#and i’ll b completely honest with you. her just being ‘there’ was not enough. a parent just being ‘there’ is not fucking good enough

[sadlazzle]

sometimes i rlly wanna ask my mother if she thinks my hearing is as bad as hers bc i KNOW she is not saying half the shit she does knowing i can hear every fucking word

[illicitlimerence-writes]

teddy bears & blankets | m. verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x leclerc!reader

word count: 2.3k words

request: yes, by anon: “hear me out…single mum who’s a leclerc and max👀”

prompt: character a can’t wrap gifts to save their life. character b is their neighbor and can help. from this prompt list. not my prompts, credits to the person who created it!warnings: a baby, fluffy max, a sick baby:( language maybe, kinda angsty in the middle.

a/n: day 5! i really didn’t plan to write three kid fics in a row, but oh well. REMINDER THAT MY REQUESTS ARE CLOSED, EVEN IF IT’S FOR THE SPECIAL. pls, i don’t want to close my askbox but if i keep getting i’ll have to turn it off.

my masterlist / 25 days of christmas masterlist

he sighed, tossing yet another piece of wrapping paper aside. max was talented in many different things, but wrapping gifts just wasn’t one of them. he was already stressed enough having to buy a gift for a christmas party he had forgotten about, spending almost two hours in line at a store, and now he had no idea how to wrap this box. 

when he was sure that the paper was large enough to cover it completely, once he started placing the adhesive tape either one side was larger than the other or he placed it in a way that just didn’t work. he decided to just give up and place a bow on top. 

he put on his coat, with the gift in one hand and keys in the other. he stepped out and closed the door, and was about to place the key in the keyhole when he heard the sound of the elevator arrive at his floor. he turned his head, seeing his neighbor and her daughter.

“hi, max,” she said, waving her free hand at him, the other one was holding her sleeping child. “i thought you’d be at charles’ by now,” she smiled.

“yeah, that’s where i’m heading, i just… i couldn’t figure out how to wrap this,” he held up the gift, “but i gave up,” he chuckled, watching her shift her weight from one leg to the other, “let me help you,” he said, opening his arms to grab the child. 

when max found out a few months ago that his new next-door neighbor had a one-year-old baby he feared the worst. he was used to the peace and quiet of having a floor all to himself, and a baby would undoubtedly break that silence he cherished so much. but that wasn’t the case with (y/n) and alison leclerc. 

alison was probably the best, well-behaved child max had ever met, he was used to his nephews, rowdy and a little bratty if he was being honest, but alison was soft, gentle, not too noisy and always staring up at him with eyes that looked just like charles’.

“she’ll wake up, can you get the door, please?” she asked, handing him the keys. he nodded and opened the door for her. “thank you,” she turned on the lights, “make yourself at home, i’ll put this little one to bed and i’ll help you with that,” she smiled at him.

“oh, no, you don’t have to- i-”

“my brother has been working all day for this dinner to be perfect, he won’t let you in if you show up with an unwrapped gift.” she raised an eyebrow, “he’s been freaking out all day, so, for the sake of charles’ health, let me wrap that gift for you,” she used her mom voice, giving him one last look before walking to ali’s room.

“yes, ma’am,” max said, running to his place to grab the leftover wrapping paper. he returned just as she was walking back, still with alison in her arms, but this time the baby was awake. “what happened?” he asked, a smile on his face as he looked at the baby, with sleep evident in her eyes, her cheeks an intense shade of pink. 

“it’s like a curse,” she sighed, “right when i was placing her head on the pillow she woke up,” she placed ali on the counter, the baby immediately turning to crawl away, “nope, ali-”

“i’ll play with her, if that’s okay,” max offered. “a favor for a favor,” he said, walking to the little girl.

“what do you say ali? want to play with max?” she asked the girl, who had made her way to the fruit bowl and was playing with a small clementine. 

“mash,” ali said, trying to say max. he smiled.

max entertained the baby, letting her pick whatever she wanted to play with. she kept coming back to the small clementine, and as the girl’s mother was cutting the right amount of paper, ali handed him the clementine.

“you want me to eat it?” he asked, grabbing the fruit and lifting it up to his lips.

alison laughed, squealing and clapping her hands. 

“thank you, ali, that’s the best fruit i’ve ever had!” max opened his hand, lifting it in front of ali’s face. “high five,” he said, grabbing ali’s hand and clapping it against his own. ali laughed, doing it again and again, each time harder than the last. “ow,” he said, shaking his hand after one particularly hard clap. 

“ali, gentle,” her mother reminded her. max turned to the older leclerc girl, seeing her already done with the gift. “here you go, you’re free to leave now,” max inspected the gift, she’d even managed to make a bow out of the same paper.

“how did you do that?” he asked, staring at her in awe. she only shrugged.

“i’m multitalented,”

“can i come to you every time i need a gift wrapped?”

“yeah! we love having guests, don’t we, ali?” she asked, the girl had leaned against max’s torso, he was leaning against the edge of the counter, where ali was sitting to make sure she didn’t fall or crawl away. 

“i think she’s falling asleep.” he said, pressing a hand to the back of her head to support her.

“thank god,” she sighed, “i thought it was going to be another sleepless night.”

“she’s got issues sleeping at night?”

“lately, yeah.”

“i’ve never heard her,” max said, the leclercs apartment was always so quiet it almost felt like no one lived there.

“she’s not a crier. she just stares around,” 

“well…” he said, doubting for a second if he really wanted to say it, but he decided to do it, “feel free to stop by if you need anything. i mean it, whether it’s to entertain ali or… if you need company.”

he knew that parenting was already hard with both parents around, and he couldn’t imagine how difficult it was being a single parent. and he liked her, they knew each other since they were kids and had grown up together in a way, with her always tagging along to charles’ races and events. 

“thank you,” she said, walking closer to them, “and the same goes to you, mi casa es tu casa.” she smiled at him.

alison moved her head, extending her arms

“mama,” she yawned. 

“i think i’ll leave, she needs all the rest she can get,”

“yeah,” she nodded. “have a nice night, max.”

“thank you, you too.”

-

it was two weeks later, and again, max was struggling to decide whether he really should ask (y/n) for help. throughout those two weeks theyy had managed to run into each other more than the entire time they'd been neighbors. max would always pay a little extra attention to them, whether it was helping her with whatever she was carrying, opening the door for her, or holding alison in his arms. 

he could say that they were starting to become close friends, and after two weeks he found himself looking forward to seek her help.

he was standing in front of his mirror brushing his hair to make sure it was in place. he looked down to his bottles of cologne, and he grabbed one, how finger ready to apply it, but thought about alison, if the girl was to get close to him the chemicals from the fragrance could irritate her. 

he walked out of his room, with the roll of wrapping paper and the gift under his arm, something inside of him moved at the thought of seeing them again. 

he lifted his fist to knock on the door, waiting for the usual stomping of little feet or her soft voice. he waited a few seconds before knocking again. 

he heard soft whimpers getting louder, and soft shushing as the door opened. his face fell as he saw the state of both girls.

“what happened?” he asked immediately, seeing them both in their pjs, with alison crying soundlessly and her mother looking like she was on the verge of tears as well.

“i’m sorry, max, i- i can’t help you right now i-”

“no, no, forget about this, what’s wrong?” he asked, and right as he finished talking alison started coughing.

“she’s sick, and she can’t sleep and… god, i feel so… powerless,” she said, rubbing her hand up and down the baby’s back, “i wish i could make her feel okay but-” she shook her head, rubbing a hand down her face as tears started falling from her eyes.

“hey, it’s alright,” max whispered, walking in and wrapping his arm around her, “have you called her doctor?”

“yeah, he already prescribed the medicine, but… i don’t know what to do now, she keeps coughing and waking herself up.”

“mash,” they both looked at alison, watching her extend her arms towards him.

“no, baby, you’ll get max sick-” she explained, taking her arms down, but the baby insisted.

“it’s alright, i… i can hold her, i don’t mind.”

“but you’ll-”

“if it helps her, and you, i would love to hold her.” max said, watching ali lean herself forward. max dropped his stuff on the floor and held her. he placed the back of his hand against her forehead, “i think she’s got a fever.”

“yeah, the medicine should help with that.” she said, wiping her face with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “god, i’m a mess. let me get your things so you-”

“no, forget about that. i’m staying.”

“what? max you don’t have-”

“i want to. i won’t be able to focus on anything all night knowing you’re both like this.” right then alison started coughing again, and max rubbed her back gently, whispering softly in her ear, “there you go, get it all out. want to look at the city?” he asked, walking to the window overlooking the harbor, “look at the boats and the lights, ali…” he said, the girl leaning her head on his shoulder and yawning. “she’s sleepy,” he told her mom.

“yeah, she hasn’t slept all day. only for a few minutes before having a coughing fit every time.” she explained.

“have you called your mom? or brothers?” he asked, knowing that they would all most likely be there to help them both if they knew.

“they’re all gone. on holiday. we were supposed to join them but… well, look at us.”

“well, you’re not alone anymore. i’m here,” he walked to her, wrapping his free arm around her, careful with the baby between them. 

“you- really don’t have to do this, you had plans and-”

“and i can see them tomorrow or next week, that’s the least of my problems right now. right now you both should get some sleep. this little one is already falling asleep.”

“i just hope she can rest more than fifteen minutes at a time,” 

“you want me to lay her down or-”

“yeah, come,” she said, walking down a hallway and opening the door to ali’s bedroom. everything was decorated in neutral warm colors and was very clean.

“i think this is the tidiest baby room i’ve seen,” max said, hoping to lighten the mood. 

“you should see my room. we’ve been sleeping there since she got sick, and it’s not pretty.”

“i’m sure it’s better than my room even when i’ve just cleaned it.”

she chuckled, preparing ali’s crib.

after placing her on the bed and waiting for her to fall asleep, they both stayed in her room, with max on the floor next to the crib, ready to act in case she started coughing or woke up. they stayed there for about twenty minutes, in silence, staring at alison longingly. 

max had grown attached to both of them, and the feeling he got when he first saw them that night was something he’d never felt before. he’d felt the back of his neck tingling, his heart seemed to sink down to his stomach. 

“i think this is it,”

“yeah?” max asked.

“yeah. she’s not even moving around, she used to squirm around, trying to get comfortable but now she’s… i think she’s finally gonna get some sleep,”

“and you should get some, too,” max said, eyes widening at what he had said, “sleep, i mean- i”

“i know what you meant,” she chuckled, covering her mouth with her hand to muffe her laugh. “i think i’ll just stay here for the night. i want to be here in case she wakes up.”

“well, we should get comfortable, then.” max said, leaning to grab a big stuffed bear and placed it beneath his head as a pillow.

“you’re not staying here, max. you really don’t have to.”

“of course i am. someone’s got to look out for you. and i know you’re both totally fine on your own normally, but these are not normal conditions. you need a little help, and i’m more than happy to be here.”

she smiled, a soft, sleepy smile that made max’s heart beat faster. she pulled out some blankets from the bottom drawer of ali’s wardrobe. scooting over next to max.

