N]” You let out a forced chuckle before going back to the book you were reading. “Why were you out with Kyle?” you hear him mutter. He can’t be serious. “..We were both free and hungry?” you reply in a meek voice. “I was free. Couldn’t even be bothered to ask your husband first?” 

The way your blood was boiling the moment that stupid sentence left his mouth. Why does he care? Does he think that he can moan a different woman’s name in bed and get away with it but you going out for dinner with a friend is all of a sudden, adultery? “You told me you’d be busy the whole day. Why is it a big deal I went out with Gaz? It’s not like I’ve been saying his name during sex.” You quickly shut your eyes, you didn’t mean to say that last part out loud. You prepared for his anger, instead you were met with a deep sigh. “I’ll let you be.” He says defeatedly, walking away from the scene. You see a confused Simon in the corner before squealing out of surprise. “How long have you been there, freak?” Simon only chuckles, “Tha’ don’t matter, Cap’n looks devastated. Ya think he’s been feeling guilty?” He sips on his black tea, you remove the hand clutching your shirt near the beat of your heart. “I don’t know, and I don’t care.” You fall face down on the couch to scream, ignoring Simon’s deep voice laughing at your pain.

What you both didn’t know is that John has been feeling bad for how he’s been treating you. He would notice your soft giggles echoing the hallways as Johnny picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, at how pretty you look in casual clothes, how your hair flows during bar hopping nights with the team, how your face shines in the city lights. How your nose scrunches when you get teased by Simon for liking your coffee too sweet. How beautiful you sound when he’s feeling you up and down, your surprised gasps as he rubs your clit in circles, how sinfully angelic you look when you come undone. Fuck, he really messed up.

So he makes it up to you, he cuddles after ruining your guts, he cleans you up, he wakes up before you to cook you breakfast. He makes your coffee the way you like it, gets you flowers every now and then, kisses you more passionately rather than his usual rushed ones. He loves you tenderly but it all seems foreign, even though he used to do it for the first few years of your relationship, you had already forgotten how it feels like to be loved by this man.

You feel nauseated. How could he go back to the way things were, like he hasn’t been giving you the cold shoulder for months now? Why now? WHY now? Why NOW? You stay cautious, every sweet move he’s doing puts you on edge. You knock on your Lieutenant’s door before he tells you to “come in” with that same ol’ gruff voice. As the night rolls in, you’ve already told him everything Price was doing, how he kept acting lovingly without addressing the past few months. He tells you you have two options: to confront him, or to go along with it. Neither of it seems appealing to you but deep down, you know he’s right. 

You thank Simon for the advice leaving his room to confront your husband tonight. The minute you walk into John’s room, his face lights up and asks you if you’ve eaten.  You scoff as you tell him you need to talk. “Why are you doing this to me, John?” you finally speak up after staring into the same eyes you fell for. His face drops, eyebrows furrowing, “What do you mean by that, dove?” A sigh escapes your soft lips, “Don’t call me that, John. Don’t act as if you weren’t just calling me, imagining me as your ex wife during our most intimate times. Don’t act like you haven’t been ignoring me, acting as if I didn't exist ‘til you needed work done or if you needed to have a shag.” You let out, tears staining your cheeks. John reaches out to wipe them but you move his hand away. “I mean, was it all a joke to you? Did I mean nothing but a body for you to imagine as if you were still together with her?” John finally talks, “You know it’s not like that, [Y/N]-” 

“Then what, John? What is it like? God, you- you” hyperventilating now, you search for the right words to come out. “You changed me. Acting like nothing’s wrong and being all sweet won’t work on me. I gave up on whatever our relationship was a long time ago.” His breath hitches, “Baby, please-” “I should go.” you cut him off. “Please, I’ll do better, we can start over?” he pleads, grabbing your arm. “It’s not that easy, John.” “Loving you is easy. I love you like it’s breathing. Please. You mean the world to me. I can’t let you go knowing i fucked up everything.” He sounds desperate now.

“I love you, John. But I don’t think I can ever love you like I used to.” He looks up to you, bloodshot eyes as tears pour over his face. You reach over to wipe them away. He leans into your touch. “Don’t give up on me, please?” You give him one last broken smile, “We’re way past not giving up, my love.” 

---

taglist for the people in the original post's comments LMAO (lmk if u want me to untag muheheh): @blackhawkfanatic @tf141gloryhole @montenegroisr @princesslikesfanfics @hoelesss

[lostinforestbound]

Could I request headcanons for Cal, Rolan, and Zevlor using their tail accidentally/purposely to stop their non-tiefling gender neutral crush from leaving yet?

Oooh what a fun one!! I can definitely do my best!

Cal, Rolan, and Zevlor Accidentally/Purposely Stopping Their Crush From Leaving

Cal

I see Cal as someone who can be very nervous around their crush without meaning to, at least as soon as he realizes he has a crush on them in the first place.

When he doesn't realize, he's very casual! He always wants to chat with them, and even actively looks for them when he knows they may be around, like at the tiefling party. When the realization hits him, he clams up.

His palms start getting sweaty, he stumbles over his words when he's put on the spot, he starts blushing whenever they put a hand on him; it's almost unbearable.

He wishes he was much more confident so he could just say what he feels, get it over with, but he doesn't want to ruin what he and his crush already have. He would rather stay quiet than possibly lose them over it.

He naturally gravitates towards them, and one day in the Elfsong Tavern, he chats them up. It was a casual conversation, and he barely paid attention to it, distracted by their face.

Then suddenly, they have to get going. Immediately he startles at that with a little "wait!" as they go, and his tail wraps around their calf.

Unfortunately, that causes them to trip on their feet. Everything happens very quickly! He reaches to grab them, but then he trips on the edge of a table, and they both crash onto the floor of the tavern.

He's immediately apologizing, helping them up and stuttering over his words, completely embarrassed by the whole ordeal. Gods, what was wrong with him?! They must hate him now! They'll never want to see him again!

His crush would suddenly start laughing, and he's shocked. He's worried that they're laughing at him but they reassure that they only find the situation is funny. "If you wanted me to stay you could have just asked!"

That's the moment he finally gets the courage to ask them out. He's absolutely delighted when they say yes, and he promises to make his tail behave.

Rolan

This would have happened during a fight. We all know that Rolan is short-tempered and can be snappy with people when upset. A good example is the first conversation with him at Last Light Inn.

But consider: What if that fight escalated? What if he took in further in his drunken state? What if he really let loose everything he's ever felt about them?

It's not intentional, he has a crush on them for hells sake, yet he's making a complete ass out of himself.

I imagine his crush (it could be Tav or someone else) practically drags him outside by the arm or ear so other people don't have to witness it, especially if things start getting personal.

They know he's extremely upset by what happened to his siblings, so at the time, they let him be angry at them. A silent encouragement to let it all out so he doesn't drag anyone else into this.

Honestly, it may bring the both of them near to tears. Rolan tends to say exactly what he feels in the moment, and sometimes it's really hurtful.

He finally calms, and he grimaces after realizing what he said to them. They turn to leave, and without thinking, his tail wraps around their ankle, as if having a mind of its own. Or maybe he truly wants them to stick around.

When they look back at him in confusion, he retracts his tail, mumbling something incomprehensible and stalks off along the shore. He doesn't look back, but gods, he feels guilty for yelling at them like back.

He definitely thinks he ruined his chance, and he doesn't blame his crush if they want nothing to do with him. But even so, after his siblings are saved, he intentionally wraps his tail around their wrist, asking to talk.

That's when he genuinely apologizes, for everything. His attitude, what he said, his drunken rage, all of it. His tail never lets go of them during since he wants them to listen. He looks up when his feels the spade getting thumbed by them, a smile of their face. He fell for them harder in that moment, and he hopes to formally ask them out after his apprenticeship is over.

Zevlor

Out of the other two tieflings on this list, Zevlor has a lot of control of his tail. He's a soldier, a Hellrider, he learned how to control every aspect of his body, including his pesky tail.

Anything he does with his tail would be on purpose, unless its relaxed and idle. He's gotten great at hiding what he feels by his hardening soldier days. Showing fear was not an option.

Even while he has a crush, he's the tiefling that hides it the best and doesn't change how he acts. He's still casual and open to conversation, but nothing more than that at first.

He's an older man now, his prime is long gone, and he has too many things to worry about. A silly crush is the least of his worries and he's very sure his crush does not feel the same about him.

This is especially after his failure in the Shadow Cursed Lands. He betrayed people who trusted him, leading them into a slaughter. How could his crush even look at him the same? He would never understand why they would still speak to him after everything, but here they are.

He notices his crush for them getting much bigger after that, but all he can think about is how pathetic he was for it. After all he's done? How dare he?

But he finds his purpose again during that final battle, and he finds his self-respect too. After the whole mess, he seeks his crush out to confess, just so he can have some closure on it. He'll never move on from these feelings otherwise.

It starts off as a casual conversation, making sure they were uninjured during the events, and them fussing over any injury he sustained. They were about to leave to find a healing potion, but he stops them with his tail around their waist.

When he lets go, he says everything on his mind about them. What he admires, how he feels, his hopes for their relationship. He's surprised by their excited affirmation that they feel the same, and his tail happily thumps on the wooden floor.

Throughout their relationship, he would start using his tail to tease them, especially to block them from going somewhere or grabbing them. He loves how it makes them laugh.

[queensunshinee]

Time Of Our Lives || Part 16

Part 16:

Patrick heard Liana vomiting faintly and it made him jump out of bed. "Li, is everything okay?" he asked from outside the bathroom. "Everything's great, go back to sleep," she stammered, and he sighed. He went to the kitchen and filled a glass of water, entered the bathroom, and saw her sitting on the floor, holding her hair with one hand and gripping the edge of the toilet with the other, trying to steady herself.

"Hey, baby, it's okay. I got you," he mumbled, placing the glass on the sink and sitting down next to Liana, holding her hair in place and tracing gentle shapes on her shoulder. She was shaking from the effort as her free hand also moved to hold onto the toilet.

"Sorry I woke you," she mumbled after a few minutes, not moving her head out of fear of vomiting again. "Don't be silly, is it something you ate?" he asked. His eyebrows furrowed as he handed her the water. "There was only regular milk at work, I probably drank one cup of coffee too many yesterday," she mumbled, and as soon as she finished speaking, she vomited again, and they found themselves in the same position.

"Come on," after a few minutes of this, he helped her get up from the floor. Patrick spread toothpaste on her toothbrush and put it in her mouth, starting to move it side to side. Liana could cry. She felt the tears gathering at the back of her eyes, in moments like these she remembers how gentle and sensitive Patrick can be. If he only wants to, if he cares enough.

He stood in the bathroom while she showered and didn't take his eyes off her, not in a sexual way but out of genuine concern. Because at the end of the day, Patrick loves her, even if sometimes he doesn't know how to show it.

"Shall we go back to sleep?" he asked hopefully. "There's no point, I feel better and in half an hour, I would've had to get up anyway," she shrugged as he handed her a towel. "Li, maybe you should stay home today?" he asked, even though he knew the answer. "I'm on a schedule and in a few days, the construction starts, I need to get there to fix some drawings. If I'm lucky, I might be able to leave earlier," she smiled at him. "I don't know..." he tried to protest. Just ten minutes ago, she was shaking in his hands, and now he has to let her get dressed and leave the house. "I'm fine Pat, really. I'll drink tea today, and I'll be okay," she gave him a small kiss on the lips and left the bathroom, concluding the conversation.

"Then there must be a pillar here, otherwise the whole thing will collapse, and we didn't draw it in the sketch." Art heard Liana's voice from afar, like an echo. He automatically found himself walking towards her, because that's why Art came. He didn't really care about the construction schedule; as far as he was concerned, the longer this thing took, the more time he had to come and see her work. An excuse to be close without being creepy.

"Hey," he gave a small wave, keeping his distance from her conversation but letting her know he was there. "Mr. Donaldson," she mumbled, and so did the guy working with her. Art could say that nothing happens in his body when she calls him 'Mr. Donaldson'. That formality in front of people doesn't affect him at all. It doesn't send a little shiver through him. No memories surface, and he certainly doesn't imagine that one day she might be 'Mrs. Donaldson'. He could say all that, but he tries not to lie too much.

"Miss Levy," he returned a toothy smile, and she walked towards him. "Why are you here?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Where? On the land I bought?" he was amused. Now that she was closer, he could examine her. He wondered if he would ever get used to the fact that she needed glasses now when she worked. Or the small wrinkle that formed on the side of her mouth from the number of times she smiled and laughed. He wished it was because of him. Too many times he thinks about the number of things he could tell her that would make her laugh enough to deepen that wrinkle.

"You look... green." he mumbled after a few seconds. She was pale, even for her. "It's January, I turn green in January." she retorted. "Liana." he tried a more official tone, a bit more concerned. "I'm fine, Arthur, let it go. Can I ask a favor?" she asked, looking at him with big eyes. Making him raise an eyebrow. There are very few things Liana could ask of him that he wouldn't agree to do. She must know that by now. "Always." he said quicker than his ego was happy to hear. "Can you give me Tashi's number?" she asked and saw his surprised look. "Why? Are you trying to steal my coach for your lazy boyfriend?" he asked, feigning amusement. He didn't understand the endgame of this move. Overall, he didn't understand what Liana had to talk about with Tashi; Liana hates tennis, and from what Art knows, Tashi enjoys talking mostly about tennis. "don't call Patrick lazy, can you give it to me or not?" she didn't answer him. "Will it hurt my interests?" he asked, pulling out his phone. "I would never do that, Art." she sighed, and he sent her the number. There are very few things Art Donaldson wouldn't give to Liana Levy.

Liana waved for a second when she saw Tashi entering the café where they had agreed to meet. She couldn't help but feel tense and wondered how to calm her jittery leg. Why couldn't she just act like a normal person and be more…cool.

"Hey, Liana, what's up? Sorry if I'm late." Tashi was a bit confused. A bit was an understatement. Tashi was very confused. 'Hey, it's Liana, if you have free time, I'd really appreciate it if we could meet' was the message she received yesterday, and that's how she found herself in a café, sitting in front of the girl Art has been trying to fuck without success for God knows how long. Tashi couldn't help but wonder what Art's tennis would look like if he succeeded.

"All good. I'm early." Liana smiled. "Do you want to order something to eat?" she asked, and Tashi waved at the waiter, asking for coffee. Her energy was businesslike. Always in a hurry. Always busy. It didn't matter that she came from the rain. It didn't matter if she was cold or hot. She had no time to waste. "What's up, Liana?" Tashi asked after a few more minutes of awkward silence. "Is this about Art?" she added. "No... Art's not involved." she answered too quickly. Why did she answer so quickly? "So how can I help you?" she asked, taking a sip of the coffee that had just arrived.

"I don't have many friends here." Liana took a deep breath. She knew how it sounded. Desperate and pathetic. But she had no choice. She really didn't know who to talk to. "So... you want me to?" Tashi looked horrified for a moment. Not understanding what situation she had gotten into. "God, no." Liana's eyes widened. "Can you stop with the leg? It's driving me crazy." Tashi said. All the chaotic energy Liana was emitting didn't suit her. It almost threw her off balance.

