#and cracking myself up every time. this immediately following ‘so no more of your SoUNd can pollute this Wuhrrld.’?

[camgoloud]

finally watching the interview with the vampire show as i have been thinking about doing for several months and. boy. that lestat sure can lestat!

[oreosmama]

Voicemails After the Breakup (Haikyuu!! Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: I pity the fools who ignore this a/n bc WARNING, these are hcs without those stupid bullet points bc I have suddenly emotionally decided that they fucking suck. Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy the light angst, for all those survivors who are still vibing in this fandom. Enjoy!

Word count: 1968

Tooru Oikawa:

“I’m totally and completely over you.”

That’s how the message starts. 

Part of you wonders if you missed something, or accidentally skipped ahead. It’s so immediate, like Oikawa could barely wait for the beep before tearing into you. Like he needed to spit poison the second he had the chance. 

And it’s one of those biting remarks that he wants to let fester—for a while, evidently; he doesn’t say anything else for another five minutes. 

All that follows is a loud thud, like he’s thrown the phone away from him. And then footsteps, like he’s pacing, pacing, pacing back and forth, trying to think of more scathing words by burning holes into his carpet. 

You hit a point where you think you should delete the message, maybe try and not care about whatever else he may or may not say after waiting for so long. You nibble on your nails and tug at the snarls in your hair. You pick four pieces of lint off your sweatshirt and seventeen more off the blanket draped over your lap, and you know how many there are because you line them up and count them afterwards as you wait, anxious, listening to your ex-boyfriend’s panting. 

But a small rustle stirs at that five-minute mark, right against your ear. And a sniffle. 

“Fine.” Oikawa’s voice cracks. “You win.” 

You suck in a breath. 

“What do you wanna hear? That I miss you?” He sniffles again, then scoffs bitterly. “That I miss you so fucking much I can’t sleep at night? That my bed is so fucking cold now I can’t even stomach sleeping in it? That every girl I see I automatically compare to you because I have to—I just fucking have to, all because she’s not you. And it makes me sick.”

His chuckle is sour and crackles harshly into your eardrum. “Am I stroking your ego enough, sweetheart? Because you win. You fucking win.

“I want you back.” 

He sighs, and it sounds like he’s rubbing his forehead. 

“I need you back.” 

More beats pass in the silence. More sniffles, too, but stretched out, like he’s trying to steady his breathing. 

You don’t think it’s helping him any. As you wipe the cuffs of your sweatshirt underneath your eyes, his voice returns, thoroughly raw and wounded. It squeaks out of him, barely above a whisper. His voice is so loud and tender, like he’s cradling the phone against his cheek. 

Your hand against his warm cheek, curled over that pink skin, fingertips inches away from brushing through those soft strands, wiping tears. That’s what you wish it was. 

“I didn’t know…” 

A shaky breath. You hold yours in return. 

“I didn’t know anything could hurt this bad.”

He swallows thickly. 

“Those last few moments after you left—I thought that would be the worst of it. When you just walked out. And I keep seeing you do it, over and over and over, in my head like I can’t help but torture myself with it.

“I never knew it would get so much fucking worse.”

He whimpers a little, and your heart constricts unbearably. You tear at the damn thing buried underneath your sweatshirt, massaging the skin like it can soothe that phantom ache. 

Oikawa must hate you. Maybe he hates you like you hate him: not because of the breakup, but because you can go for weeks without seeing him, holding him, kissing him, and everything still hurts like that last time. 

“Thing is, I could’ve sworn you weren’t always in my life. It’s been two years. Only two years. And yet I can’t remember a damn thing before us. It feels like it was always us. Some fog, and then you, and then everything afterwards. Everything that was us.”

“And I hate that we had it so good, YN. I really do. Because missing you has been the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

The frustration in his voice is familiar, a sickening sense of deja vu around it, and you latch a hand over your mouth at how vividly the image comes to you: Oikawa tearing his fingers through his hair, teeth gritted, cheeks flushed and shiny. Like when he lost a game, but different somehow. 

Like this was something he didn’t even know he could lose.

He’s crumbling in a way he doesn’t know how to stop. That ugly part about having something wonderful and new—the moment it’s gone, what the hell are you supposed to do then?

“I just—Goddamnit, I can’t stand how badly it hurts anymore. I can’t,” he cries, desperate and aching, like his hand is fisting at his heart. You can hear the breath hitching in his throat, the hiccuping breaths after his sobs. You can hear every tear, feel it against your own cheeks, a soreness building at the front of your skull. 

Too many tears. Your body is screaming at you, too many fucking tears. 

But it’s him and he was yours and you were his. 

Were. 

You were his. 

You had no idea how much that single thought could make your entire chest throb. 

Oikawa inhales, and it makes your heart race against the thick wall caging it in, squeezing against it. 

“I need to see you.” 

He says the thought like it’s just slapped him across the face. 

“I need to go see you, I—I have to.” 

He mumbles to himself unsteadily, like he’s rocking back and forth. Debating, really, what he’s supposed to do, if he should do it at all, if it’s right after everything.

You should probably think he’s wrong.

You probably shouldn’t be curled over your phone, eyes wide, mouth open, not making a fucking peep. Waiting to hear what he’s going to do. 

Maybe—just maybe—you shouldn’t be telling yourself that as the voicemail counts down to its final seconds, if he decides he’s not going to go to you, that you’ll definitely be going to him.

“I can’t just sit here. I can’t stay in here, without you. This isn’t right, I—”

Your breath hitches when you hear the frantic jingle of keys. 

Then the sound of a door slamming. 

His footsteps racing down his apartment’s stairwell.

A car engine revving. 

“I need to see you.” 

And the voicemail ends. 

_________________________

Satori Tendou: 

The message begins with a scoff of utter disbelief. 

“Is that what we’re doing now?”

He pauses, almost like he thinks you’re going to respond. 

“Heard from someone that I suddenly have syphilis. Yesterday, I had herpes though, so I guess I’m gonna have a tough week.”

A rustle like he’d shaking his head, like he can’t fucking believe it. 

“And sure, okay, I figured that’s fine. You can say all that shit, and it won’t really stick because everyone knows it was us and that it’s you and you’re hurt.”

He sighs. 

“But I saw it, sweetheart. I saw it.” The phone whines like he’s adjusting it against his face, and his voice is suddenly lower, darker. 

“You don’t get to have it both ways, you know. You can’t spread all that shit—all those rumors about how shitty everything was and how we didn’t have anything going for us—and then turn around two days later wearing my sweatshirt. And you don’t get to wear that necklace I gave you for our anniversary and then run away from me the second you see me. That’s just not fair—you’re not playing fair anymore.”

Something swishes around like loose clothing, and a large huff greets your ear from what must be Tendou collapsing into a seat. When his little sounds become quieter, that relentless humming and the excitable clicks of his tongue against his teeth, you figure he must have put the phone on speaker and balanced it on his knee like he always did. Mid-conversation with Ushiwaka, he always used to spin his phone with those long fingers, or bounce the damn thing up and down against his frantic leg. 

And the voicemail came through late last night, one of those dead hours where the only ones awake were Tendou, his scrambling thoughts, and the moths flitting back and forth outside his glowing window. He was always awake, always thinking, always doing something. 

When you’d first broken up, after one long, wrenching fight where you’d both lost your voices and the frustration welled so high you just couldn’t breathe anymore, you’d been thankful for the idea of sleeping soundly for the first time in months. 

You’d been wrong. You weren’t even sleeping anymore; just long, slow blinks where your phone screen would magically turn from 3:45 a.m. to 7:25 a.m., and in five minutes you’d have to get up and slug your way through another day. 

Tendou had been the same. Those naturally wide eyes sagged under the pressure, and the curve of his spine had deepened like he’d been hauling the lack of sleep everywhere he went. 

He must be sitting at his window now, at this moment in his message, pale skin aglow with wispy tendrils of moon. And he’s calling you. And he saw everything you’d done. 

“Not fair. Not fair at all,” he whines, teasing. Always, always teasing, and if you hadn’t heard the slight cripple in his voice on the last word, you’d have gone on thinking he viewed it as one big joke. 

You’re sure he heard the same thing you had—that he couldn’t keep acting like it was all fun and games. His usual, cat-like smile surely fell into a pert little frown, pale lips twisting like he’d sucked on a lemon. 

No fun, no fun, no fun, he must have been thinking. 

“Ya see, I thought we had a little deal,” Tendou drawls. “You’d talk smack and start dressing all pretty just to spite me, and then–and then I’d go ahead and delete all your pictures and put your name as ‘Bitch’ in my phone. And in, like, two weeks, we’d just be two ships, whoosh, whoosh, passing each other on the high seas of life, ya know?”

He breathes a ghost of a laugh. 

“But, sweetheart, you look like shit.” He chuckles for real this time, and it’s disgustingly hollow. “I’m not even kidding. Like someone ran you over three times every morning—it’s horrible, really.”

You curl into yourself even further, and you’re smiling, grinning, lips peeling with how much you’ve cried and how little water you’ve drank after. You hate him; God, you hate how he can make you laugh and cry at the same time. 

“But that’s okay, I’ll give you a pass just this once. I haven’t deleted your pictures yet, so I botched my end of the deal, too.” Tendou tsks his tongue. 

“I won’t go easy on you, though. Here–here, how’s about this: for every day you stop wearing my clothes—because they look horrible on you, sweetheart; really, you’re painful to watch—I’ll delete one of your pictures, eh? That means, in about–uhhdivideby365daysinayearignoringleapyearbullshit–ah, seven years, I’ll have held up my end. S’that good with you?”

You lean your head back, letting the tears flood your hair as he chuckles to himself. 

“Fuck it,” he says after a pause. Hopeless. Breathless. “Fuck it.” He must be gnawing on that pale lower lip, biting and nibbling until it bleeds. Because he lets something go to sigh again, and he must have smacked his head against the wall, and then you think he sniffled. 

“I still want you. I’ve always wanted you. And I’m tired of missing you and wanting you. Doing both hurts too much.”

Tendou soughs.

“So I’m still your Chicken Tendy, baby. Always. And I’ll be here when you're ready, syphilis and all.”

[sachiko6243]

Make me your wife

Summary: Y/N and her sister got attacked by giant spiders. Luckily Thranduil and his men were near enough to come to their rescue. What Y/N didnt think would ever happen, would be the elven king falling for her sassy and sarcastic character...

Word count: 6606

Warnings: spider attack in the beginning, sass, smut in the end, Minors DNI, this contains adult content!

This was written on request for: @mitsurisu I hope you like it. Sorry for the long wait, but I had much to do at my work. 😅

I was riding through the forest of the Woodland realm with my sister Leonor. We had set of from Rivendell on the request of Legolas. We had met him after he had helped the dwarves to take back their mountain. He was a very nice fellow, flirtatious and easy going, to the point where my sister had poked me and made fun of me for maybe pursuing him as a potential partner. She had been married to her husband for the last 300 years and was still utterly convinced that I would be happy in a marriage as well.

Nothing I said was driving her from that path and I had given up convincing her otherwise, deciding that letting her talk and ignore it would be the best option. She was once again on a rampage on married life, while I rode besides her, letting my thoughts and gaze wander. A crack deeper in the woods made me listen up. I knew that in those woods there were living many giant spiders, so I silenced my sister. She wasn’t a fighter like I was and if we were in trouble I needed her to listen to me.

“Shut it, Leonor. I think I heard something!” I whispered, but she waved it off. “Oh, come on Y/N. You always see and hear danger everywhere.”

“Its my job. I am a soldier after all. Be quiet, there are many spiders in these woods. I need to figure out if we are in danger.” I growled, my hands already gripping my two swords.

“Relax. There is nothing out there. You know how thoroughly Legolas and the guards clear those woods. He has told us on many occasions.” She sighed, not taking the threat seriously.

Another crack made me draw my swords, telling my horse to speed up. Leonor was quick to follow me and we were now thundering through the forest. I really hoped that it was just the forest doing foresty things and not some giant spiders, but my hope was being denied.

With a loud thud, a dark green giant spider dropped right in front of us. Leonor was just quick enough to steer her horse around it, while I was cut of by the spiders body. My horse shrieked, nearly throwing me off, but I was just able to keep me on its back. “RUN!” I yelled at my sister, making myself ready to face the big monster.

“Y/N!” She screamed, drawing the attention of the beast to her. It got up high enough for me to ride under his stomach, grabbing the reigns of my sisters horse who seemed frozen in place.

Dragging her behind me, I rushed my horse through the woods, hoping that we would be faster than that spider. Leonor took a while to come out of her frozen state, but when she was able to steer her horse again, I gave her back the reigns, now drawing my bow, turning around on my horse to shoot at the giant spider. But it didn’t seem like my arrows really seemed to bother the creature that was chasing us. And to my dismay, I hear the clicking sounds of several more coming through the woods.

They started to catch up to us, our horses slowly but surely loosing speed. And then it happened. We got circled by two smaller spiders dropping in front of us. Our horses freaked again, this time throwing us off their backs and making a run, only to be killed by spiders stomping onto them. Immediately they started to drag them away, probably into their net. I reached for another arrow, realizing, that I had shot every single one of them, without taking down one single spider.

“Fuck.” I let out, throwing my bow to the ground and dragging my swords.

“What do you mean fuck?” Leonor asked and I just gritted out: “Fuck as in we are fucked. I am out of arrows.”

“You shot all of them?” She asked and I wanted to smack her: “No, I threw them away. Of course I did!”

“No need to be so snappy.” She lashed back and I just looked at her with a deadly glare. “Oh yes, we are just about to die and I should play happy fun time with you? Forgive me for feeling a little stressed.”

“Its not my fault, that it happened.” Leonore seemed hurt and I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. “I never said it was. I am sorry for snapping at you. Its just… Ah forget it. Try to stay close to me, without getting in my way. If we are getting separated, I cant protect you and if you are in my way, I will probably hurt you. Just…” I tried to make it understandable for her. “…think of it as a dance.”

“A dance?” She asked and I could hear she was raising her brows. “Why would I think of this as a dance?” Shrugging my shoulders I swung my sword at the first spider stepping close: “I don’t know. You are the minstrel of us. I was just trying to make it logical for you.”

I didn’t hear what she answered, because my sword collided with the heavy foot of a spider, drawing an ugly screeching sound from it, as I cut through the hard material. Letting my second sword swing higher, I managed to stab it into the thicker part of the leg. Ripping out my first sword, I swung my body around and through the air, landing on top of the spider. I forced both my swords into its head, managing to down it. Jumping off, I faced the next one, but my fight seemed to have no end, as I saw that the ranks were quickly closed again.

A horn being blown and horses thundering through the woods made me catch a new wave of hope and I started to fight back harder, always making sure to cover my sister from any attacks. I heard yelling and arrows whirring through the air and I realized, that the spiders slowly but surely were thinned out. Facing another one, I was just quick enough to jump aside, as it launched for me. Rolling around, I found myself underneath its big body. Not hesitating a second, I stabbed my blades into its stomach drawing it along, as I ran to get out of there.

A mixture of spider blood, gushy intestines and a sort of dark slime covered me, as I stumbled out beneath the tumbling and falling creature. Catching my breath, I stood there for several seconds, trying to regain some strength and to get rid of the slippery mixture that covered me. When I was able to look back up, the rest of the spiders had either been slain or forced away, leaving us and the elves that came to our rescue behind. “Y/N! Leonor!” I heard Legolas yell, turning to look at him.

A sarcastic smile on my lips, I greeted him: “You seem to lack in your mission to clear the woods, my prince.” He gritted his teeth, hugging Leonor, but refraining to do the same to me: “You are as friendly as always, Y/N.” I shrugged, shoving my swords back into their sheaths. “What can I say. I was raised to be a sunshine.” But when I saw his father approaching us, I stopped talking, bowing to greet the king. “My king. I apologize for causing trouble in your lands.”

“No need to apologize. You were right. It seems as if my son isn’t particularly thorough with his task. I am the one in need to apologize as this has clearly endangered you and your…”

“Sister, my king.” I helped him out, still looking down on the ground.

“…your sister. Am I correct with the assumption you came to visit my kingdom?” He asked.

“Yes, my king. We came to visit your son, prince Legolas. He has invited us.” I answered stiffly, looking at Legolas for help. The blond elf just smiled at me and I dared to look at his father the first time. And what I saw knocked the breath out of my lungs. He was gorgeous to say the least.

Tall, strong, handsome. The similarities to Legolas unmistakable. And his blue eyes. Staring at me as if he was reading directly into my soul. I was totally caught of guard by his appearance, not realizing he was talking to me again: “I am sorry. What did you say, my king?” I barely remembered to address him by his title, but he didn’t seem to mind. Smiling at me, he repeated his words: “I was welcoming you to my kingdom. As it seems, something must have caught your attention, my Lady.”