“you’ve got the pillow, i’ve got the blankets.” she said.

“i don’t know about you, but that sounds perfect.” 

“a sleeping, sick kid, a mom in the middle of an emotional breakdown, a teddy bear and blankets?”

“yeah.” he nodded, sounding absolutely serious about his posture.

“you’ve clearly not spend enough time in this house.” she joked, sliding down and wrapping the blanket around herself, getting ready to sleep, finally.

“well, i would love to do that. you know, to… get a gist of things around here.” he said, unaware of the smile on her face, since she’d turned her back to him.

“we’ll talk about it over breakfast.”

“that sounds perfect. good night.” he leaned down, giving alison one last look, making sure that she was still asleep before closing his eyes to sleep.

[jjsstars]

Scott McCall Week 2024: day 4, this isn't just about the game

|| for @scottappreciation event

|| tags: scott/cora, hurt/comfort

“I need to keep studying, I’m sorry.” Scott huffs and avoids Cora’s eyes, looking back at his chemistry books that are seeming more like another language the longer he looks at them. He feels bad blowing off Cora’s request of a movie night but he can’t walk from this.

“Why are you studying so hard? I thought you said you had C’s.” If Cora’s honest, she’s surprised he’s even been able to keep that up with the chaos that’s been going on this year.

“I need B’s to keep playing lacrosse.” The library lights flicker above them when Cora sits across from Scott, lightly wrapping her fingers around his wrist to pull his hands away from where he has them resting on the book. They’re in tight fists of stress that Cora’s seen far too many times in the past couple weeks.

“You need to take a break and stop stressing.” She says softly but Scott only looks away again.

“This is the only thing that’s normal that I have.” It’s low and crunched together, even in the quiet library and with Cora’s werewolf hearing she leans in to listen to him.

“I’m not normal enough for you?” A harsh blush runs across Scott’s cheeks and neck as he lifts his head with a gentle smile and head shake.

“You’re perfect for me. I just… I don’t want to give up on lacrosse… it used to be so important to me.” When him and Stiles first started lacrosse it was the best thing in the world, even if Scott had just become a werewolf, lacrosse still seemed amazing. He was finally good at it, finally got a solid spot on the team, the coach actually looked at him and said he was doing a good job- everything about it was special.

“I know you really like it but isn’t it more realistic to put it off til things calm down?” Scott shifts in his seat, an uncomfortable knot of anxiety forming in his gut.

“Things won’t calm down, I’ll be putting it off forever.” He had kept hoping things would smooth over when everything first started off, he thought by the beginning of sophomore year he’d have everything figured out and they’d have a normal year. But now he’s a junior and every single year has been hectic, there’s never been a break.

“Okay babe, I’ll help you study so you can stay on the team. But starting tomorrow, the library closes in ten minutes and you need to sleep.” Cora picks up Scott’s book and shut its with his notes still inside, cutting off whatever protest he was going to give. The real goal of her coming here wasn’t to have a movie night but to make Scott get some sleep that he’s in desperate need of.

“I won’t let you put it off forever.” She assures, Scott leans over to kiss her forehead in thanks.

“I know you won’t.” Not if Scott is serious about wanting to keep playing, which he obviously is, and he knows Cora will do her best to help him achieve that.

They’ve talked about how Scott longs for that “normal” high school experience at times and how Cora is the complete opposite and has never seen the appeal of it. But Cora is just as stubborn and loyal as the rest of her family and Scott has no doubt she’ll be doing anything she can to help him get that life, at least a sliver of it. That’s all Scott really wants, he loves his pack and being a werewolf, all he needs is to play lacrosse once in a while to forget about the supernatural for a few hours at practice or feel the high of winning a game that doesn’t come up any other time. Even if he does have to spend all his free time studying to get there.

[weridpersonhelp]

red phone [2.]

Wally x reader?

Previus - Next?

warning: slightly scary, first-time horror writer, stalking, confusion, gramma and spell mistakes, screaming, getting up a horrible hour of night, neurodivergent reader, slow burnish? more fanfic than x reader, children, puppets, curse langue, music, be ready for cringe!

“Augh Jimmy, come on buddy! Be good for sissy!” I plead for my brother who was crying nonstop, I pat his back gently but firm as I bounce up and down slightly trying to rock him to sleep.  

“Ooh the poor little thing is he still crying?” Grandma asks I sigh and nod looking up at her, grey hair up behind a shower cap so she almost looked bald. Her ears were hidden behind it, but I could still see her earrings through it.

“Why don’t you put a show on! I have Vhs tapes in a box with old tv shows! He might just need something to relax”

“Thanks grandma!”

“No problem I’ll be off taking my bubble bath!”  she calls out, I  wince as my little brother grabs my ear and screams in it louder as if I couldn’t hear him any clearer than before. I sit him down on Grandma’s old creamy love seat couch propping him up so he doesn’t fall and shove a pacifier in his mouth. Making his cries just a little less annoying, crawling over to grandma’s Vhs player I look in the cabinets to try and find something that still had colour or better yet something appropriate for him. I sigh finding absolutely nothing that would entertain my brother. I crouch down even more to see if any Vhs tapes had fallen out and one did! BINGO! It had a box and everything so I could read what it was about as well!

I reach in to grab it, but my arms were too short. Honestly how deep was this cabinet? Grabbing a broom, I sweep it out myself and their it was. A puppet with an Elvis Presley hair style, he sat on a colourfully painted rock and honestly, I liked his style and character design. There were flowers behind him brightly painted and a house with eyes. The front cover had the word ‘Welcome Home’ which was a little creepy but over all alright considering the times. It reminded me of the Muppets or sesame street. Turning it over and a description of the show and it’s cast as shown on the back.

“Welcome home. Welcome home is a show following the protagonist Wally as he and his friends, Frank Frankly, Julie Joyful, Poppy Partridge , Sally Starlet, Eddie Dear, Howdy Pillar, Barnaby B. Beagle and Wally darling sentient house?” I ask turning to my brother who was still crying as if he was actually listening to me reading the prologue out loud.

“As they go out on adventure’s learn new lessons and enjoy their time in the happy and welcoming neighbourhood. Seems good enough to me” I take the tape out, and place it in. I turn on the tv and to my surprise it had colour. I sat on the couch and put Jim on my lap and bounce him making his voice shake as he walked.

“Come on let’s watch welcome home! This show hopefully will turn that frown upside down and make you sleepy!” I say to him as if he could understand a single word I just said, the show starts with the Wally character with a newspaper reading it. Honestly, I didn’t mind it myself, and Jim almost completely stopped crying as soon as he saw Wally. I have to say though Frankly frank looked familiar for some reason, but otherwise if I was being honest, I would probably watch the show with out Jim here. I loved Wally’s calm but cheerful attitude, he would tease his friends a little but over all was supportive of them. Frank and Julie would have to be my favoured pair though. They seemed to be the best of friend’s even though they were basically complete opposites in personality, I couldn’t help but laugh at their banter. We also got to meet Sally who was pretty cool too, My brother how ever seemed to just be in love with Wally and home! And when the eposide was done he clapped his hands for more happily.

“Oh my! where did you find that old thing?!” Grandma asks in her night gown walking down the stairs, she sounded angry and shocked.

“At the back of the cabinet! It’s quite a fun show Jim adores it!” I explain though she seems nervous for some reason.

“ooh I though I thought that out along time ago, it best be time for Jim to go to bed now, and you should get ready for bed soon as well! Don’t want to stay up too late!” grandma says turning off the tv by the cord, which was odd because the remote was right next to her. Jim was giggly though and when grandma went to pick him up, he was still giggly.

“alright good night grandma!” I say as the old woman walks up stairs carefully, I sigh pulling out my phone and texting my friend.

I have known Safa ever since we were kids, she was short plumb and had the most beautiful black hair I had ever seen, not to mention the perfect tans she would get at the beach when ever her family went . she was tech savvy way better than I was and able to find someone in just a couple of hours, which was useful but also scary. I get up from the couch and walk into the kitchen grabbing some ice cream, I make sure to put a massive spoon full of milo, sit at the table and set up my phone and watch my favioute youtuber while eating. Hours go by, with me just scrolling through my phone and talking to Safa about the stupidest shit, that was until I heard the creek of the door.

Once I decided enough was enough, I put my bowl in the sink and go up stairs quickly taking a shower and brush my teeth, drying myself off with one of grandma’s old towels felt scratchy on my skin. I should of brought my own towel, oh well too late now plus I’ll be back home in a couple of days and can deal with it for another day or two. Maybe.

Once I got dress in my pure cotton Pj’s I walk over to my double bed and faceplant. I spread my limps like a star fish taking a deep breath I try to relax my body. Closing my eyes, I wrap myself in a cocoon the tightness of my blanket comforts me as I fell asleep

[bonezone44]

‘No b o d y’

Joel x afab!Reader

image credit

Word Count: 1348

Summary: A phone call with your mom goes poorly and Joel attempts to comfort you. (no use of Y/N)

Tags: childhood trauma, childhood sexual assault (vague but likely triggering), familial neglect, mommy issues. Angst. Grief. 

A/N: Possibly the same mother for Muddy Waters' Reader ?? I'm undecided. Also, I know Reader's trauma is specific, but oh well. Turning this into 3rd person wouldn't have the same effect. 🙏

stand-alone but could be read with 'Stages of Grief'

+++++++

You weren’t like other girls. Weren’t like most other people, you realized. Their loneliness could be turned into romantic tunes–songs about longing, loving and losing. Their yearn for love could be placated by a friend. Woven into a conversation among other pains and tender spots that ailed them. They could use their voices to share their dismay and people listened. People nodded in understanding. In sympathy. In connection. 

They weren’t given wide, fearful eyes and uncomfortable silences—leaving them wondering if they said too much. 

Other people had lungs in their chests. Hearts. Organs. Blood. They could breathe deep, allow their whole torsos to rise and fall with clouds of fresh air. They could find relief by walking outside, enjoying the green of nature or the loud chatter of civilization. They weren’t overwhelmed by crowds or small groups or even the presence of a single other human being. Alone in a room. 

The walls didn’t close in on them. They didn’t suffocate. They might be tense or awkward or do something silly.

But they didn’t try to sit so quiet and so still in the hopes that they would disappear completely. That maybe, just this once, they really could teleport to somewhere so far away and new and start life all over again. ‘I’ll get it right next time. I promise,’ they’d pray to their angry, unforgiving god. ‘I won’t make the same mistake again.’

—--

You weren’t like other girls.

You were barely human, to be honest.

You felt frozen in time. Frozen into the dirt on the ground.

Your arms and legs were there, you assumed, flailing and uncooperative. But your entire chest cavity was caved in. Charred. A gaping nothingness in place of a soul.

“What is wrong with her?” Your mother said. “She is too old to still be actin like such a baby.”