"I'm pregnant." Liana said quietly right after she took a sip of her tea. She examined Tashi, who looked back at her. "Patrick?" Tashi asked, and Liana looked at her horrified. "Of course it's Patrick's. Whose else?!" she defended herself. "So, congratulations, I guess?" Tashi still didn't understand why she was there. Why her time was being wasted with news about her ex from years ago. If it's not Art's child, if it doesn't become Tashi's problem, why bother filling her brain with this unnecessary information.

"No. I don't want this." Liana said, and Tashi couldn't hide her surprise. "I'm Sorry, what?" she couldn't stop herself. "It was a mistake. I'm on the pill, and I really don't know how it happened. I need to stop this..." Liana mumbled. It wasn't coherent, but Tashi understood every word. "You've been together for years, Liana, I don't understand..." Tashi tried to be more sensitive. "It's just not the right time. We need more stability, and bringing a child into something like this is just not fair." she said, looking at her for a change.

"I would go alone, but I need someone to be listed as an escort," she averted her gaze as she said it. Ashamed of what she was asking from the girl in front of her, a complete stranger in her life, yet the only one she could think of. "Patrick?" Tashi asked quietly. "He doesn't know." Liana's eyes filled with tears. "Please-" she had been thinking about this monologue from the moment she found out, three days ago. "Okay" there was no need. Tashi answered immediately. "Okay, I'll go with you." she smiled the most genuine smile she had to offer.  "Thank you." they both took a sip of their drinks.  The rain outside intensified.

When Liana entered the house, Patrick was in the kitchen, and she quietly leaned on the doorframe, watching him while he wasn't looking. Thinking about what she was going to do tomorrow. Knowing it's for their own good. He wouldn't understand if she told him. He wouldn't understand, and he would want to keep it, and neither of them could raise a child right now. She knows that. She knows he will hate her no matter what she decides tomorrow. If he finds out, he will feel trapped. He will feel like she has ruined his life. Again. Little by little. Each time draining him of the last drop of joy left in him. The last drop of youth.

"Are you just staring now? Not saying hello?" he asked, amused. He had felt her gaze on him for a few minutes. "Hey," she approached him and hugged him from behind. Leaning on his shoulder and closing her eyes. "Hey, Lilo," he was confused. Not understanding the sudden closeness. The last few days had been strange, to say the least. Liana and Patrick hadn't fought even once. She hadn't been feeling well, and he mostly tried not to bother her with his presence. He was afraid of making her feel even worse than she already did, and the more he distanced himself, the closer she got. The more space he gave her, the more she sought touch.

"What are you making?" she asked quietly, not moving an inch, still with her eyes closed. "I'm pretty useless, but I called your mom, and she gave me a recipe for the soup you like," he said quietly. "You called my mom?" she asked in a half-broken voice. "You haven't been well for a few days, Lilo. I wanted to make something that would make you feel good," their gazes met.

Liana started crying, and Patrick panicked. These weren't just tears welling up in her eyes but real crying with her hands on her face. "Hey, hey, Liana. What's going on?" he gently took her hands off her face, revealing how red she had become in those seconds, how sad she was. His hug was comforting. More comforting than anything she had felt recently. "I'm such a bitch. Really," she mumbled. "Lilo, you're the kindest person I know," he chuckled above her head, tracing small shapes on her shoulder while gently rocking her, trying to soothe her in any way he could.

"I really love you. You know that, right?" she pulled away from him for a second and studied him. "Of course, I know," he replied, "I don't understand what's going on, Lil. I need you to talk to me." He was half-lost, not understanding what he did or what she did that led to this situation. "I don't say it enough, but I really love you, Patrick. More than I love most people in the world," she said again, unable to stop the tears. "I know. I really know," he replied, hugging her once more, not letting her slip away from him. "You're okay. Whatever it is, we're okay," he said, and she nodded into him.

Liana also thinks that most of the time, they are okay.

The months that passed were more of the same. Liana worked on Art's house, meeting with him once or twice a week to show him the project's progress. Every time he tried to have a conversation beyond professional matters, Liana cut him off. She owed that to Patrick. She owed it to herself and Patrick to be okay. She couldn't let herself betray him emotionally with someone who, the moment he had a hold on her emotions, her entire system would recalibrate around him again.

The calm dynamic between Liana and Patrick lasted exactly two weeks. Liana was quite sure they didn’t know how to manage without fighting to the point where she wanted to smash a plate against the wall. Sometimes they went to bed without exchanging a single word, and those were the days it was hardest for her to be near him. Those were the days she also canceled meetings with Art because Patrick made her so angry she became indifferent. And indifference leads to mistakes. She knew that. She had seen it up close.

Now, with both Art and Patrick participating in the tournament in Atlanta, Liana found herself ordering coffee and soda at the hotel bar while opening her laptop, hoping to tie up some loose ends before sitting down with Art for a few minutes tomorrow. "Hey, Liana," she heard Tashi’s voice from behind. They hadn’t been in touch since that time, when Tashi went with her. But Liana had a soft spot for the woman in front of her. She used to be so afraid of her once, trembling when exchanging more than a word with her. Today she thought she and Tashi saw each other with flaws and strengths. Sometimes Liana didn’t know what her strengths were, but she always knew Tashi’s.

"Hey," she smiled at her. "Mind if I sit for a bit while I wait for my order for Art and me?" she asked. "Is he sending you to fetch orders now?" Liana raised an eyebrow. It was uncharacteristic. "Actually, no, I saw you from afar and didn’t want his mind to be distracted." Tashi said, and Liana rolled her eyes, wanting to say something. "There’s no way I could distract him right now. Not before I finish working, nothing to talk to him about" she said, and Tashi rolled her eyes and chuckled. Liana wasn’t entirely sure if something was happening between Tashi and Art. It wasn’t her place to ask him, she wasn’t in contact with Tashi, and her parents hadn’t told her anything special as gossip as they usually did about his life. Maybe it was just friendly, and she was purely his coach, but Liana didn’t want to be in the middle of it. She wasn’t going to disrupt Art’s happiness. She was with Patrick. Most of the time, she was happy with Patrick.

"Has he ever shown you his necklace?" Tashi asked. "Excuse me?" Liana was confused. "Art, has he ever shown you his necklace?" she asked again, slower, like speaking to a child. "No, I never asked, and it’s always under his shirt," Liana shrugged as Tashi took her order. "He’s such a pussy," she shook her head from side to side, chuckling. "So dominant on the court and yet, such a coward. Unbelievable. Good to see you, send my regards to Patrick," she smiled and walked toward the exit, not giving Liana a chance to respond.

Art was terrified. He was bored, so he went down to the lobby half an hour before the time he had arranged with Liana. He was so happy he could see her in person and knowing she was also in Atlanta, that he didn’t care the only reason they were meeting was to talk about the house. But now he felt the air leave his lungs. He saw Tashi and Patrick. Holding hands. Like that. In the fucking lobby. And while Tashi didn’t owe anyone anything, Patrick owed Liana. And Art was supposed to be happy because he understood what was happening. It was Patrick. No matter how much time passed, he knew Patrick.

When he returned his gaze to where they had been sitting, after giving someone an autograph, they were gone. His heart was beating faster than usual. He felt like crying. He was supposed to be happy, but all he could think about was Liana’s face and that he was about to be someone who told her something that would make her cry. Again. He swore to himself he'd never make her cry again, but he was about to. And he hated it.

"Donaldson," she smiled at him, causing him to jump in his chair. "How did you get so startled, you were practically looking at me," she rolled her eyes, and he smiled at her. "What’s wrong?" she asked. His smile was fake. Liana hated that she could still tell if his smile was fake. "Nothing, just thoughts about the tournament." he said. "You crushed your competitor today, you’ll be fine." she rolled her eyes. "Mind if I order some wine? It’ll help me sleep." she added. He didn’t know she liked to drink wine. "Of course. I would order some too, but, you know." he replied, somewhat pleased she was allowing herself to relax a bit around him. It took her only a year.

"So, I’ll show you a few things and then let you go." she said, sipping her wine, and he nodded. "Hit me." "Question, while the computer loads." she said, and he looked at her. Liana hated how his green hoodie made the bright blue of his eyes stand out. She had never seen so many shades of blue as when she looked closely at Art Donaldson’s eyes.

"Talk to me." he leaned on his elbow, not taking his eyes off her. A little reveling in the moment. A little afraid to ruin it. A little wanting to ruin it. Because the voice in his head told him he had to tell her. Liana had to know. She deserved to know. Art deserved a chance. He would never do this to her.

"What’s the story with your necklace?" she asked, and he raised an eyebrow, quickly running a hand over the back of his neck. "There’s no story." he answered too quickly. He wanted to punch himself for it. "Arthur. Come on, what’s the deal, you didn’t wear a necklace when we were kids. Is it a gift from someone?" she asked. "Are you keeping track of my jewelry, Liana? Be careful, I might think you care about me more than you let on." he knew it would make her change the subject. He wouldn’t tell, but the blush on her cheeks and the big sip she took from her wine only made the conversation better.

"This is the final plan. They started the interior construction two days ago." she showed him a diagram on the computer, moving a bit closer to him. Close enough for her scent to hit him like a slap in the face. He wanted to dive into that closeness. To reach out. To tell her and immediately promise everything would be okay. That he would be there to pick up the pieces. He knew he could.

"I saw Patrick and Tashi earlier." he said quietly, almost in a whisper. Not taking his eyes off her. "Oh, I didn’t know they were in touch..." Liana said, not moving her eyes from the computer. "Liana," he sighed. He hoped she would understand from the previous sentence. That he wouldn’t have to say it. "What?" she looked at him and chuckled, but her smile quickly faded when she saw his expression, "Just say what you have to say, Donaldson." she said with an uncharacteristic coldness.

She knew Art too well. Every time she tried to deny it, she could precisely recognize a look he gave or a joke that no one around understood. She knew how to tell by his walking pace to a construction site if he had a good practice or if he was tired. She knew who he was at his core. And more than anything, she knew how he looked when he was about to break her heart.

"They were holding hands and then disappeared from my sight," he sighed, breathing heavily. He said it in a whisper, almost not wanting to say what had been weighing on him. "Oh." she drank all that was left of her wine in one gulp and signaled the waiter she wanted another glass, returning her gaze to the computer. "I need to finish a few things, and I believe we can wrap everything up in two months. After that, you’ll need to work with an interior designer-" "Liana." Art interrupted her and placed his hand on hers, giving it a slight squeeze. This made her move her hand to her leg.

Without realizing it, tears welled up in her eyes, and the waiter who brought her wine hurried away from the table as fast as he arrived. "Talk to me, please." he was desperate to know what was going through her mind. "It’s okay, it’s whatever," she shrugged and looked at him indifferently, letting one of her tears fall.

"Liana." he sighed. "How is it okay? He’s cheating on you." Art wanted to raise his voice. He wasn’t mad at her. He was mad at Patrick. He was mad at the circumstances. He was mad at himself. "I know what holding hands and disappearing with Tashi Duncan means for someone like Patrick, Art. Contrary to what you think, I’m not stupid." her words were almost venomous, but he knew she wasn’t lashing out at him. He knew he was the closest person right now. He was ready to take it.

"What do you think is happening here?" she asked, taking another big sip of wine. "That I’ll hear about Tashi and Patrick and go up to your room so you can fuck me until I forget all my problems?" she asked, and he almost choked on his own spit. He didn’t expect her to be so blunt. That sentence showed how long she’d been in a relationship with Patrick. He spoke through her.

"No, Liana." he sighed again. Running his hand over the back of his neck once more but this time leaving it there a little longer. "I’m content in my relationship. Shit happens." she finished the second glass in one go and closed the laptop, ready to leave. "Shit happens? How many times has it already happened, Liana?" he couldn’t believe the level of indifference. He wanted to shake her so hard that her brain would reset and go back to the beginning. To reboot her self-respect that had clearly been trampled on more than once.

"Bye Art, good luck tomorrow." she muttered and turned. This time his grip on her hand was firm above the table. She wouldn’t be able to move him. Not now. "You’re making a scene." she whispered. He couldn’t help but think about the power dynamics between them now that she was standing and he was sitting, but he was holding her. She couldn’t move as long as he was holding her. And if it were up to him, he would hold her forever.

"Look. Here." he did the only thing he could think of and pulled the pendant of the necklace over his shirt. Seeing her breath catch for a moment. "Is that...?" She couldn't find the words and automatically moved her free hand over the metal. "Yes." He whispered. His grip loosened, and he let his fingers intertwine with hers over the table without her pulling away. "Why?" She murmured, not stopping her hand from moving over the pendant, her dorm key. The key he refused to return to her time and again. Hanging around his neck. "You know why." He closed his eyes for a moment. "Why?" She asked again. Not letting go. She had to hold on to something, and he knew that if he wanted to give her a moment of peace, even if not for himself—because for himself, he would have chosen another way to tell her, to show her—that all these years, she had been his good luck charm, even from afar. Right now, she was the only one who mattered. Only succeeding in changing the way she looked at herself and what she thought she deserved. "Because I’m yours. I’ve always been only yours."

Oh my god!!! I hope it wasn't too long. I feel like so much has happened in this part, but we are finally in Atlanta. What are you thinking guys? We've got a bit more Tashi on this one. I love hearing from you, so talk to me. Thanks for still reading and commenting. It means the actual world. 

taglist: @soberbabes @nina357 @lamoursansfin @marley1773 @ruyaas-world @apolloscastellan @primlovesdilfs @fangirl-kimora @serenadingtigers @imbabycowboy @do-it-for-kicks @izzywags478 @4deline08 @igotmajordaddyissues @jackierose902109 @ganana @yoitsme-04 @swetearss

[polin-erospsyche]

This post was inspired by a comment from an anon in my ask box. They mentioned that if the Queen hadn’t interrupted Polin's wedding, they could have had a beautiful wedding night (if you’re the anon and you’re reading this, hi! And also, I know this isn't everything, but I'll touch on the rest. Small disclaimer: this got long and I’m sorry).

I agree, that could have happened. But honestly, I'm really glad it didn’t. Don’t get me wrong, I would have loved to see it, but I don’t think it would have been good for them. The intimate scenes we did get tell an overarching story and serve a purpose in the narrative. We’ve been told that these intimate moments are a way for them to communicate, so let’s unpack that.

The first intimate scene is about them discovering each other in a new, intimate way, moving from friendship (which had already started to happen in the carriage) to a lover relationship. This moment is crucial for Penelope's story and character development. From this, she grows in confidence and self-awareness. She expresses this to Colin multiple times, such as when she says, “with the confidence you’ve helped me find this year,” and later, “You’ve taught me to hold my own. You have shown me I’m capable of pleasure beyond imagination.”

From that intimate scene onward, Penelope starts to come into her own power and that includes her sexual power. Colin shows her a level of love and care beyond what she ever thought possible, breaking down the belief system she built around herself. She was ready to sacrifice her dreams of being loved and held for financial stability, a mindset ingrained by Portia. Colin helps her see that this doesn’t have to be the case, chipping away at her long-held beliefs.

Let’s now move to the scene in the alleyway, which links back to anon’s comment. Anon suggests that this is the moment they start repairing their relationship post LW reveal. That following this scene they were in a good enough place to enjoy their wedding night if the Queen hadn’t crashed the party. Yes. And no. 