“Y/N. Just Y/N, my king. I am no lady. Just a common soldier of Rivendell.” I corrected him, trying my best to hide my breathless voice. Thranduil looked behind me, the smile on his lips widening. “A very good one, as it seems. You took out two spiders on your own.”

“And I shot all my arrows without them having any effect.” I reduced his praise, not feeling comfortable with the king saying such high words about me. He clicked his tongue. “Ah, arrows barely have any effect on the spiders. Their shells are far to thick for them to penetrate deep enough.”

“I didn’t know, my king. The next time I will come prepared.” I said, bowing deeply again.

“The next time?” He asked with a smirk to his lips and I furrowed my brows: “Yes? Did I do something wrong, my king? If I have insulted you in any form, I apologize.” But Thranduil just grinned at me with a knowing look on his lips, before he turned around: “The next time you visit us, let me know beforehand, so that I can ensure your save journey. A lady like you must not face such beasts under my watch.”

“I can fend for myself!” I yelled after him, this time leaving out his title, as his assumption angered me. He looked over his shoulder, taking in my angry form for a moment, before he answered: “I know. But I would feel better if you were protected by my guards.” Then he turned around, looking at a light brown haired man: “Feren, ensure that Leonor and Lady Y/N have a horse to ride on and have a bath prepared for them.” The man bowed his head slightly. “Yes, my Lord.”

***

And that’s how I had met Thranduil. That was nearly 100 years ago. 87 to be exact. He had started to court me soon after that incident, sending letter over letter to Rivendell, to the point where even Lord Elrond heard of what was happening. In the beginning I didn’t think much of it, reading his letters as nothing more as friendly correspondence. Until one day he literally showed up in Rivendell, demanding to speak with Lord Elrond himself.

Later on, I was told, that Thranduil had demanded to know if I was forced to work too much, since I didn’t answer every single one of his letters. From then on, our letters turned into a frequent thing, until one day I asked Lord Rivendell to free me from my duties and to allow me to live in Mirkwood. Lord Elrond let me go with a warm and knowing smile, something I didn’t exactly know how to read back then.

But soon, Thranduil and my friendship turned into him making advances until I finally gave in to courting him. Thranduil had pulled every string he had, to get me to fall for him. He made sure that I was taken care off, that I had everything I ever wished for to the point where I literally had to fight him on lessening his extensive gifts, but there was nothing I could do to talk sense into that man.

And now here I was, sitting at the big banquet next to him. We had gotten married. Well technically we weren’t truly married yet, since for elves the marriage was only completed when the marriage was conceived. And to be honest, I couldn’t wait much longer. My friends and family had come to Mirkwood and wished me the very best. Even Lord Elrond had managed to fit in time to spare my marriage a visit, congratulating me.

I looked at my now husband, only to find him staring at me already. “You are so beautiful, my little starlight.” He whispered, reaching his hand for mine. I squeezed his hand, leaning in to his shoulder. “How long do we have to keep up this thing, until we can retreat?” I asked, the alcohol in my blood probably pushing me to speak this openly. Thranduil chuckled at my words: “So desperate already?” I smacked him on the chest. “Don’t tell me you aren’t.”

“At least I don’t show it so openly.” He teased me, kissing my hand softly. “Dance with me, meleth.”

Letting him pull me to my feet, he guided us to the dancefloor, pulling me close to his body and I could feel that he was longing for me the same way I did for him. His head sank down to my level as he whispered: “This one last dance should appease our guests. I think they already know what is about to happen, but it is much easier to vanish between dancing couples than from the high table.” I smirked at his words, leaning my head onto his chest. “Is that so, my king?”  I felt him shrug: “At least I suspect it would make things easier for Feren. He always seems to be so stressed.”

“That’s because you stress him, herven.” I answered and the way he stiffened at me calling him husband for the first time, made me smile. “Herven.” He repeated. “Say it again. It sounds so beautiful from your lips.”

“What? Herven?” I asked, putting a soft moan to my words. Thranduils breathing became rigid, as he clearly had trouble keeping the rhythm of the dance. He took a deep breath, before he simply ended the dance pulling me through the other couples. “You know what? Fuck it. I am done waiting.” Once we were far enough away from the others to hear or see us, he threw me over his shoulder, causing me to shriek out loud. “Thranduil!”

“Oh yes. That’s even better.” He grinned, carrying me through the halls and back to his chambers. “I am going to make sure that the only things that are leaving your mouth will be my name, my title and those sweet little moans or yours.”

***

Thranduil stopped in front of his door, looking at me with what I believed to be fear in his eyes. “Are you ready?” He asked me and I nodded: “Yes.” Taking his hand, I followed him inside. As soon as the door fell shut behind us, he pressed me against a wall, a sly smirk on his lips. “You have no idea, how much I waited to do this.” I didn’t react to his tease, just pulling him in by his collar, desperate to kiss him. His hands wandered to my waist, gripping the fabric of my dress.

I held onto him, still letting his hands wander over my body. “Are you sure, you want to do this?” He asked, his breath fanning down my neck, before he bit down on my sweet spot. Moaning at the sensation that rushed through my body, I tried my best to keep the conversation going: “Yes, I am. I haven’t been so sure about anything in my life, ever.”

“Good. Because I doubt, I would be able to endure the wait any longer.” His husked voice sent shivers down my spine and I had to hold on to his shoulders, to not faint. “You know what this perfume does to me, darling? The whole evening, I could not focus on anything else than you sweet smell. Do you even know, how hard I was all evening?” He picked me up, pressing me against the wall, looking at me with an angry hunger in his eyes. “I should not be commanded by a woman like that, especially not one that does it so easily like you do. It is endangering my reputation.”

“I think your reputation as the King is hardly attacked with you desiring your wife.” Trying my best to fight back against his administrations, I rolled back my head when his free hand opened the lacing of my dress, desperate to feel more of him. “What reputation, darling? Go on. Make your point.”

“The… fuck…” I cursed, earning a chuckle: “That’s very unladylike, darling. I should knock that word out of your brain.”

“You wouldn’t dare to do that. You love my dirty mouth.” I sassed back. He hummed at my words, just holding me tight to his body. “I do. And I want to make sure you are taken care off.” His words made me open my eyes again, leaning back to look at him.

He let me down slowly, still trying to hide his face from me, but I held his head, looking at him, when he let go of me: “No, please tell me. What are you afraid of?” I asked, stepping closer to him, but he just dodged backwards. Tilting my head, I followed him into the living area, effectively backing him into the sofa. When he sat down on it, I straddled his lap. “Are you afraid to be close to me?”

“No…” He breathed heavily. “Yes… I don’t know. I… I want to be close to you, but I don’t want you to feel forced. You know how it is… Wifely duties and all and I don’t want to pressure you into anything, but at the same time I want to feel you, hold you, smell you, taste you. Everything. I am in no place to expect anything from you, so I refrain from giving in to those thoughts too much, because I don’t want to make it too obvious to you, that my needs are currently overruling my consciousness. And now that I am close and… and alone with you, I realize that its much harder than I have thought it would be... I want this to be special to you. I want to be the loving husband you deserve, to let you know that you are my most priced treasure… That I would do anything for you.”

I just looked at him: “Are you… are you rambling? The elven king and man of precise language is rambling and stuttering?”

“Yes.” Was all he said. “And you currently sitting on my lap, dressed like that, doesn’t help my case either.”

“What's stopping you?” Letting my voice drop lower, I leaned forward, rolling my hips shamelessly over his lap. He groaned out, gripping my tighter. “Y/N… You don’t have to do this. I can live with it, if you aren’t ready.”

“Do I look forced, meleth?” I whispered close to his ear, nibbling on it. “Show me what it feels like. Please, meleth. Touch me. Please… be my husband.”

Thranduil let his head fall back, his eyes were closed, as he was definitely on his last straw of mindfulness. “How much do I need to push you, until you give in?” I giggled at his neck, making my way up to his chin and then hovering over his lips. “Would it help, if I lose my wedding dress?”

“You sound like a prostitute…” He gritted out and I just grinned wider. “And? Is it working?”

“Yes. And I don’t know if I like that thought.”

“Which thought? Me as a prostitute, or that I am succeeding to win you over that easily?” I kept on teasing him. Leaning back, I opened up the strings of my dress, pulling it over my head.

He balled his fists at my waist, his eyes forcefully trained on my face. “Both. But I would never let you become a prostitute.”

“Scared to share me?” Still keeping up my teasing way, I just sat on top of him, waiting for him to react. “No.” He gritted out.

“What's it then? Afraid another man might do me better?” Wetting my fingers with my tongue, I let them slide between my legs, stabilizing myself with my free hand on his knee. And when my fingers found my clit, I hummed in pleasure, still watching his face intently. Not reacting to my administrations, he spoke in a very forced tone: “You are my wife. There is no other man. Ever.”

“Hmmm. I like that, meleth.” I sighed, feeling how I grew wetter, so I dipped one finger inside my core, only to then put it to my mouth to lick it clean. “I like it, when you get possessive and confrontive towards other men. The difference of how you treat them and how you treat me, makes me feel special.”

“Does it now?” He sassed and I sighed internally. I finally had him broken out of his restrictive shell. I had my husband back: “Always has.”

“You really want to do this?” He inquired further and I nodded. “Yes. Please. I think I am ready.” Taking one last breath, he gripped my thighs. “Hold on.” Without giving me much time to react, he got up, walking towards the bedroom. “If you want me to do this, I am going to do this properly.”

“I know. Everything else wouldn’t be like you.” I grinned, hiding my face in his neck. He sat me down slowly on the edge of the bed. Then he stepped back, taking off his clothes one piece after the other: “If you are already naked, I shall be too. I don’t want to make you feel insecure.” His words made me blush and I stuttered out a quiet “Thank you.”  

Thranduil came back to me sinking further to his knees. When he was eyelevel with my stomach, he softly kissed it, then down my thigh until he reached my knee. “Lean back and relax.” His voice was rough, his warm breath sending goosebumps over my inner thigh.

“I want to watch you. I need to see you.” I whispered, stroking through his hair. His jaw clenched at my words, but he didn’t say anything, taking my hand and pressing a kiss to it. “If you wish so.” His fingers ghosted over my skin, leaving trails of goosebumps behind. “I will take my time today. I want to take care of you as good as I can.” He whispered roughly, kissing the insides of my thighs up to my core. I was too mesmerized with his softness, his blue eyes burning with love and passion, that I was incapable of answering him.

Then I felt his first finger touch my core and I stiffened up, digging my nails in his shoulders. He immediately stopped, looking up at me, waiting for me to relax. We stared into each others eyes, Thranduil kissing and nibbling on my thighs. “You are safe, meleth. Relax. There is nothing you have to fear.” Taking a deep breath, I focused on his eyes, relaxing as much as I could. And when he felt me giving up my barrier, he kept on pushing his finger inside of me. “See? You are doing great.”

I closed my eyes, the faint sound of his name on my lips and I could feel the familiar feeling starting to grow between my legs. Carefully he added another finger, scissoring them apart, creating a steady rhythm. “Let go, love. You are doing so good. Taking my fingers so well.” He praised me, his voice low and soft like silk. I could feel my blood rush to my face, painting it a light pink shade, my heartbeat thrumming in my ears, that I nearly missed his sweet little murmurs. His mouth wandered all over my thighs, my stomach, and hip bones, until he hovered over my core. “May I?”

“Yes…” I breathed out, moaning, when I felt his lips kiss my sensitive spot. Instinctively I spread my legs further, letting myself fall back onto the bed, one hand still clasping his free arm. “Thranduil…” I moaned, unable to focus on anything else than the man between my legs, lulled in by his sweet touches and soft little praises. “Please don’t stop.” I cried out, not really caring, that it was still the early evening, our windows hanging open, still a hurried humming coming from the big ball room.

“Never.” Was all he answered, slowly finger fucking me. It was ridiculous, how fast he was able to find the sweet spot deep inside of me. I heaved myself onto my elbows, wanting to see him, rather than just feeling him. And the expression that he had on his faze was breathtaking. Full of confidence and arrogance, a slight smirk forming on his lips, when he realized I was watching him again. “You taste so fucking good.” He groaned, raising his head to properly look at me. The shamelessness of him made me gasp out in embarrassment. His face was covered in my slick, eyes wild and hungry.

His gaze flickered between soft love and hungry possession as he was clearly fighting his urges to claim me. And I was absolutely turned on by it.

Thranduils smile grew wicked, when he saw how much I was affected by him. Wiping my slick of his chin, he licked his fingers clean, making a show out of it, simultaneously not stopping his fingers working my core. “You like that do you?” I wasn’t able to answer, just staring him in the eyes. “Answer me, my love, or I will stop.” He teased, some of his usual possessive self breaking through.

“Yes.” I pressed out, his name quickly following, when he curled his fingers perfectly against my sweet spot. Dipping down again, his fingers and tongue kept pushing me further down the road of my orgasm. The knot in my lower stomach starting to grow tighter, my legs wrapping around his shoulders, to keep him in place. I could feel my walls starting to flutter around his digits, another sign that I was close. The strength left my upper body and I fell back onto the bed, pulling his free arm close to my chest, nails digging into his skin. My eyes rolled back into my head as his name rang through the room, when my orgasm suddenly washed over me.

I felt him carefully pull out his fingers, his hands gently covering my cunt, as I just dwelled in the feeling. Tears started to form in my eyes and I tugged on his arm. “Meleth…” I mewled, desperate to feel him. He reacted instantly, getting up from his position climbing onto the bed and pulling me higher into the pillows. I turned around, crawling to the headboard falling to my stomach. “Feel you!” I pressed out, hugging a pillow tight to my chest.

Seconds later, I could feel his warm body hovering over me. I reached out for his hand that was holding his weight, clamping my fingers around his wrists. Sinking down on his elbows, he pressed me down, taking my hands in his bigger ones. The new intimate position making me feel hot and safe at the same time. His strong chest forced me down, chest hair tickling on my back, his thighs caging me in, as he buried me underneath him. “Thranduil…” I whimpered desperately, bucking my ass against his crotch.

He growled into my ear, his lips smothering me roughly, leaving a trail of wet kisses behind. “Please… I need you… Meleth…” I tried again, pressing up against his body, only to be met with him pressing me down further. “By Valar, please… I cant bare it anymore…” Begging for more, I cried out for him the tension in my body so high, that I was sure I would snap any moment.

His hands were roaming over my body, when he suddenly grabbed my arm, twisting me around. I shrieked and he instantly pulled back, skidding back to the edge of the bed, hands raised. “I am sorry, darling. I let myself go. Forgive me.”

“Its alright, Meleth. I trust you. I just didn’t expect this.” I smiled at him, reaching out for him. “Come back. Please.”

“What if I hurt you?” He stayed at the end of the bed.

“You wont hurt me.”

“You don’t know that!” He nearly yelled; the stress clear in his eyes. I gulped hard, seeing him irritated like that send a shiver down my spine. Taking a deep breath, I forced the unwanted thoughts out of my head.

“I know that you would never willingly do something that would harm me in any way. And that is all you can do. I trust you with all my life and I want this, meleth. I need this. Please. What can I do to make you believe me? To help you to trust yourself with me?”

“Promise to tell me, when its too much, or when I hurt you.” He rasped, slowly coming back to me, leaning his face into my hand.

“I promise.”

“Thank you.” He whispered, kissing my palm, before he sat back on his ankles, opening his breeches and I couldn’t help but stare at him.

His cock sprung free, hard, and tinted in a light pink shade, a drop of precum already crowning on his tip. “Fuck yes…” I breathed, staring at his manhood, not realizing, that he moved again, ridding himself from his breeches, crawling towards me again. He forced me to lay back down on my back and I just wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him flush against my core. That caused him to grind his hips against mine, eliciting a soft moan from my lips. I just clung to his body, squirming against his touch. “So needy.” He mused, kissing his way down to my breasts, taking one nipple between his lips.

Him sucking so delicately on my nipple, let me jolt in pleasure. I could feel his hard cock pressing against my thigh, twitching in anticipation. Supporting all his weight on one hand, he looked at me one last time, waiting for me to give him my consent. Nodding I bit my lip, bracing myself for what was about to come. He guided his hard member into me, very carefully easing his way in. I was still incredible wet from my previous orgasm, but I wasn’t prepared to take him, my body tensing up at the intrusion, making him stop mid movement. “Are you alright, darling? We don’t have to…” But I shook my head. “Go on. I want this.” 

Once he bottomed out, he stayed sheathed like that, distracting any thought I had with kissing me, until my head spun. It didn’t take long for me to grow accustomed to him, my hips starting to roll against him. I held onto his shoulders, looking him deep into the eyes. “I love you.” Thranduil nearly crumbled at my words, closing his eyes and groaning lowly. “Fuck me… That’s the hottest ‘I love you’, you have ever said.” Giggling I blushed. “I doubt that.”

“Not that it isn’t incredible to hear you say it in any other situation, but this… this just hits different. You trusting me like this... This memory will forever be my heaven.”