Your whole family was standing tall, facing away from you, discussing your behavior as if you weren’t there. As if you couldn’t hear them.

As if it wasn’t brutally fucking obvious that you were missing the entire center of your body.

“I don’t know, but she is actin ridiculous,” you heard your mother say as she and the rest of your family walked away. 

Leaving you alone.

Unprotected and exposed to the elements.

You didn’t bother crying for help. You had gotten used to being ignored. Left to deal with the nothingness on your own.

—-

Most people ignored you when they walked by anyway. Too caught up in their own lives to acknowledge your presence. Some gawked and stared at your open wound before scurrying away.

Others looked at you with pity—recognizing your pain, but unable to do anything about it.

Because any time someone tried to help, tried to get close enough to address the issue–you’d snap at them with your teeth. Lash out and attack with words so vicious and so precise.

Because you hadn’t been just lying there, waiting pathetically for someone to save you. You had spent your time studying the other humans. Their motivations. Their lifestyles. Their insecurities. You didn’t have a body, so your words were your weapons.

You weren’t going to let anyone get close enough to hurt you again. 

Not like the ones who had scooped out your insides to begin with.

Taunting you as they held you down. Laughing as you tried desperately to break free.

You weren’t like other girls who dreamed of their wedding days and who wanted attention from the cute boys at school and who got all excited about losing their virginity.

Yours had already been taken from you.

Ripped away by teenage boys who thought you’d be too young to remember. Who thought their actions wouldn’t have consequences. (Boys will be boys!) Who got away with it, too, because anytime you’d try to tell someone or show somebody that new thing you learned about, they’d stare at you shocked and upset. Blood drained from their faces. They’d slap you and beat you and tell you to ‘Never ever do that again!’

—--

You were too young to know that what happened shouldn't have happened.

—--

Denial was strong in a mother in a small town who couldn’t fathom anything so horrible happening to her daughter. By people she knew to be cruel and twisted.

It was strong for a woman many considered to be a healer, a progressive-thinker, an intuitive. 

Clairvoyant.

Clear seeing.

Claircognizance.

Clear knowing.

For how well she could see someone’s future—she couldn’t see her own daughter’s present. Couldn’t see the blatant agony you faced day after day after day.

“What is wrong with her?” she wondered.

Eyes and ears ignoring all the tell-tale signs.

“Why is she like this?” she asked.

—

You were lying in bed on your side, body half-wrapped in blankets. 

Joel stepped into the doorway, footsteps heavy on the hardwood floor. He sighed. “Guessin the phone call didn't go so good.”

You threw your hand up. Sniffed.

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah, sure,” you murmured, scratching your cheek. You could barely breathe–your nose all stopped up from crying. 

Joel climbed into bed and laid behind you. His body cradling yours. His chest was warm against your back. He rubbed his hand up and down your arm. He kissed the back of your head. 

“I just… I want her to hurt,” you began through your tears. “I want her to hurt like I hurt.” 

“I know, darlin.” He squeezed your bicep and rubbed his thumb back and forth across your skin. 

“It's not fair. It's not fair that she can just say she didn't know. She had to know. She had to.”

“I know, baby.” He kissed the back of your head again. You felt his breath as he spoke. “You wanna take her number out your phone?”

“What? I can't do that to my mom.”

“Yeah, you can,” he said. “You don't owe her anything. You don't owe her your love or your forgiveness. You don't owe her a phone call or a birthday card. You don't owe her shit.”

“But she had it hard, too,” you argued. “Her mom was so much worse.” You shook your head. “She was awful to them.”

“Don't matter.” You felt him shrug behind you. “Don't matter what she went through. You don't have to be her friend. You don't have to be a daughter. She doesn't have to be anything to you.”

“But it's my mom,” you pleaded.

“So what? You're on your own now. You can do whatever you want. You don't need anythin from her anymore.” He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close. “I got you now.”

You sighed. “Thank you, Joel,” you said with your hand on his arm. “I… appreciate you.”

It wasn’t going to be that easy. Wouldn’t be that simple to cut this woman out of your life and out of your mind. You two were so alike, so aligned, so many parts of yourselves tied together.

But… Joel was right. You were on your own now. You didn’t live under her roof. Didn’t live in the same town or same state anymore. You didn’t have to go to Sunday dinners or help her with the groceries. You didn’t have to do anything. 

She could call you but you didn’t have to answer.

She could try to plan a visit, but you could say you had other plans.

Maybe next time.

Maybe next year.

Maybe next life.

And it felt good to let go. To start severing that connection inside your gut that begged for her approval and attention and affirmation.

You felt a tingling sensation in your stomach. You felt yourself firm up.

It took years but you had rebuilt your chest cavity. You got all your organs together and tossed back inside your ribs. Poured back in a whole bucket of blood. You had found people you could trust. You had found ways to let others get close without you biting off their hands. 

Maybe you could start over in this life. Right now.

Maybe Joel could be your new family.

But maybe you just needed more time.

+++++++

[slrsunfire]

I’ve been trying to get a little mdtb piece out for Tobirama’s birthday but I don’t think I’ll be able to post it for his actual day :( 

It’s a re-work of a mdtb a/b/o fic I’ve been playing with in the background between all my projects and I’m thinking I’m just going to keep this a one shot due to time constraints. I can always add on to the ‘verse later if I so desire and interest is there. 

Anyway, here’s a sneak peek until I can get this posted: 

----

Izuna shot up from the desk fast enough his form blurred when the briefest surge of electricity was conducted through the wood, and Tobirama couldn’t help but smirk viciously in vindication at the yelp that followed.

“Ow, what the fuck Tobirama!”

“I told you to get off the desk, Izuna,” Tobirama lightly reminded the man, “it’s not my fault you can’t follow directions.”

Izuna glowered at him for his cheek, and Tobirama smugly rolled up the scroll he’d just completed before standing to walk it over to the outgoing document box that was due to be picked up in an hour or so.

“See if I come to check on you again. I can’t believe you shocked me.”

“I warned you,” Tobirama calmly retorted as he checked to make sure he’d already deposited all of the other vital documents needing immediate filing for the day.

“What is this?”

At the question, Tobirama’s head snapped up and he spun around, just in time to see Izuna pick up the hanten jacket he’d kept stored in his lower desk drawer, it’s furoshiki covering discarded on the floor beside Izuna’s feet.

For a moment all he could do was stare at Izuna in shock before his face flooded with color.

“It’s a coat, what does it look like?” Tobirama waspishly retorted, trying for unimpressed as he glared at his formal rival.

Tobirama had no idea how to classify the stare Izuna turned on him next as the shorter omega shifted to really look at him, his pleasant, almost cinnamon tinged scent unfurling around him with his quickly shifting emotions.

“Where did you get it, Tobirama?”

At the question, Tobirama’s lips pursed as he juggled being honest or brushing Izuna off.

“I don’t know,” he finally admitted after a moment of struggling with himself, “I came back to my office and found it waiting for me on my birthday. Is it really so surprising I’d get a gift?”

Izuna’s expression turned utterly serious, which in turn made Tobirama’s hair stand on end out of pure instinct. Nothing good usually came from such a thing. He’d learned that very well during their constant and repeated battles over the years.

“It’s not just a coat, Tobirama. This is—”

Tobirama watched Izuna pause and take a deep, almost calming breath before he continued.  

“These seals, they’re proprietary Uchiha seals. The coat stitching, too— I’d recognize it anywhere. My mother had a jacket just like this that our father gave her at the start of their courting, made with good Yuki silk like this that our seamstresses wove to make the coat. It’s the first gift you give someone you wish to bond with, Tobirama. It’s a promise to cover you in their protection, and a sign you are already being pursued to any others who would dare to approach you with alternate offers.”

He theoretically understood what Izuna was saying, but Tobirama found himself also doubting he was understanding Izuna properly. An Uchiha was—or wanted to—court him of all people?

“I had no idea,” Tobirama breathed out the moment he got his voice back, certain his eyes had to be incredibly wide. “I haven’t even—how will they know if I agree or not?”

[piercethewon]

Option B: —Is it okay if I join you, Taehyun?—.

↺ Undo selection || ⌂ Back to masterlist

wc: 600.

ㅤ

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—Is it okay if I join you, Taehyun?— your gaze diverted to the silver-haired boy, who snapped out of his astonishment and nodded at you. —Gaeul?— you called your friend; she understood the message immediately and signaled Kai and Lily to follow her somewhere else.

On the other hand, Sunghoon clearly had no idea of what was going on, he just stared at you as if you could telepathically explain to him why your friends had to take their leave so suddenly.

To put it simply, you did not trust Taehyun. Three years of him being your classmate were enough to make you feel wary of him; he was smart, but in a totally different way from Lily, he was good at convincing people, even teachers, to an extent where he could indulge them into doing what he wanted while making them believe they were acting on their own regard. He was an all-round gossiper, he could read between words with scary accuracy, and at the top of the list of “Reasons to stay away from Taehyun” was that he had a Sherlock Holmes complex.

However, even though he was always with Kai, you knew that he worked alone because even if he seemed like a cold person, he cared about his friend and would not want to drag him into trouble, so, if you wanted to make him spill what he knew about Jay and Jake, you had to keep Kai out of the way.

—Sunghoon— Taehyun started, getting your friend’s attention once more —I’ll be honest with you to make this quick— now, this was the kind of conversation that Lily would have been glad to take part in —I know you barely passed the physics test...— wait, what? Why would he bring that up? —So I wanted to offer you my… help— his gaze diverted for a second while pronouncing the last word as if he feared someone could be eavesdropping, giving away that he was not exactly referring to the use of orthodox methods.

Sunghoon had been confused a few minutes prior to the conversation, but now he was completely stunned —You followed me all the way up here... to talk about my grades?— he blinked a few times and looked at you as if asking for help, but you merely raised your shoulders.

—Yeah, it was quite the stoll— Taehyun continued, his features tensed by the second, he was well aware that Kai would be back any second and you noticed it, but you would not give him what he wanted —Why are you up here, anyway?—.

That was a very personal question, but getting defensive over it would only increase his curiosity, so you had to try a different approach —Lily has not been feeling well and we don’t want her to catch a cold, so we decided to have lunch here since there’s no one around to bother us…— Sunghoon nodded eagerly as if he could make your excuse seem more convincing that way.

—I see— Taehyun looked behind you, to the corridor where Lily, Gaeul, and Kai were a few meters away —Well, I hope she gets better soon, we’ll leave you to it... But remember that my offer still stands— he said before taking his leave, going to where Kai was and dragging him away.

—Why was he in a hurry?— your short-haired friend inquired, watching the pair disappear from view —What happened?—.

—I’ll tell you later, I promise— you said as you turned to face the door for room 606 —We have more important things to do right now—.