And oh my god how I’ve longed to discuss this scene but I never quite knew how to approach it. At this point in the show, the narrative is like a tightly wound ball of yarn with so many threads to pull at. So, let’s attempt to pull at them. 

First of all, they’ve entered a whole new playing field. And they’ve entered this playing field while being “the oldest of friends really” so they have ammunition against each other. Pen has hurt Colin by lying (hiding the truth from him time and time again) about her identity. She has let him go on and on about his despise of Lady Whistledown. About his dreams of being an author. These were things he told her in intimacy. Those were things he told his best friend and the person he fell in love with. Not the woman who hides behind her column and has done so much wrong to his family and loved ones. 

There is a separation between the two. For Colin, in that alleyway, there is still just Pen his best friend, Penelope the woman he loves and on the other side of that there is Lady Whistledown, the woman he vowed to destroy. He expresses that when he says “so then you do not need Lady Whistledown anymore”. What he fails to realise at this point, and he cannot be blamed for that, is that Lady Whistledown is an integral part of who Penelope Featherington is as a person. That her alter ego is not just a mask she wears but a crucial aspect of her identity, giving her a sense of power and agency in a world that often limits her as a woman. Something that Pen has slowly come to terms with when she says that she no longer needs to hide behind this alter ego but that does not mean there is no value in it, something that she also explains to him after the Queen has crashed their wedding breakfast. 

Now I say that he cannot be blamed for his refusal of recognizing that they are one and the same because he is still holding onto his misbelief, which is that to be loved and to have a value he must protect what he loves and be useful. Part of that is saving and avenging the people he loves from Whistledown. He has given his word to Eloise, to Marina indirectly, to himself and I’m thinking to Pen silently after what she’s written about herself. He finds himself, due to his misbelief, between a rock and a hard place: “the person he vowed to destroy is, in fact, the person he vowed to protect, and there is no separation between the two” (not me directly quoting myself lol). To this you add all the shame over his writing and his envy of her success and you have a recipe for disaster. 

So essentially, in that alleyway you have Pen who is already well along her character arc and Colin who is still gripping onto his original, unchanged self. This represents a power imbalance. What I love throughout this season, and I might write something about this one day, is that Pen and Colin are never quite on the same level both literally and figuratively. There is always one ahead of the other. This, in the long run, is another recipe for disaster because they are never quite equal. That is UNTIL that butterfly ball when they’ve gone through their character arc respectively. That is the moment they fully come together. They become a unit. They are no longer fighting against each other but with each other and for each other. 

But to arrive to this moment they need to do it separately. They need to be able to work on themselves before they can fully be able to work on their marriage. Genevieve says it well “there is no such thing as true love without first embracing your true self”. For Penelope that is becoming Penelope Bridgerton, an amalgam of the best parts of Whistledown and Penelope Featherington. For Colin that is deconstructing his hero complex and fully believing that he is enough just by being exactly who he is. And that has not happened in that alleyway. Truthfully the surface has barely been scraped in that scene because she essentially shuts down his demons for an instant by saying that she loves him. However, the issues remain. 

So yes, we can speculate all we want. If the Queen had not interrupted their wedding, they might have had a wedding night and they might have had a talk about everything afterward. However, the lack of acceptance of their true selves would have driven them up a wall at the next problem, which was how to handle Cressida.

And I think that is why Polin season is actually so beautiful. It is not just about Polin. It is about marriage and how hard it can get, and how you have to work on yourself to fit around the person you love without sacrificing yourself in the process. It is about choosing each other every day, through the ugly as well as the beautiful, through the hard parts as well as the easy ones. It’s choosing to have faith that you’ll work and figure it out without an assurance that it actually will, but if the love is there, then it just might. That is the story they chose to tell through Penelope and Colin.

First gif made by my bestie @polinsated 💕

[mildlyromanticperv]

What took you so long?

MReader x Eunha fluff. Friends to lovers.

-Hey, you. -You call out for your best friend Eunha after arranging going out to watch a movie.

-Hey! -Her unwavering excitement and cuteness fills your heart with joy, like every time she smiles.

-You ready? We need to go fast, the movie starts in 15...

-Yep! Actually, I called a cab, it should be here any second... -She looks around waiting to see that yellow car, not long after it appears around the corner.

Upon entering and providing the directions you remain silent looking outside the window, lost in thought as your imagination runs wild on how will your best friend react when you finally say it, when you finally confess.

-Hey, you're quieter than usual, is everything okay? -Her sweet voice brings you back to reality as she places a hand on your shoulder.

-Yeah, I'm fine, work is just too much sometimes and I didn't get enough sleep. -You chuckle slightly trying to brush off the anxiety that you're feeling, certainly there's no good time to speak of your feelings...

During the silent car ride, Eunha can't help but feel uncomfortable, she's used to your bickering and unending yapping of your work or love life, or precisely the lack of it, drowned in worries she gets closer and covers your hand with hers.

-Look, sweetie, you can trust me, whatever's going on you know you can talk to me, right?

If you would have to create a scale from 1 to 10 grading the levels of blushing, you'd certainly be at 11 at that very moment feeling her soft hand and tender caress, she clearly worries, she is clearly caring for you.

-I'm fine, Eunha, for real, it's so cute of you to worry about me but I promise, I'm fine. -The way she looks at you with so much worry just melts your heart, even when through your mind hundreds of thoughts of insecurity and doubt clouds your judgement... Despite the fake smile you put up she smiles back.

-Okay I'll take your word for it but you better be telling me the truth, mister. -She crosses her arms and pouts playfully.

Not really paying attention to what just happened you two arrive at the nearby mall ready to spend the next two hours sitting in awe to the last Avenger's move you two are completely fans of.

Despite what people usually say, spending this much time together with your crush is not that bad, even though in your heart you feel like there's no future... Are moments like these the ones that make it all worth it, or at least that's what you thought all this time, it's what you thought until she closed the gap between you two after coming out of the cinema.

-God! Why are all cinema rooms so freaking cold!

-It's your fault for coming in such a cute dress. -You laughed at her reaction clearly amused and enjoying her closeness, despite her annoyed pout she smacks your arm murmuring "idiot", but in a playful way.

-I'm glad you came with me, Eunha, I know your sisters probably didn't want you to come alone with me... -You chuckle nervously.

-Nah it's fine, they're like that but because they're sure you like me. -Eunha says this without thinking and without expecting that her words would make her blush so hard... Why is this happening? Does she really like her best friend? Should she take the next step?

Her silence worries your heart, it's unlike her to become quiet all of a sudden and it's rarer to see her blush at her sisters teasing... Could it be...?

-Hey, I wanted to talk to you about something, why don't we go get some coffee? -Your reassuring smile sends a warm wave through her body, returning the confidence and her smile.

-Sure, but you don't have to be so cryptic, idiot... -Her usual self comes back as she pokes your cheek protesting.

Some time later...

"This is it." You thought, the time has come finally, is it now or never...

"Either you speak up or you'll lose him forever." The thought crossed her mind when you two finally sat down at the coffee shop and the silence covers you both.

-Eunha... -You're the one to speak first, a billion ways to tell her your feelings cross your mind and none of them is the way you had it planned. -I like you. -Is the only thing you blurted out after feeling everything at once, after all this time...

-I like you too. -Her words come like a bucket of cold water, you open your eyes as much as you can and gasp in full on shock when you hear her words.

Silence falls between you two.

Ten, fifteen, thirty seconds fly by feeling like an eternity...

-You really mean it?

-Yes, Eunha, I really mean it... Since always, I haven't been able to think of anyone but you. -You finally get the courage to look at her in the eyes. -I really like you.

Your heart starts to swell and ache at the sight of her tears coming down, you never thought such simple words would hurt her that way...

-I'm glad. -She says between tears. -Because I didn't know how to tell you either, I was afraid that once I told you our friendship... Us... Would end.

Maybe it's the influence of all the romantic novels and shows you used to watch alone, maybe it's the hero complex you developed when you were a kid, but without giving it a second thought you decided to stand up and quickly rest one knee on the ground while cleaning her tears.

-There's no way in hell I'm going to let us end. Especially now that I know that you feel the same way for me as I feel for you. -The soothing feeling of your hand running through her cheek makes this moment a million times better for her, your eyes meet as the emotions flow out like a stream. Despite the lack of words you are encountering in a bubble, where only you two exist... Where nothing else matters.

Where you two can finally be together.

-What took you so long to tell me? -She asks, the sheer raw happiness pouring out of her every word pierces through your heart making it beat faster and faster, rendering you unable to answer for a couple of seconds.

-I don't know, I seriously don't know! But... -You take a deep breath to collect the last bit of courage you need to take the leap, the final stretch, to kiss her. -But I'm done holding back.

Right at that moment you cup both of her cheeks to hold her into place, you quickly lean forward meeting her lips for the first time and even though it's a rash decision, you make sure your every movement is accurate, precise, filled with emotions.

Her lips respond to your touch dancing freely and hungrily as she returns the kiss with equal passion, she closes her eyes to savour every single second of this intense exchange, remembering every fold, every corner, every inch of you...

The time has finally come.

You two are finally together.

There's no stopping now.

-I love you. -She says after finally being able to convince herself she could live a couple of seconds without your lips and your touch.

-I love you too, Eunha.

[fyorina]

I CAME SCREAMING AND RUNNING WHEN I HEARD YANDERE DAZAI OMLL HOW DO YOU PERSONALLY SEE YAN!DAZAI??? cause theres so many ways to characterize him if he becomes Yandere especially if you compare and contrast his PM and ADA self

... here we go. yanzai my beloved - i dont think u guys understand how insane i am over him. anyway, i'm not making this one as long as i planned to because (surprise) i've planned out a two-part fic for this that i want to write when i'm done with civilian!dazai, and i dont want to spoil it. hehe.

but. in general, i think even non-yanzai would be veryyyyy possessive over his lover. yanzai is on an entirely different level though - and even WITHIN yanzai, i think pm yanzai and ada yanzai are entirely different monsters and i mean that so literally. but first, in general, possessive, very manipulative. yanzai has likely found his reason to live in his lover and he's NAWT about to let that go.

yanzai in general would tend to lead toward manipulation through guilt and isolation, i think. i don’t think any version of yanzai would ever get violent with his partner and i stay heavy on that belief. he’s got more of a tendency to treat you like you’re something fragile that could break at any given moment.

also i'm going to split pmzai into two - canon pmzai (ages 15-18) and then pmzai in an au where he never left the pm. so the order i'm gonna talk about is canon pmzai, canon adazai (as a direct follow up to canon pmzai), and then im gonna talk about pmzai au where he never left the pm.

for the purposes of this, assume that reader joined the pm when they were young

canon pmzai

so first i want to talk about how it probably starts, because i could sooooo very much see this starting while he & his lover are young. since this is canon, i imagine they meet at around 15/16 like i have dazai & pmreader meeting. dazai's clearly a lot more unstable during his early pm years and i think his obsession with his lover could start with something really minimal tbh. maybe they shoot an offhand compliment to him, or stop to pick something up that he dropped, and dazai is just so alone & isolated by mori atp that he just completely fixates on this person because they’re the first one to ever say/do something kind for him, as small as it may have been.

i think it would even start out harmless, spends a lot of time thinking about you, daydreaming. maybe he even steps in on missions for you - which he notably doesn't do for anyone because he doesn't want to do more work than he has to. but something would happen that eventually triggers the shift from harmless to a veryyyy dangerous obsession. maybe you got critically wounded on a mission, or maybe you start spending time with other people—whatever it is, it just flips a switch in him because he realizes that he is not about to loose you and he doesn't care what he has to do to make sure of it.

on this topic ^^ maybe this is a hot take, but i think canon pm yanzai would be entirely more dependent on his lover compared to adazai. adazai is still dependent, but not to the extent pmzai is. i know people hc him as hyper independent, which i also mostly hc for him, but i think if he's found someone that he's attached himself to like this, he’s young enough that he'll quickly become codependent on them, and that obviously scares him which makes him even more intense with his yan tendencies.

that being said, i still think that he would be careful to not alert you to any shift of his mentality. he'd be very hyperaware of keeping a good image in your eyes, so everything he does do is going to be behind the scenes. he'd probably work a lot with isolation and trying to make you as dependent on him as he is on you—justifies it by telling himself that it's not fair that he can't live without you but you can live without him LOL, won't be satisfied until he's inclined enough to believe that if he was gone you would be ruined without him (which comes into play when he leaves the mafia). he also makes sure that the missions you go on - if he even has you going on any - are all easy AND he makes sure he's overseeing them. probably phrases it as just a shift in command, assuming you were someone else's subordinate first, and you don't really have any reason to think anything of it.

i think he'd keep a really tight hold on his image up until the events of dark era, that whole ... week ? i assume its about a week, of everything going down with ango and oda just tosses him into a mental spiral and he'd probably let the mask slip a few times in front of you. i still don’t think it’s enough for you to really question anything—not until he leaves, that is.

now moving on to adazai - but first, the underground years:

we're gonna assume that you stay with the pm when he leaves. i think he'd spend a lot of his underground years honestly just keeping an eye on you from a distance. i think he'd be like very back and forth with how he feels, like a part of him is soooo satisfied that you're so broken about him leaving but then the other part of him has him wanting rip out his own throat for being the reason for your distress. he'd be rlly hyperaware of you "moving on" from him. his go to would be driving people away from you, like it was while he was with the pm but it's a lot harder now that he has to be a "ghost" so to speak, so i think he would target you yourself more often. and it would be little things, like whenever he sees you start talking to someone new, he'd leave little things around your apartment to remind you of him. maybe pictures you'd taken together, or small trinkets, anything to make you remember him and trigger you back into that spiral of missing him. BUT that being said, i think he would be very careful to ensure that you don't realize it's him leaving these things around, so he'd go through your apartment and look for stuff and would lay it out carefully to make you think that you just happened to leave it out.

i think over the course of his underground years, you start to realize that whatever you had with dazai was not healthy and how he acted with you was not healthy, and dazai does take note of this in his 💀 long hours observing you, which is why he’s so careful to keep up his new mask with you when he inevitably meets you again (read below).