“You old romantic.” I groaned, but my smile betrayed me, him bending down for a kiss. “Always for you.”

Slowly he started to move, setting a slow and steady pace, fully set on pleasuring me as much and long as he could. My walls started to accommodate him more, relaxing around him. I hummed at the sweet feeling that started to spread through my body, my head sinking deeper into the pillows. “Yes…” I sighed, closing my eyes, just holding onto his upper arms.

“I love you, darling. Just relax and enjoy.” His words were water on a hot stone, instantly fogging up my mind, a light veil covering us.

He bent down to my neck, kissing it, nibbling onto my shoulder and a short worry of being marked up by him shot through me, but when he managed to hit my sweet spot, that worry got kicked out of my mind again. “Thranduil!” I yelped, digging my nails into his arms even more. “Do it again.” He growled against my skin, his teeth nipping on the sweet spot right under my ear. “Let me hear how much this pleasures you.” I complied to his demand, babbling before I even managed to filter anything that left my mouth: “Please… Give me more… I need more. Make me your wife, please… This feels so good. You feel so good. Claim me, please… meleth.”

“God, Y/N.” He moaned. “You are going to be the death of me…” The way he was so affected by it, only fed the tingly feeling in my body, spreading it to my limps. The tension in my lower stomach now growing bigger with every second, causing me to produce a guttural moan. I clasped my hand in front of my mouth, my gaze wandering towards the open balcony door, but Thranduil didn’t seem to mind one bit. Quite the opposite. He let out a growl, taking my hand away again. “Let them hear. Let the whole kingdom know, that you are my wife.”

Shifting his weight, he leaned back on his ankles, raising my hips, while fucking me deeper into the mattress. The new position caused him to hit a particular deep spot inside of me, pushing all the air out of me in a loud cry of his name.

“Say it again, little one. Let everyone know who you belong to.” He darkly smiled at me, his thrust not faltering one second. “So beautiful. So perfect for me. Taking my cock so well.” Praising me, he didn’t let go of my eyes. “Keep your eyes on me, bereth. I want to see you, when you come.”

I couldn’t help but stare at him, mesmerized by him, not able to resist the drawl he put into calling me his wife. His wife. That title alone did things to my mind, I wasn’t prepared for. The knot in my stomach was about to pop, threatening to pull me under. And by the way he was grinning, he knew. Knew from the way I shivered, the way my walls fluttered around his length. “Go on, my starlight. Let go for me. I wanna see those beautiful eyes roll back in your head. Wanna feel how you twitch around me and make a mess on my cock.” He spurred me on. And on cue I came.

Hard.

My back arched from the bed, eyes rolling back inside my head. I shivered in his hands in pure bliss of my orgasm, his name ringing through the room loud enough, that I was sure even the soldiers standing guard on the southern entrance were able to hear me. This orgasm was hard and fast, crushing into me like a rogue wave. Thranduil still kept his pace, thrusting into me, roughly praising me: “That’s it, darling. Ride it out. You are doing so good. Looking so fucking beautiful.” And I could feel my cum leak on his lap, drawing lush sounds from my core.

“Meleth!” I cried out, now completely kicked out of reality.” Crying out in desperation I reached out for him. Thranduil gave into my pleading, leaning forward again, pressing me down with his full body, effectively caging me in between his hot chest and soft mattress. “Yes…” I mewled, wrapping my legs around his waist, feeling him thrust much deeper into me. I was again babbling absolutely unfiltered: “Don’t stop, meleth. Makes me feel safe. So good. Thank you.”

“Of course, darling. Everything for you.” His voice sounded strained and I realized that he was close as well. “Its okey. You can let go.” I tried to get the words out straight, but another moan rippled through me, him groaning, desperately gripping a pillow. “No. I am not finished with you. I want you to come with me.” The pure determination and love in his words, striking me deeply, so that I couldn’t help but, whimper again. I earned a soft bite on my shoulder, followed by more praises: “Fuck yes… I love it when you do that. Taking me so well, moaning for me in such beautiful tones.”

Sneaking a hand between us, he pressed two fingers on my clit, sloppily rubbing circles over it. I clenched around his cock as an answer, goosebumps spreading over my skin, as he forced the fire to burn up in my body once again. A shiver ran down my spine, my walls fluttering around his cock, my legs wrapping around him even tighter. It spurred him on to fuck me even harder, his fingers moving faster, the sloppy kisses on my neck now closer to love bites than anything else. I started to shake uncontrollably, my body overwhelmed by the desire and stimulation that he had and still was administrating.

“I got you.” He rasped out and it was all I needed to hear. I came again, succumbing to a shivering mess underneath him, clamping down on his cock. “Fuck, Y/N.” He groaned and I could feel him twitch inside of me. The feeling of his hot seed shooting up my core made me whimper desperately and I couldn’t help myself but to think about what it would feel like to carry his child. Slowing down his pace, he rode out our orgasms, smothering every bit of skin with wet kisses. He was breathing hard, trying his best to catch his stance again.

Pressing me close to himself, he rolled onto his back and I was now lying on top of him. “You did so good, meleth nin. Took me so well. I promise I will always love and protect you. You are everything to me, the only thing I would give away everything I own for without batting an eye.” Listening to his sweet ramblings, I let the tears roll from my cheeks, cherishing his love and the sweet intimate moment between us.

To my dismay, it was interrupted far too quickly, when I felt the mixture of my slick and his seed trickling out of me. Wriggling in his arms, I tried to find a comfortable spot, but the stickiness just got worse. He was quick to realize what was the problem. Pressing a kiss to my head, he rolled around again, getting up from the bed. “Stay there. I will get something to get you cleaned up.”

I just watched him scramble through the room and come back with a bowl of water and a wash cloth. He looked so incredible hot like this. His hair messy and disheveled. Eyes still glowing with desire. And when he saw his cum seeping out of me, I believed to see his gaze grow even darker. I sighed loudly, catching his look with mine: “How was I ever able to deny me such pleasures…?” He laughed at my words, slowly sinking to the bed and cleaning me up with soft little touches. “From now on you will never have to. Whenever you need me, feel free to come and get me.”

“Even when you are in a meeting?” I asked and he smirked at me: “Especially then.”

[strangespector]

You Said You’d Be Here

Summary: Conflicting schedules, a broken promise and physical altercation that leads to disaster

Words: 1013

TW: Slight violence that happens by accident. Nothing major, but you have been warned.

Falling in love with Jenna Ortega was like stepping into a dream. I met her at a small meet and greet session for her book launch, in a dimly lit café. We hit it off immediately, our chemistry undeniable. The early days of our relationship were filled with laughter, late-night conversations, and stolen kisses. Jenna was everything I had ever wanted—talented, kind, and full of life.

However, as her fame grew, so did the demands on her time. She was constantly traveling, recording, and performing. The time we once had for each other dwindled, replaced by hurried phone calls and fleeting text messages. I tried to be supportive, understanding that this was her dream, but it was hard not to feel left behind.

Our first big fight happened after she missed my birthday. She had promised she would be there, but a last-minute opportunity to perform at a high-profile event came up, and she couldn’t turn it down. I spent the evening alone, my heart aching with disappointment. When she called to apologize, I couldn’t hide my hurt.

“You said you’d be here, Jenna,” I said, my voice trembling. “I know your career is important, but so is our relationship.”

“I’m sorry,” she replied, sounding exhausted. “I didn’t want to miss it, but you know how important this performance was.”

“It feels like I’m not a priority anymore,” I confessed. “Like I’m always coming second to your career.”

Her silence spoke volumes, and I knew then that things would only get harder.

The fights became more frequent. I resented her growing fame and the way it seemed to pull her further away from me. She, in turn, felt trapped between her love for me and her passion for her career. The tension between us grew unbearable, and we found ourselves arguing over the smallest things.

One night, after a particularly heated argument, things escalated to a level I never imagined. Jenna had just returned from a press tour, and I had planned a special dinner to welcome her back. She arrived late, visibly tired and irritable. When I tried to express my feelings, she snapped.

“You don’t understand!” she yelled, her eyes flashing with frustration. “I’m doing this for us, for our future!”

I tried to stay calm, but my own frustration was bubbling up. “It doesn’t feel like it! It feels like you’re doing it for yourself, and I’m just an afterthought!”

Jenna’s face twisted in anger. Without warning, she grabbed a heavy candle holder from the table and hurled it at me. I barely had time to react, and it struck me on the forehead. Pain exploded through my skull, and I stumbled back, feeling something warm and wet trickle down my face. Blood.

Jenna's face immediately changed from anger to horror. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice shaking as she rushed toward me. “I didn’t mean to—”

I held up a hand to stop her, my vision blurring. “Just... just stay away from me,” I managed to say, my voice cracking. I couldn’t look at her. The betrayal, the physical pain, and the emotional wound were too much to bear.

I went to the bathroom, dabbing at the cut with a wet towel, trying to stop the bleeding. Jenna stood at the door, tears streaming down her face. “Please, let me help,” she pleaded.

I shook my head, unable to meet her eyes. “No, Jenna. This... this is too much. I need to go.”

Her sobs followed me as I left the house, my heart breaking with every step. The realization that our love had turned toxic was undeniable. I knew then that we couldn’t continue like this. The break turned into a breakup, and just like that, our relationship was over. The heartache was overwhelming, and for weeks, I struggled to move on.

But time, as it always does, began to heal my wounds. I started focusing on myself, rediscovering passions and hobbies I had neglected. Slowly, I began to find joy in the little things again. It was during this time that I met Sabrina Carpenter.

Sabrina was different from Jenna in so many ways. She was grounded, attentive, and genuinely interested in spending time together. We connected on a deeper level, our relationship built on mutual respect and understanding. Sabrina helped me realize that while Jenna had been a significant part of my life, she wasn’t the only source of happiness.

One evening, as Sabrina and I sat on the porch watching the sunset, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. I had loved and lost, but I had also grown and found love again. Jenna would always hold a special place in my heart, but I knew now that moving on was the best thing I could have done for myself.

Years later, I ran into Jenna at a charity event. She looked as stunning as ever, her presence still magnetic. We exchanged pleasantries, and it wasn’t long before the conversation turned personal.

“I’ve missed you,” she admitted, her eyes filled with regret. “I didn’t realize what I had until it was gone. I wish things had turned out differently between us.”

I felt a pang of sadness, but also a sense of closure. “We both had to follow our own paths,” I said gently. “I’ll always cherish the time we had, but I’ve moved on. I’m happy now.”

Jenna nodded, a bittersweet smile on her lips. “I’m glad you found happiness. You deserve it.”

As Sabrina joined me, her presence a comforting reminder of the life I had built, I introduced her to Jenna. There was no jealousy, no lingering heartache—just a sense of acceptance and peace. We had all grown in our own ways, and while our paths had diverged, they had led us to where we were meant to be.

Sabrina turned to me and smiled, her eyes filled with warmth. “You know, I’m really glad we found each other,” she said softly.

“Me too,” I replied, squeezing her hand. “Me too.”

[asteroidzzzn]

dance, baby!

pairing: dancer!reader x soccer!ellie

warnings: cursing, reader is delulu and very anxious

word count: 1.6k

a/n: fear not this is definitely not a self insert bc im a dancer whattttttt lol... first fic im posting to tumblr im nervous!

summary: show days were always nerve-racking no matter what. the chaos backstage, constant injuries, and pressure to impress your instructors. it definitely didn't ease your nerves to see that ellie williams had showed up, and was sitting in the front row.

༊*·˚

while the techies adjusted the lighting in the box, you and your friends peeked through the curtains at the murmuring audience beginning to take their seats.

"oh my god, almost all the seats are full!" your friend whispered beside you.

"yeah..." you trailed off, scanning the audience for familiar faces. you giggled when jade pointed out your math teacher in the third row, and your history teacher in the fifth who had brought his two daughters.

you fell silent when your gaze fell to the first row, near the dead center of the stage. ellie williams. she told you she would be sure to come see you dance, but you didn't expect her to actually follow through.

jade poked your side when she noticed your expression.

"hey, you ok? i know it's a lot of people watching but we'll do great."

"i'm fine," you backed away from the curtains. "we should start warming up." she agreed and followed you to the green room. as you walked, your mind wandered to the last time you saw ellie.

ellie made herself comfortable by immediately falling to your bed one the two of you arrived. as you took out your chromebook and notes to begin working on your project, she studied your room.

"sorry it's a bit messy, i didn't plan to have anyone over," you softly spoke up, slightly embarrassed that a girl you just met saw the clutter in your room. especially a pretty girl.

"dude if you think this is messy, you should see mine," she snickered. suddenly her eyebrows raised at the sight of your trophies, medals, and plaques presented on the top of your dresser.

"woah, what's all that for?"

"oh, they're all from dance," you shrugged.

"no way, this one has your name inscribed on it! that's so cool."

you smiled at how amused she was. it was cute.

"are you in the shows the school does? "

you nodded and pushed your chromebook screen slightly down, finding talking to her already more interesting than the project you were supposed to be working on.

"there's a show coming up soon, actually. i'm pretty nervous. we're going all the way to the rose."

her head tilted to the side, as if to ask what that was. you explained the theatre's significance, and whatever more she asked after that. within thirty minutes, she knew all the drama between the dance team, and basically your whole backstory regarding dancing.

she gushed about soccer, and you both found you were unexpectedly very similar. extremely dedicated to your crafts, having the best friends on the best teams, and the shittiest coaches in the universe.

your schoolwork was long forgotten at the foot of the bed as you two laid on your backs staring at the ceiling lit up by glowing star stickers.

"so, your shows this weekend?"

"yeah."

"what's it about."

"ellie, it's december, and this is a dance show. think very carefully."

"umm, christmas themed?"

you laughed, "it's the nutcracker."

"that seems awesome. are you the main girl? y'know, the one that cracks the nuts."

she giggled at her choice of words while you rolled your eyes.

"no, it's always the same girl every year. i'm in the russian, snow, and rats."

she slapped the bed with a gasp and sat up. "oh my god. now i have to see it. you jumping around in a rat costume will be hilarious."

your hands covered your face as you laughed, "no, you can't go see it! that's embarrassing."

"i'll be front row recording. and i'll give money to your dance team, so you should be happy."

"ugh, i'm gonna kill myself," you attempt to sound upset at what you thought was an empty promise, but you can't seem to chase away the smile that appears whenever she speaks.

to be honest, you couldn't understand why you were so nervous. ellie was just another one of your friends at your show. nothing more. just a friend that you had talked to once. that paid $25 to see you dance. and drove 40 minutes to a fancy theatre.

you groaned. i'm so delusional, you thought. everything is fine.

you only danced in the second act, so you decided to sit backstage and read a book to pass the time.

as you lounged on a prop couch, you heard a shriek coming from the wings. you placed your book down and cautiously entered sidestage, and a small crowd started to trickle in.

your heart dropped when you saw jade wincing and sobbing while clutching her ankle. your instructor barged in behind you, shoving past the group of worried girls surrounding jade. the show was only on the party scene, where jade—who played fritz and many other important roles in the show—just ran off.

"what is going on here?" she hissed, grabbing jade and pulling her into the green room.

jade sniffled as she stumbled through the door. "i twisted my ankle...i'm sorry."

the instructor sighed, attempting to release some tension.

"don't apologize, it happens. but who will be fritz for the rest of the show? you're also the lead for russian, so you need to get to teaching one of your friends your choreography and quick."

jade nodded rapidly.

you were both terrified and honored that you were her first choice as an understudy.

jade hugged you one final time in the wings before your cue.

"you're gonna do amazing," she whispered in your ear, rubbing your back soothingly. she pulled away and squeezed your shaking hands.

"you know this. you're the fastest learner i know. go out there and kill it."

you shut your eyes and exhaled. you nodded and turned away, prepping to run onto stage.

the overhead light turned purple. yellow. white. you were on stage. it was thrilling. horrifying. the lights blinded you as you kept your eyes as far away from the audience as possible. as far away from her as possible.

but you couldn't resist. you desperately needed to know what ellie looked like as she watched you.

her eyes sparkled under the lights. she was dangerously close to you, leaning forward in her seat, which allowed you to catch a glimpse at the hint of a smile. she seemed utterly entranced by you.

but, you allowed yourself to look for a second too long. as you attempted to rise onto the top of your box to finish off the last set of turns in the dance, the stage failed you. your foot slipped out from underneath you and you came tumbling down, landing on your back.

you swiftly rose up, placed your arms in the ending position, propped one knee up, and gave the audience a smile, as if it was the plan all along to end up on the floor.

you rushed side stage after curtsying a final time, and your lungs felt as if they were on fire. tears stained your perfectly made-up face, and your head spun.

it was extremely embarrassing that the only thought on your mind at the time was about ellie.

you needed fresh air.

the halls were crowded with dancers rushing towards the lobbies to greet their loved ones that came to watch. you pushed through the people and pried the back door open.

you let out a huge sigh of relief as the cold wind hit your face. you slowly sunk to the concrete and rested your head on your knees, attempting to take deep breaths.

after about ten minutes of intermission had passed, you shot up, realizing you almost fell asleep. the past few hours were packed with so much stress it had you completely exhausted.

you pressed your hands on the floor and stood up, reaching for the door back into the dressing room. you paused when you saw someone peek around the corner of the brick wall.

you froze when you saw ellie cautiously step into the breezeway, holding something in her hands. oh my god. did she get flowers?

your mind rushed with questions and thoughts, simply staring at her now standing in front of you, flowers in hand.

you decided on, "those for me?"

ellie chuckled nervously.