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► Next

[josiebelladonna]

buckle up, because this is probably the biggest post against billie eilish i’ve written yet. i’m just going to be completely blunt: i need the world to stop giving her attention. in fact, the world needs the world to stop giving her attention. really, it’s for everyone’s own sake.

stop. just stop. just leave her to waste. don’t listen to her music, unfollow her, just leave her in the past. it’s obvious she doesn’t want the attention anyway: she doesn’t use the internet anymore, the thing that got her to where she is, and she doesn’t seem to realize this or even give a shit about her own fans, it feels like. i could be wrong, but certain things in life simply don’t need a complex explanation like that, especially when it looks bad.

“what do you mean?” i hear you ask. well, read on.

sometime ago, we’re talking a couple of years ago, i read her wiki page—i guarantee you it’s changed at this point, and i’ll explain that in a little bit. but there was one tidbit about it that i cannot stop thinking about.

you don’t know if the lyrics are based in truth or not. i remember it was something like being raised in a family of actors or something like that, but her lyrics skirt on reality and fantasy, so you don’t know if she’s telling the truth or not. you know, there’s a certain amount of trust that goes into storytelling, especially on a lyrical level, and especially if you get around to saying that you’re being honest—billie said it herself recently, people on the internet are gullible. they take things at surface level. when you say you’re being honest, they don’t realize that you mean that you’re performing in a way that’s honest to how you learned it, rather than on a lyrical level.

so, to anyone who thinks that she’s being real in her lyrics, i’m sorry to tell you this, i really am: but you’re being lied to. i think that was the thing that led me to begin questioning her, too, questioning her legitimacy and if she really is the real thing and if the things that she sings about actually happened or if she just made them up.

i wanted to clear this up before i pick the whole thing apart because i’m going to get really mean here.

first off, we have got to stop ignoring her cultural appropriation. she’s mainly influenced by rap and hip hop, and you can hear it in her voice, too, the inescapable voice of ebonics and black culture, appropriated by an upper middle class white girl who grew up sheltered in an affluent neighborhood in the very nice part of l.a. she was also caught saying racial slurs—on camera, no less. she “apologized” for it—it felt very half-assed, hence the quotation marks, and she kept doing it. i’ve said this before and i’ll say it again: if this was anyone else, you would never hear from them again.

“oh, but elvis and the beatles appropriated from black culture”

elvis and the beatles acknowledged where they came from and paid respects to it: elvis started out with gospel because he was surrounded by it, the beatles started out with r&b for the same reason. just because they were all white boys doesn’t mean they did it out of malevolence: they did it with their own spin and own garnishings on it and it just happened to blow up because of white audiences. billie grew up with rap but also her parents were really into rock n roll and jazz, so it feels weird that someone would appropriate mostly from a form of music that’s primarily black in this context. elvis and the beatles also didn’t stomp their feet and throw a temper tantrum when they found out that people don’t like them. i frankly don’t give a shit if she’s old enough to buy liquor now: that is textbook spoiled brat behavior, and every time news about her comes out now, it becomes more apparent to me.

“oh, but she’s got such a pretty voice!”

i don’t fucking care???? especially when music’s best and most memorable voices were anything but pretty. rather, they were unusual or they stood out in some way. bob dylan. janis joplin. lemmy. grace slick. eric burdon. kurt cobain. bruce springsteen. freddie mercury. chris cornell. layne staley. eddie vedder. brad nowell. michael jackson depending on who you ask, same with cher and madonna and also taylor swift. hell, elvis and the beatles themselves. plus, when i think of a pretty voice, i think of sarah maclachlan, jeff buckley, and karen carpenter, i don’t think of billie (probably because the three of them are legends). in fact, listen to “oxytocin” (which i keep wanting to call melatonin for some reason 😆), which is arguably the saving grace of an otherwise very forgettable album: my very first impression of that song, especially with her louder vocals, was “she sounds like avril.” really, not paying attention, it sounds like a weaker avril lavigne song: i’m just picturing that old camo shirt that avril used to wear when complicated came out, but minus the genuine attitude and skater kid vibe.

“she screams in happier than ever and she wears band shirts, a true rocker and survivor!”

poppy screamed in a number of her songs on i disagree, the album that came out after she split from titanic (which actually was an abusive relationship), and no one gave a shit—in fact, who, besides me, remembers that album getting nominated for a grammy for best metal performance? poppy’s screams are a lot better, too, like they feel genuine and strong. billie’s “”””””screams”””””” are not only shoved into the background (which feels like a complete cop out to me, like… if you’re going to do that, commit) but they sound more like disgruntled yells than anything. this doesn’t sound like heartbreak, she sounds like jerry seinfeld telling kramer to stop eating all my food and get THE HELL OUT OF MY APARTMENT! i actually kind of felt bad for laughing, tbh. i was genuinely disappointed, like i thought it was going to be like “don’t” by dinosaur jr, 10 minutes of lou barlow shrieking his lungs out. and honestly, who fucking cares about band tees anymore, especially with the amount of bullshit bands have to deal with now. like whoop-de-freaking-do, she wore a blondie shirt, it’s free advertising for debbie harry and good job making fans feel used, too—i guess she also wore new york knicks swag the other night and i’m not going to ask if she’s been to a game but… really think about this for a moment. you never see her at concerts. you never see her out in public unless she’s wearing something like that, either. you have to dig around to read about her, as if someone on her end has made it a challenge to find out anything about her to get to know her and feel closer to her, god forbid. “how is what i wear news?” she asks in one of her songs that i just randomly remembered. BECAUSE YOU MADE IT THAT WAY, BILLIE! people don’t have anything to talk about with you so they pick out your wardrobe and your relationships. you are not an open book, you’re a walking mannequin. i don’t think it’s a “young and dumb” thing, either, especially with the perception that she’s supposedly “wise beyond her years”, especially since she grew up surrounded by show business with her mother and her grandparents being actors. …jesus crotch-kicking christ, are you kidding me?

if anything, it feels hollow, especially after my pointing out that you don’t know if it’s real or not. she grew up well off and sheltered, and she willfully dates men way older than her and no one in her family gives a fuck, which is absolutely a rich people attitude (i will always find it weird that her brother is dating a woman who looks just like her, too). i mean, it really does feel like an act when you think about it.

someone like phoebe bridgers or olivia rodrigo or lady gaga or miley, i get completely: a girl who plays guitar is going to rock a veruca salt shirt; a girl who grew up listening to pearl jam and does a song that extrapolates from elvis costello; a girl who grew up bombarded by music are going to collaborate with tony bennett and do a country album; and another girl who grew up with music is going to show up at a def leppard concert, cover bob dylan, collaborate with the flaming lips, and do a whole-ass rock album. but billie? she seems completely random to me, like i don’t know what to make of her most of the time. it’s like there’s no cake under the frosting there even if you watch interviews with her (am i being unfair? maybe. but when i think about other female musicians who are larger than life right now and have huge fanbases, they usually have something to back it up to give themselves depth. it’s why every time you see katy perry or bebe rexha, you kinda wonder what they’re still doing here. it’s starting to become the same story with her when i think about it). i mean, really, how do we know she’s even a fan of anything? aside from her parents being into music, she’s really never elaborated on it and what other music she seems to like comes completely out of nowhere. it reminds me of those popular girls i’d see at school and they would have their phones out and play the shittiest of shit (this is back when ringtone rap was in vogue, too) at full volume at lunchtime and they would wear like a misfits shirt at the same time and yet, it was impossible to tell if they knew who glenn danzig or jerry only is. that shit just brings out the judgmental nature in people and it’s made worse by the fact that you don’t know if she’s being honest about it or not.

by the way, as for happier than ever itself. there are some songs that she does that i don’t like but i totally get the appeal of, like i was hearing bad guy on tv practically all the time last year. i’ll actually find myself humming it at times, too. i get why some of her songs are hits. but with all this in mind, it should make sense that i have never EVER seen the appeal of happier than ever. aside from my disappointment, it’s a boring, overrated song (and again, keeping up with the theme of the poor man’s avril lavigne) with an overrated, cliché, kind of obnoxious video that i only got the gist of because things are better for me than they were in summer 2020, and it really doesn’t help that the meaning of it is rendered completely pointless once “male fantasy” comes on. which… leads me to my next point.

“she’s feminist, though!”

bitch is misandrist in every sense of the word. every single sense. i can’t find it now, but there was a gifset floating around on here based on an interview she did in 2019, i think it was, where she quite literally asks, “why are men so ugly? why do pretty girls always go with such shitty men?” and to drive this home, she once said—you can’t make this shit up—“i like girls” for seemingly no reason. people accused her of queerbaiting, which i didn’t buy into: no, this is someone who has serious issues with men to the point of hating them despite being with the genuinely creepy ones. she is just one of many women in a whole generation who have issues with men and doesn’t seem to care.

how many more times does this need to be said: you cannot expect progress if you build one side up and bash the other at the same time. and building up the one side in favor of the other ironically winds up being a form of prejudice in its own right. it’s glossing over any flaws there might be, which is actually very dehumanizing and arguably worse than straight up saying you hate them. she isn’t “wise beyond her years”, either: she was born in late 2001, so she grew up with the internet. next to hollywood, she grew up exposed to the blogosphere and social media, just like my former friend who dumped me a couple of months back: a person who was born in 1999 and made a facebook account when they were 11 and lied about their age for years. there’s no wisdom to be had there: they just read what the adults at the granular level were saying and regurgitated it and got away with it because they were kids. plus, she was at the metgala the other day, too, and the theme of it this year celebrated a man who was known to treat women and minorities horribly. happier than ever is starting to feel incredibly hollow now, isn’t it? like i said, i get why her songs are hits… but i also get why you don’t really hear them anymore, and when you do, it’s not often and it’s usually not in the best context, either. saw someone use “you should see me in a crown” for the coronation the other day (i used to really like that song, too) and it made my skin crawl. some of them, especially that “your power” one, are very quickly becoming hollow because there’s no cake under the frosting.

“she herself is so pretty”

preparing to take a swing at a hornet’s nest here.

…

okay.

NO SHE IS NOT. even without everything i talked about, i wouldn’t touch her with a 10-foot pole. really, it’s not just my preference talking, either: i’m pansexual, i like men and women and those in between of all shapes and sizes, but… do you ever see someone who, for seemingly no reason, just puts a pit in your stomach and makes you feel really uneasy, like they can’t be trusted? that’s what i get from her. it’s almost like dealing with a used car salesman: there’s something off-putting and slimy about her but you can’t really put your finger on it, and when you go back to look, someone edited it so it’s different from the first time. she is not attractive. if anything, she’s kind of gross. for some reason, i think of the smell of a public bathroom after it’s been cleaned. it smells clean, but it’s artificial, though, and you can’t completely rid of the stench of shit, either. i see her smile and it’s got this unshakable smarminess to it.

i liked her with blonde hair, though, that fit her complexion, but solid black hair ages her by about 15 years (it’s a little weird, too, because i liked the black hair with green roots). i don’t know why you would look like rose mcgowan before she went batshit insane or shannen doherty before she got sick other than to make yourself look less like you and more like a 30-something mom in the late nineties. i completely loathe her fashion sense, too: that’s even weirder because i was initially drawn to her because she was more tomboy. but when she started wearing more uncomfortable-looking corsets and dresses that looked like they were thrown together the night before, it made me realize just how trashy she is. it’s like it contrasts her street wear and makes it seem worse than it is. i keep saying this, but calling anything about her beautiful is on par with telling someone with an ugly baby that their kid is beautiful: you feel like you have to or everyone will call you an asshole.