OK now adazai

adazai is interesting. i went back and forth with this a lot, but i think adazai would really utilize his new job & demeanor as a tool to make you come back to him/fall for him again, especially if you’d started to put things together during the years he was gone. he frames his leaving it as how it was just something he had to do, look how much better he is now, he’s healed & hes good now, and he didn’t know what else to do because he knew his mental state wasn’t healthy back in the mafia. <- i think this would be important specifically because you would take note of how he acknowledges how incredibly possessive and weird he was with you, and in your mind, someone who acts like that probably wouldn’t see anything wrong with it, so the fact that he acknowledges it would be a green flag in your mind because maybe he has grown.

he also would probably hit you with a few guilt trips like he didn’t even know he meant enough to you to make you care about whether or not he was there. he’d be veryyyyyy sweet and honeyed with his apologies and pleas for forgiveness, and he’d be patient too. if you weren’t open to listening to him the first time you run into him, he’d orchestrate several other “run ins” over the next few weeks, whittle down your guard until he can finally claw his way back into your skin.

once that whole first stage of “winning you back” is over, dazai would quickly return to old habits although, however careful he was while in the pm to keep a good image in your eyes, he’s 100000x more careful now. because now it’s beyond just not letting you see the “demon prodigy”, he’s been advertising himself to you as a good, changed man and he has every intention of maintaining that image in your eyes. so yeah, he might be using access to cctv cameras to stalk your every move and yes, he’s slowly but surely driving everyone away from you, but in your eyes, he’s a detective who spends the saving people and that should never waver in anyway.

i think one notable difference is that adazai’s first big goal is going to be to drag you from the mafia, so while he is isolating you from people in the pm, i think he wouldn’t be so quick to isolate you from the members of the agency. in fact he would even encourage it to an extent - as long as they know their place 💀 - until he gets you to leave the pm, that is, then he might start to isolate you altogether again.

adazai likes to fashion himself as a bit of a savior to you i think. he saw how you spiraled without him, and came back to you, promising to never leave you again, apologizing for ever having have. gets in your head by making comments about how he didn’t even know you rlly cared about him like that.

^^ he’ll drag u from the dark shadow of the port mafia and tuck you right into his own shadow instead. and yeah, it might be just as dark, but at least he’ll be there to to make sure some light is peeking through cell bars of his “love”.

nowwww pmzai who never left the mafia.

i think i’ll keep this one short because imo i feel like this would just be canon pmzai without bothering to keep the whole front up in front of you. he doesn’t really care to hide his obsession over you - what are you going to do about it? run? he’s not going to let you do that, and he knows you don’t want to do that anyway. this pmzai is even more unstable than canon pmzai - i imagine he still lost oda, but then failed to even fulfill his last request by leaving the mafia and going to the light, so instead he focuses all of his energy onto the one person he has left: you.

forget missions. you’ll be lucky if he ever lets you leave the pm hq again. people die for looking at you the wrong way - whether it be pity, concern, or “envy” (because dazai is paranoid and thinks everyone is trying to stealing what’s his). sometimes you make comments about it to him, wanting to go on missions & talk to people again, and it triggers breakdowns in dazai that you can never tell if they’re real or fake - panic attacks over losing you like odasaku, begging you not to leave him too, etc. you don’t know if these are real, but he’s got you so tight around his finger already that the off chance that these aren’t manufactured to guilt you into dropping the subject is enough to make you give in.

[lilbitdepressed27]

Tara Carpenter/Fem!Reader

Summary: Cast Away AU. What if Tara was with someone when you returned

Warnings: angst but happy ending

WC: 2.8k

Author’s Note: requested by @blackwidowifey Hope you like it dude. Sorry for any mistakes

The flight home, your mom refused to let you out of your sight. To be home, back in your that had not changed had felt so surreal. A part of you was scared, scared that you'd wake from this dream and be back on that island. If that were to happen you weren't so sure you'd survive.

"You don't need anything sweetheart?" Your dad's voice brought you back to the present, you were still standing in front of the door of your room.

"No, I'm okay dad. Thank you."

Your dad couldn't begin to imagine what you went through for the past three years. Almost four. He knew you had changed. Not just physically but mentally as well. To see you like this. So confused, lost. It hurt him. He wanted to help you. But he just didn't know how.

You were told by your sister that things had changed quite a bit. From your friends and Tara no longer living in Woodsboro. To your family not being in contact with Tara for the past year.

"Riley?" You had entered your sisters room, who didn't even live here anymore. Another thing you missed that you were now an aunt. She had gotten married two months ago. To the man she had loved for so long.

And you missed it.

"Yeah? Everything okay?" Riley had never moved so fast to get home the moment her mom called to inform her that you had been found. Almost four years thinking her little sister was dead. The sob she had let out had alarmed her husband. Her husband. The man that you met, the man that held her when the cops told the family that your flight had crashed and there were no traces of the plane. The man that held her when the search party gave up after just two months of searching. The man that kept her going after your funeral.

The wedding she had, had been small. She had no bridesmaids, that spot had been reserved for you. You were her little sister but also her best friend.

"What made you stop talking to the Tara and the others?" It had only been a day since you returned back home. You were still extremely weak, bruised a little too easily, still had some sun burns but with the luxury of some aloe. Those were healing a lot faster.

"They moved a year after the search party was called off. They tried to stay here but it had been hard for them. Tara took your dea-disappearance hard. She wasn't the same. She was different, depressed, in denial. Sam moved her to New York permanently so she could heal and move on. After a year of them being there. Our connection kinda stopped. I didn't reach out and they didn't either."

You listened to everything she was saying. Almost four years of being gone. You knew that if you made it and came back. Things would be different. People would have moved on.

"Can I..can I see your phone." Riley handed you her phone. You opened instagram with one person in mind. Typing in her username. She hadn't posted in a quite a bit. But what she had were just some nature shots. So you moved on to the next person. Mindy. The first three picture being of the friend group with new faces. A average height man had his arm around Tara. A smile on her face as she smiled at the camera.

Your vision blurred with tears. The same feeling of loss grew. Tara, had have moved on. And you couldn't be upset about that. You had no right to be upset. Tara could wait forever.

She didn't need you anymore.

*

You now hated the smell of fish and coconut. You vowed on that island that if you ever got off it you would never touch fish or coconuts ever again. After your dad said he had a few things he had to do. You jumped at the opportunity to get out of the house. It had only been four days since you were back home. The past four days you had spent them in the house resting.

When he drove to the cemetery you knew what he was doing. Seeing your own tombstone was something you never really thought of. Seeing the rock was bone chilling.

Going to the store after that was the distraction you needed. Helping your dad with the grocery shopping, but the more you moved around the more tired you were starting to feel, you tried to ignore it. You went three and a half years moving around barefoot and half nude. A little walking around a store shouldn't bother you. Your dad saw that you were getting tired and was quick to gather the groceries.

*

Meeting your niece was as tear filled as could be. The guilt of missing everything, you and your sister had always talked about being there for one another. You knew it was out of your control. But you could have tried to leave the island a whole lot sooner than you did. Granted it did take you awhile to understand how the changes in the seasons affected the waves.

"Are you ready?" Your dad asked, he was already dressed in a business suit. You had been for a while the one to take over your dad's business when he retired. The original plan was to finish college and then take over. But with everything that happened you didn't know where to stand. You weren't sure if that was still the plan. Six days since being back home and you still felt so, lost.

"Do I have to go?" You were in a suit as well. Matching the one your dad had.

Your dad sighed softly going into your room to stand behind you. You were looking at yourself in the mirror. You were healing nicely and quickly. Your cheeks filling in with all the food your mom had cooked. No longer looking hollow. He couldn't imagine how hungry you had been.

"It's up to you buddy. If you're comfortable enough. We could go or we can stay here and watch some Harry Potter. You know they made a game about Hogwarts."

"Really?"

He chuckled at the excitement in your eyes. He will always see you as his little girl. The amount of times he cried alone in your room, holding the stuff Curious George bear that you had refused to throw away. He reached over and fixed your crooked tie.

He could ditch the business party. He was boss after all. What he says goes.

"You know what let's go to the store buy a ps5 and we will play the game together."

*

Being back home after a year of being gone was a bit rough. Being back for thanksgiving break to be with her mother. One thing she had yet to do was something that she hadn't done in a whole year.

"Hey you okay?" The feeling of heavy hairy arm being wrapped around her shoulder. Pulling her attention away from the direction of your house. She hadn't spoken to your family in a year. A part of her felt guilty for stopping. But her boyfriend who was friend at first, had said it would be for the best. He had said she'd never move on if she never did. And in a moment of weakness, she stopped.

"Yea Frankie I'm fine. I have to go somewhere. I'll be right back okay?" With quick kiss she left her house before he could say anything.

It had been a year since she last saw your tombstone.

*

Parking her car, and walking the rest of the way. Only for her body to freeze in place. Your tombstone was gone. The patch of dirt was still fresh. The flowers she had dropped. The same sinking feeling of losing you came back.

"Excuse me where's the tombstone that was here." The gardener who was taking out over grown weeds stopped what he was doing to look at the brunette.

"Uh I heard from one of the workers. They were moving and took their daughter with them. I'm sorry miss that's all I know."

Moving? She picked up the flowers and rushed to her car. She needed to get to your parents house. The drive there was fast. She may have ran a stop sign or two. Yes, she may have started dating now. Mindy had pushed her to say yes to Frankie. She knew Mindy wanted what was best for her. And she won't deny that she did have fun with Frankie. He was sweet, a bit of a douche but sweet nevertheless.

Her car screeched at the sudden break. The 'for sale' sign was front and present.

Why would they move?

*

Being in a new house was nice. There was a big pool and hug backyard. A week since you been rescued. Your new room was much bigger than the one you had before. You had been building the courage to call Tara. When you finally did call the call never went through meaning this number was no longer in service.

You didn't know how else to reach her. Just tell them you were okay. That you were alive. But the more you thought about it. Remembering the picture you saw, they looked so happy. Did you really want to crash back into their lives, by all off sudden coming back from the dead.

"Honey, I have to go to work. You okay-Can I go with you?" You asked before your dad could finish his sentence. With a smile he nodded. Not caring that you were dressed casually. He was just excited to see you back in the office with him. He remembers clearly how you used always follow him around the office. Remembering how his little girl always sat on his chair. You used to be so small, now you were taller than him.

Curse his own tall genes.

*

Being back in the office had been as overwhelming as you had expected. Everyone greeting you, everyone looking at you like they've seen a ghost. It was all so overwhelming. But what really had you overwhelmed, had you feeling like you couldn't breath was when you saw the familiar brunette. She had looked as beautiful as the last time you saw her. She was breathtaking, she looked more mature.

Without really thinking about it your feet moved on their own accord. Halting, when a man took her hand. You heart breaking no matter how much she wish it didn't at the sight of her smile. A smile directed at someone else.

~

Tara was back in the building after a year of not setting foot in it. Being back her felt odd. But Frankie had an interview here. And he wanted her to come with. When she left what was once your house. She didn't know what to do. She tried calling your mom, your dad, your sister but none of them answered their phones. So she hoped that being back in your father's building. She'd run into him. Ask him why he took down your tombstone.

She felt Frankie take her hand. A small smile she towards him before looking away. She needed to find your dad. She looked around the lobby only for eyes to snap back to where she saw…you? Expect it couldn’t be. The person she could have sworn was you was walking away now.

“Tara? Tara where are you going?”

Ignoring his voice as she basically ran to where you once stood. It couldn’t be you. You were..dead. Gone. Watching the back of this person grow closer as they both turned into a less crowded hall way.

Her hand reaching forward to grab this persons arm. The moment this person turned around it had felt like all the air in her lungs had been punched out of her body. Her eyes refusing to believe who was standing in front of her. Those y/ec eyes that she had missed so badly. You were as beautiful as the day she last saw you at that airport. Those eyes that were now filled with tears.

“Y/n?”

You didn’t know what to say. You wanted nothing more than to pull her into a tight hug. Just like you had imagined. But now you weren’t sure if you could. You didn’t know your place in her life anymore. You didn’t have to say anything at the end. She had basically thrown herself at you. Her arm wrapping around your neck as she hugged you tightly. Her cries being muffled as she cried into your neck.

You lived in the moment. Forgetting the man she was with as you hugged her back just as tight. Even if this would be for the last time.

“You’re alive. When-when did you get back? Why didn’t you call?” She pulled away to look up at you. You looked different, skinner.

“Last week. I uh was on deserted island. Been there for the past few years. I-I tried calling. Your number wasn’t the same.” You reluctantly pulled away. When you saw from behind Tara that same man walking towards you and Tara.

Tara was still trying wrap her mind around what was happening. Feeling like this was all a dream. The way you looked lost and heartbroken made her want to just cry and pull you into another hug. To hug you. Kiss you. Her hands refused to completely let you go. She was confused on why you were letting go. Her hold on your hands was tight.

“I’m so sorry Y/n. If I would known I-Everything okay here babe?”

The confusion was no longer there. Now she knew why. The you looked away, this time completely letting her go. She knew exactly what you were thinking. That she didn’t love you anymore, which completely wasn’t the case. Her own eyes filled with tears. The guilt she had growing. Ever since agreeing to going out with Frankie it had felt like she was being unfaithful. She knew it wasn’t cause at the time she didn’t know you were still alive.

Seeing the hurt and heart broken look on your face (that you were trying to hide) brought that guilt back in bigger than before. Your eyes finally hers. And she saw the acceptance, the forced smile. The tears you were trying to blink away.

“It’s okay Tara. It’s okay.” It was all you could say. Hoping your voice didn’t give away that you wanted nothing more than to cry. With a small nod. You dug into your pocket. Taking out the pocket watch. The watch you had refused to go anywhere with out. You turned around and walked away.

She watched you walk away before looking down at the scratched up pocket watch. Opening the watch. Seeing the familiar picture. Except now it was faded. The picture becoming blurry. All the memories flashing in her head. The love she had for you was still there. Still here. Had grown more and more even when she thought you were dead. She still loved you.

You. It always had been you.

No one else.

“Tara?”

Her eyes looked back at Frankie. “I’m sorry Frankie. I can’t do this.” It was all she said before she ran to catch up to you. She was not going to let you go. Not bothering to look back as she tried to find in the crowd that had quickly filled the lobby. She knew it was the lunch hour, she needed to find you.

She was quick to step on top of the receptionist desk. Ignoring her commands to get down. She scanned the room seeing your figure getting closer to the front doors.

“Y/N WAIT!!” She didn’t care that the voice echoed through out the big room. It grabbed your attention along with everyone else in the room. She jumped down the desk and the crowd quickly parted. You were on the other side. Eyes red from trying to hold in your tears. Quick to get to your side. Stopping directly in front of you.

“I love you. Only you. No one else.”

“But you looked hap-I could never be happy without you. I don’t love him.”

“Are you su-” You were cut off by the pair of lips you had dreamed of. The feeling of her lips on yours was like kissing her for the first time. Your arms wrapping around her body, bringing her closer.

You no longer felt the dreadful feeling of loss. No longer did you feel lost. You felt complete.

Whole once again.

:)

[paradlselost]

𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄

black noir x female reader

⎨ 𝐀𝐍 ⎬ this is set in SEASON FOUR so obvious spoilers ahead . this is just a drabble , i will post more about black noir in the future but i really needed to get a smut out for my own sanity 🙏 i need both earving and noir II . also that’s me under the table with him (:<

⎨ 𝐂𝐖 ⎬ second person point of view , mentions of mourning , straight up smut : p in v , unprotected sex , semi - public sex , zero pullout game .

How could he explain it to anyone who would happen to walk in? That it was a mistake? A heat-of-the-moment interaction? It certainly didn’t feel like an accident; the way you gripped his dick like it was a lifeline. Maybe in this moment it was, truthfully, it felt like the only thing keeping you grounded to this earth.

The once cool glass table below you rocked back and forth as if uncertain on the legs that held it up. At some point you would be worried it would break below your combined weight; but the mushroom-like head of his cock slamming back into a certain bundle of nerves drained every thought from your mind.