"yeah, i saw everyone else getting them, so i figured i would too. they were pretty cheap and they're the same color as your tutu..." she gestured between the blue flowers and your costume, "i thought you'd like them. i know it's only the middle of the show, so it's actually kinda weird, i guess, but..." she appeared unsure of herself as she spoke. you hoped she could see the harsh blush that suddenly grew on your cheeks as a sign that you loved them.

"i- wow, thank you. trust me i don't think it's weird. i didn't even expect you to show up, to be honest..." you grabbed the flowers and began fidgeting with the petals.

"well i'm glad i did. it's really cool. and the snow part was beautiful."

you scoffed. "yeah, i'm sure i was the most gorgeous dancer on stage with that graceful landing."

she frowned when you quickly wiped your eyes. "you're really hard on yourself, i thought it was still great. and you pulled it off better than i ever could've."

you tilted your head down to hide the smile growing on your face, leaving a slight pause. "i should head back now, i'm sure my friend jade wants to see me."

she nodded and stepped back, swaying on her feet. "yeah, yeah... i'll... see you later, good luck." she began walking to the front of the auditorium.

"thank you again, ellie," you called out to her before disappearing behind the metal door.

as soon as you entered the dressing room, your back pressed against the door, hands clutching the small bouquet, and heart racing.

what was that!?

༊*·˚

a/n: aw they're awkward everyone point and laugh! this was supposed to be a one shot, but i got carried away, so part 2 soon! any feedback is greatly appreciated (*^▽^*) also fun fact this whole thing is based on how my friend got asked out by their now gf, how adorable i love them. for reference, i imagine ellie and reader in this as 15,16,17 ish so in high school, but u can picture whatever floats ur boat, it's just a more innocent and lighthearted little story (✿◠‿◠)

[saturdaynightghostclub]

Highway Hypnosis

Chapter 9: Cicely

I met an old woman in a movie theater queue in Chicago right after I graduated college. She was there alone, like me, trying in vain to make her day mean something. I noticed her immediately; in a sea of denim and cotton, she was in a sundress and sandals, the kind you wear to wade through a river when you’re hiking. She noticed me too, though I’m not sure what it was that stood out about me. She asked me where I was from; for some reason I didn’t strike her as a local. I leaned into it, just for a secret to keep, and told her I was from Seattle. And what a coincidence, she was too. “In my past life,” she explained, “I was a mermaid. It kills me to be out here with no water.” I reminded her of Lake Michigan, and she just shook her head. It wasn’t the same.

That woman stuck with me. Maybe I was projecting onto her, but I swore from that moment that I could feel her living deep inside the throes of my body, with her fist curled around my spine, dictating my every move with a benevolence I resented. I grew restless, too big for my mother’s home and entirely too small for whatever lay beyond its front door. There was an inevitability to the woman’s words; she and I would make it back home. Maybe we’d go somewhere and be mermaids together, just jump into the freezing northern waters and reject the world that had brought us up.

As I emerge from the Evergreen river’s icy current, I wonder if this counts. Is it that you can’t be a mermaid in freshwater, or is it more a matter of affinity? Regardless of how the movie theater woman would answer, I think she’d be proud of me. For some reason her hypothetical opinion of me matters more than I’d like to admit.

Jasper’s sitting on a large rock on the river bank, letting the late afternoon sun evaporate whatever cold water is left on his skin in transcendent drops of gold. He spent the night at my place last night, high on life after cracking the library code mystery. There have been remarkably few times throughout my life when I’ve been completely, genuinely at a loss for words, but waking up in his arms this morning was one of them. His face is turned toward the sky, and then suddenly it isn’t. I swim leisurely toward him as his gaze focuses on something on the beach towel to his right—my cell phone, I realize, which must mean it’s ringing. By the time I reach him and haul myself up onto the rock beside him, it’s almost too late. I don’t bother with the caller ID in my hurry to pick up the call, and the regret that washes over me immediately after the damn thing goes live is palpable.

“There you are! Thank goodness, Andie, do you know how many times I’ve tried to call you?”

“Mom? What’s going on, is something wrong?”

“Is something wrong?” My mother asks, incredulous, as if I should already know. “I have called you eight times, Andrea. Eight! And you haven’t picked up once. Care to explain?”

I don’t, but I’ll try. “Service is spotty up here, I honestly didn’t realize you’d even tried calling,” I say, followed by a weak “sorry, Mom.” I realize I’ve unconsciously pulled my knees to my chest, a position I often assume when talking to my mother. A therapist I once saw said it was part of a fawn response, which I suppose is understandable aside from the fact that it happens even during the most benign conversations.

“I don’t want your excuses, it’s not why I called,” she snaps. I figure it would be better to just let her talk, as anything I have to say past this point will be under the lens of her scrutiny, so I wait for her to continue. “I’m coming up to visit,” she says, “on the first of September. I’m staying four days, and I’ll need a ride to and from the airport.”

“Okay,” I say, cautiously, “will you send me your flight details in a text so I know what time to come get you?”

“They’re in your inbox already,” she replies, sounding exasperated. Once again, I guess I should have read her mind. Silly me. I inhale, sitting up straighter as Jasper slides an arm around my waist, his hand coming to rest on my hip. I’m not sure if he can hear anything more than my side of the conversation, but he seems attuned to my stress regardless. I cover his hand lightly with my own, resisting my body’s urge to move closer to him.

“Okay, I mean—,” I start. I can’t exactly tell her not to come; I can’t even lament that she didn’t warn me further ahead of time as, per her own testimony, she tried. “—Okay. I’ll see you soon, I guess.”

“Don’t sound so eager, it’s only your mother,” she replies sharply.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” I sigh, “I’ll see you in a week. Can’t wait.” She hangs up the phone without saying goodbye. Manners only matter when it’s mine that are lacking. I set the phone down, staring straight ahead for a moment as I close my hand around Jasper’s, lacing my fingers through his.

“Your mom?” He asks after a beat, in his soft way which, infuriatingly, makes me want to simultaneously tell him my deepest secrets and break down sobbing in his arms. How on Earth does he do that?

“Mhmm,” I hum, deciding on a dime to keep the conversation light, “she’s coming up in a week. She didn’t tell me why.”

“Sounds like a real piece of work,” Jasper says, leaning in to kiss my temple before I finally look at him.

“Yeah,” I nod, “you could say that.”

I don’t know if it’s residual teenage rebellion or the fact that I know inherently that my mother will hate him or what, but in this moment, looking at Jasper, I’m hit by a wave of Something that knocks the breath out of me completely. He is truly, completely perfect.

It occurs to me that I’ve been staring at him a moment too long when, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead, he says “What?”

I kiss him, and his small noise of surprise is submerged in a current of that sweet, slow darkness that envelops me whenever we’re together.

Jasper and I, in a rare moment of extraverted unison, have agreed to spend the evening with Joshy and Janie at her apartment above the cafe. It was Janie’s idea—she said it would be fun to have “couple friends,” but I get the distinct feeling she’s just curious about what exactly a relationship with the infamous Moss might look like—and, while she vaguely mentioned card games, I know for a fact she’s made no plans beyond sitting around on the floor and passing a bottle of gin back and forth. It’s a refreshingly low-stakes concept; in Chicago, if I wanted to socialize with anyone I needed to go to at least three bars and one late-night taco truck before we settled down for the night. I don’t think I’ve done the old “split a bottle of gin” routine since senior prom.

For some reason I expected Jasper to be nervous about the outing, but he’s not. He’s actually anything but. He even snagged some snacks from the general store on our way to Janie’s because “you can’t show up empty-handed, who raised you?”

The door to the apartment is unlocked, and upon opening it I’m met with an almost-tangible wave of sound. Music, laughter, pots and pans banging around in the kitchen.

“Hello?” I call, “We’re here.”

“Coming!” Janie responds, shortly before rounding the corner with two cocktail glasses hanging from her right hand. “Nice tat, Andie,” she grins devilishly, and after a moment of confusion my hand flies to my neck. I spin to look at Jasper, swatting him with the back of my hand.

“Oh my god, did you give me a hickey?” I hiss, a spark of satisfaction overcoming my embarrassment as his face flushes red.

“Sorry, sorry—ow, Jesus!” He mumbles, stifling laughter and backing away from my attacks until his legs hit the arm of Janie’s couch. “Okay, okay!” He says, finally allowing himself to laugh fully. “Okay, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again, I swear.” He’s holding out his pinky finger and, with a raised eyebrow, I link mine through it. As long as he swears.

Janie has disappeared back into the kitchen, replaced by Joshy, who’s apparently been banished for burning the popcorn. “Boys,” I say in lieu of a goodbye, sweeping into the kitchen to let them entertain themselves while I endure Janie’s inevitable bout of relentless teasing.

“I cannot believe he did that,” I mutter softly, coming to stand beside her, “I’m going to kill him. You know my mother’s coming to town in a week? Kill him for me, Janie.”

She laughs. “Spoons are in the drawer closest to the fridge,” she says. I understand her meaning; anyone who’s been the unfortunate victim of a hickey is familiar with the cold spoon trick. I search the drawer for the biggest metal spoon I can find before submerging it in a glass of ice water. Janie’s stirring a jar of something gorgeous and purple. She turns to me and says, “Honestly, I’m impressed. I didn’t think he had it in him.”

I roll my eyes. “I don’t think anyone’s given me a hickey since high school. What’s that?”

“Gin, I infused it with this blue tea stuff. It’s supposed to be good, we’ll see. So, have you…?” She asks casually.

“Yep,” I reply, trying to match her tone so she doesn’t shriek in response. It’s no use.

“Yes!” She squeaks, “How was it? Was it good?”

I feel myself flush and press the cold spoon into my neck in the vain hope that it’ll bring me back to a normal temperature. “Janie, I don’t even have the words to describe how good it was.”

“Really? Oh my god, Andie! Tell me everything, I can’t believe you didn’t text me immediately,” she says, bringing her tone back down to a whisper-shout that’s no less suspicious than her high-pitched shriek.

“It literally happened last night!” I whisper-shout in response, unable to keep the grin from my face.

“No excuse!”

“Fine, fine! ‘Kay, so first of all, he has a tattoo above his knee—,”

“Ladies?” Joshy asks from the doorway, eyebrow quirked in an amused expression. Shit.

“Coming!” Janie answers brightly, shooting me a look that says plainly “we’ll talk about it later.” I almost wish it was just the two of us tonight, just Janie and I. There’s nothing like a debrief between girls, between friends; I knew I missed having non-men around, but now that I know I have at least one to count on, it's like forbidden fruit. I don’t want to hang out with the boys, I want to dish with my friends. I make a promise to myself, then: I’ll call my college friends tomorrow. I’ll tell them everything. I won’t let go of my adolescence just yet.

[loverraccoon]

Field of Lovers

Epilogue

I felt the breeze blowing my hair in and out of my face as I laid out on my blanket. A small smile crossed my face as i covered my eyes in hopes of shielding them from the sun. I was thinking of him more than anything.

The only man who had the same effect on me as the burning sun. He shined so brightly I could barely bear to look at him. He burned me up but kept my heart warm in a gentle way. I could barely stand to be in his presence during his brightest hours but those few minutes I endured without making a fool out of myself were some of the most beautiful memories I've gained over the years.

"Tia, come inside, lunch has just been prepared!"

I sat up and looked around the beautiful country side once more knowing fully well this is my last day of peace. My current abode is my grandparents' home. They gave birth to my dear father well dear to them. Not dear to me at this age.

I recently turned 26 and all I ever hear my father and mother talk to me about is how they were married by the time I was 22. I couldn't care any less though since I find locking myself into a loveless marriage to be worse than being alone. I am actually quite happy as I am and I don't need any other man pestering me more than my father does already.

Even if I wanted to get married it wouldn't be fair. I only have one gentleman on my mind and he is far out of reach for me. My father would definitely not call him a gentleman and to be honest neither would I.

After dinner I found myself reading when my maid Rose came in. She was very endearing to me in every way. I respected her a lot and appreciated her everyday. She worked very hard for her family and husband and I longed for a life where I could work and be married. Managing a household is nice and all but i wish to work at something instead of maintaining a house and staff. I longed for freedom of choice in all matters. In matters of love and purpose especially.

Rose had a calm disposition but if I ever dared ask her about her favorite meals to prepare her face lit up with joy and all she could do was talk about her ideas or thoughts on different types of recepies. I loved her dearly even though we were what you'd barely call friends but I trusted her. She knew me well and she also never told anyone else the things she knows about me.

We suddenly heard a loud cracking sound and Rose immediately shot up and ran downstairs and I hurried after her. My grandmother came into view as she started shouting at the young maid who accidentally dropped a teacup.

"Do I pay you to break my belongings or do I pay you to keep it the same as it always was by my design?!" Her raspy voice and dark features left a hint of fear inside the maid even if she was but an old lady with graying hair. Ever since her husband died she's been a terror to the maids and this maid just made a big mistake. She should prepare to be bothered for the next few months.

After my grandmother finished reprimanding that poor maid she gestured to her husbands old office and looked me directly in my eyes. I followed her into the room and she sat down in his chair.

"My child I know things I can't hide any longer" she rested her hands on the table as she spoke to me. I sat down in front of her. I felt a looming dread creep up on me.

"Your parents are very unhappy with your marital status and they plan on sending you away to live in Laurance with your aunt." I felt my heart sink as I thought about all that I'll be leaving behind. My friends, my secrets and... Vinn.

"If I may ask why are you telling me this?" I asked holding back tears.

"Child most women my age morn their husbands and I don't. I never loved or cared for your grandfather and i regreted my marriage to him everyday of my life. Don't let some young man make you into a fool with promises about loving you forever. I told your parents to send you to Laurance." Words were bursting off of my tongue but before I could speak my grandmother continued.

"Marry a rich man who can keep you happy. Don't fall for the tricks your heart tells you. I want you to have a better life than I did. You're such a smart girl and deserve freedom, don't suffer your whole life with a man who doesn't care about you for nothing." She said holding back tears.

I knew grandfather wasn't a good man but it was painful to see the mark he left on this woman.

"I love you grandmother but my life shouldn't be in your hands." She stood up with an expressionless face.

"You can have your own opinions and I'll have mine" she looked out the window blankly. She had no direction, no goals and nothing to live for in our eyes. We were very alike in that sense. I'm not sure where I'm headed. I do as I please and have nothing in my life that is mine.

That night I slept knowing fully well that next week was my last week of freedom. It was all but rash but I wished to tell Vinn everything that happened. If I see him at all that is.

The next day I set off on my way home to Florian. A new future is dawning and my static life has been turned upside down.

[walkingstackofbooks]

DS9 3x13 Life Support thoughts (I'm re-watching, so there may be future spoilers)

Unlucky 13 indeed...

"In fact I was thinking of cancelling them." Jake's so sweet :3

What else do you eat in a Klingon restaurant apart from gagh? Clearly I am uneducated in Klingon cuisine

"Move! Move!" Is it always like this, living on a space station? Always interesting to see things happening from a civilian pov

Odo informing Kira <3

Her unhappy little pacing :( 💔

This is such a serious scene but I cannot take the doctors seriously ever in those red surgical costumes

Julian's face of bad news is just something so important to me

Wait Bareil's dead? I thought this episode was about keeping him alive?

"I did everything I could." "I know you did." My heart...

"I appreciate your concern but I'll grieve in my own way in my own time." The way her voice is cracking.. this scene just destroyed me

"We're ready to begin the autopsy, Doctor." ... the way he just stands there

"You say that so calmly, but it's not every doctor that can lose a patient and then has him back on his feet in a few weeks." Sisko sounds so proud and impressed <3

"Well, I and the Prophets, were lucky..." :3

"And I am grateful you were not yet taken from us, Vedek Bareil." YOU'LL FORCE HIM TO DIE SOON, WINN. SHUT UP.

"So, are we going to be playing springball next month?" Kira being so pleased to see him is breaking my heart. It's not fair.

Jake being so nervous to tell Nog he's skipping on their plans but Nog being immediately like nah dating is more important. He's a good friend :3

Ohhhh, nope, he just wants to have a date too, welp

"Just promise me you won't do anything to embarrass me." Oh no, it's this episode

Julian coming in looking grim and glaring daggers at Winn

Oh. Bad news.