“all the celebrities like her, though”

good for them. plus, why are you bringing them into it? i thought we were becoming increasingly anti-celebrity in the wake of the lockdowns. like who cares what these people think, especially when some of them are as bad as her?

it honestly makes me physically ill when i think about people like alex skolnick, aka my crush, or charlie benante giving this fucking bitch praise. (it’s so weird coming out of alex, too, given he’s got a bullshit meter more sensitive than most radar detectors) but like, are you guys even aware that she actually really only got famous because the fallout from the dr. luke scandal left a gaping void in pop music and because of the ingrained white supremacy of our society (that will eventually kill us if we don’t rectify it pronto)? and that when a band like paramore publicly disowned one of their songs because they felt it was problematic but performed it with her only tells me everyone is playing favorites rather than actually standing for something? it completely baffles me how she gets away with shit that other people would get reprimanded for. i mean, really, why did we banish someone like louis c.k. for several years after he apologized for what he did, but ~the great billie~ gets praise, grammy awards, and her own fucking host slot on snl after publicly calling men ugly and performing misery business at coachella? what on earth was even the point of #metoo and anything feminist?

take turning red, for example. a movie made by a team of asian-canadian women telling a story about asian girls in canada. you would think they enlisted an asian musician to keep things uniform NOPE. they got her stupid ass. i’ll tell you this, though, i didn’t even realize she did the soundtrack for that movie until todd in the shadows talked about it in his year end review back in january. that was honestly telling to me, that a disney movie can get her to do the soundtrack and no one bats an eye. it kind of gives me hope, too: her shtick is starting to wear thin because… it is, and there wasn’t really much meat to it to begin with, anyways.

“she’s just being herself”

i hate when people say this, especially with her. like, if you’re going to say this, say it with other women and say it often, too. because it’s bullshit. bullshit. BULLSHIT. B U L L S H I T. BULL FUCKING SHIT. hey, you know what? people said that about marilyn manson and look what happened to him after a while. his image became increasingly bastardized and he lost a lot of his edge, too, and this was well before evan rachel wood spoke out about him, too.

saying racist slurs, (half-assedly) apologizing for them, and then continuing with it while being covertly hateful is not the definition of “being yourself”. and if it is… there is something horribly wrong with all of you. there is something horribly wrong with the world that this little liar gets everything and yet other alternative acts are not even given the time of day most of the time.

billie eilish brings out the absolute worst in people, just this pervasive sense of hypocrisy all for the sake of her being “alternative” or different, and no one seems to realize or care that she is an awful human being and it arguably makes her music even worse. excuse me, but lorde, lana del rey, and avril herself were all doing the whole alternative thing well before she showed up, and neither of those women are as hateful or mean-spirited as her. again, why does she get away with bullshit others would get reprimanded for, especially when we really don’t know what happened? frankly, i’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that i don’t think for one second that she was abused by someone, especially when she continually willfully seeks out men older than her and we really don’t have evidence that she was traumatized or troubled by anything. the lyrics on happier than ever are fucking pathetic and they really don’t tell you anything, either. plus, i cannot give someone sympathy who doesn’t learn their lesson, and i can only assume that it didn’t even happen and she was trolling us all for the sake of views and stardom. and if my assumptions are correct, she’s a disgrace.

but i say, quit while you’re all ahead. stop supporting her. but also, really pay attention to her because someone who deliberately bars attention from their personal life à la not taking photos with their “partner” tells me that they’re hiding something really sick and twisted. and i bet you money it’s got nothing to do with her allegedly being abused, either. i’m starting to see the world kinda come around on my side with that, too: she dropped a collaboration with labrinth for that show euphoria some time ago that trended for about an hour and no one on instagram said a word about it. plus about a week ago, for a brief moment, i saw “free billie eilish” trending on twitter (it was real brief, too, not even a 1000 tweets, but i just happened to catch it, though), and after googling, i found out it was some dude on the ktla tower down south with a banner that read that, and the press’ reaction was one of “sir, this is an arby’s”. it was honestly incredible.

i’m cynical but somewhere inside me, there is still hope. and i hope we can lock her ass in the past and never have to think about her again.

[lorelodge]

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ — nadja & laszlo

For each “⭐️” I get, I’ll write a headcanon about our muses // accepting // @musecraft ​

1.)     Laszlo originally didn’t have an engagement ring to propose with so he used his signet ring (which Nadja has kept to this day). Soon after, Nadja gifted him his own engagement trinket. One of the few pieces of jewelry she had from her life as a mortal, a locket. It was old and scratched and likely not worth anything monetarily speaking but it’s one of his most treasured possessions and he wears it every day. Originally Laszlo placed a miniature portrait of her in it but eventually, he replaced that with an actual photo (once those were available.

2.)     They’re the two worst people to see go to the movies with much less sit next to while in the theater. To start, they obviously can’t keep their hands off each other. You’ll have some poor protagonist getting knifed to death in a slasher film and these two will find that sexy. The next thing you know you’re caught in the splash zone of their love making. And, yes, Laszlo’s solution has been to invite the other person to join. And, yes, on a few occasions this worked, but not nearly enough for him to keep suggesting it. Even when they don’t ruin your movie-going experience with their sexual deviance they’re a horror to be near. Nadja talks throughout the film and Laszlo will tell YOU to fuck off if you interrupt her interrupting the film. If they happen to be watching a ‘based on a true story’ historical film it’s game over. Prepare for both of them to “correct the record”. The dancing sickness of 1518 was Nadja’s doing and they’re prepared to let the whole room know it. 

3.)     We’ve spoken about this a bit but Laszlo had a difficult time adapting to certain aspects of being a vampire. Funnily enough, it wasn’t the ‘you’ll only ever drink blood from now on’ that threw him but rather the heightened senses. Everything was just more. As a newborn, he had a tendency to suffer from overstimulation and it was by focusing on aspects of Nadja’s presence (her scent, her chatter, etc) that he was able to ground himself. Slumbering proved to be another challenge as their coffins aren’t soundproof. Nadja took to singing acapella to him in order to drown out some of the background noise, something which she still does on occasion. 

4.)      Nadja carved out the vampire you see before you today and Laszlo trusts her superb sense of style and fashion completely. It was Nadja who started the whole coordinated outfit trend. She claimed that his wardrobe wasn’t vampire-y enough and Laszlo was too enamored with her to argue. The same can be said about his name change. He introduced himself as Leslie but that’s not exactly a fearsome vampire name. She insisted on calling him Laszlo and to be honest, he liked the sound of that more anyway, it was a bit like shedding his old life. However, in their mortal au they go a step further than that and just share a closet. They mostly exchange shirts but Nadja has really glammed Laszlo up on more than one occasion. She taught him how to do eyeliner, massacre, and eyeshadow about a week into the relationship. 

MORTAL AU.

5.)     A few years after the heat died down (as had Christophe) Laszlo buys a sailboat. Laszlo is very passionate about sailing and Nadja is an excellent navigator.  They begin to travel around the world, stopping at travel constantly. Sometimes with Jack, occasionally with other thirds, they’ve picked up along the way, but always together. There’s never really a discussion about not having kids, but that’s what happens. Neither of them particularly minds. Sometimes Nadja procurs an Oliver Twist-esque person from nowhere who becomes an adopted companion of sorts. And Laszlo, of course, manages to pick up a few illegitimate children scattered across the globe none of which he stays around long enough to know (and yes this means he still can’t watch Mamma Mia).

Bonus:     He loves her. Have I mentioned that? Because he does. Laszlo fucked his way through life way before he met Nadja but she was still the first person he ever made love to. Everything else before (and after) was fucking. But Nadja was, and still is, the only person he makes love to. 

[tom-holland-parker]

Gray Blazer

Summary: It was an honest mistake forgetting your jacket but when your CEO boss offers you his blazer you end up with a date

Pairing: CEO!Tom x reader

Warning: none just fluff 

Word Count: 868

Note: terrible description we all know i suck at them just read and enjoy I guess

Masterlist

Everyone knew that your boss had expensive taste. He liked to look good no matter the cost, it wasn’t like he didn’t have the money to spare.

You on the other hand were completely different. It wasn’t that you couldn’t afford nice things, your boss paid you well enough to support a good lifestyle, you just weren’t raised to value materialistic things. 

It was a stupid idea to not bring your jacket but the weather was nice in the morning so you figured that you wouldn’t need one come the afternoon. However as the cold air hit your body you began to shiver, regretting the fact that you left your sweater at home.

“You’re cold” You glanced at your boss, sitting next to you at the lunch table, there were still a few minutes left before the others arrived to the restaurant for the meeting that was supposed to take place

“Just a little, I’ll be fine” You said, not looking up from the file in front of you. 

Tom shook his head, “I told you to bring a jacket.” You ignored him, focusing on making sure the meeting went as smoothly as possible. If anything went south you knew Tom would be grumpier than usual. He rolled his eyes as he fumbled to pull off his blazer, “Here”

You glanced his way, shaking your head at the gray blazer being offered to you, “I’m fin-”

“Just take the jacket” Tom grumbled, “Please I don’t want you to be cold”

Your face heated, butterflies erupting in your stomach as you took the jacket and put it on. It was oversized and with every breath you took you were faced with the rich scent of his cologne. You tried your best to hide your delight as you turned to greet the rest of the members in the meeting that were walking to the table. Tom smirked as he straightened his shirt, standing up to greet everyone

///

The meeting went fast thanks to how well you organized everything. As you stepped into the office most of the eyes were on you, staring as you walked to your desk. “You did a good job today” Tom smiled, handing you the files before walking into his office. 

It took all about 3 minutes before someone was walking to your desk, this eyes begging for gossip, “I didn’t know you and the boss were that close, no wonder you're his favorite assistant”

Melanie from Accounting was probably the biggest gossip in the office, she knew everything about everyone and never shied away from prying into people’s personal life. She’d been after you job for months, being the CEO’s assistant meant that you knew everything that was happening or going to happen before anything else.

“Melanie, what are you talking about?” You rolled your eyes as you began to organize your desk, “I have work to do”

“Well it’s not everyday that Tom Holland walks through the elevator with a smile on his face and his designer blazer wrapped around someone else” Melanie smiled, “I would only assume that you and him were dating”

You looked down at the blazer you were still wearing. You had honestly forgotten you were still wearing it, but Tom didn’t complain so you didn’t see it as a problem. “I forgot my jacket and the restaurant was cold, he was just being friendly, Melanie now please get back to work”

Melanie pursed her lips, clearly not believing you, “Well fine but when a man lets you borrow his thousand dollar blazer, it doesn’t seem just friendly”

You rolled your eyes as she walked away but curiosity got the best of you. This wasn’t really an expensive blazer, was it? 