Visitation was extremely limited thanks to everything Homelander and Sage were doing, but a special exception had been made for you. Earvings closest friend, his unrequited love come to gather some semblance of closure from the new person under the mask. Wearing his suit as if years of unrelenting loyalty to Vought was dumbed down to him being a character any actor could play.

Maybe it was stupid to think otherwise, to hope there would be any kind of memorial for the man you had loved so dearly; how could everyone move on so fast from someone who had been there for so long? It wasn’t fair; but maybe his memory was better off out of your mind - out of pain and suffering and with his friends for eternity. Whatever eternity looked like.

New Noir may be a bit clueless when it comes to his role, but he’s not stupid. He could pick up on the way you avoided looking at his mask at first or how you apologized under your breath every time your hand brushed his armor. You were the best lead he had to figure out how to play this character he was thrown into. Not for a second did he believe his predecessor was only a brain dead maniac.

And he could be wrong, but he had a feeling his hunch of Earving loving you back was true. How could he not? You were gorgeous, head tilted back and jaw slack, knuckles turning white from your grip on the other side of the table. He didn’t remove his mask, only the cup that covered his crotch was off. He had to be acquainted with that area of the suit as boners against the covering hurt most of the time, and taking off the suit to get off in a bathroom stall was far too difficult.

Closure, what a funny word for what was happening. Maybe you could imagine it was Earving behind you, pounding against your cunt and creating those sweet wet sounds that vibrated through the room; but at this point nothing but the rhythm of his cock slipping in and out of you at such a pace could stay on your mind.

The cameras watched you two, no doubt, it was the meeting room after all. Your warm breath and the sweat that trickled down your form had created a slight fog against the once cool desk, a surface slippery enough to make him grab your hips to keep you in position. Hard, like he didn’t know his own strength, but you wouldn’t mind the bruises in the shape of his gloves, would you?

Cock-drunk, fucked stupid but still smart enough to feel the stutter of his hips and the throb of his dick inside of you. Fantasies of Earving often ended in him fucking his cum that leaked out of you back in, but you were suddenly acutely aware that this wasn’t him. You didn’t know if he was sterile; an important question you had accidentally skipped right over.

“Wait wait-“

Too little too late. Just as you had suppressed your eyes from rolling back into your head for the millionth time; he let out a groan. Grabbing your hips to stay impossibly close to you and pushing inside as far as possible, letting himself paint the walls of your cunt with his cum.

Panting, a gloved hand traveled from your hips to the very front of your thighs. His body pressed against you; keeping you on the table as he caught his breath - mindlessly playing with your clit, as if it was second nature. After a moment or two he seemed to realize what he did; you could hear him hiss softly from behind you, embarrassed.

“Oooh fuck - I’m sorry.”

[brokenpieces-72]

I READ “Reunion” AND OOOOOO

HOW WOULD THE BOYS REACT TO READER GETTING CAPTURED AND SOMETHING HAPPENING WITH HER PARENTS???? 👀👀

So admittedly this was going to be a future story. For some extra context, the reader's father I haven't decided whether he exists yet or not, but the mother is... admittedly also undecided in terms of what she is. When I started writing this I intended it to be a drabble and now it’s… yep. Enjoy!

Reset

Massive trigger warning!!! Abuse, kidnapping, torture, poor eating mentions, cannibalism, angst, let me know if I missed anything.

First and foremost you know they tried, all of them. You saw it before everything went dark. Johnny was screaming for you, ready to tear everything apart just to keep you safe. He didn't care who the bitch was, you were his sister. Konig already was tearing everything apart, only he didn't notice your situation until it was to late. The cadejos had nabbed some shadows to rip up with Alejandro and Horangi grabbing at more, trying to restrain themselves from just ripping into them. As you were taking off, Kyle went so far as to try and chase after you, but had his wings shot at, making you scream and fight to try and help him. Ghost had been too far away to try and grab at the heli. Price would have burned the whole thing down but you were inside, and not fire resistant.

Seconds after they'd lost you, Hunter got Kyle into the infirmary to fix his wings but they were still garbage. The entire team is anxious and worried about you. They'd all learned as much as they could about your relationship with your mother but could only imagine what she wanted from you now.

Simon wasted no time. He dragged thrall after thrall into interrogation, demanding answers of where they could be taking you. Being brutal and pissed he put any humans they were able to take alive in the room to show he wasn't playing around. If a thrall wasn't willing to talk, the human better be ready to scream and beg.

Price and Laswell and working around the clock to get everything they can on your mother from medical records, to bank statements. The two friends are keeping each other calm, as best as they can when they are as fired up as they are. Laswell has to step out of the room more than once because of Price releasing smoke to keep himself from getting too heated.

To the surprise of many, Horangi contacts KorTac. He's getting information on... well anything. While he keeps to himself, he can't deny your presence hasn't been welcoming. The team was up in arms, and the last thing he wanted was to sit around and do nothing while he waited for this to be fixed. KorTac can look into any jobs or contracts they may have gotten from Graves or your mother as a one off. Maybe someone gave up information thinking it was just an innocent missing persons report. Maybe your mother had tried contacting KorTac before Graves. Whatever he can get to make this go faster.

Alejandro and Rudolfo did the same, contacting other bases to see if they may have run into Graves or thralls recently. If they mapped out previous locations they could find a pattern. They even went back to facility where they'd first encountered your mother, seeing if there could be any signs of where she might have gone. Aside from that they had taken the initiative of running everything on base, giving the rest of the team more time to focus on you.

Kyle is pissed because he couldn't do anything to help. His wings were too damaged to fly anytime soon. All he could do was join Alejandro and Rudolfo on recon. He hated wasn't about to just sit, wait and heal. He wanted to help now. Alejandro and Rudolfo aren't about to stop him either.

Konig became restless, and the percht was practically beating against him. It wanted nothing but violence, blood and revenge. Konig just wanted his little friend back. You'd helped him even when there seemed to be no hope.

As for Johnny... it's something everyone gives him space for. Simon is one of the few who approaches him. He's restless and the full moon approaching makes it worse. All the wold wants to do is to find you, and Jonny wants the same. Sleep is near impossible, and he's started going to your room in order to do so. Your scent is still there, smelling like earth, grass and pine. If he isn't trying to find you, it's like he's trying to remember you. After 24 hours of you being gone Simon found him.

"Did you tell your mom?" He asked. Johnny looked up from where he was sitting on your bed. Simon was in the doorway looking at him, mask off for once. The question is one Johnny never wanted to think about. Telling his mother he'd lost her new baby. Johnny just stares down at his hands. Simon comes in and sits next to him on the bed, picking up a small plushie. The last thing Johnny needed was his pessimism. Simon didn’t have high hopes for you but he wasn’t going to give up on helping you. Johnny still hasn’t said anything so Simon took out his phone and offered it to Johnny.

“You need her too.” He said. Johnny took out his own phone, and dialed his mother. Simon stood up to leave but Johnny asked him to stay. He didn’t want to be alone for this.

The call goes well at first. It’s short-lived. As soon as Johnny told his mother you were taken Simon could hear her asking questions. Johnny answered as much as he could but regretfully most of the answers were “I don’t know”. By the end of it, he was fighting tears, with Simon putting a hand on his shoulder. Johnny’s mother asked Johnny how he was doing, and if he was okay. He was fine. He was going to find you. He promised. He hangs up and his breathing is unsteady. Simon didn't say anything or move to comfort him knowing a lot was going on underneath the surface. Johnny was honest enough to tell him if he needed it. There was silence for a while until Johnny took a deep breath.

"What kind of a shite brother am I?" He wondered aloud.

"One that will find his sister even if he has to do it barehanded," Simon answered. Johnny looked at him. Simon looked back and just gave him a nod.

For a while, you thought every moment you had experienced, every smile, every joy, every triumph, every bad day, every victory... you thought it had all been some mental episode of escapism. A dream your mind had put you in to save you from the torment of your mother. You don't know how much time has past, but it's been long enough for her to try and starve you and feed you more raw flesh. The more feral part of you is starving and ravenous. You want to eat so bad but you know Graves probably put something in it to make your feral state more powerful. You're chained to the wall with a collar and cuffs on your ankles and wrists. Waking up had sent you into a panic attack where you passed out. When you woke up again, the food was there, staring at you with vacant eyes. Dead bodies were not something new to you, but in this setting it just awoke you trauma. This wasn't the first time you'd fought your hunger. You turned away facing the wall, trying to hold your breath so you wouldn't smell the carcass. You held your nose when you needed another breath. Next you took the chains and wrapped them around your limbs to make them shorter. You knaw on your shirt to resist.

Then your mother came in. Your spine went frozen, your whole body tensed, and your held sped through the horrible moments her voice awoke. The way she talks is like burning sugar.

"Hello my little bunny." She said, soothingly. It's not soothing, she is not soothing, the only thing she would soothe was her own heinous actions. Little bunny was her name for you. You didn't know your own name because she would just give you pet names. All you want right now is to do the same thing you had done to innocent people who got lost in the woods. She'd set you on them, letting you hunt to the feral monster's content. "Come on, I want to see you. Can you look at me? I want to see how much you've grown. They took you away from me, my sweet girl."

No. They saved you. There had been missing person reports pointing to the woods you'd grown up in. A hunter came, properly armed to deal with hybrids, with some blurry photos capturing your image. He'd saved you with his hunting party. They'd found you feasting on an elk, starting to come back to your normal state. When you tried to flee, a hunter shot you, wounding you. You curled up on the ground they gave you a sedative. You were too small, and they weren't about to kill a kid who was probably just running on instincts. They saved you from your mother, continuing to search the woods.

Your mother moved closer, voice staying motherly and warm. "Please sweetheart? I'm sorry it had to be like this. I just wanted you back."

No more. You wouldn't give her anything. You didn't care what punishment she would give you. Whether it was burns or cuts you wouldn't give in. Your whole body shivered and tensed up as you felt her gentle hands on your shoulder and back, kneeling behind you. Your mother rubbed your back and shoulders, trying to coax your body to relax. When she tried to tug on your shoulders, to pry open your balled up position, you yank away.

"How did you get tangled up like that?" She asked noticing your efforts to keep you from the food. You don't look at her but you can hear her shuffling. There was a horrible wet sound as she moved back to you. You covered your nose, breathing through your teeth, as she tried to give you the meat. "Come on sweetie you need to eat. You want to be big and strong for mommy don't you."

You cowered, blindly swatting and pushing her away. In any other context her reaction would be that of a mother trying to keep her child from hitting her. You know it's a facade, the setting was evidence of that. "Now now bunny don't hit your mother."

"YOU'RE NOT MY MOTHER!!" You shrieked at her. The wendigo, the guardian state could be heard within your voice. Your mother stopped.

"B-but... l-little bunny-"

"I'm not your little bunny you fucking bitch! You are not my fucking mother! You are nothing but a psychopath who made me eat the closest thing I had to a friend! I'm not your daughter!" You yelled, not looking up at her, head covered by your legs.

"I know baby, I know, I am so sorr-"

"No! No you're not! If you were sorry you would stay behind bars! You would have moved on when you got out! You would have walked away knowing how much damage you did." You argued. There was no excuse for the crimes she had committed. Your mother didn't say anything for a while. You heard her toss the meat to the floor.

"Fine," she said, sounding like she was biting back heartbreak. "We can try again tomorrow. Please eat something though. I don't want you to starve."

"That's exactly what you want." You said, your voice overflowing with poison.

From then on, the routine continued, with a new body put in every other day or so. Your mother continued to coax you to eat, giving you kind and gentle praises. She's changed truly, she just wanted her cute little bunny girl back, her precious baby. Then she tried gaslighting you, burning and cutting your skin, only to hurry away to retrieve a first aid kit, acting like you'd come to her with a scraped knee. Oh dear did you scratch yourself too hard? Don't worry she'll fix it. Do you want mama to kiss it better? No? Then she'll get Mr. Graves to come in and talk to you about the mean things you did to his thralls. Maybe he can get you to eat something too. Open wide, here comes to airplane. Don't spit it out!

It goes on... and on... and on...

Your stomach churned. Food you need food... there's some right there. You don't smell anything wrong with it... no... no not again...

When Price found you... damn. You were back to your feral state but this seemed to be worse. Blood drunk, but hopefully not on Graves tainted shit. It had taken them some time, too much time to track you down. Right now Johnny and König were making for a good distraction tearing into the thralls in fully shifted forms, Johnny having the full moon on his side. Kyle, now fully healed and flying again was keeping overwatch dive bombing anyone who might try to take up a sniper position. Rudolfo had the cadejos tracking your scent. Horangi was keeping Hunter safe, using the clouds for their cover. Simon was moving through the bunker looking for two other people, Graves and your mother, shadows keeping him from being noticed. Of course he also yanked a few thrall into them, as they tried to make it out to Soap and Konig.

"Captain, what's your status?" Alejandro asked through comms.

"I found the target." Price said. "Soap keep on the thrall. Lieutenant, what's your location?"

"South Hallway." Ghost replied, voice quiet.

"Have you located the other targets?" He asked, holstering his gun slowly approaching. Your blank white eyes looked up at him, and you launched yourself at him. Your chains snapped taut, making you fall back. Shit. You were still yanking and pulling on your chains to try and reach the fresh food that had stepped into your cell.

"Not yet. Wait, the cadejos may have found something." Simon replied. Before Price could get Simon's help, Alejandro came up beside him. He stepped back when you tried to lunge at him next.

"Fucking hell." He said under his breath.

"Horangi, get Hunter to our location, east side, second floor." Price said.

"Copy." Hunter said.

"She needs to be restrained." Price said. They needed to wait for Hunter, but until then you needed to be pinned down. Alejandro understood shifting to the jaguar form and stalking in. The meat was coming closer. You shrieked, getting on all fours, watching him closely. The meat kept his eyes locked with yours. It's growling, it won't let you eat without a fight. You screech back at the meat, encouraging some play before you feasr. Your body tightens in a crouch as you move back a little, readying yourself. You strike, but you can't. A huge weight is put on your back and you thrash around. Your arms are pinned behind you. No! You're hungry! You have fresh food right in front of you! Price wasn't about to let you enjoy Las Almas cuisine. Alejandro backed away the moment Price put his full weight on top of you. Hunter arrived a few minutes later, and Horangi stayed close. One sedative wasn't enough. Two wasn't enough. They gave it time, ut you weren't relaxing fast enough. One more. The world slowly goes dark. Hungry... you're still hungry.

You're released from the chains, but bound in them again. Simon acquired a blanket after trying to pursue your mother. He had a feeling he knew what Graves was actually doing and what was going on with your mother but he could wait. You're the priority. Your unconscious body was rolled up in the blanket, with the chains wrapped around to keep you restrained if you woke up. Johnny was demanding updates to your status, still outside with König, waiting on orders. Price ordered them to head to evac, and they had the target restrained. Johnny didn't like that answer but doesn't argue.

When he finally saw you, Gaz made sure to be in between you and Johnny. Johnny got out of the chopper and came over, back to his human state, clothes destroyed. Price wasn't about to deny his sergeant, even when he wasn't shifted. Johnny took you from Price and held you tight. The look on his face was focused as he got back in the heli, and the whole ride back he said nothing. Hunter got to work immediately giving orders for the medics on base to be ready. As soon as you woke up you would be hungry again. despite this Johnny just kept you close, as if you didn't show signs of being feral, or wouldn't try to dig into his flesh as soon as you woke up.