"In your condition, it could even be fatal." "But it would allow me to function normally for the next few days?" Dammit, Bareil, don;t choose this

Ohhh, Julian. He has such a troubled face <3

"There are no Bajoran prisoners." HAH, a likely story

Detainees? What happened to swift Cardassian justice?

"What... sort of property?" (This space station for instance?) This is the right question to ask

I don't think the Cardassians are doing this in good faith...

"He's up to something." For once, Winn, I agree with you!

"If he dies, then peace with Cardassia dies with him." Sisko's eye roll at that was impressive

Ughhhh Nog is horrible

Pause pause pause. I can't watch this scene.

Nooooo. The second hand embarrassment for Jake is too real.

I know they eventually grow and get past this but this is so awful agggghgh

Okay. Let's go again.

Those girls did the right thing. Proud of them for standing up for themselves.

"His attention has been wandering. He's in pain. Give him more of the drug." You horrible, horrible woman. You don't care about him one whit.

"Now, you can either leave here willingly or I'll call security and have you thrown out." "You won't need to call them. I'll do it myself." KIRA <3 <3 <3 Please bodily throw this woman out of your station.

"Put yourself in the hands of the Prophets, Bareil. They will not forsake you." YOU MANIPULATIVE WOMAN I HATE YOU

I mean, it is very much Bareil's choice it seems and not just Winn forcing him herself, but she should have SOMEONE who is capable of doing the role Bareil was playing rather than having to run him to his death

"He should be awake within the hour. Oh, good. There are still several points I have to discuss with him before the next negotiating session." Your oh good should be followed with concern for his health not satisfaction you can keep politicking with him!

"I want you to tell him that you don't need him." Julian is just so good

"Now, if that's a lie, then so be it." "That doesn't sound like a Starfleet officer." "I'm a doctor first."

Sisko being a good dad <3 Telling Jake to talk this through and recognising how important Nog is to him.

"Do the surgery, Julian. Let him finish what he started." Oh Kira, I'm sorry you're in such a difficult position <3 You're doing great, sweetie <3

"I want to be arrested." XD Odo's face of confusion is marvellous

Odo is enjoying this way too much

"When you touch me it doesn't seem real." Oh Kira. how do you cope with something like this?

His out of touch acting is sure something

"I guess I just forgot you're a Ferengi." "You forgot? To most people, the lobes are a dead giveaway." XD This episode being saturated with these two's nonsense sure is something

I really like the moral of respecting each other's differences, and that humans aren't automatically right and better, but in this particular episode it's also kind of icky.... It's taken me a while to put my finger on it, but I don't think humans should have to respect the ferengi's misogyny, just because it's their culture. Your right to have your traditions respected ends when your traditions hurt or harm other beings.

"Great, so we both disgust each other." XD

"I don't want to lose you as s friend." awwww

"Now can we get out of here?" "Sure. Odo? Odo? He's just playing around. Odo!" Do you boys even know Odo? XD

I'm glad the treaty was signed at least. I've been so worried his death would be for nothing.

"I can't imagine what I've done deserves celebration." Oh, my love. you're too good.

Jadzia hugging him :3 He should get more hugs. Look at his lil face

"Kai Winn, allow me to introduce Kai Winn." "I don't understand." "In honour of the occasion, I've named my latest creation after you." I really can't guess how she'll feel about that.

"I won't remove whatever last shred of humanity Bareil has left." I wonder how close this hits with his own feelings of not being human due to his augmentations?

"Sure. You've got your peace treaty, your place in history. You don't need Bareil anymore." SAY IT, KIRA. GO FOR HER

"I share your pain." SHUT UP. The hell you do!

"Julian, you can't give up now. You have to keep going." "Nerys, if I remove the rest of his brain ... He'll be dead. And I'll be the one who killed him." This conversation is KILLING me. These two. Both of you having so many feelings. Oh my darlings <3

"But if we do nothing he'll die." "That's right, he will." I cannot. His voice is just too gentle. I love him

What I don't get is why didn't they ask Bareil while he was still conscious what he would want to do if the other half of his brain failed? I guess Julian probably wouldn't have wanted to risk hearing the request to replace the whole of his brain....

"I just wish we'd had more time for us." 💔 Oh, Kira.

" I realised you were just as confused as the rest of us. You just accepted your confusion better than anyone I've ever known. That's when I realised I loved you."

This episode is just. Feels. I'm crying. Nerys and Julian, my beloveds.

There are quite a few fics about this episode, but this one was just SO good, it read as a completely believable, canonical part 2, and I have to share it.

[kainicowrites]

Forging Sparks pt. 3

“Remember, use only the skills I taught you. Only use your powers if you absolutely have to. It will give you away otherwise,” Hawx whispered from beside me. 

We were standing outside of what was suspected to be an opium den. Four months of training later, Hawx finally deemed me ready for an actual mission. Hawx’s mother, the General of the Collective Species Army or CSA, caught wind of this supposed den and the opium peddlers who ran it. Our job was to go in quietly and take out the peddlers with as few casualties as possible, while also protecting the innocents.

I followed Hawx’s lead, several others behind me as they picked multiple locks and we snuck into the small hidden door that led to the cellar. The immediate scent of incense crawled up my nose and down my throat, suffocating me. The extreme use of incense was most likely a way to cover the smell of the opium smoke that was heavy in the air. 

We shuffled silently along the left wall, but quickly froze when there was the sound of a door opening and footsteps on the stairs. 

A halting hand and a hushed, “This one is all you, Sparks.” 

This would be the first time truly facing someone without using my lightning and I couldn’t help but doubt my ability to do it. Though, I knew Hawx would have my back if I needed them.

The female orc that appeared was petite with large tusks that were barely visible in the dark cellar. I held my breath, stalking silently across the space between us, pouncing before she realized she wasn’t alone. With a swift flat-handed hit to the neck, the female went down. 

I breathed a sigh of relief as Hawx’s hand rested on my shoulder, “Well done. You have successfully secured your first prisoner without any assistance from your magic. Help me tie her up.” I had to admit, it felt good not to rely upon my powers. 

Once the orc’s hands, feet, and mouth were bound, we secured the cellar and made our way up the stairs. Voices seeped through the cracks around the door, the smell growing stronger, threatening to gag me. Having learned the floor plan from an anonymous insider, we knew where they were extracting the opium and where individuals were partaking in the vile drug. 

Hawx carefully cracked the door open and I noted the scattered individuals. A fae and an elf at the extraction table, three more orcs sitting on a couch, talking amicably, and more disembodied voices coming from other rooms. The smoke was a visible cloud infiltrating every corner. Quickly shutting the door, Hawx delivered a hushed plan, denoting who each of us would take down. 

Electricity boiled in my veins, but I had to keep it under control. This was my opportunity to prove to myself and Hawx that the sometimes infuriating, yet invigorating months of training were worth it. 

The next several minutes were a well-choreographed blur of sneaking and incapacitating our respective opponents. Not once did my fingers so much as tingle with a spark. The two side rooms were even easier, most of the individuals in them innocents, only guilty of getting swallowed whole by this drug. 

Zero casualties, eight prisoners, and six innocents later, we were on our way back to the two wagons we stashed for just this purpose, a cool breeze on my damp forehead. The air around me sweet after the suffocating den. 

Hawx sidled up next to me, a firm hand grasping my shoulder, “You did great, Sparks. I am proud of you. You helped change many lives today for the better.” 

I met Hawx’s gaze and didn’t bother trying to hide the smile that came to my face. I never knew pride could exist without immense guilt.

[somedepressedgirlontheinternet]

The reflective mirror look walls bounced off each other in the compressed, chaotic yet isolated room. The silk toned magenta colour matched the tone of the circumstances in which I found myself; bland, unapologetic and unforgiving - somehow still leaving more to be desired, in this case, to be known. 

Facts are very plain, in their nature they are descriptive; we use percentages and fancy numbers to shine them up to the masses, but they lose their impact in some sense. When you read that 19.86% of the population suffer from some range of mental illness at any given time, you think wow, that really doesn’t seem like that many. Those results must mean people improve, it would have to be much higher?

We forget that the population includes babies, who let’s face it, don’t do much or have complete cognitive understanding of what is happening around them - how would they know if they were depressed? The majority of mental illnesses occur after puberty, so already we are chucking anyone aged under 18 out of that pot, then we need to think about the people who don’t consider themselves to have mental illnesses, the older, greater generation. The generation who lived through multiple wars and turned to LSD and MDMA at some point in their lives and drinking heavily to forget their trauma. Very progressive.  

With that taken into account, we are then left with 19-50 year olds; 19.86% of the population, estimated to be between the ages of 19-50, suffer from some range of mental illness at any given time. A rate which is not measured consistently, I am not liking my chances here. They seemed great before, I could have seen them being advertised in a shop window, guaranteeing a great pay out! But now, now I am feeling overwhelmed. Now, I am feeling the freeze of the yellow stained tiled floors. 

Why are they stained yellow?... Why, are they stained yellow? Oh god. 

The shelves above lined methodically with clear plastic cups, with uniformed coloured lids next to an outdated model of the female reproductive system. 

The muffled sounds of concern and distress are bouncing off every surface, ricocheting towards me with a numbing embrace. The muscles in my neck tensing as I slowly turn to face her, tears in her eyes and crumpled tissue in hand. My arms are too heavy to lift, I want to hold her, I want her to hold me. She embodies a worn and depleted marble statue, rigged and compromised, too stiff to move or change.

Echos are growing louder and I can almost make sense of the words, the mans lips swaying and lifting apart as crashing waves, moving me and swaying my senses back to reality. 

“The important factors that will affect your daughter and support her at this stage is a stable routine; involving a regulated diet and daily exercise. I cannot advise that we start medication immediately, but if you feel as though she is erratic and unmanageable, we can cross that road when we get there. 

I think we should get her booked in again for a few weeks to see how she is coping with the changes, I’d like for you to attend with her as well, so I can get an honest report of how she is progressing with her news”.  The clacking of keys cementing each and every consonant. 

“Does that sound like a good plan Isabella?” 

The muffling stopped. 

I clenched my jaw and tried to swallow the rock in my throat. A short cough followed. 

“Yes. Um, I-I can do that… Ca-can you bring me back again. Please?” The state cracking and turning towards me as I coughed my words out.

“Of course we can” a short sniffle to be followed by an immediate posture fix and forward lean “Are you sure we shouldn’t try medication immediately?” 

[narrans]

Wizard of the Wood | 8 | Bonding over Brothers

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

7

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

A groan? Maybe a moan of distress? His groggy mind could not put it together. It sounded close, but distant at the same time. Why did it sound familiar?

Then, a shout.

“Let me go!... please…” It made him jump, but his body refused to open his eyes and truly wake from his restful slumber. His own mind made him doubt whether he heard anything. Was it really? Was it a dream? Where was it coming from? Why did it sound so close?

Then – scratching.

Quick, intentional scratching.

Rylir’s journey to consciousness was blissful and uninterrupted except for that odd bit right before he woke up. It must’ve been a dream, or at least the end of one.

Still… it sounded so close.

The warmth of the furs surrounded him, and he enjoyed it wholeheartedly. It was a welcome wake up call from the morning before when the Wizard of the Wood forced him from his warm bed on the shelf to accompany her on an herb harvesting venture.

He was not bitter about accompanying Essie on the trip. In fact, he was grateful Essie was willing to teach him and bring him along. Still, it was hard to abandon a perfectly good bed to enter the frozen forest.

He would just study a little harder today, and he would try to remember more of the “proper names” of the herbs and plants. It was the least he could do for Essie. Perhaps she would be pleasantly surprised if he memorized the information quickly. It would take effort, but it was the least he could do.

The smell of fresh cut wood lingered in the air as did the smell of chamomile tea. The warmth from the crackling fire coaxed him out from under the furs covering his bed.

The scratching continued as Rylir carefully leaned over the shelf ledge to see Essie writing feverishly.

Always writing.

Always awake.

He stifled a yawn and stretched as big as he could before leaning over the ledge again and looking at Essie.

“Good morning,” he called down, unable to hide the yawn immediately following that statement.

“Morning,” acknowledged Essie as she barely flashed a glance at him before continuing her work.

“Busy already? You really do not understand the concept of sleep, do you?” teased Rylir, trying to start the morning off with a little bit of humor. It wasn’t a departure from how he greeted her some mornings, but something seemed a little different. The giant sorceress seemed distracted by something weighing on her mind; and, rather than quip back, promptly responded by giving a half-hearted shrug as she worked.

“There are far too many items to accomplish to allow myself to maintain unconscious for extended periods of time,” stated Essie. Rylir picked up on the subtle difference of her tone. She didn’t sound irritated, but there was something there that made her words sound weighted – like there was something on her mind that she was unwilling to talk about.

Although he wanted to ask, Rylir didn’t feel like he had the courage to ask; or, rather, he did not think he had the right to ask. They had only known one another for a short amount of time and asking what was on someone’s mind and expecting an answer felt presumptuous.

Her words also reminded him of what his older brothers would say.

The day is only so long.

Chores are not going to do themselves.

These contraptions of yours will not build themselves, and we certainly do not know how to put it together. Hop to it!

“You sound like my brothers. Always busy. Always working. Up at the crack of dawn every single day.” It was completely involuntary, an accident, but Rylir spoke out loud. It was meant for himself, but Essie heard it all the same.

She wasn’t sure why she stopped writing. It was such an off handed comment that, on any other day, would not have gained her attention. Still, there she was sitting at her desk, writing implement in hand and letting the ink branch across the parchment, latching onto Rylir’s comment about his brothers.

She remembered Rylir saying something when they first met about having no family now, hence why he elected to stay here with her until he thought of a place he wanted to go or had someone he wanted to visit and stay with instead. At the time, she did not think about pressing him further for information. It wasn’t relevant and she hadn’t anticipated him staying for this long.

But now, hearing this comment, some form of curiosity peaked inside of her. She swallowed dryly, removed her writing implement from the parchment, and folded her arms across her chest.

“Brothers?” she asked quietly, something that shocked Rylir slightly. He wrestled himself out from under the furs until he reached the edge of the bookshelf.

“What? Sorry, I didn’t catch that,” apologized Rylir as he took note of Essie’s body posture. Essie cleared her throat, eyes distantly focused on the parchment she was writing on before, and clarified her question.

“You just said brothers, that I sounded like your brothers. How many brothers do you have?” asked Essie. Her question took him off guard and brought a pang to his heart, but what fascinated him more was that she was asking him a personal question about his life and his family.

“Um… Four. Four brothers, and an older sister,” answered Rylir as he remained propped up on one elbow. He passively scratched at the edges of his nails, an unconscious nerve calmer. “I was the second youngest in the family, so a lot of the jobs went to my older brothers. They were going to be in charge of the land first, so they took on more of the chores.”

“Four brothers and an older sister? Quite a large family,” replied Essie. “You had land?”

“Yeah, we did have a lot of land; or, rather, my parents did. It was meant for farming and harvesting, sometimes livestock of other families nearby,” said Rylir. “They did a lot of the work, but I always wanted to ease up their workload, so I made contraptions to make things go quicker. My sister always teased me that I was just trying to get out of work, and my brothers said if I wasn’t working with them that I should hurry and make my devices so they could take a day off.”

“Contraptions? Like the ones you made here?” asked Essie. Rylir grinned and dared to push himself up and dangle his legs off of the bookshelf. He kept his hands firmly planted as a counterweight in case he felt like he might slip.

“Yeah, some of them. There were wheels that were turned by the stream and by these big sails on really windy days. I had a lot of designs and things I wanted to build, but I… I just ran out of time,” said Rylir.  

There was flutter in his chest at his diaphragm. It had been such a long time since he thought about his siblings in depth, let alone talk about them. He let a breathy chuckle slip, which caught Essie’s attention. Her ice shard like eyes flicked up to him for the first time since this interaction.

“Funny, I haven’t talked about them in so long.” Rylir reached up and rubbed his neck awkwardly, averting his eyes from Essie’s ice shard blue eyes.

“Why? What happened to them?” asked Essie, her demeanor shifting from curious to that same direct tone Rylir was familiar with. It was like she was bracing herself – preparing for his response, which made both of them.

Rylir took a moment to take a deep breath before nodding a few times and, adopting Essie’s same direct tone, replied, “They got sick. Everyone in the town came down with some weird illness a few days after I left. I offered a trade, my labor for some spare parts and scrap a neighboring farmer had. So, I left to get parts from a neighboring farm and came back after the sick was everywhere. I barely left in time and recovered, but...”

Rylir didn’t feel like he needed to continue, and thankfully Essie didn’t press him further. He let his breath calm and that unease in his diaphragm settle before looking down into Essie’s eyes which hadn’t left him since she looked up.

There was something there.

Sympathy?

Remorse?

Connection.

There was something in her eyes that made him feel like, for the first time, they had something in common. It was just a spark, barely discernable and only there because he knew what to look for. He wasn’t sure how to pinpoint it, but he did know it made him feel better.