A quick google search told you everything you needed to know. The blazer in your possession was exactly $1384. You shivered at the price, hating the thought of something so expensive being in your possession, you definitely couldn’t afford to replace it if you messed it up. 

Quickly you ran to Tom’s office with the blazer in hand, “here you go thank you for letting me borrow it”

Tom’s stared at you in confusion, “keep it”

Your eyes widened, “absolutely not it’s too expensive I can’t pay you back for it” 

He smiled, putting his hands behind his head as he leaned back in his chair, “well then that means it’s time for a raise”

You suppressed a chuckle, “I'm not joking please just take it back”

“I gotta say, I do like the sight of you in my clothes” 

There it was again, those butterflies flying around your stomach, “What’s it going to take for you to take it back”

Tom sat up, looking at you with a playful grin, “how about you go to dinner with me, Saturday”

You sighed knowing that he would be stubborn and easily charm his way into getting a yes, “fine but I'm only saying yes so you can take the blazer back” 

Tom smirked, “yeah we’re totally not gonna fall in love and live happily ever after”

You rolled your eyes as you turned to walk out the room a large smile plastered on your face, “eight o'clock don’t be late”

///

TAGLIST

@writesforholland @wildxwidow @nelly-belly @marvelgurl @marvelxholland

@crybabyddl @wildholland @inas-thing @hehehehannahthings @prancerrparkerr @mn-jun @abiseifried @randomwriter1021 @hunnybunimdun @raajali3 @spideysbae @liltimmyst @army24-7

[humanwheatleyslefttoenail]

why do you ship chell and glados if glados is basically her mom

Okay this is actually a pretty common misconception in the fandom that unfortunately a lot of people have taken as canon, but I’m feeling nice so I’ll answer your question.

Basically, anon is referencing a theory from around 2012 that Caroline is Chell’s mom. The evidence for the theory is as follows:

- The turret opera calls Chell “bambina”, which means “little girl” in Italian

- Chell’s name can be found on a Bring Your Daughter To Work Day science project

- GLaDOS references the possibility of Chell being adopted multiple times

- GLaDOS is significantly nicer to Chell after discovering she’s Caroline 

And, anon, you’re right, it does sound like a pretty good argument at first glance. The problem is that a lot of these points don’t actually hold up to scrutiny.

For example, although “bambina” literally translates to “little girl,” it’s often used in the same way “baby girl” is used in English - it can mean child, but contextually it’s usually a flirtatious term. (Source: Cambridge Dictionary)

For Chell’s science project, it doesn’t work as evidence for the theory because GLaDOS killed the scientists around 1998-ish, when Caroline had presumably been uploaded several years earlier and Cave was already dead. Also, Chell’s in her 20′s, and since we know from Lab Rat/Portal 2 that people don’t age in stasis, and that Doug put Chell at the top of the test subject list only weeks after the takeover, Chell was 28 at the time of the takeover. The science project is really only an Easter egg and doesn’t actually fit into the canon timeline let alone prove anything about Caroline and Cave. 

GLaDOS talking about Chell being adopted is a pretty strong point, I’ll admit, but also it’s important to remember that maybe half of what GLaDOS says is true. And even if we take what she says at face value, she also says there’s a man and a woman in stasis with Chell’s last name, which could not have been Cave and Caroline because they were already dead at that point. And the official book Final Hours Of Portal 2 confirms Cave and Caroline were not married and could not have shared the same name anyway. It was also the 50′s, an an unmarried couple of two likely famous people having a child would’ve been scandalous, and yet we see no hint of something like this affecting their company. 

Also, although GLaDOS is nicer to Chell after the Caroline reveal, that’s not necessarily indicative of a mother-daughter relationship, and neither is any of their interactions. It’s just. GLaDOS being friendlier. 

Finally, when this theory was made (and let’s be honest - it still is happening) Chell was constantly whitewashed to hell and back. 

Chell is Japanese-Brazilian, and Cave and Caroline are white, so it would be a near impossibility for her to be their biological child (and insisting otherwise is kinda. just. whitewashing). And although people will cry “adoption!”, based on what I’ve previously proven, that’s pretty much impossible. This theory that somehow she’s Cave and Caroline’s daughter erases an important part of her identity. [Disclaimer, I am white, but this is what I’ve heard from around the fandom]

With all that said, the idea that she’s the daughter of Cave and Caroline really doesn’t hold weight when you really analyze the canon. It’s surface level analysis that doesn’t hold up. And honestly? The idea kinda cheapens the story. It’s much more powerful that GLaDOS learns to care about Chell and becomes kinder than just. Oh, she remembered she’s related to Chell. 

But to actually answer your ask. 

Why do I ship them?

Well, they aren’t mother and daughter, I think that’s pretty obvious now. But if you actually look at a lot of subtext in Portal 2, without the lens of the mother theory, it’s actually pretty romantic! 

I know that sounds ridiculous, but bear with me!

Now - it’s totally okay if you don’t ship them. I get it. Their interactions in Portal 1 and the first half of Portal 2 are toxic if not outright well. Y’know. Murderous. I completely understand why that turns people off from shipping them, and ultimately, shipping is a personal thing. To each his own. 

But before you judge me, let me present my case.

Exhibit A: Portal 

Portal is kinda gay. No, really. Chell and GLaDOS are enemies in this game, but the entire focus is on their relationship (good or not) and the power struggle between them. They are opposites, two sides of the same coin, different representations of opposite ideologies. People have analyzed Portal as a relationship metaphor, or as a metaphor about women’s role in society - either way, the heart of Portal is the complicated dynamic between Chell and GLaDOS. 

That’s not necessarily enough to code a romance, but a lot of popular (and especially popular queer ones) ships begin with opposite ideologies, symbolic powers colliding. Portal cements their relationship as a toxic one, something on the verge of falling apart and hurting both parties in the end. The ending image, of Chell and GLaDOS side by side after the battle, reinforces the symbolic parallels between the two. 

The companion cube is also pretty symbolically important to this interpretation. It’s literally a representation of someone’s heart, and you are told to protect it and preserve it under GLaDOS’ orders, and then you have to destroy it regardless of how you actually feel about doing that. You are destroying GLaDOS’ heart, so to speak. 

There’s also the ending song, Still Alive. The lyrics speak for themselves.

They hint that GLaDOS’ feelings about Chell are more complicated than they may appear (if she’s not being sarcastic...) and she literally talks about Chell breaking her heart (also, think back to the companion cube. Yeah.). The entire song is structurally similar to many a breakup number, with the laments of “I’m glad it happened, but also leave.” 

At the end, we also see that the long promised cake GLaDOS was supposedly lying about was real the whole time. Before Portal 2 came out, it was mostly interpreted as a stinger ending (along with the nicer lyrics of Still Alive) to make you question GLaDOS’ true motives and intentions.

She actually did have a real cake waiting for you. (Side note - not really evidence, but in Argentina, “torta” means cake in Spanish. It’s also a slang term for lesbians. So. Do with that what you will). The cake is what GLaDOS offers you to lull you into the sense that she cares about you, so discovering that “the cake is a lie” wakes you up to the realization that she doesn’t. Except then the idea is subverted one last time, at the very end, showing that the cake is real and at least some of what she said she meant. 

You also see the companion cube. You know, GLaDOS’ symbolic heart?

Now, okay, you might be thinking I’m extrapolating a bit too much. And you might be right. But Portal is not the only game in the series, and if you’re asking me about Cave and Caroline you obviously know about Portal 2.

Exhibit B: Portal 2

If you thought Portal was gay, Portal 2 turns that up to 11.

Even before GLaDOS wakes up, you’re treated to some visual subtext. A few of Rattmann’s drawings representing the events of Portal 2 focus a lot on the relationship between GLaDOS and Chell, with more of the cake symbolism.

In this, you can see a face layered on top of GLaDOS. This could be foreshadowing about Caroline, and likely is, but also resembles his other drawing of Chell. It insists that Chell is a part of GLaDOS, or reinforces parallels between Chell and Caroline, hinting at something either way. 

In this picture, we also see Chell standing on top of GLaDOS, in the same position where the overlay of the feminine face was, again referencing the parallel. It also presents them as opposites, fundamental parts of the same thing and both connected to the same basis, but on opposing sides. 

When GLaDOS wakes up, she returns to her antagonistic role, but there are more hints to something deeper just like in Portal. 

Here, in her awakening lines, she references Chell not unlike an estranged ex. Also worth noting that GLaDOS is pretty much the personification of testing (in a sense, she is testing since she can control all of Aperture like an extension of her body), and insinuates that Chell loves to test. And that she reciprocates that feeling.

In test chamber 10, she says this:

It’s supposed to be threatening, but it does read as almost... sentimental. 

There’s also another chamber with companion cubes in Portal 2. I already talked about their symbolism in Portal, and the same pretty much applies to them here. However, GLaDOS says something interesting about them during this level:

Once again, meant to be intimidating, ends up coming off as “well, GLaDOS, why were you going to give Chell a heart shaped representation of yourself that says ‘I love you?’” And you might think I’m stretching the GLaDOS’ heart metaphor thing a little far here, and I might agree, if the companion cubes didn’t literally sing Cara Mia for you. 

Cara Mia is the turret opera from the end of the game, which is all about how much GLaDOS cares about Chell. More on that later. But the companion cubes play a song called Love as A Construct, and when you get close to them, they sing a specific part of the song that has the tune of Cara Mia. These things literally exist to sing about GLaDOS’ feelings. 

Which makes this line a lot more. For lack of a better term. Tsundere-ish.

Then, right before the escape, she starts talking about the confetti from her fake surprise. 

I really don’t have to explain this one. What else does GLaDOS consider an inconvenience but might miss anyway? Or, more aptly, who else?

Then, during the escape, she teases a (fake) final test chamber in front of you, and forms the panels in the shape of a heart. No, really. 

Up to this point, a lot of the points I’ve presented are interspersed with a fair amount of antagonization on GLaDOS’ behalf, more Foe Yay than anything actually hinting at something deeper than GLaDOS being conflicted about whether she loves or hates Chell. But things really ramp up after Wheatley’s betrayal, when the two of them are forced to team up. (I should also note here that “enemies to lovers” is a pretty classic queer romance trope.)

Here, GLaDOS is put on an equal level with Chell and they have to rely on each other if they want to survive. For the rest of the singleplayer campaign, GLaDOS becomes a lot nicer and even friendly to Chell. There comes a point where she starts referring to Chell as a teammate, calling them “we.” She begins to consider them one unit, two opposites unified. Here’s what she says after the lemon rant:

You can not only see her using we, but actively talking about how her and Chell are going to fight Wheatley together. There’s also that last line - “let’s explode with some dignity.” GLaDOS has fully accepted the very likely possibility that she and Chell might die together. That she might die on the same level, and the same team as Chell. And she seems... surprisingly okay with that, as long as she and Chell go together. 