The healing process takes time. You're kept under for a very long time. Hunter had to get a feeding tube so you would return to normal. Your wounds are cleaned thoroughly, and you're put in a safe place. The team visited and stayed with you in shifts. The feeding tube was not a tested method for you yet, and Hunter was concerned about over feeding you, thinking it may cause you to vomit or get sick.

As expected Johnny had to be pried from your side more than once. Ghost did it to spar with him, knowing Johnny had plenty of aggression built up, and he could take the hits. The last thing he wanted was for a punching bag to receive that kind of treatment. Once you had been put under observation, Johnny called your mother. Your real mother. She'd relieved to hear you are okay, and asked Johnny if you would be able to stay with her for a bit to help you recover. Johnny would talk to Laswell about it later, you needed to wake up first.

When you finally wake up they’d already taken out the feeding tube, your state much more relaxed. You wake to see Johnny had fallen asleep in the chair next to you, his head rested on the bed. You sort of squirmed down further under the blanket to press your forehead to his. There are silent tears down your cheeks, as you feel a great sense of relief. Johnny woke up and pulled away to look at you. He wanted to pull you close to him, but he didn’t want to overstep. You sat up and he held your face in his hands, pressing your foreheads together again.

“You came to get me.” You said.

“Made a promise. Wouldn't go into the dark unless I 'ad to pull ya out.” Johnny said. You threw your arms around him and he gently returned the gesture. It was perfect. It was safe. You had your family back, and to make it better they had come for you.

The next while isn’t fun. Well a few times you enjoy yourself, but it’s mostly filled with recovering and exhaustion. Your mental state was damaged, your body was sore, and your hunger was difficult, as you were craving food but couldn't eat as much as you wanted without getting sick. Hunter does an amazing job of helping your body heal. While you do have a healing factor, the wounds weren't healing as much as they should. Your team's medic sits with you when you eat, keeping the portions smaller than you'd usually take, but they gave you snacks to sustain your stomach in between meals. Once you were out of the infirmary Price granted you a week off. Johnny was still in the process of getting you a month or so away from base.

For the most part, you became Johnny's shadow, if he wasn't yours. Part of it is because the wolf is now more protective over you, and well Johnny is too. He'd told you about getting time off and honestly it would be really nice to have it. Outside of that, you found yourself snuggling up with him. Johnny had done a good job at sleeping in his own bed since your return. Now though, you'd taken to curling up with him at night. He didn’t mind, finding your presence comforting. Seeing you asleep in his arms brought him peace.

Johnny still has tasks to do on base though so he can't be by your side 24/7. You go to the others on the team who don't mind having you nearby. You did a little where you could, like retrieving items or doing prep work. Sleeping and lazying around wasn't your thing. Hunter let you help them with prepping the medical supplies and take inventory as usual. The rest of the team either made something up or just let you observe.

König had taken to standing in when Johnny was too busy. He was relieved to have you back. At one point you had a panic attack, accidentally knocking over a bowl had created a loud noise. Before anyone could step in König had you in a tight hug, talking to you. He ran you through the process of naming things in the room you see, smell, hear, touch and taste. Panic attacks were a first hand experience for him, having his own social anxiety. While he didn't know what exactly happened when you were in captivity, he wasn't about to let you suffer through the small triggers by yourself.

If neither Konig nor Johnny was shaodwing you, Simon was quite literally shadowing you. In that he would peek in on you through your shadow just to be sure you were okay. He doesn’t hesitate to talk to about what happened. Abuse is something he will never forgive. Simon for the most part though would stay out of the way. You deserved some privacy, and a chance to heal on your own. Until another soldier was a little too clumsy and made a mess of the ammo bins. The crash is loud and you jump back, as the other soldiers raise their voices to hound him. Bloody idiots, keep yelling when there’s a startled kid! You back into the nearest corner and start to breathe heavy. Your ears ring, and Simon found you. He goes through the piles of ammo cartridges and suddenly the argument is muffled, and there’s only ringing. Until Simon’s voice broke through, and you looked up at him. You see you’re surrounded by darkness but Simon looked normal. His mask was on, but his focus was on you. Just take a minute. You needed it. This happened again, but only when you doing really bad.

Kyle hasn't stopped spending time with you, and if you're struggling to get up to the roof you guys like to sit on, he'll help you up. The wings are always around you, which can really help. It makes you feel like you're alone with Kyle, even if there are soldiers down below running drills or moving supplies around. You don't talk as much, but Kyle talks a bit more to fill the silence. Sometimes you guys don't talk at all. That's fine. Yeah, you could lean on him if you want. He wasn't going anywhere right now.

The cadejos paid you a visit in your room one day, and they had... a ball? Rudolfo poked his head in and asked if you wanted to play some fetch for the dog spirits. You didn't think they played fetch but you don't say no. You follow them outside and throw the ball for them. The white spirit comes back like a golden retriever each time, front paws tapping away, tail whipping about, tongue lulling with happy pants, all while waiting for you to throw the ball. The darker spirit is a little less trained. When it caught the ball it sped back to you causing you to flinch. Rudy got his hands on your shoulders pulling you back, reminding the black cadejo to be gentle. Your body tenses but when Rudolfo checks in you tell him you're okay. Just startled a little.

You went to Alejandro and Horangi directly, asking if they could show you some better self defense techniques. You could fight, but you wanted to be better prepared if someone grabbed you again. Alejandro is hesitant because the last thing he wants is for you to have a panic attack in the middle of it. Horangi however is all for it. Knowing that stuff had saved his own ass more than once when he was building up debts. Why shouldn't you be able to drop captors like a sack of potatoes? Small bonus, he could make Alejandro be the one that got dropped on his back a few times. Throughout the demonstrations, they do check in after check in. He was going to grab your wrists next okay? Alright, then he would whip you around, yep don't let him turn you around. Still good? Perfect.

Soon it was your last day off, and tomorrow you would be on leave with Johnny. It would be nice to see Scotland again. You wandered into the rec room where you saw Price on the couch. The tv was on likely watching the game. You sat down next to him, a blanket around you, and he gave you a smile.

“Are they winning?” You asked.

“Not who I’d like.” He admitted. You played on your phone for a bit and then started to nod off. Everything felt so much better. You were safe. No one could hurt you with your pack nearby. Price didn’t pay much mind, until he felt the couch move. When he looked over, he saw you trembling. Fuck. He got off the couch and knelt down in front of you, shaking you awake.

“Come on kid, it’s not real. It’s not real!”

“NO!” You cried out, waking up and found Price looking at you, shaking you awake. Tears ran down your face. Nightmares were becoming more frequent again. All because that witch decided to force herself into your life again.

“You broken?” He asked. You gave him a hesitant nod. “Okay.”

Without asking he picked you up giving a playful roar. It surprised you, but you couldn’t help but laugh. He sat back on the couch, reclining so you could rest against his chest. You never noticed how warm he was. His wing wrapped around you unconsciously as he went back to the game.

“I’m sorry-“

“Don’t say sorry. You can’t control it.” He said. You continued watching the game until he turned it over to a show he saw you watching earlier in the week. Slowly you fell asleep again. Price found himself subconsciously stoking your ears as you relaxed into him. Before Price didn’t know what to make of you. Right now, he was worried about you. At first you were a requirement, something he was obligated to take on. Then you proved yourself, showing value to the team in more ways than one. Now… you were part of his hoard. You were a treasure worth protecting. His team had been doing better, and much better now that you were back.

“John I hav-“ Laswell walked in and looked up to see a scowling Price, shushing her.

“Just fell back asleep.” He said voice very low. Laswell raised a brow with a small smile. You shifted a bit and Price hushed you, not wanting you to wake up. Even Kate can’t deny you’d exceeded her expectations. When she first met you were about a terrifying as… well as a rabbit with antlers. You’d grown so much.

“You ever expect this to be a scenario we find ourselves in?” Price asked her.

“No. The time off has been approved… but there’s an issue.” Laswell said. Price looked up. “Colonel Vargas has offered an alternative.”

“What does that mean?” Price asked.

“The program still has some authority, and with what’s been going on with the mother and the kidnapping they think sending her back with Johnny might put her at risk.” Laswell explained.

“…Alejandro has offered to take them in instead?” Price asked.

“I’m trying to convince the program to let Johnny go with her. They’re proving difficult.” Laswell said.

“But she’ll be safe?” Price asked. Laswell nodded. Price got up, carrying you with him. “Taking her to bed.”

Price took you to your room where he saw your things ready and packed. He set you down on the bed, and you shifted, rolling to your side. You would be safe. He knew that. He trusted the colonel, he was just worried about you. You’d only been back for a short while. Hopefully Johnny would be understanding.

@yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666

[livingformintyoongi]

When The Lights Go Out | Min Yoongi

a/n: I wanted so badly to write something horror and this idea popped into my head and I needed to post it :( my initial idea had been to make it an interactive story, but I'm still not sure whether to do that or not.

summary: Your boss -with whom you had been working for more than seven years- had given you the job of going to check out one of his most recent projects, a large house on the outskirts of a rather quiet town that was quite far from the city.

It wasn't until you spent the first week staying at the house that you realized something important. From dead animals, to the shadow of a badly wounded young woman screaming at your window in the early morning hours, every single thing that happened during your stay there was screaming at you to leave, warning you about what your future would be.

It had taken you a long time to realize that, much to your disgrace, you had no escape. You were trapped in that place, and it was no longer just your job that was at stake, after all, how could you work when you were dead?

warnings: the respective warnings of each chapter will be added as appropriate. They may touch on sensitive topics, so please read them carefully.

wc: ???

taglist: @thunderg @minjianhyung @queenv1997 @yoongtism @lizzymizzy-blogg @superbbananananana @drpepperobsessed @themwordsblog @taekritimin123 @bluecloudss

You checked the clock on your phone screen for the third time. It was barely six o'clock in the evening and the sky was already beginning to darken. You weren't sure if it was because of the time or simply because of the lack of streetlights in the neighborhood, if that's what you could call it. The last house you had seen you had passed about ten minutes ago by car.

You let a sigh escape your lips, feeling a little calmer as you watched a large house grow larger and larger. It had taken you almost eight hours to get from your apartment to here, your feet felt cramped and your eyes felt heavy.

Soon after you left your car parked near the entrance. You got out of the car, making sure to lock the doors. You couldn't help but grimace at how terribly disastrous the state of the house was, not even a rat could live in such a neglected place. Or maybe it could, you weren't too sure about the lifestyle of rats.

You took a quick look around. On your right hand side was a lush forest that, to the naked eye, seemed to extend much further than you could imagine. You made a mental note just then, dead before you entered that forest, your sense of direction was too poor to be able to get out of there. On the other side, a little further from the manor house was another kind of hut; this one was a little smaller than the one in front of you, but it still seemed to have enough space to house a family of at least four people. Due to the darkness you could not distinguish much more clearly the state of that hut, but what you were absolutely sure of was that there were people living in it. You could see the lights coming from one of the second floor windows.

Before entering the house, you caught a glimpse out of the corner of your eye of a man coming out of the cabin. You weren't a hundred percent sure, but you could have sworn he turned to look at you once outside.

You had spent the last forty-seven minutes tidying up some of your things and doing a complete check of the house. To your great surprise, the lights were still working, something that eased the burden of the work you would have had to do if the power lines were out. First you checked the master bedroom, the one you would be staying in for the next days. The bed seemed to be in pretty good condition, even the sheets seemed to have been in a state that was too spotless. You thought maybe it was because the former owners were still in charge of keeping the rooms in a livable state.

The second place you checked was the kitchen. Everything seemed to be in its place, there were even services in the drawers and some pots and pans in the cupboards below. The refrigerator contained no food, in fact, it was almost like new. You made sure to check the functionality of the furniture and some of the appliances that were still here. Luckily for you, they were still in perfect working order.

You walked around the first floor a few times, listening for the sound of wood creaking against your footsteps. It was only until you reached the end of the hallway that you noticed the house had a basement. You hated basements more than anything. But you weren't here to be whimsical, you were here for work. That said, you walked over to the door and grabbed the handle. You were ready to turn it but, just as your wrist began to twitch, knocking on the front door made you stop in your tracks. Who could it be?

With a frown you walked straight to the door, feeling a slight pressure in your chest and a sense of dizziness that prevented you from breathing normally. Why were you so frightened by the simple knock on a door? Well, admittedly, you were in the middle of nowhere, the nearest civilization was a ten minute drive away and you were staying in a house that's next to a forest that's not exactly what you'd call something appealing to the eye. Yeah, come to think of it, you had a lot of reasons to feel unsafe in this place.

The door had no peephole, so you could only open the door to see who was on the other side. You hesitated for a few seconds, but ended up opening it. On the other side of the door stood a woman and a man; the woman seemed to be around your age, she was much shorter than you, she was wearing a lilac-colored vest and had a huge cake in her hands. Next to her was the man, he didn't seem to be much older than you, but he had an expression bitter enough to add a few extra years to it. He was wearing a black colored jacket, kept both hands in the pockets of it and, quite unlike his companion, there was no glimpse of a smile on his face.

"Hi!" greeted the girl cheerfully, giving you a too big smile. For a second you wondered if her cheeks hurt from doing so, "I'm Chaewoon, Yoongi" she pointed at the guy next to her, not taking her eyes off you, "told me you had arrived a while ago and I couldn't help but think that you'd probably feel a little dazed by all the change, I mean, you can tell you're coming from the city" she pointed at your car, letting out a soft laugh before continuing, "I thought maybe it would make you feel a little more comfortable if you knew your only neighbors. It's necessary to have communication between us, you know, the nearest town is a bit far, it would be much better if we were here to help each other!".

"Chaewoon, you're making her dazed by talking so much" muttered the man who, from what you remembered, was called Yoongi. Chaewoon frowned at him and stomped his foot in annoyance, "Hey! What's wrong with you?".

"Shut your mouth, there are people trying to be nice around here" she snorted, turning her full attention back to you. "So… what do you think?" she smiled kindly, spreading the cake in front of your face.

You grimaced, glancing inside the house, only to turn your attention back to the two people standing in your doorway. It was true that you didn't feel very comfortable being in this house all alone, but the idea of having two strangers inside didn't quite suit you either.

"Well?" the girl insisted after a few seconds, cocking her head slightly.

You bit the inside of your lip, unsure of what to say to her. She looked so excited with the cake in her hands. You looked up, still looking just as unsure as you did. "I..."

Masterlist.

[apomaro-mellow]

Demon Eddie is based. But did we think to incorporate priest Steve ?

OOOOOOOHHHH

Steve was on his knees, prayers muttered under his breath. He kept his eyes closed. If he didn't seem him, then it didn't exist.

"I don't go away just because you ignore me~"

It was right into his ear but Steve had learned not to flinch. If anyone had learned he was being haunted by an actual demon-he'd never seen an exorcism up close but they didn't sound fun. This apparition had appeared to him suddenly one night. Steve had awakened in a sweat, body warm yet unsatisfied with just the whisps of a dream when he saw red eyes in the dark.

"What delicious desperation..."