“Sorry,” he said, chuckling and turning away awkwardly. “Um… do… do you have family? Siblings? Parents?”

Rylir watched it happen – a wall in her eyes went up. The air tensed, like she was guarded, but not because she was distrustful of him. Rylir wasn’t sure what it was, but it was present all the same.

Before he knew it, Essie had taken up her writing implement once again and started writing again.

“No. I don’t have anyone. Just my mentor, Kaven Ardox,” she said quietly. Rylir sighed. Did he press his luck? Couldn’t hurt, could it?

“What was he like? This Kaven guy. Was he… like you?”

“No, he was…” Essie stopped herself mid-sentence. How could she describe Kaven? He was a lot of things, and the time spent with him was considerable. She elected to go for the straightforward approach. Just the basic facts. “About your height, perhaps a little shorter. He had a talent for the arcane and taught me what I know about magic. He didn’t have much of a sense of humor, but he knew how to help me make sense of what I found confusing, if that makes sense. He knew how to talk to me. He was… well… honestly, he was like you.”

Rylir felt his mind reeling to go in every direction, but the biggest thing he noted was the last part.

“Like… me?” He felt flattered, though it was short lived.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I’m looking for a baseline comparison which we both possess a frame of reference for. There is no reading between the lines here,” Essie stated.

Though she had attempted to dismiss the statement, Rylir couldn’t shake the feeling she meant that involuntary complement.

Now he definitely had something to prove today while he was learning.

Determined, he pushed himself up and got to work. Those herbs weren’t going to learn their own names.

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Continue

Previous

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One Shot | Wizard of the Wood

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Ask Me Anything

[eddiebillysteve]

a/n: this came to me at 4am last night and i had to write it and now i'm posting it because i think it's low key funny af if i do say so myself?? find it on ao3 here.

tl;dr: max gets her period for the first time while hanging out with most of the party and chaos ensues bc three 13 y/o boys not knowing what periods are?? good god. steve harrington has to be called in for backup (as always).

***

Max had scoured the Byers bathroom, had dug through every drawer, but there was nothing. No pads, no tampons. She momentarily debated on stuffing her underwear full of toilet paper and making a run for it, but she was supposed to call Billy to pick her up and there was no way in hell she was risking bleeding through it and onto the seats of his car. 

Shit, shit, shit. 

With no other option, she opened the bathroom door a crack. “Lucas? Can you come here?”

School had only been out for a couple of days and they’d already broken up and gotten back together once. They were currently on a high spurt, but they weren’t overly obsessed with each other like Mike and El were, either. She hadn’t even seen either of them since the last day of school, the two of them always holed up in El’s bedroom. 

“You’re being summoned,” Dustin giggled, half pushing Lucas as he got up from the couch. Lucas waved him off and made his way to the bathroom door. 

“What’s wrong? He raised his eyebrows at max through the crack of the door. 

“Can you, like, ask Will where his Mom keeps her pads?” Max murmured to him. 

“Pads? Like, notepads?” Lucas’ eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“No, you idiot. Period pads,” Max rolled her eyes. “I just started. I don’t have anything.” 

“What’s a period pad?” Lucas didn’t sound any less confused than he had two seconds earlier and Max let out a huff. 

“You cannot seriously tell me you don’t know what a period is? Do you even listen in biology?” 

Lucas shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe I was sick that day.” 

“Just go and ask him, would you? And be quiet about it. Don’t let Dustin hear.” Max shook her head and slammed the door shut again. 

Will and Dustin were bent over a book when Lucas returned. Dustin had originally meant to go away to camp for a month at the beginning of summer, but he changed his mind. Wanted to spend more time with the party and Steve, who had quickly become his best friend. 

They glanced up when Lucas returned; he went straight to Will, leaning to cup his hands around his ear to whisper to him. 

“Whoa, hey!” Dustin immediately reached out to shove at Lucas’ hands. “You can’t just go and tell Will a secret when I’m right here, asshole. You have to tell me too!” 

It was Lucas’ turn to roll his eyes, but he didn’t fight him on it. “Will, she wants to know where your mom keeps the pads.” 

“Pads?” Will had absolutely no idea what he was talking about, either, and it made Lucas feel a bit better. 

“Yeah. Like, for periods.”

“What the hell is a period?” Dustin asked then, just as confused as the other two boys. 

“I don’t know. She said we should have learnt about it in biology?” Lucas’ answer came out as a question. 

“Uh, yeah, no. I’d remember if we did,” Dustin got up. He had to know what it was now; there couldn’t have been something science related that he didn’t know.

Lucas and Will got up and followed him to the bathroom. Lucas was the one to knock, though. 

“Where are they?” Max called out. There was some shuffling, and then Max opened the door a crack again. She should have known she’d be greeted with all three of them. “Oh, for God’s sake.”

“What’s a period? I would remember if we learned about it,” Dustin immediately asked. 

“Jesus, this is not happening right now,” Max sighed heavily. “You know, it’s when you bleed every month? Every girl gets it.”

“Bleed? You’re bleeding?” Lucas immediately asked, concerned as ever. 

“Are you okay?” Will’s voice was next, laced with worry. 

“You have to put pressure on it to stop—“ Dustin started, but Max cut him off. 

“God, the three of you are useless. I’m bleeding from down there. I just need a pad or tampon or something to use until I get home, okay? Just—“ Max didn’t even know what to tell them. They were more clueless than she was. 

“You’re bleeding from your vagina?” Dustin burst out, voice higher in his panic. “That can’t be normal.”

“Should we call an ambulance?” Will added. 

“Oh, God. She can’t die,” Lucas’ hands went to his forehead, holding his head for a moment.

“I’m not dying!” Max said, but their panic was making her panic. Maybe it wasn’t her period, maybe she was dying. 

“Lucas, stay with her. Put pressure on it. Make sure she doesn’t bleed out,” Dustin’s voice shifted into a very no-nonsense one, ready to take charge. “We’ll find something.” He grabbed Will’s hand to yank him back towards the kitchen. 

“Don’t think you’re coming in here. You can wait out there,” Max said to Lucas before shutting the door again. 

In the kitchen, Dustin scrambled to get out the phone book. 

“What are you doing?” Will burst out. 

“What do you think? I’m calling Steve!” Dustin flipped through the pages in a hurry, looking for the Scoops Ahoy number. Steve was working, just like he did most days, but it was always just with this girl that was pretty cool, so Dustin didn’t think he’d get in trouble for calling. 

A woman’s voice picked up on the second ring. “Ahoy there, you’ve—“

“Robin,” he cut in, voice frantic. “Put Steve on. It’s a red alert. 9-1-1.”

“Which kid is this?” Robin immediately asked, startled by the panic.

“It’s Dustin! Put him on!”

There was a few seconds of waiting before Steve was answering the phone. 

“What’s wrong? Where are you?”

Even though Steve knew very well that most of Dustin’s emergencies were never actual emergencies, he took every single one seriously. He had to after everything that had happened; any day there could be a hellish sequel beginning.

“It’s Max,” Dustin nearly panted into the phone. “She’s bleeding out. All over the place.” 

“Why the hell are you calling me instead of 9-1-1?” Steve burst out. 

“She said not to!” Dustin’s voice shifted into a whine. “She said it’s her period, but—“

“Her period?” Steve blinked.

“Yeah, she said she’s—“

“Dustin,” Steve covered his eyes with his hand, his heart starting to slow back down to a normal rhythm again. “You’re calling me because Max got her period?” 

“She could be dying, Steve!” Dustin’s voice was almost a shout. “She said she’s bleeding! It’s internal! That shit is serious!” 

“Henderson, listen. It’s not serious. It’s not internal bleeding,” Steve tried to sound as serious as he could but he so badly wanted to burst into laughter. It wasn’t their fault, they were four kids home alone and he was glad they thought to call him, but it was just a funny situation. “Just— calm down and hang on. Alright? I’ll come with some stuff. Stop freaking out. She’s fine.” 

“But—“ 

“No, no buts. She’s fine. It’s normal,” Steve insisted. “Seriously, Henderson. Chill out. Give me, like, twenty minutes. Are you at Mike’s?”

“No, Will’s. Mike’s too busy sucking El’s face off to hang out with us anymore, remember?”

“Right, yeah,” Again Steve had to try not to laugh. “I’ll be right there.”

When he hung up, he headed back out to the front of the parlor where Robin stood, though there were no customers, thankfully. “What the hell was that? Kid sounded like he’d run a frickin’ marathon.” 

“Max got her first period and Dustin is convinced it’s internal bleeding. You wouldn’t happen to want to deal with this, would you? It’s a girl thing, and you’re a girl,” Steve waved his hands around a little as he spoke. Robin would know what to do, what products to buy. He knew enough about periods after being with Nancy, but he didn’t know anything about first periods and what you were supposed to buy specifically for that occasion. 

“Uh, no,” Robin laughed. “This is all you, dingus.”

“Well, can you tell me what to buy, at least?” Steve pulled his hat off, flinging it at her before reaching for his bag.

“I think it’d be funnier to hear what you get when you come back. Don’t take long, I want to go on my break,” She snickered at him and Steve rolled his eyes before leaving.

Luckily, Starcourt had everything inside of it, including a pharmacy, which was where he went. He had bought tampons for Nancy once before, had no shame in buying it like other teenage boys, but she’d given him the exact brand and size and it’d been a matter of finding the packaging and getting out of there.

This time, he had absolutely no idea what to get. His solution, he decided, was to buy one of everything. One of every brand and every size, both pads and tampons. The total came to nearly fifty bucks and he had two bags full of boxes, but he didn’t care. 

Dustin was waiting outside for him when he pulled up. “She’s weak, man. I don’t know if she’s going to make it.”

“You’re an idiot,” Steve rolled his eyes and moved past him to go inside. Dustin trailed after him like a puppy. “Max?”

Lucas was still outside the door, the two of them talking through the crack and giggling over something, but it stopped when Max heard Steve’s voice and his footsteps coming up the stairs. “You called Steve?” Her voice was a screech. “I could have just called my Mom! Why the hell would you call Steve?”

“Woah, hey. Rude,” Steve scoffed. “I know about this shit, alright? I dated Nance for ages. Here. Look through these and figure out what works. I’ll show Lucas how hot water bottles work.”

Max shifted behind the door, hiding herself, and opened it enough that Steve could slip the bags in. She let out a groan over how mortifying the entire situation was. 

“Is she going to be alright? Will that stop the internal bleeding?” Dustin asked when the door clicked shut.

“Dude, it’s not internal bleeding. I mean, I guess it is, but it’s not that kind of internal bleeding,” Steve ushered the three boys downstairs. “It’s like… shedding. The girl parts inside, they shed, and then it comes out as blood. It’s all about eggs and shit. Did they not teach you this in bio?”

“What biology classes did you and Max go to? Jesus!” Dustin shook his head. “Because it sure as shit isn’t the same as mine!”

[sukirichi]

black magic [01]

REQUEST. arranged marriage + enemies to lovers (sukuna is a simp and lowkey a housewife)

CONTENT/WARNINGS. some suggestive scenes, but overall fluff and romance! slight crack fic, I guess? I was laughing when I wrote this lol

NOTES. I NEED A HUSBAND! SUKUNA I’M GOING TO CRY GOODBYE THIS HAS ME SOFT. also anon i’m not sure if you wanted something with more ~sexual tension~ since this is kind of just comedic, but I hope you like it anyway!

part one | part two (nsfw)

“This is new,” you comment with a glare, your ankle propped on Sukuna’s knee.

“Shut up,” he rolls his eyes, pushing your skirt aside to clean the wounds you attained through exorcising curses. You’ve taken a particularly strong curse today and you’re caught off guard, barely finishing the mission unscathed. Limping all the way back home isn’t easy especially since you live on top of the darned mountain, but if Sukuna’s going to kneel in front of you like this...maybe it wasn’t too tough a journey. “You should stop going to missions you’re not ready for. Look at you, all wounded and bloody.”

“You sound like you care.”

“You’re my wife,” he huffs while dropping the bloody towel on the floor. Sukuna wraps the bandage around your ankle and carries you bridal style even though you’re perfectly capable of walking, but he shoots you a silencing glare. You’d have knocked him in the face any other day, but he’s particularly warm and smells nice today – plus you’re beat – that you bury your face in his chest, ignoring that stupid fluttering in your stomach. “Of course I do.”

You snicker, mind tracing back to your earlier years of this dreaded marriage.

It definitely wasn’t the best – the memories blurring between strangling each other to making out as if breathing was never a thing – and it felt like forever ago when you first met him.

You’d never say it out loud, but... you don’t regret this arranged marriage. Not when Sukuna is tucking himself beside you on the bed, your head above his muscular chest a place similar to home. He covers both your bodies over with a blanket, pulling your body closer to him with a strong arm, his lips pressing onto the crown of your head.

Ugh, you think to yourself, giving in to the need to cuddle your husband after a long day of work. You still refuse to say it out loud, though, and you irk him further by muttering, “That’s not what you said two years ago.”

“I wasn’t in love with you then.”

 “I refuse to be married to you!”

Sukuna fights back the urge to cover his ears. Ever since your clan decided to visit his land and started exorcising curses one by one, his life has been nothing but hell. Not only are your relatives the most arrogant people ever with a consistent god complex, they just had to let their little mortal child be in charge of taking on the stronger curses. Seriously, what were they thinking, sending you – who’s barely even out of their training bra years – to deal with curses like him?

Everyone knows Sukuna is a no bullshit man. He won’t hesitate to cut your head off the moment you came raging at him, but then he sees how young you are and decides to send you back to your family.

Expecting that everyone would just call it a day and he’d get offerings for his unexpected mercy, Sukuna is beyond stupefied when they send you back to his temple, all dressed pretty with a basket of fruits and flowers braided in your hair. He remembers growling because you look adorable, but that’s easily wiped away when you open your mouth, your voice scratchy against his ears as you stomp your feet like the young mortal you are.

Sukuna pushes a thumb to his forehead to ease the impending headache, and that’s just from your presence. Something inside him tells that you’re going to be a bigger pain than you look.

“You don’t have much of a choice. You should’ve thought of that before deciding to run rampage over my land,” he reminds, turning boredly to his lone servant from above his throne. Sukuna isn’t impressed, to say the least, especially with your clan’s audacious proposition to gain his favour just this once. “Is this really the woman you bring me – the one they insist to be my wife?”

“She is their best fighter, my Lord.”

Well, he can’t disagree to that. You did, after all, single-handedly give him a cut on the cheek. “She’s feisty indeed.”

“Don’t talk as if I’m not here!”

“Mouthy too,” he mumbles to himself, but your sorcerer senses are sharp and easily picks up on it. He sees you flush angry again, looking immensely adorable with your tiny fists clenched like that and he snorts, waving a hand in the air. “Whatever. Get the wedding over with,” he nods to his servant, his sigh loud and tired as he makes his way to you.

You don’t stiffen at each haunting step, his eyes only glimmering harder with entertainment. It’s rare to find a mortal that doesn’t quiver at the sight of him, the urge to break you only growing stronger.

Even as he cups your face, making sure to not let his claws dig into your precious skin, Sukuna smirks. You’ll be entertaining indeed.

So Sukuna makes a promise, four eyes surveying the way your body is starting to fill in curves at the right places, the swell of your flesh just perfect in his hands... He chuckles to himself, daunting you further as he leans down to your ear, taking pleasure in the slight way your breath hitches. “Maybe then I’ll get to teach you a lesson or two.”

You’re definitely something else, taking advantage of each presented opportunity and not wasting any time before you make your move. Right after the wedding and everyone’s left, leaving you alone with your new husband behind closed doors; you push him until he’s on the ground, legs straddling each side of his hips while you growl above him – the sound similar to a battle cry.

Sukuna merely smirks, barely moving a muscle as his large hands come up to rest on your hips to steady you. “I’ve imagined countless ways you’d be on top of me like this,” his eyes light up with humour upon feeling the cold blade on his skin, “None of them included a knife on my neck though.”

“Shut your mouth. I will kill you myself,” you warn, pressing your knife harder until it draws a slight tinge of blood.

You hardly look threatening above him like this, dolled up to look the best in your wedding with this cursed being. If anything, you look more divine than deadly, and Sukuna thinks that perhaps your beauty could be your best weapon. You are bewitching, after all.

“I refuse to be your Queen and sit next to your throne.”

“Then why didn’t you stop the wedding?”

“I—”

Sukuna’s teasing grin grows wider when you pull back, trying so hard to not trip over your words. It takes all of his self-restraint to not take you right then and there, but he does a good job of holding back, enjoying this view above him instead. “Could it be you’re attracted to me after all, hm, little one?”

“Do not test me, Curse. I’m more than capable of exorcising you myself.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that. You’re the strongest in the Gojo clan, are you not?” he prompts to appease you, “I don’t even want to see what you’re capable of, but maybe, just maybe...” just as his eyes darken, the edges of his lips turning up into a smirk, Sukuna digs his claws into your thigh in a possessive show of ownership, a painful reminder that you’re his now. “...You could put on a little show for me?”