It’s during the Old Aperture levels that Chell and GLaDOS also discover that they have a lot in common. This is the part of the game where GLaDOS figures out she’s Caroline, that she’s human. Or, that she’s like Chell. And Chell discovers (from what we can tell anyway) that Caroline is kind, that she’s funny and smart and so many of these things she never noticed about GLaDOS before. Now also with the knowledge she is fighting alongside another human being. 

You can also draw parallels between Chell and Caroline, both intelligent women ultimately betrayed by their seemingly innocuous male friends before being trapped in Aperture and forced to team up with one another in a way that will free both of them. We see that really, GLaDOS isn’t that different from Chell - she too has been imprisoned in this place against her will, but in a completely different way. Once again, the idea of two sides of the same coin applies here. 

I’ve written another meta about this before, but I also think the whole idea of repressing a part of your identity and hating it, before bonding with another woman and then realizing that it’s okay to be like her and to be on her side. It’s okay to be yourself and meeting her is what helps you discover this new part of yourself. Is kinda inherently gay. GLaDOS’ discovery of her own humanity just fits so well into a queer realization narrative, to me at least.

Then, Chell and GLaDOS escape Old Aperture and have to get through Wheatley’s tests. 

Here, GLaDOS isn’t just begrudgingly on Chell’s team. She’s actively helpful. She wants to help Chell solve tests, defends her from Wheatley’s insults, and makes jokes to lighten the mood. Things that can really only be explained by her caring about Chell, especially the part about the insults. See below.

After the two escape Wheatley’s testing track, right before the boss fight GLaDOS has a few other things to say.

GLaDOS is not going to betray Chell, because of some kind of conscience. But she could easily ignore that back in her body, and yet? Here she’s deciding not to, and for no good reason. She didn’t have to say that to Chell, but she did, because she cares and she wants Chell to live.

And then, moments before the fight:

The final lines imply that GLaDOS does not think of Chell as an enemy anymore, and that it doesn’t matter what Chell thinks because they are in this together and they are getting revenge together. It’s pretty heartwarming to be honest, to know that even in a fight that will almost certainly kill you, she is there rooting for you and caring about you, even if you don’t feel the same way about her. It no longer matters to GLaDOS whether you even reciprocate - you staying alive, you making it through is enough for her.

So Chell fights Wheatley and sends him into space, all well and good, and at this point, GLaDOS has the option to kill Chell. But not only does she not, she actively saves Chell, and holds her hand in the process. If you don’t believe me:

And not only that, but when Chell goes unconscious from her injuries, GLaDOS sits and waits for her to wake up. It’s also implied that GLaDOS carries her to the elevator, since it’s where she wakes up but not where she passed out. In the scene where Chell blacks out, you can also hear the part of Love As A Construct that sounds like Cara Mia. Yeah. Yeah.

If you think that this cannot possibly get any gayer, you are wrong again, because then GLaDOS makes her final speech. Which is really just a love confession, let’s be honest.

The “surge of emotion?” Do you mean love, GLaDOS? And the idea of GLaDOS considering Chell her best friend, despite everything these two have done to each other? The idea that GLaDOS, out of all people, forgives someone?

Except this isn’t even Chell’s final send-off. GLaDOS writes her an entire opera of turrets, that sing a literal love song. (Note what I said earlier about the use of the word “bambina”).

It really can’t get any more obvious than that. “My (affectionate romantic term here), my dear, I adore you.” How. Is. That. Heterosexual. In. Any. Way.

So Chell goes to the surface, set free by GLaDOS (think of the saying “if you love something, set it free), and you think that’s the end. Until GLaDOS gives you a companion cube so you aren’t alone on the journey, and from the burn marks, you know it’s your first companion cube. Her original heart, her first gift to you, a piece of her that she wants you to carry with you to remind you that she does care about you after everything. It also gives the lyrics to Still Alive a much more genuine meaning. 

Portal 2 ends, and then the ending song, another GLaDOS number plays. Just like Still Alive, Want You Gone is structurally a break up song and very obviously about GLaDOS missing Chell and “counting on” (read: caring about/loving) Chell’s tendencies and quirks. 

She’s accepted Chell completely, and yet also given Chell the one thing she wants most. Only wanting Chell gone can mean GLaDOS not wanting Chell in her life anymore, but can also mean she wants to give Chell the freedom she’s wanted for so, so long. It’s the best thing she can give.

In the co-op campaign, GLaDOS also references still caring about Chell.

And that’s the end of the Portal series. Except. Brace yourself. Despite the games being over, there is STILL more subtext somehow. It gets. Even gayer.

Exhibit C: Supplemental Evidence

Valve has made a lot of extra/cut content for the Portal series, and I’ll be looking at some of it below.

This official valentine from Valve shows GLaDOS offering a romantic partner cake, which as we’ve established before, is very symbolic of GLaDOS’ feelings about and/or relationship with Chell. 

There’s a lot of other concept art and official art that emphasizes their relationship too. See below.

There’s also some cut GLaDOS lines that are even gayer than the source material and again, sound like confessions or references to a breakup:

The idea of “discovering things about someone”... how much more obvious can it get?

The developers have even confirmed a lot of my commentary on Chell and GLaDOS’ relationship in The Final Hours Of Portal 2. See these quotes from the book/this post:

The devs literally describe it as a romance. They use terms like “cheating,” they wanted to write a romantic duet, JoCo purposefully wrote the endings like love songs. It is literally, blatantly said by the creators of the game that their relationship is interpreted romantically. By the creators of the game. 

And if Word of God confirmation isn’t enough for you, have a song written for a cut alternate ending by GLaDOS’ voice actress, Ellen McClain. The song is literally nothing but GLaDOS talking about caring about Chell, about not wanting her to die/leave GLaDOS alone, about wanting to bake a cake with Chell, about waiting for Chell to wake her up. It’s so genuinely sweet and sad, and really, really romantic in the most heartwrenching way possible. 

JoCo also came back for the Portal levels in Lego Dimensions, writing one final breakup song for GLaDOS to sing about Chell. It comes off as GLaDOS not wanting to admit she misses Chell even though she obviously does, trying to replace their relationship but failing, and even explicitly forgiving Chell/wanting her to come back.

Also, the “finally I understand,” as if only now GLaDOS understands just how deep her feelings for Chell are... What else can I say?

In Lego Dimensions, GLaDOS also outright rejects anyone who isn’t Chell.

In Conclusion:

Why do I ship Chell and GLaDOS? 

Well, ultimately, it doesn’t matter whether I ship them. 

Because I think it’s glaringly obvious Portal does.

[james-pottersimp]

Reward • James Potter

Summary : After James wins his quidditch game, you decide to skip the after party to give him little reward

Warnings : mommy kink, vaginal penetration, dirty talk, praise kink, oral (male receiving), maybe some degradation, I hope that’s everything

A/N : hi guys, this is my first time writing smut. A big thank you goes out to @bellatrixscurls for helping me again. I love you <3

Red and Gold on one side, Green and Silver on the other. People cheering for their team. Over all the cheers you could hear the voice of the commentator explaining what happens on the field. The atmosphere is tense as everyone’s eyes followed the players flying on their brooms, the seekers trying to catch the snitch while the chasers tried to get some points by throwing the Quaffel through the opposite goal.

Quidditch. Gryffindor against Slytherin.

You were sitting in the front row, your eyes following your boyfriend : James Potter. He was the Quidditch Captain and a Seeker. He was really close to catch the snitch and then

“JAMES POTTER CAUGHT THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WON” the commentator yelled through his microphone.

Every Gryffindor started to cheer loudly, hugging each other while already taking about the after party. On the other side you could hear sounds of disappointment and sadness. You ignored everything while you were running down the stairs to get to your boyfriend.

“James” you yelled to get his attention. He was sitting on the shoulders of his best friend, Sirius Black, holding the Golden Snitch while grinning. You stared at you boyfriend, admiring him for a little while but quickly snap out of it.

“James” you yelled again finally getting his attention. His blue eyes looked down to where he heard your voice. His grin only grew when he spotted you. He asked Sirius to download it so he could go to you. Sirius nodded and helped James off his shoulders. As soon as his feet were on the grass, he ran to you. You opened your arms to him and he took you in his arms lifted you up and spun you around. You started laughing. Oh how he loved to hear you laugh. After he spun around three times he lowered you down, his hands resting on your hips. Now that you were standing in front of him he noticed your outfit. His eyes widened at the sight: you were wearing a red top with golden stripes that showed your tits. You also had a short black skirt that showed almost your entire legs. James was needy all day, but he couldn't do much because he had to practice before his game. It didn't bother him any more until just now

His thoughts started to get foggy and he slips into a headspace that you knew too well.

Sub space.

You quickly realize that James' mind was wandering and that he started slipping into another headspace. "Jamie what's wrong?" you asked your boyfriend whose eyes went back and forth between your eyes and your breasts.

"Needy," he whispered, sounding shy.

"Oh Jamie. How about we skip the after party and Mommy gives her pretty boy a little reward for winning the game" you whisper back so you don’t draw any attention to the two of you.

James nodded excitedly and tugged on your waist to get you to go. You just chuckled at his gesture and nodded. The dark-haired boy immediately grabbed your hand and pulled you towards his dorm, ignoring the questions of his friends just wanting to feel the pleasure your about to give him.

When you reached his dorm, he quickly opened the door, pulled you inside and closed it again.

As you looked into his blue eyes you realised how needy he was.

“Are you really this needy, pretty boy”.

James started to nod quickly.

“Use your words, please” you reminded him. He knew that he was supposed to always use his words but he tends to forget this rule very often especially when he is this needy.

“Sorry Mommy” he apologised quickly “Yes I’ve been needy all day” the boy answered your question.

“Poor Baby boy. It’s alright now. Mommy’s gonna give you whatever you want” you told James stroking his cheek softly. He immediately leaned into your touch.

“Whatever I want?”. James just wanted to make sure that he understood you. His big blue eyes looked at you expectantly.

“Whatever you want, baby. Why? Do you have anything in mind, my love” you asked also excited for what’s about to come. You loved to make James feel good and today he really deserved it. To be honest you were needy too and you had a wet patch in your panties already but James would find this out soon enough.

“Want to eat you out please. Wanna taste you, mommy and wanna make you feel good please. I wanna be a good boy for you. Mommy’s good boy” he pleaded. Everything he wants is to be your good boy. It’s the only thing he can think about right now. Unfortunately you decline his Request

“But it’s a reward for you, pretty boy. You should be the one feeling good, not mommy. Are you sure you wanna eat me out or would you prefer mommy sucking your cock and making you cum”

James really wanted to make you feel good but he was so needy all day so why would he decline your offer. So he nodded desperately pulling you closer to him by your waist.