Steve had started to tell his elder that a demon walked among them but quickly found that he was the only one who could see and hear it. This evil meant to consume him personally and he wouldn't let that happen. It had been triggered by a moment of weakness. By thoughts of depravity.

So he prayed harder. If he proved his faith, he would honor his Heavenly Father.

"If it's a daddy you want-"

"Leave me alone!", Steve hissed. Thankfully he was alone at the altar right now but people came and go. He didn't want to appear a lunatic or worse, marked by the devil. He got up and walked out, seeking sunshine. It seemed cruel that his demon would also enjoy bright sunny days, basking in the bench next to him.

Steve didn't have to guess how his devil was made. It was unfortunately very clear to him. He had been tasked with taking over Father Brown's duties while he had been under the weather, which included sharing the good word with the inmates of the local prison. He thought he'd been unaffected by the lewd catcalls thrown his way and the prying eyes, but apparently not.

The men had all looked different but there was something about their intensity that had intrigued him. Steve had only gone once he found it hard to forget their features. It only made sense that his demon would be an amalgamation of them all. Dark, curly hair that was too long for a man nowadays, an attractive nose, deep brown eyes when they weren't glowing red in the dark.

Steve might've been able to appreciate his handsomeness in a completely normal way. But the curved horns and pointed tail showed what he really was. That and the visions that haunted him at night revealed the demon's true intentions.

Every night was the same. He'd wake up with a start at the first rays of light, left with just the ghost of sensations and the vague memory of the dream. Hands adorned with rings, touching him in ways no one ever had. A voice, a familiar once now, whispering sweet nothings.

Sometimes Steve wished he remembered what he said. But then he reasoned that not remembering was a blessing that he shouldn't take for granted. He was still being shielded by the Lord's light, even if a tiny sliver of darkness got through. It was Steve's fault, it had to be.

He worked with children sometimes and it was a little amusing how most of them imagined a literal fistfight with the devil. How could he tell them that the devil didn't attack that way? That it all came down to mental fortitude?

His demon never left him, even at night as he settled in for bed. Oddly enough, he was courteous enough to give Steve privacy as he dressed down. Perhaps because he's already seen everything Steve had to offer. But he never put laid a hand on him, at least not while in the waking world. He laid his head down, rosary clutched tight in his hand.

Tonight would be the night. This time he would overcome his impure impulses. He'd dream of something else, he'd be sure of it. This demon would bother him no more.

"You can just call me Eddie, sweetheart. That suits me just fine. Sweet dreams."

Steve rolled his eyes but kept them on him as he sat in a chair at the edge of the bed. He never imagined it would have a name but he didn't care. This demon, this Eddie, would be gone before morning.

When instead, he awakened, a moan on his lips that sounded suspiciously like a name, well that was just another secret he would keep to himself.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hey, like your story. Can you do a story about the reader is a gardener in the mansion. Donna has been observing her for years and has developed a romantic feelings for her. Inorder to get her closed and win her love, she promoted her to be her maid, an excuse to get close to her. The reader is oblivious and thinks that her mistress is being really kind to her so in turn she gave her, her loyalty. Donna is upset that she doesn't get the idea so she started to flirt with her. The reader felt uncomfortable and one time she asked her mistress on why she's acting this way. Donna got embarrassed then confessed her feelings to the reader then kisses her. Reader is surprised and kisses back, then she told her that she feels the same way. Donna wanted to know when she started to develop feelings for her, READER said it's when she was promoted to being a maid. After that they started their relationship and lived with each other happily. Reader still continues to work at the mansion but Donna helps her around the house as an excuse to spend some time with her.

Yess!!! Here it is!!! Thank you for your request, I hope you like it (And I hope you don't mind I wrote it with Donna's POV, I thought it was interesting) Sorry about the language mistakes :)))

I need you to love me

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Gardener! Reader

Warnings: Fluff, mental health issues, slightly dark themes, Donna’s POV, Donna being Donna, insecurities

Word count: 5,946

Summary:  I didn’t believe in love, but your smile made me think otherwise

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

My steps were slow, but determined, my breathing was still normal, I could control it. I don't know when I got used to leaving the house every afternoon. As I walked around the grounds, I couldn't stop smiling. I was shaking, not because of the cold, but because of the excitement of reaching that place, of stopping imagining you and being able to see you.

I have been serving Mother Miranda for so many years that to remember my life before that was difficult for me. I guess that's because I've always been like that, with, or without Cadou. Nothing had changed. Nothing had made me stop seeing my house as a safe place, and solitude as my most faithful ally.

Maybe getting rid of Josef was a bad idea, or maybe it was the best idea ever. I couldn't say it. I just wanted to know if I was as powerful as my siblings said. But fate is capricious and the lack of a gardener was a problem for my experiments. At least that's what I used to say to calm myself down. It was better not to think of flowers as a silent company, it was better not to think that their colors, their smells, were the only thing that prevented me from seeing everything gray.

I shouldn't care, I didn't have to care. I’m a Lord, I’m the story that a mother tells her child to make it fall asleep. I’m the terror that waits in the darkness, I’m... I’m a monster.

But even a horrible monster like me needed some help. I didn't want an army of maids, or a test subject. I was always quite simple. Power was never one of my ambitions, at least until I met you.

(Y/N), that was your name. You came of your own, without being afraid of what I could do. I know you knew it. I know you knew what happened to the poor unfortunate souls who dared to disturb my solitude. You knew it, but you came, sure of yourself, saying you had something that I needed, that I wanted.

No human being had anything I wanted, you should have known, (Y/N).

You said you knew how to take care of flowers, you knew how to make the garden shine. Did you want to be like Josef? Poor and innocent (Y/N), you just didn't know how he ended up.

No, you didn't know, or you didn't care.

I fought with all my might to be rational, to not take out all my frustrations on you. If you only knew the pleasure that to see you in my mind, rushing down the waterfall, gave me. Surely you would have fled, you would never have returned.

I would have liked to tell you that I didn't need you but... For some reason, I started to think otherwise. Your ability was quite curious, as was your appearance. Curiosity was the only word that came to my mind when I was looking at you.

Over time, I became fond of getting closer to where you were. I was looking for an excuse, a reason to make you disappear. I wanted my solitude, I wanted it back. I didn't need to see your stupid smile, even if I was the one who started looking for it.

But joy is a contagious emotion. You smiled at me, and I smiled back. You couldn't see me, but I saw you, I couldn't stop seeing you. Day, night, summer, winter…

Time passed and your smile didn't disappear, neither did mine. What was happening to me? Why after so many years I had a reason to smile? I tried to ignore it, really, (Y/N), I tried.

I tried to ignore the fact that my mind stopped tormenting me for a few moments, just to draw your smile, your beauty.

Love is an artificial construction, an invention of human beings to have something to fight for. I used to think that way. I used to think love wasn't real, that it was just a trick of the subconscious and that it confused people to make them believe that their loved one had something they needed.

Eat, drink, sleep... Those were the true needs of a human being. Loving was not necessary, you could not die for lack of love. I was sure of that, until I met you.

Tachycardia, discomfort, confused mind... It seemed like an illness, a serious one. Every time I saw you, my soul seemed to want to leave my body. Was it love?

I looked for a remedy. I swear I looked for a remedy to make that tremor, to make that pain disappear. None of the plants you cared for were of any use to me. Only you managed to appease my spirit. I wish I could have avoided it, I wish, after so many years my heart would stop beating so hard when I look at you.

All the times I think about you, the times I dream that you hug me at night, the feeling of imagining your gaze very close to mine, your lips very close to mine, so close that they almost seemed to collide… Oh, Gods, I wanted them to collide. Why, when my mind abandoned its sanity, I could only sob your name? I didn't need you. I didn't need your arms surrounding my body. I didn't need your voice calming my demons. I didn't need it, you didn't have something my body craved. You didn't have it.

“Oh, wow, hi, Donna,” you said, scared when you saw me behind you. I couldn't tell how long I had been staring at you, lost in thought.

“Hello,” I said, clearing my throat, noticing that cold sweat running down my forehead. At least you couldn't look at me. You couldn't see my stupid smile.

You stood up from the ground, shaking the dirt off your hands. My presence should be disturbing to you, you should fear my presence.

“Look, I've taken care of all those weeds,” you told me, pointing to a pile of plants in the corner.

You always do it. You always make the bad things disappear. You always make the thorns not eclipse the beauty of a rose, could you do the same with me? Could you be able to take away my darkness? To tear it from my body like those weeds?

“Good job,” I said quietly. Normally a random girl like you wouldn't have the right to hear my voice, you should consider yourself privileged, (Y/N), or at least realize that it means you're important to me. Are you?

“Ugh, it's been a crazy day,” you sighed, taking off your gloves and leaving them on a pile of firewood. You're not even terrified of turning your back on me. Don't you know how dangerous I am? “I have taken care of the gardenias, apparently they were sick with aphids, and when I thought it couldn't get worse, it turns out that...”

I wasn't listening to you, (Y/N), I didn't care about gardenias. I couldn't do anything but get lost in your voice, to study each of your movements to remember them when the nightmares torment me, to be able to see your hand reaching out to me to take me out of hell.

“But hey, it doesn't matter, how about you?” You asked, like every day.

What did you want me to tell you? Did you want to know I spent the day thinking about you? You wouldn't want to hear that.

I shrugged. You should be used to it.

“Wait, where’s Angie?” You asked, looking around for any sign of my doll.

At what point did I forget about Angie?

I couldn't live without that doll. I needed to feel that I was protected in some way, that Angie would come to my aid if the words refused to come out of my mouth. I needed her, but I forgot about her. Your smile made me forget about Angie. I hope you were proud.

“She's at home,” I said in a low voice, wiping the sweat from my hands on my dress. If you thought I would tell you that I forgot about her because I wanted to be with you, you could sit and wait, (Y/N).

“I see. This cold is even unbearable for her, right?” You joked, with a polite smile. Are you questioning me? No I don’t think so. “Would you like some tea?”

Before she could say anything, my body moved on its own, making me nod slowly. Your smile graced your face again, pleased by my silent response.

“Sorry about the mess,” you said nervously, removing a pile of junk from the table before elegantly offering me a chair. Oh, right, I forgot that I was your lady, a Lord, a dangerous one.

I sat slowly, looking at the old cabin. I asked myself in which corner you would spend the time when I was not with you. Did you like to read? What did you occupy your thoughts when the flowers were already taken care of? I wanted to know so many things... And at the same time I wished I didn't want to know them. I didn't want more reasons, more imaginary scenarios in my head.

“Here, it's hot,” you said kindly, placing a small cup in front of me. I recognized that cup. Josef also used to offer me some tea. Thinking that you could end up like him didn't sound so fun anymore, it stopped doing a long time ago.

I shook my head to thank you while you searched the small kitchen for something. It looked like a tray.

“Look, I made cookies. Well, I tried to,” you commented amused, showing me that kind of strange, deformed things. “They look horrible, but I promise you they are good.”

Oh, I understood instantly, did you want to poison me?

“I didn't know you cooked,” I whispered, taking one of those cookies and observing it, looking for the trace of the poison you had put in them. You were an idiot, (Y/N), you couldn't fool me.

“Well, saying that I cook is perhaps exaggerating…. I survive,” you joked again, sitting in front of me and eating one of those... Things.

Assuring you that you didn't want to kill me, I bit into one. Vanilla, did you like vanilla?

“You haven't sifted the flour,” I said, crumbling the rest to check its texture, still suspicious. It was nothing personal, (Y/N). I couldn't trust anyone, not even you.

“Sorry, sif... What?” You asked curious. Great, now I had to explain something as basic as that to you.

“The flour must be sifted, (Y/N). If not, it clumps together and spoils the dough,” I explained, with your eyes looking at me attentively. Sometimes I could feel them piercing my veil, could they really do that?

“Oh really? Wait, I'll write it down,” you said hastily, taking notes in a small notebook.

Not knowing what I was looking at gave me an advantage, I could know what you had written. I could see what your handwriting was like. Just as I thought, a disaster.

“Sift the flour... Okay,” you said satisfied, leaving the pen on the table and looking at me embarrassed. As time went by I began to understand your looks, you still hid so many secrets from me. I wanted to know them all.

“You don't know how to do it, do you?” I asked, smiling involuntarily again.

“I have no idea,” you said, hiding your blush behind the cup of tea.

“Do you have a strainer?” I asked getting up from the chair, passing by you. I didn't need to explain it to you, that cabin was still mine. Everything was mine, even you, even if you didn't know it.

“I think, I think so,” you stammered, searching through the drawers of the old kitchen. “This?”

I nodded, taking the metal object and a small bowl that was nearby.

“Wait,” you said, putting a hand on my shoulder when I was about to add the flour. I was doing you a favor and you were protesting. I didn't understand you. I didn't understand why I even bothered to help you. Maybe if I was useful to you maybe you could... Love me? I think I was rambling.

From a nearby hook, you grabbed an apron, and without even asking me, fastened it around my waist. I couldn't describe the feeling I felt when you were so close, when your hands surrounded my waist without touching it. I started to think you were torture. You came closer and I couldn't touch you.

I wanted to scream, to grab your hands so you could hug me. I had to fight with that stupid impulse.

“That way you don't get stained,” you said, with your hands on your hips. You must have seen something strange in my body, maybe you noticed my heavy breathing, maybe my heart was beating so hard that even you could hear it. “Well, you know… The flour is white, your dress is black and…”

I nodded so you would stop babbling, staring at me. Please stop looking at me... Wanting to forget the air that moved your body was so close to mine, I began to manipulate the flour under your attentive gaze. You even seemed innocent, it seemed like you weren't breaking my heart without even realizing it.

“Okay...” You said nodding, approaching me again. “It seems easy.”

“It's easy, (Y/N),” I said, shaking the flour from my hands. Sometimes I believed that fate was against me. That white powder reached your face, making you close your eyes and take a deep breath.

“Achoo!” You sneezed, raising a white cloud around us. “Oh, wow, I…”

Your look was worried, but it wasn't hard to see the amusement in your eyes. Naturally, my entire body was covered in flour. I knew you were laughing at me, but in such a shameless way. Embarrassed and confused, I brushed off what I could of my dress. I should have gotten angry, punished you, but I didn't, I just stared at you, I wanted... I wanted to know what your laugh sounded like.

“I'm sorry,” you said, lowering your head and gently patting my dress. “I have made a mess on your dress.”

That damn white powder got through the little holes in my veil, making me cough too. Maybe it wasn't an accident. Maybe that was your intention.

Wanting to be free of that discomfort, I moved the black cloth away from my face. Your smile, your presence made me forget about something as important as Angie, and also, also my wish to you never be able to see my face. That was the last thing I wanted. You would never love me if you saw how I look. Never, never, never…

When I realized that the black cloth was in my hands, my entire body tensed. I was about to panic. I noticed how my sanity was slipping through my fingers, how the voices in my head began to whisper horrible things to me, things that I didn't want to do.

Finish her, she hates you, Donna, everyone hates you, Donna, you're a monster...

“Wait, let me help you,” you said with a soft voice, not being able to take your eyes off me. Help me to what? To kill you?

The voices faded when I felt something warm in my hand, yours, holding it, preventing my desire to kill you from overpowering the desire to love you. You were a gardener, why was your skin so damn soft?