“I hate you!”

Experienced and strong as you are, you’re nothing compared to a thousand year old curse who’s killed a lot more people faster than you could blink. Sukuna immediately notices the animalistic way you draw your blade, arm swung back with rage written all over your face. Before you could so much as bat an eye, he easily switches the positions until you’re under him, using only one hand to pin your arms above your head, your blade effortlessly thrown to the other side of the room.

“As I thought, you’re a lot prettier under me like this,” he observes, roaming his eyes shamelessly over the fabric clinging prettily to your body. You’ve fallen silent at his unconcealed attention, your compliance enticing him to lean closer just to inhale your intoxicating scent.

“Not so feisty now, little one? Where’d all your hatred for me go?” Sukuna pulls back with widened eyes, “Oh? Am I hearing it wrong or is your pathetic human heart beating so loud right now?” You refuse to look at him, wriggling your hips in an attempt to leave, completely unaware that the mere movement is hypnotizing the curse above you. Sukuna grips your hips in warning, not wanting to destroy you – not now, anyway. “You know all you need to do is say it. I’d gladly take you right here and then.” His words spoken with that deep, throaty voice immediately sends a wave of heat down your core, but you turn away from him, breathing hard and nervously; something Sukuna picks up on in an instant. “Little one...have you never had a man hold you like this before?”

“N-no...”

“I see. Pure and innocent behind that ferocity, huh?” He surprises you by pulling away, smoothening his white robes down as he leaves you panting still on the floor. “Fine. I won’t touch you unless you ask me to.”

“I’d rather die before that ever comes out from my mouth.”

“We’ll see about that,” he smirks, winking at you before he shuts the door. “Little one.”

There’s a lot of weird – and utterly inconvenient things – about being Sukuna’s wife. The man eats everything, absolutely everything, and it doesn’t help that he sucks at hunting too. For a man so huge and burly, he sure is lazy, preferring to do the laundry in the riverside instead while you go out every day to prepare your meals.

You actually don’t mind, but it’s very fun to complain around him.

You’re on your way back to the temple when Sukuna grabs at you, making you drop the freshly caught birds onto the ground. Your brows furrow, about to scold him for being too eager again when Sukuna stares at your arm, his lips pressing into a thin line.

Following his line of sight, your lips form an ‘o’ shape. There’s blood trickling down your forearm from his claws accidentally cutting you, guilt written all over his face. Another weird thing about Sukuna is that he babbles a lot when he’s emotional, and you’re too tired to hear him beat himself over it that you just drag him inside your room, sitting his ass down before taking a clipper.

Sukuna scoffs when you start cutting his nails. It irks him that you don’t even bother wiping the blood off first and he tsks, eyes narrowed at you. “You should have thicker skin.”

You roll your eyes as you file his nails; you’ve been married to him long enough to know it’s his way of saying sorry. Not wanting to let him wallow in guilt any louder, you pad kisses over his knuckles before swiping the black ink off your desk, using a pen brush to colour your nails instead. Sukuna hovers behind you, head tilted to the side as he watched you. “Are you painting your nails black?” he utters in disbelief, trying to ignore the fact he feels...proud and even a little smug. “Not so fitting for the angelic sorcerer now, isn’t it?”

“I’m only doing this so you don’t feel left out.”

“Maybe I’ll add markings to your pretty face too,” he cups your jaw to make you turn to him, landing a solid kiss flat to your lips which makes you sigh, pretending to be annoyed but leaning over for another peck anyway. Sukuna laughs and pulls you onto his lap, kissing your neck this time around, a little annoyed that you don’t stop in brandishing your nails. “Wife, what do you think?”

“I have work, Sukuna. You flirting with me doesn’t change the fact I need to go.”

“Come home safe for me, at least?” he breathes down your neck, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You’ve definitely changed since the first time he’s met you, starting from a mean (although he stands strong that you are still mean to him sometimes) temperamental little one to a mature, stronger sorcerer who’s secretly weak for his wife.

Unable to resist him as always, you turn around once you’ve finished painting your nails, rubbing your nose over his until your strong, scary husband is turning into putty at your hands. “Of course I will,” you peck his lips one last time, Sukuna’s eyes closing as he dives in for a deeper kiss. “I’ll always come back home to my handsome husband.”

If anyone were to ask how it’s possible that the King of Curses is actually very soft for his sorcerer wife, everyone would claim it’s impossible and a heresy – but if you ask Sukuna, it’s probably just black magic doing its wonders.

[savorysatori]

— 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄, 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘. ✗

“choke me, spank me, look at me, thank me.”

— sypnosis: working as a maid in a new house is very exciting, you get the money and everything goes well. although, once you’re introduced to the son of the parents, everything goes down hill.

cw, warning: size kink (?), creep!ushi, pictures without consent, nipple play, gn!reader, non-con, somnophilia, sloppy sex, dry humping, praise, panty stealer ushi.

% wc: 2234.

↷ a/n: y’all have no idea how long this was sitting in my drafts, for fucking 5 weeks plsssss- anyways I hope you all enjoy! this was rlly fun to do. also! shoutout to daisy, this collab was really cool! congratulations on 1K bb. <//3

— @daisy-bakugo, PORNSCAPE EVENT! ilyy.

You were everything he wanted, everything he fantasized about.

[1,000.]

That’s how much they were paying.

It was enough to have you accept the job immediately. It was enough to have you choose between two of the slightly revealing maid dresses and enough for you to be standing in front of the wakatoshi mansion. Briefcase in hand with a bucket of supplies you were instructed to bring. Everything was just right, you were prepared to clean, everything would go well.

The frilly material of the skirt swayed around your thighs and glided against the softness of your thigh-highs. Glistening jewels of your gold bracelets glimmering in the hot sun shining down on your skin. The thin line of thread held up the damp clothes, shredding any of the excess water soaked into them. All of the Wakatoshi’s clothing were fancy. Gold lining stitched in the middle or at the end of the cloth, it was clear they were wealthy. But, it somehow amazed you when your eyes glided to the very end of the line — some shirts & shorts were childlike. Pictures of guns and cars were painted onto a black shirt, it looked like something a 5th grader would do. ‘Maybe they had a child?’ You didn’t know, you only met the parents. Folding up the dry ones, you’d stuff them into the cart and push them towards the other line of clothes swishing in the breezy wind.

You finished doing the daily chores, slipping into their kitchen that was designed well with a beautiful interior. Cold marble was felt up against your skin as you tipped the bottle of wine into your glass, clacking against it. Your glossy lips propped up against the cup and took small sips of the fruity flavor. It slid down your throat and surged a zing of bitterness back up to take in the taste, so sweet and yet so unpleasant at the same time. You’d lick the juice off your lips and place it down steadily on the counter, looking up to see a heady gaze sharped on you.

6’2 and steady build towering over you with dark olive hair — was the wakatoshi’s son. Ushijima Wakatoshi.

Your body stayed still, unmoving. He wasn’t anywhere near a 3rd grader - more like a full grown adult. Tongue peeking out from your teeth to lick the dryness seeping between the cracks, your eyelids hooded.

“Uh- Hello! You must the wakatoshi’s son, I’m the new maid.” Extending your hand out to meet his; his hand stayed at his side, not seeming to shift to engulf yours. You’d drop it back beside you and nipped at your lip when the silence between you both continued.

“Well, I’ll see you around. Nice to meet you.. Ushijima! Your parents told me about you.”

You’d excuse yourself away from his intimidating gaze and close the door behind you. Maybe it’s a good idea to introduce myself another time.

The same look from before followed you out of the kitchen, watching you as you’d take up the laundry basket. His eyes kept gawking at your every move. Staring with every bit of emotion nobody could decipher, Toshi wasn’t a very talkative man and it was visible. He situated himself in the shadows and looked from above, staying out of any scandals his parents were exposed to. He did keep his eye on you. Stepping out of his secure area and making every note to try and approach you without seeming like a creep. His creep intentions did creep up back into his system when you started staying at his house, sleeping in a guest room 8 feet away from his room. It was easy; so easy to sneak into it when the moon raised in the dead of night.

Soft thuds of his feet against the carpet thankfully didn’t alert anyone, giving him the time to steal peeps at your sleeping state. Comforter pulled up. Oversized shirt to cover up the intimate parts of your body he dearly wanted to explore. Soft breaths left your pink lips to breathe it in again, his cock stirring at the sound of it. Toshi knew what was right from wrong, he knew that doing something like this would cost his life — but, dear god you were everything he dreamed of. He couldn’t stop now.

His calloused hands raised the shirt for him to be able to see your tummy, sliding his fingers down to the waistband of your panties. They were so simple and adorned your skin beautifully, keeping the heat between your legs warm just for him. His free hand unzipped his jeans and let them pool at his ankles, such as his boxers. You stirred slightly at the foreign touch, brows creasing forward. He stilled until you relaxed back into slumber, his fingers separated your thighs, and slowly slid the oozing head of his cock between them.

“Ah, princess, f-fuuck.” breath ragged, eyes shut closed to take in the bliss. Contentment streamed through him, his hips rocking against you to feel more, more of you. He was greedy. Toshi was insatiable, he wanted everything of you. He didn’t just want — he needed you. It was a plea. A whine for you, a need. The selfishness ran through his family, that’s how he inherited it. From his family. Was he ashamed? No. Not when you felt so good right now, not when he was about to reach the orgasm he was climbing to.

Sweat fanned down his toned chest, abs glistening with droplets of precipitation. His hips rocked forward one last time, cum spurting from his head and between the soft flesh of your thighs. It was sticky and slimy, rolling down to cover every little spot.

The sight of you sleeping soundly while his cum leaked from between your thighs, made the flaccid touch of his cock stir. You were just so pretty, a pretty little something he wanted to scoop up for himself. And he would do it with no trouble whatsoever. His hand slid down to grab his phone from the floor, lying face down. Toshi aimed right in the frame, snapping a picture for later. He stuffed it into the back pocket of his jeans and scurried away from your room, not bothering to clean up the mess of his dry cum smeared on you.

Pressing the ‘start’ button you watched the clothes in the machine swirl with bubbles of soap clouding over them. One hand on the machine and knocking it occasionally to make it turn on again. “Barely working.” You’d mutter.

Despite the Wakatoshi’s being filthy rich, their laundry room wasn’t at all cooperative. There were brown pieces of wood peeling off the wall with stains of what seemed to look like dry substance splattered on it. A bunch of plastic bags and socks were pushed to the corner of the room, dirty ones to be exact. Not much laid in the room other than the things you had listed — except for the posters of lewd manga hanging from the cluttered shelves.

The cool air of the basement door opening brushed up against you, your eyes drifting to see who it was. Standing there was Toshi. He was still wearing the same clothes from yesterday. His expression was the same as always, stern and uninterested. You were both met with the silence from yesterday, uneasiness creeping up back to you.

Bothering not to talk, you turned back to the machine to see it at twenty-one minutes. It was almost done and you could leave to wrench away from the awkward silence you were sitting in. You could still feel his presence, you knew he was there and it was uncomfortable. So many questions were left unanswered in your head, you couldn’t understand them.

The back of your skirt was flipped up to meet your back, his clothed length pressed against you. He was hard. There was no doubt he wasn’t big, and that was what made your eye sockets almost swell out. He slowly rocked the fabric of your panties along with his bulge. Fingernails digging into your hip and pushing you up more to gain more access and spread your legs.

“Ushijima-“ words of confusion scrabbled out from your mouth quickly, “w-what are you doing?”

“Shh.” He jabbed the curve of your back and made you lay pressed against the cold exterior of the rattling washing machine. His words flustered you, it provoked you to stay quiet. You had never heard his voice before and a situation like this only shook your brain into a deeper hole of complication. “J-Just — let me do this, let me try it out. Once.”

And you did. You let him try it just once, you let him delude into the fantasy he had been dreaming of. You let him do it. Once.

You calmed down from the aftershock of his tongue sending you to see stars, arms jerking when the feeling of his hot touch pressing your face against the door of the machine. Your fingers tightening around the handle and pulling on it slightly, cheeks swelling up with heat. The sounds of your whimpers and tiny jolts sent him to push along more, arm encircling around your stomach, his voice breathy against the shell of your ear. You were like a succubus, a being he couldn’t leave nor escape, so alluring, sweet and he had just met you not too long ago.

The smack of his cock meeting his stomach caused you to crank your head back, looking over to see a beautiful sight. Ushijima’s cock was thick, curving gently upwards. The skin was a light shade of cream, and the head was large, pink, expanding tip. “Ushi-“ your voice was wavery, unsure paring with it.

He’d shush you again, angling your leg up as his lips pressed a kiss to your glistening cunt. Toshi took notice of your expressions when he slid into the warmth delves; brows creased together and little words scampering out from your lips. Latching onto the handle and pulling it ever so often when he hit a certain spot, whenever the tip of his cock caressed against your cervix- it was so beautiful seeing you be reduced to a quivering, blubbering mess. A surreal sight he would only see.

“You’re so damn tight. So wet, so willing.. just like that baby.” The pump of his hips made you lose yourself over and over again, a mixture of sounds that were all kinds of slobbery and slurred due to your dizziness. His pace picked up with renewed energy, slick and wet sounds fill the air, sweaty bodies clamping against each other. The whines and pants of his name being drowned out, so pathetic- clinging to the latch and crumbling under his touch. It drove him like a mad man, his brain clattering, the way you took him in with no problem amazed him, you were so inviting and supple.

“S’too b-big! Ushi- ah! -“

The whines of him being too big impaled itself into his brain, your shivering body and cunt wrapped around all together had already made him blank out, now with your pleas, it caused a switch in his head to flip and jack-hammer himself into you. Pump after pump. It made your eyelashes flutter with droplets of tears risking to stream down the fat of your cheeks. His hands holding you firmly, brows furrowed with grunts flowing into your right ear. A grunt rippled from him as his cock throbbed harshly inside you, the feeling making him come undone right there.

“Just like that, ah, fuck you make me feel so good.”

Wrinkled skirt falling to the floor, his cock pulling out of you slowly with globs of cum dribbling out of you, he’d shuffle around till you faced him fully now with a perplexed look on your face. The shirt becoming loose as Toshi’s lips wrapped around the sensitive nipple, suckling and easing any leftover moans out from your throat. His hands placing you on the machine and attaching his lips back onto your nipple, tongue flat against your sweaty skin.

“Fuck, U-Ushi! holy- fuck, just like that.” Your back straining as you leaned back, gasping and threading your fingers through his hair to balance. Toshi wasn’t one with words, his statue being quiet and still. But, words poured out from his lips at the sound of your moans, when you were so good for him.

“So, good.. pretty. pretty, like a beauty.” He pulled off of it with a squelch, standing up high and cupping your chin to stare in your love drunk eyes. “You were so good for me, yeah?”

You nodded, vision hazy and eyes occasionally blinking to peer up at him with a blurry image. Your head rested in the crook of his neck, sniffling as he picked up the soiled panties from the floor and stuffed them into his back pocket. They were red and pink, swirly designs on them, he found them so cute. He slid your legs around him and walked out of the room, leaving the washing machine to rattle in the background with soap and water overflowing onto the ground.

Ushijima just couldn’t leave you after that day, he stuck to you like glue. Who could blame him? You were everything he wanted, everything he had fantasized about.

[starks-hero]

I Missed You

Pairing: Stucky x Fem!Reader

Request: Hi! Could you write something about Stucky coming home after a mission to find their girl crying on the couch, late at night. They are worried, initially, but relax after she shows them a video on her phone of a cute dog or puppy? - anonymous

Summary: After one long and tiresome mission, Steve and Bucky want nothing more than to go home and cuddle up with their girl.

Word Count: 1,424

Warnings: fluff

Steve and Bucky laboured up the stairs towards their apartment, their shoulders brushing. Every single muscle ached and Steve couldn’t bite back a groan each time he was forced to put pressure on his left foot. 

They didn't say much, they were too tired for conversation. They just wanted to get home, change out of their gear and then crawl into bed with their girl.

As both men reached their door, Bucky all but collapsed against the wall as Steve fumbled with the key, lazily dragging it across the wood till it slipped snugly into the lock.

Bucky's eyes were closed but a tired smile tugged at his lips at the thought of you waiting for them on the other side of the door. He wanted to hold you so bad. To just gather you up in his arms and fall asleep with your hand gently running through his hair until the latest mission was nothing more than a distant memory.

He titled his head lazily and glanced at Steve. The blonde's expression told him he felt the same way.

As the door opened, both soldiers almost tripped over each other's feet as they hurried inside, Steve softly closing the door behind them. Bucky sighed dramatically as he was surrounded by the comforts of home, earning him a half-hearted glare from Steve.

“Quiet down, Buck. It's late.” He reminded him. “She's probably asleep.”