My gaze slowly rose to yours, knowing that this was the last thing I needed to make a decision, to make you disappear from my life, although my heart was screaming at me not to do it, to look into your eyes.

Your other hand rose to my face and I stepped back reflexively. I couldn't run away from you, your soft and warm hand made me stay in the same place, made me want to stay in the same place.

“That's it, that's it,” you whispered, running a hand through the bangs that hid my deformity. “You know what? I imagined you differently.”

Those words caused my mind to echo those voices again. I played with the veil in my hand, not knowing if I should put it back on, or on the contrary, strangle you with it. Just thinking about it made my stomach turn.

“What did you imagine?” I asked abruptly, bringing my panic attack to light. You smiled, unfazed by my nervous state.

“Well, I thought you were blonde,” you said calmly, taking the veil from my hand and putting it on my head again. Your hands weren't shaking, your eyes weren't terrified. You were hiding very well, huh?

“Blonde?” I asked confused. Didn't you think I was horrible? Did you think I was blonde? What kind of macabre joke made me love you so much?

You nodded with a sigh, brushing some flour off my shoulder.

“I...” I whispered, moving away from you, moving away for my own sake, and yours. “Tha, thanks for the tea,” I said, leaving the cabin almost running, wanting to disappear as soon as possible.

“You're welcome...” I heard you sigh when I cowardly ran away.

“Angie, I think I'm going crazy,” I said, sitting on the couch, already in the safety of my house.

“You mean even crazier?” The doll asked, climbing onto my lap. I shook my head, sobbing out of helplessness. Not for thinking that you would never love me, but for knowing that you were not there with me.

“You're not helping me,” I protested, bringing my hands to my face, feeling that horrible deformity that separated me from normality, that separated me from you...

“What should I do? I... I love her...” I said, letting out my frustration, being aware of what my feelings were, of what the reason was for not being able to stop seeing your smile.

“I don't know, I'm just a doll,” the puppet said, shrugging her shoulders. “Why don't you ask the girls? Maybe they know what to do.”

“Yes, they'll tell me to forcibly kidnap her and...” I said pushing Angie away from my body, shaking my head as an idea began to resonate among all my torments. “Wait, that's...”

“Oh...” Angie hummed. “Are you going to kidnap her? Sounds funny.”

“No, Angie,” I said sharply. The thought of seeing suffering overshadowing your beauty turned my stomach again.

“Are you going to force her? Drug her? Hmm, maybe undress her and put her in your bed? I know you want to do it, you forget that I know your thoughts,” the puppet continued. I never wanted to throw her into the fireplace so much.

“Stai zitto!” I screamed, overwhelmed by those horrible proposals. I couldn't deny that sometimes, just sometimes, to commit such an atrocity crossed my mind, but always, always your smile kept me from the wrong path, like you did with weeds, keeping them away from those beautiful flowers.

Angie covered her mouth with her hands and laughed sinisterly. It wasn't Angie, it was me, and I knew it.

“Then, what are you going to do?” She asked, offended because it had been a long time since she had fun with the suffering of others. I must have been an even more horrible person on the inside than on the outside.

“Maybe if she could live here... With me...” I said, thinking about how wonderful it would be to have you within these walls, how wonderful it would be to be able to see you every day, to know that you were here, with me. “But I don’t know how…”

“I got it!” The doll squealed, climbing back into my lap. I nodded nervously for her to speak, for that part of me to give me the solution to the pain that your absence caused me. “Alcina has maids, right? You know, girls who do all their boring chores.”

“You know what she does to the maids...” I whispered, thinking about that idea.

“She is a Lord, right? Just like you, Donna, why can't you have a maid?”

“Well, I...” I stammered, blinking quickly. It was the best idea I could have had. “Do you think (Y/N) would want…?”

“I don't know, I’ve already told you that I'm just a doll.”

Yes, (Y/N), you would be my maid, you would live with me, you would be close to me, I would be close to you…

“Maid?” You asked, pouring me a cup of tea, confused by my request.

I nodded, crumbling another of your cookies. You sifted the flour, you listened to me. Gods, I love you, (Y/N)...

“Well I... I don't know. I have never been a maid,” you said doubtfully. My fist crushed another cookie, rage began to consume me.

“It's easy, silly, you just have to clean the dust, cook, prepare hot baths for Donna...” Angie added. That time I didn't forget  about her, I needed her.

“Angie,” I whispered, blushing at the doll's lack of shame. I should have taught her manners, they should have taught me manners.

“Well, that's easy, I guess,” you said, crossing your arms.

“I'll pay you better, (Y/N)” I whispered, almost pleading. I didn't want to beg you, but I couldn't help it. “And, and, you would live with, with me.”

“Wait, at your house? Could I live in your house?” You asked surprised, leaning towards me. What did you expect?

“Yes,” I answered, shaking the crumbs from my hands. “It's what maids do.”

“Wow... I'm not complaining about this cabin but... I think I could sift flour with these walls, I don't know if you know what I mean...” You joked, pointing to the holes in one of the windows.

“You'll be better off at home, silly,” the doll emphasized, looking at me for my approval.

“Well then it's like a promotion, right?” You asked, a smile growing on your face.

“Yes, it is,” I said dryly.

“Wow, I... Thank you, Donna, it's, it's an honor,” you said excitedly, getting up from the chair and committing something stupid, something that would cost me too many sleepless nights.

Without shame, or any qualms, you hugged me, you did it, damn it, you surrounded me with your arms. The aroma of the flowers you cared for was impregnated in your clothes. I couldn't help but close my eyes to enjoy it, to enjoy you.

“I will be the best maid you have ever had, I promise,” you said with a smile, moving away, leaving a horrible empty space between the two of us.

Everything I imagined, what I thought it would be like to have you close to me, fell weak, too weak. I could finally have you. I could enjoy your company, your smile. You were not the best maid in the world, but you were mine.

You were happy, or so you told me. The trust I had placed in you was enough for you to swear loyalty to me. I didn't need your loyalty. I needed your love and you… You were incapable of realizing it.

I didn’t know the ways, the methods that people followed to win the love of their peers. I was so lost and confused, even being close to you, my patience ran out and the frustration of not being able to love you took its toll even on my work, even on my dolls.

“I can't tell her that, Angie,” I said, crossing my arms, waiting patiently for you to serve me dinner. I hoped that my advices would be enough to not get poisoned, again.

“You'll have to tell her something,” the doll told me, extending her arms as if she were saying something obvious. Angie, you were me, you knew I couldn't just…I couldn't.

“I don't know what,” I murmured, playing with the fork while resting my head on my hand.

“You rely too much on luck, Donna. If you don't tell (Y/N) you love her, she will never know.”

“What if she doesn't love me? What nonsense, of course she doesn't love me, no one could ever...”

“Stop, stop, stop,” the doll said, putting a hand on my mouth, a hand that I pushed away unpleasantly. I hated when Angie did that, I hated that she considered herself superior to me. “You don't know that.”

“I know, Angie,” I murmured, sighing.

“Have you ever heard about the fine art of seduction?” She asked, making comical gestures with her hands, bringing them together in a romantic pose.

“Seduction?” I asked curious.

“Yes, you know... Basic flirting: how beautiful you are, what beautiful hands you have, your smile makes me forget about the bad things in life... You know, that knd of stupid and cheesy things,” she responded, walking on top of the table. I hated when she did that, when my conscience did that.

“I don't see myself capable of doing that,” I admitted, huffing, looking from time to time at the elevator hallway.

“Well, you'll have to do it if you want her to notice,” Angie said, sitting on the table, swinging her legs. “A caress, a whisper… Hands that rest on her waist…”

I shook my head but couldn't help but ponder that idea. To seduce someone? No, it didn't seem possible.

“I'm getting better, huh?” You joked, already with dinner served. I nodded nervously. In those moments I would have liked to continue wearing the veil to hide my shame.

“Yes, I...” I stammered, seeking the confidence I needed in a glass of wine. “I, I like everything you make.”

“Wow, thanks for the compliment,” ​​you said with that smile, with that stupid… Beautiful smile.

“You're welcome...” I whispered, looking at the soup, thinking about Angie's words, about my words. “You are, you are beautiful…”

“What?” You asked due to my eternal clumsiness, due to those words that came out of my mouth on their own.

“I say, I say that... Well, you are beautiful and... Sure, that's probably why you cook so well... I... Your, your hands are soft and...”  I said, making the situation much worse.

“Donna, are you okay? You seem a bit little nervous,” you asked worried. I nodded immediately, with the wine as the only excuse for my idiocy.

At least you didn't seem angry at my words. That was… Fine, I guessed. Angie's strategy was absurd, but putting it into practice with you began to become a real hobby on my part.

Little by little, my hands began to touch you, to rub your back when I walked next to you. I don't know if you realized it, but I did, I enjoyed it every time I touched you, smiled at you and you smiled back.

Sometimes I would whisper something in your ear, “Italian is a sexy language,” Angie said. It was absurd for that to work, you didn't understand a word. Your waist began to be my playground, the place where my hands traveled unintentionally. I spent the day near you. I spent the day wanting to be even closer to you. But something, something in your eyes told me that I was making a mistake.

Your body separated from mine, you told me that you had things to do not to read, not to even have tea with me. Why were you doing this to me? Were my suspicions true? Didn't you love me?

“I like your hair... It's soft,” I whispered, running a hand through your hair while you were dusting. My hands traveled along your back and my body took the liberty of being closer and closer to yours.

You sighed. You looked tired, were you tired of me? Were you unable to see the love I felt for you?

“Donna,” you said with a serious voice, turning around and taking my hands, stopping their desire to travel to your waist. “I think, I think we have to talk.”

I nodded, grabbing your hands when they wanted to let go. You looked at me strangely again, you closed your eyes, as if you were suffering, did my love make you suffer?

“Hey, I'm happy here and... Well, I like working for you but...” You murmured, avoiding my gaze. My body started to shake immediately, something gave me a bad feeling.

“But,” I said with the serious tone I couldn't help but have when I was this nervous, when you were about to stick a dagger right in my heart.

“I don't know what's wrong with you lately, I...” You said, now, definitely moving away from me, as if you were afraid of me, were you afraid of me? “You…. You are always close to me, too close and... You touch me, you caress me... You whisper things to me that I don't understand...”

“I only say nice things to you,” I protested, frowning and feeling my eye water.

“Why, Donna?” You asked, with a cold, annoyed, offended look. You were scared. I could feel it in the trembling of your hands. “You've been... Harassing me for weeks and... I'm sorry, but I'm starting to get a bit uncomfortable.”

“Why? Don't you like me telling you that you're beautiful?” I asked, with my nerves on edge, with those voices starting to sound in my head. “Do you think I’m harassing you?”

“Well, no...Maybe harassment isn't the word, I...” You said, sighing to let out some air, relaxing your expression. “Something's wrong with you, Donna... Tell me, tell me why you're behaving that way.”

“I... I...” I stammered as I saw how you walked towards me again, slowly, with a disturbed look, but with your hands traveling to mine again. “Don’t, don't come any closer,” I asked you, I begged you.

It had been too long, too long until your closeness became an addiction to me. I couldn't take it anymore. I would become everything I hate if I let my body speak for itself. I didn't want to be Alcina, I didn't want to harass you, was it so difficult for you to see that what I wanted was to love you?

But it was too late. My head leaned to yours, my hands gently grasping your face, pulling you towards me, letting my lips taste yours for the first time. I kissed you, (Y/N), kissing you was the most extraordinary thing my horrible life had ever experienced. You stayed still, you didn't move, you didn't kiss me, you simply let me do it, let my lack of experience dominate that clumsy, unexpected kiss, the kiss that you didn't want to give me.

You pulled away slowly, opening your eyes and looking at me, not scared, but confused. My shame and my tears were no longer a secret from you. I had already gone too far, there was no longer any reason to remain silent.

“I love you, (Y/N),” I said with a sob, feeling how your body was moving away from me again, how my hands abandoned the soft touch of your skin. “I love you since, since I met you. I didn't, I didn't know what to do for you to know...”

You looked at me with amazement, with surprise, not with fear, not with terror.

“I brought you to my house so I could have you close to me because, because I am not able to let my mind imagine nothing but your smile and...”

I couldn't finish speaking. Your hand on my cheek cut off my words and your lips, your lips returned to mine, kissing me for real kiss. Your mouth on mine, the salty taste of my tears running across your lips, lips that caressed mine, that were not clumsy, that knew how to kiss, that taught me how to kiss.

“I love you too, Donna...” You murmured, still on my lips, still close to me. My reaction was not what I intended, I’m still unable to control myself. I turned away from you abruptly. Now I was the one who was scared.

“What? You? But, but...” I said, confused, looking everywhere except at your sincere gaze.

“I know, I know it's stupid but... Well, I guess it's okay to admit it. I'm in love with you,” you said, stopping me from going further away, putting your hands on my waist. If you knew how to have your hands holding me made me feel...

“But, but no, I don't believe you,” I said confused, trying to think clearly. “Since when?”

“Well, the day you named me your maid I... I started to see you in a different way. You know, the things I had heard about you, maybe they were preventing me from realizing the wonderful woman I had in front of me,” you explained, bringing one of your hands to my chest, approaching me again, as if you didn't want to let me go. I wasn't going to let you go, (Y/N), ever.

“You said you were uncomfortable,” I said with a suspicious tone. I found hard to believe you, really.

“Yes, I... I didn't know why you did those strange things. The last thing I thought was that you had feelings for me, that you felt the same as me.”

“If I didn't feel it, why would I do those things? It doesn't make sense,” I said, frowning even more. You smiled embarrassed.

“Maybe it was because of that or because... Well... Because...” You said, now more embarrassed. I knew you, (Y/N), I knew what you were thinking, the things you had heard about me.

“Because I'm sick in the head,” I whispered, terribly humiliated by that thought. It was a reality that made me complex, but that you thought I wanted, I don't know, to hurt you just for... For not being able to control my emotions... That hurt me.

“But, but I don't think about it anymore, Donna...” You said hastily, cupping my deformed face in your hands, keeping my gaze on yours. “You are very sweet, you know that? And very clumsy, too,” you joked, making me want to smile, blushing.

“I'm sorry, I don't... I didn't know what love was until I met you. I didn't know what to do,”  I apologized, hugging you, feeling the heat of your body against mine, protecting me from my demons.

“Let me show you what love is... Let's try to love each other... What do you think?” You asked, again on my lips.

“Please...” I sobbed, this time with joy.

Love, that artificial need of the human being... I didn't understand why it was so addictive, why the people I loved were so happy. Now I do.

Your kisses are a necessity for my body. Your caresses are like kisses on my soul, like massages to my heart. Everything I live with you is different, my world stopped being gray, I didn't need flowers to admire the beauty of life nor their colors. Your smile was something I had, something that could make the Sun come out on a cloudy day.

You were still my maid, that's what you wanted. I don't know why, but I didn't refuse. What I refused to do was spend more than half an hour without you. I cleaned with you, I cooked with you. I did everything with you so I could enjoy your caresses and your body snuggled up next to mine on a rainy day.

Over time, I stopped believing that I needed love to live. I only needed you.