Bucky nodded, scratching at his beard as he followed Steve into the living room. The television was still playing lowly in the background and the boys glanced at each other questioningly. Soft smiles replaced their confused expressions when their eyes landed on the couch. Amidst the darkened room and the heaps of blankets and pillows, they could barely make out your form.

Bucky wasted no time in stepping towards you with Steve hot on his heel. God how they'd missed you.

“Hey, doll.” Bucky hummed gently. “Hope you don't mind that we made it home a little earlier than expected.”

The playfulness in his tone died out immediately as he neared you. The light illuminating from the television proved to be just enough for Bucky to make out your tear-stained cheeks and his heart almost stopped.

“Doll, what happened?” He immediately rushed to your side, hand hovering over your back as he looked you over for any sign of injury. Steve leapt forward at Bucky’s worried tone and joined you both on the couch. You frantically wiped at your eyes, trying to hide your tears as both men seated themselves on either side of you.

“Stevie, Buck-”

“It's alright, Sweetheart. We're here.” Steve comforted gently, arm wrapping around your waist as he carefully guided you into his side. “What's wrong?”

You breathed out a quiet laugh as you wiped away the last of your tears. Both Steve and Bucky were staring at you intently.

“I just missed you both,” you mumbled and you heard the boys breathe a sigh of relief. Bucky moved closer and gingerly kissed your head as Steve held you.

“We missed you too, Baby.” His hand comfortingly ran down your back, his nose grazing your jaw.

Steve placed his own kiss against your cheek and you smiled. You were sandwiched between them both, exactly where you wanted to be.

“You want to tell us what's got you so upset?” Steve urged gently, raising his eyebrows and smiling softly. The same way he always did when either you or Bucky were having a bad day.

You shook your head and waved your hand dismissively. “It's stupid, Steve. Besides, I'm fine now, it doesn't matter.”

“Hey now, don't talk like that. If it's upset you then it's not stupid. Not to us.” Steve's tone was soft and encouraging.

“Steve, I promise, I'm okay.”

Before Steve could pry any further, Bucky cut in, gently nudging you in the side.

“This wouldn't be the reason for those tears, now would it, doll?” He held up your phone for you all to see, the screen still paused on the video you'd been watching before they'd gotten home. Bucky seemed slightly amused but Steve was still staring at the screen in curiosity, confused as to what about such a wholesome video had made you so upset.

You snatched the phone from Bucky's hand and he let you. Any other day he probably would have held said phone just out of your reach, forcing you to stand on your tiptoes or press up against his chest to retrieve it. But he knew better. Now wasn't the time. Not to mention that if he did Steve would probably make him sleep on the couch as punishment.

You held the phone in your hand and refused to meet either of their gazes but Bucky was quick to snap you out of it.

“Y/N, you know you can talk to us. However simple or stupid you may think whatever's upsetting you is, you know we're here to listen.”

“Always.” Steve agreed.

You grumbled before giving in. You knew neither of them were going to leave you alone until they were sure you were okay.

“I've just been feeling down since you guys left for the mission last week.” You confessed and both men glanced at you sympathetically. “I missed you both, tonight especially. So I tried to watch some cute videos to cheer myself up and-” you glared at the adorable shepherd puppies currently gracing the phone screen. “It didn't help.”

“Sweetheart,” Steve started gently once you'd finished. “We told you to call if you needed us. Even just to talk or fall asleep with us on screen.”

“I didn't want to bother you when you were on a mission.” You admitted sheepishly and both men chuckled slightly at your words.

“Mission or not, it doesn't matter. You're our priority. Always.”

Steve released you slightly from his hold so that Bucky could pull you into him. You sighed against his shoulder. The horrid feeling that had settled in your stomach the moment both Steve and Bucky had walked out the door a little over a week ago was already dissipating. This was exactly what you needed. They were exactly what you needed.

“Why don't we take this to the bedroom?” Bucky suggested as he noticed your head contently lulling against his shoulder. He scoffed as both you and Steve turned to him with an expression that asked ‘really?’

“I meant to sleep.” He clarified and Steve couldn't help but chuckle.

“Sure you did, Punk.”

Bucky opened his mouth to respond but you ended the argument before it could start with a quiet, “Sleep sounds like a good idea.” You threw in a yawn for good measure.

Bucky wordlessly nodded to Steve and they smiled. Bucky readjusted his hold on you as he lifted you from the couch and into his arms.

Steve switched off the television and assured the house was locked down for the night as Bucky carried you to the bedroom. He gingerly placed you down before stripping and clambering in next to you, his aching body almost sinking right into the mattress.

A cool mental hand settled on your waist as you rested your head on his chest. Steve wandered into the bedroom a few minutes later, smiling softly at the sight of you and Bucky curled up and already dozing off.

He kicked off his boots and pants and pulled his shirt off over his head. Sliding in behind you, he slid an arm over you, resting it just over Bucky's stomach. You were perfectly encased in-between them both.

“Steve, Bucky?” You mumbled their names quietly just as they were on the brink of sleep.

“Yeah, Sweetheart?” Steve rasped and Bucky hummed against your temple.

“Can we get a dog?”

You could feel the chuckle that shook Bucky's chest at your request and Steve cracked a tired smile, shuffling closer to you.

“Think about it, that way when you two are off saving the world I won't be so lonely here on my own.” You rambled on drowsily.

“She makes a compelling case, Stevie,” Bucky smirked, cracking open an eye to glance over at the blonde. He couldn't keep the amusement from seeping into his tone.

“We'll talk about it in the morning, Baby. Just get some rest for now.” Steve yawned, nuzzling into the crook of your neck to silently put an end to the conversation.

“That's a yes.” Bucky clarified and Steve harmlessly jabbed Bucky in the gut, electing a fond chuckle. You smiled, just glad to have your boys home.

tag list: @miraclesoflove​​ @doozywoozy​​ @bakerstreethound​​ @kealohilani-tepise

[talesofstyles]

Good Morning Indeed

absolutely no plot whatsoever, just a bit of husband and dad harry in the midst of the family’s morning chaos 😂

Harry

“Go get the condom on.”

“I’ll pull out, I promise.”

“Your pull out game is weak.”

“Oi, them’s fightin’ words.”

“There’s a reason we’ve got six kids.” Says the missus with a roll of those pretty—but sometimes deadly (please don’t tell her I said this)—eyes. “‘Sides, I’ve just changed the sheets yesterday. You are not coming on the sodding sheets.”

“Fine,” I sigh and reach down to the bedside table. Why is the drawer filled with sodding Duplo and those tiny, pricey Sylvanian Family bunnies? I’m guessing kid number two, three and four have something to do with that. A few more seconds of rummaging before I finally found my treasure in the very back of the drawer. I lay on my back as I sheath myself up, and seeing as I’m already here… might as well, right? I smirk at her as I say, “hop on then.”

“Fat chance that,” she mutters. “Do I have to take off my top?”

“Nah,” I shake my head, it’s cold, and I’m a considerate husband. “A flash will do. Just give me a visual.”

She rolls up my shirt that she wears to sleep, a really old white rolling stones t-shirt that has two holes and a loose thread hanging on for dear life from the hem. She looks homeless. Gorgeous homeless though. 

“Nice,” I flash her a boyish grin, like a teenage boy seeing his first pair of tits. “You’ve got great racks.”

“You’re just saying that…”

I know what she sees when she looks at herself in the mirror and I wish she could look at herself through my eyes. 

“Hey, don’t you dare. My babies grew in that body, that’s everything.”

Her tender smile hits me right in the gut. “I love you.”

“Love me enough to ride me?” I say with a playful flick to one nipple.

“Nice try.”

“I love you,” I mutter near her mouth and give her a searing kiss. I run my tongue over her bottom lip, then I kiss her down her neck, her cleavage and her breasts. I slowly circle one nipple, and she giggles, knowing it’s a well-rehearsed move that is guaranteed to do what’s needed. See, her tits are kind of like start buttons. No matter the situation, a little attention to those bad boys switches things around real quick. Her head slams back against the pillow. And she moans, holding my head in place.

We’ve got ignition lads. 

I nestle my body on top of hers, and there’s a bit of wayward angling and poking until I find my way inside of her. And then it’s on. Two bodies writhing on the bed. My hips rotate in long, slow circles.

“Bollocks!”

“What? The condom isn’t broken, is it?”

“No, it’s bin day. I forgot to take out the recycling bin.”

“S’fine, we’ve got time before the school run.”

The bin’s sorted, back to the shag…

I slide my hands under her, bringing us closer. Rocking us faster. My forehead hovers close to hers and I open my eyes so I can watch. What can I say? I’m greedy like that. I want to soak up every gasp, every flicker of pleasure across her face. Pleasure I’m giving her.

Her breathing changes. It turns panting and desperate, and I know she’s close. I move harder, grinding against her, inside her, with every forward push. Warms sparks tickle my spine and heat spreads down until every nerve in my body is shaking. I slam inside her, burying deep as her hips jerk upward. She spasms hard around me, gripping me tight. 

I rock back my hips and pull almost all the way out, but then I freeze. Because a dreaded sound echoes across the room, grabbing our full attention. It’s coming from the baby monitor. It’s a rustling, the sound of cotton rubbing cotton. Like snipers in the jungle, we don’t move a muscle. We don’t say a word. We wait, until the rustling stops. And all is quiet again. 

Too bad it’s not for long. Because two thrusts in, a light comes on in the landing. Followed by small footsteps heading down the stairs. Shit.

“Harry, just come already. They’ll all be up soon.”

“I’m close… don’t rush it, you’re scaring it away.” 

She grinds her hips. Also another well-rehearsed move that she knows will get me off. But I freeze again, because there’s a second set of footsteps and the sound of a toilet flushing. Oh, and the babies next door are starting to whimper. 

Great.

“I’M HUNGRY!” That’s James, darling little cockblocker number four who likes to be fed on time. He’s three.

“WE’LL BE OUT IN A SECOND!” My wife shouts over my shoulder. “Harry for the love of god-”

I pick up the rhythm. Small beads of sweat form on my brow. She grinds her hips again, and I try to focus. “Just like that, fuck, keep doing that.”

“Sshh, keep your voice down.”

“IS THERE ANY BREAD THAT ISN’T 50/50?” That’s Eleanor, child number two. She’s seven, and she’s one of those children who seem to possess a discernible palate that knows when we’ve changed brands of baked beans or attempt to bring sugar-free fruit squash through the doors.

“IT’S THE SAME,” I reply.

“NO, IT’S NOT. DO WE HAVE OTHER FOOD?”

“THERE ARE SHREDDIES.”

“DON’T LIKE ‘EM.”

“PORRIDGE.”

“I’M NOT A BEAR!”

Honestly, seven-year-olds gunning for a fight this early in the morning can go do one.

The babies are starting to gather volume next door so I try to focus again. It only takes a few more thrusts before ecstasy wrecks my body, making me shudder. I press my lips against her neck as I come back down to earth. But I don’t move yet. I know we should get going because things are already chaotic outside our door, but I just don’t have the will yet. I’m considering going back to sleep for a minute or two. She won’t mind, will she? Well, I’m wrong. Because she proceeds to perform the move that seems to amuse every sodding woman on earth. And causes every man to squeal like a bloody pig. Without warning, she uses her powerful muscle to squeeze my extremely sensitive cock. 

Girls, grab a piece of paper and write this down. I’m speaking on behalf of every man to walk on earth here; we hate that. We don’t think it’s funny.

I jerk back, pull out, and roll off her. I try to look annoyed as she giggles, and obviously I fail, because that freshly fucked, flushed-face makes it impossible not to grin back.

“CAN I HAVE JAFFA CAKE?” That’s Victoria, child number three. She’s five, and she’s yelling as she thunders up the stairs. 

“JAFFA CAKE ISN’T BREAKFAST,” my wife shouts back as she sits up and hands me a nappy sack. “Harry…”

I wrap up the condom with it and toss it to the bin. “You’ve just taken me life force, woman, give me a moment.”

“CUSTARD CREAM?”

“NO.” We shout in unison. 

“HOBNOB THEN?”

“STAY AWAY FROM THE BISCUIT TIN!”

“You want to wrestle a biscuit-hunting kid out of a cupboard and 50/50 bread drama or fussy babies with full nappies?”

“Babies.” I hear a small child get whacked by a sibling downstairs and I feel like I may have got the better deal here.

Next door, the twins are not happy. They’re six months old now, and they’re both teething. Thing one glares at me as I walk into their nursery and thing two stares at me stroppily from the corner of her cot. Their cheeks are scarlet, and thing one proceeds to bark at me like a seal. I pick his warm, sleepy, cuddly body and cradle it close to mine as I lay him down on the changing table. I smell the dampness. It’s definitely wee. He’s soaked through, I think I didn’t tuck his willy in when I last changed him around three in the morning so it sprayed in some upward motion and drenched his clothes. See, this is why girls are better than boys. There’s no way they can pee upwards. 

After I put a fresh nappy and a change of clothes, I put him down on the rug so he can wiggle around while I grab his sister and sort her out. After six kids, I’m definitely a pro with baby duty and can practically change their clothes one-handed. The whole thing takes only a few minutes.

I cuddle the babies on each side as I walk downstairs and into the kitchen. They immediately reach out to their mum who’s cracking some eggs as soon as they spot her, knowing she’s the only one who can cure their hunger this morning. 

“Uniforms!” She says to the big kids as she takes one baby into her arms. “We’ll do breakfast after. Please, please, please…”

Desperate pleas lead them to saunter out and up the stairs. I follow my wife into the living room and hand her the other baby as she plops down on the couch. She rolls up her shirt and the babies latch instantly. Tandem nursing is harder now that they’re a little older and aware of their surroundings. They’re trying to scratch each other’s faces as they nurse. “Oi, what’s this? You each get a tit, stop fighting.”

They seem to somehow listen to me and have stopped trying to poke each other’s eyeballs. We’ll see how long that lasts. “Finish the eggs?”

I nod. “I’m on it.”

I brew some coffee, finish the scrambled eggs, and pop the slices after slices of bread in the toaster. Breakfast is done just in time as my wife walks back into the kitchen with two full and happy babies. She puts them in their high chairs and I scoop a bit of eggs on each of their trays for them to nibble on.

George appears back in the kitchen clad in his uniform with his also dressed brother trailing behind. We always lay his clothes the night before on his bed and he gets dressed all by himself in the morning. And he’s getting better at it, seeing he only missed a button on his shirt.

“Hi mate,” I say as I fix his button and he flashes a toothy grin at me. I plop him down on the chair, he’s graduated from the high chair now but still uses a booster seat.

“No toast!”

“What do you want then?”

“Chee-yos?”

I nod before I grab a handful of cheerios and set them on his plate next to his eggs. Then I take a few steps back across the table. “Hey, James, set it up.”

He flashes me another toothy grin before he opens his mouth wide and keeps it open. I hold a single Cheerio between my fingers while I bend my knees and bounce my hand as if I were dribbling a basketball. “Three seconds left on the clock, down by one. Styles got the ball. He fakes left, he drives in, he shoots…”

I toss the Cheerios in a high arc. It lands right into his mouth.

“He scores! The crowd goes wild!”

James holds both hands over his head. “Core!”

“Viv stole the biscuit tin, you know? She ate three jammie dodgers upstairs.” Eleanor says as she walks in with book bags and school shoes. 

George, seeing his sister walks in, proceeds to open his mouth wide and flashes her the half-chewed eggs on his tongue. It’s his current thing and it annoys his sisters to death. The young’uns think differently though as they double over in laughter. 

“Eeewww!” She shrieks. “You’re so gross!”

“VICTORIA, PUT THAT BISCUIT TIN DOWN AND GET YOUR BUTT IN THE KITCHEN! AND GO GET THEM HAIR TIE THINGIES…” 

“I didn’t have any biscuits!” She yells and runs down the stairs.

This kid is the quintessential daddy’s girl. She climbs up onto my lap right away, handing me the brush and a hair tie. 

“See, poppet, I would’ve believed you if you didn’t leave evidence all over your face,” I arch one of my eyebrows as I sweep a speck of raspberry jam on the corner of her mouth. 

“You always do a ponytail,” she huffs.

“Either that or I give you a bowl cut with kitchen scissors. I reckon that fruit bowl will do. Your choice.”

“Can I have some more eggs?” George asks with his mouth full of his last bite.

“God, that’s like your third serving,” Eleanor grumbles.

“Nag.”

At that insult, Eleanor flings a piece of toast like a ninja. Before George can retaliate, my wife gives them both the look.

“Viv, will you at least have some eggs?”

“No.”

“Fine,” my wife sighs. “I’m gonna get changed then.”

I glance at the clock and, well, shit, I should get dressed too. “Can you lot watch the babies and try not to kill each other for the next five minutes?”

“Five quid each?” Eleanor tries to negotiate. “Babysitting isn’t supposed to be free, you know? That sounds like child labour to me.” 

Bollocks. 

“Two quid each,” I give her my dad look that says the offer is final and indisputable.

“Deal.”