“Now now, Jamie what did I tell you?” you asked him, removing his hand from your waist again. James quickly realised his mistake and starts to apologise

“M’ sorry mommy. You told me to use my words” the boy said quickly to answer your question not wanting to upset you.

“That’s right, baby. So tell me do you want to eat mommy out or do you her to suck you off?” you repeated your question. Your hand is still stroking his cheek, loving the way his soft skin feels.

“Want mommy to suck me off if s’ okay” he answers now really desperate to feel your mouth. His eyes are still wandering to your chest sometimes. He couldn’t help but stare at them : they looked so pretty in the top that you’re wearing. James wanting nothing more than to touch them but he knew that he wasn’t allowed to just touch without asking first. You put two of your fingers under his chin to make him look at you again, his blue eyes finding your y/ec ones.

“Of course pretty boy. How about you go and lay down for me while mommy undresses herself quickly” you told him while you already started to grip the hem of your top to pull it over yourself but a pair of hands quickly slapped them away. You looked up at James who was staring at his feet out of embarrassment.

“What was that for, Jamie? Don’t you want to see mommy naked?” you question, still surprised by your boyfriends actions.

“N-no no wanna see you naked, mommy b-but I wanna undress you. Don’t want you to do it yourself. Wanna help m’ mommy and be a good boy” he mumbled, his eyes still glued to his feet. Your hand found his chin again, making him look at you. His blue eyes were already slightly teary from being so needy. As he looked at you a little tear escaped his eye and you quickly wiped it away with the pad of your thumb.

“No need for tears, my love. If you wanna undress mommy you just have to ask nicely”.

“Can I please undress you mommy?”. With a firm nod you gave him permission and he instantly gripped the hem of your top and pulled it over your head. It landed somewhere on the floor, you could care less right now. James stood in front of you, frozen in place, his staring at your exposed chest.

“Jamie”. That seemed to make him snap out of it.

“Sorry mommy. Didn’t mean to stare. You just look so pretty”

“You look pretty too, Jamie. Now do you want to continued should mommy do it her-“

“No” James voice interrupted you, making you raise your eyebrows

“No s-sorry, mommy. Didn’t wanna sound rude but I want to continue please” he corrected himself hoping that you’re not mad at him

“There’s my good boys manners. Well, go on then” you stated, grabbing his hands and leading them to the waistband of your skirt. He started to pull down your skirt and your panties quickly exposing you fully. Now you stood fully naked in front of him but James still had all of his clothes on

“Now I think it’s a bit unfair that you get to see mommy naked and she doesn’t get to see her pretty boy”

Understanding that this is his permission to undress himself, he obliged taking all of his clothes off. You found yourself admiring the boy in front of you

“Good Boy” you praised him. “Now go lay down for me so I can make you feel good”.

James scrambled to the bad, laying down and looking at you expectantly. You slowly walked over to him getting on top of him, giving him a kiss on his lips. Your lips started to go down to his neck and then chest sucking a hickey from time to time. As you were finally there when he wanted you, he started to whine impatiently. You looked up at him, seeing him stare down at you with wide and teary eyes.

“Looking so pretty for me, laying there all splayed out Jamie. Such a good boy for me. Are your ready”.

“Yes yes ‘m ready m-mommy. Please pl-“ his pleading was cut off by a loud whine as you took him into your mouth and started bobbing your head. Strings of “thank yous” and “feels so good” started to leave his mouth besides some whines and moans. You hummed around his length sending vibrations through his body making him clamp his eyes shut. This earned him a light slap against his thigh.

“Keep your eyes open, want you to see mommy while she makes her pretty boy feel good. You understand that” you told him after you took him out of your mouth, stopping every pleasure he was feeling.

“I understand, mommy but please please don’t stop. Mommy please I’ll be a good boy” he begged needing to feel your mouth around him again. You nodded and started to take him down your throat once again. James Cock was big, so didn’t manage to take him in completely. You had to use your hand for everything that didn’t fit in. Pretty noises where leaving James mouth - whimpers. Oh how you loved to hear James whimper when you made him feel good.

“Making m-me f-f-feel so good Mommy”. That’s everything you wanted : to make your pretty boy feel good. You decide to play with his balls to add to his pleasure. This action made James throw his head back, desperately trying to keep his eyes open like you told him.

“Oh- oh mommy....so good”

It didn’t take long for his cock to twitch inside your mouth signalling you that he was close. James deserved his release but he knew that he had to ask you first or he would get punished. A punishment was the last things that James wanted because that would mean he is a bad boy and the only thing he wants is to be your good boy.

“M-mommy” he whimpered above you. You kept a steady and fast pace almost pushing him over the edge. His moans started to get louder with every second

“Close” James whined not being able to form a simple sentence due to the immense pleasure your giving him. You gave him a tight squeeze around his balls forcing him to ask properly.

“C-can I please cum mommy, please been a good b-boy for you. Mommy please, need it please please let me cum”. He really craved his release and why would you deny it. You stopped for second to tell him to cum then going down on him again increasing your pace on his cock.

“Gonna ....gonna cum, oh mommy oh” with those words James came down your throat. You swallowed all of it and took him out of your mouth slowly. His breath was uneven and his toned chest was rising rapidly.

“Thank you for making me cum, mommy”

You slowly got up to straddle his waist. Your fingertips traced his chest calmly, finding their way to his face stroking his cheek. He lazily smiled looking at you through dreamy eyes. Pearls of sweat traced his hairline and forehead. You pushed some of his damp hair strands out of his face, a soft smile playing on your lips.

“Mommy?” James said looking at you desperately once again.

“Yes, Jamie?”

“Can you ride me please?” he mumbled so that you could barely understand what he said. Lightly slapping his cheek as a sign not to mumble, you told him to repeat himself.

“Can you ride me please?”

“Oh you want mommy to ride you, baby?”

“Yes please, wanna make you feel good too, mommy. Wanna make you cum and be a good boy. Please ride me please” he begged frantically, his hands grabbing your waist.

“You’re already my good boy, Jamie. But to answer your question yes mommy can ride you” you told him while slowly raising your hips and lining his cock up at your wet entrance. James was a whiny mess beneath you while you started to lower your hips, taking him inch by inch until he was filling you up completely. Then you started to move your hips making James press his head into the pillow in pleasure.

“God, it feels s-so good” he whined.

“You’re making mommy feel really good too, Jamsie” you praised him. James was a sucker for Praise so you did it at every chance you got. His hands were still on your waist, gripping it so hard that you knew it would leave bruises the next day but you didn’t care.

You increased your pace making James moan out your names loudly. His eyes where about to fall shut but he forced himself to keep them open, wanting to see your tits bouncing up and down. One of his hands made its way upwards, reaching your breasts giving it a firm squeeze. Normally he would at least earn a slap on his cheek for this but because it was a reward for him you let it slide. Besides, it just added to your pleasure so there was no reason to stop him.

Your fingertips traced his chest lazily, memorising his abs. Then you started to feel a familiar feeling in your stomach. You were close. Very close. James cock started to twitch inside of you as his whines grew louder, letting you know that he was just as close.

“Close again” he whimpered so quietly that you almost didn’t heard it.

“Mommy’s close too, baby. You wanna cum with mommy?” He nodded vigorously at you offer, gripping your waist even harder.

“Alright, then you have to wait a second. Mommy’s gonna tell you when you’re allowed to cum”

James knew that he wouldn’t be able to hold it in much longer so he let go your breast and put his thumb on your clit instead. He circled his thumb, pushing you closer to the edge. This action made you throw your head back in pleasure and moan out his name loudly. You were also not able to hold it in so you gave him permission to cum.

“Now”

James came hard filling up with his cum while moaning and whimpering, thanking you for letting him cum. At the same time your vision got blurry and you came all over his cock. Your moans sounded pornographic. You slowly rode out both of your orgasms, coming to a stop. James hand was still gripping your waist preventing you from getting up.

“Jamie, can you let me go now please” you asked him softly. He obliged, his hand leaving your waist so you can get off of him. You did exactly that, feeling empty again.

You lay down next to your boyfriend, leaving light kisses on his cheek. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close again.

“You did so good for me Jamie. Made me feel wonderful” you stated, praising him. Your hand found it’s way onto his abs again, tracing them carefully.

“Am I your good boy, mommy?”

“Yes you are. My best boy. But it’s not mommy anymore, my love. It’s y/n again” you told him beginning to get your boy out of subspace again.

“Y/N?” he whispered, his blue admiring you.

“Yes, my love?” you whispered back, looking up again to meet his beautiful eyes.

“I love you”You smiled lightly at this statement

“I love you too, James. Now come on it’s aftercare time”

[yourmcu]

Forgotten (CONTINUED VERSION)

Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader, Peter Parker x Stark!reader (platonic)

Request:

Hello i love your story could you do angsty tony x daughter reader. Wherein the reader has a twin brother and Tony and the avengers prefer the twin brother and becaus of that, the reader became rebel and badass. She always getting trouble and almost drop out student. The avengers and her father were seem disappointed and dont know what to do. Not until the reader involve into car accident and she's critical injured. The reader also slipped to coma. Everyone is devastated about the reader conditione. And they realized that the reader only rebel because she wants to get attention from them. It depends to you what the end come, I just want a full angst this week and I hope you dont mind my English. Anyway I hope your alright.

A/n: y’all wanted it, I finished it :)

Word count: 3,984

(more notes at the end!)

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort? bad writing of an anxiety attack, accident, knife, hospitals

read it on ao3!

gif not mine! credits to the owner^^

Being a genius/billionaire/superhero’s kid doesn’t always sound nice like it usually does.

You were one of the Stark twins, the other half being your brother, Ethan.

The both of you showed signs that you inherited the commonly known Stark trait (intelligence) at a young age. But Tony mostly focused on his son, showing him all his inventions and gadgets, teaching him everything he knew while you on the other hand, were being babysat by Happy or Pepper, sometimes Rhodey.

You tried so hard to get your father’s attention but he always had his excuses:

“I don’t have time for that.”

“I’m busy with Ethan right now.”

“Maybe later.”

At first you didn’t mind if your brother got all the praise and attention. It wasn’t until your mid-teens that you really started to feel left out and ignored.

You were left to frown when the other Avengers never found anything interesting about you, just like Tony did. They all liked Ethan better. The topic of him being the next Iron Man when Tony retires is getting exhausting.

There was this one time when Tony announced that they were all going out to dinner since Ethan got, yet again, a full set of A’s on his report card.

“Did you get my card?” You tapped on Tony’s shoulder lightly.

He gave you a side glance, “ah shoot, I forgot. I’ll go get it tomorrow.” Then returned his attention to your brother.

But he ended up forgetting again the next day and you had to convince your teacher to give it to you instead. Your marks had A’s, but littered with B’s as well, of course that was no match for your brother’s perfect marks.

And that sort of scenario wasn’t just a one time thing, Tony forgets to pick up your report card every. single. time. The messed up part was you and Ethan literally attended the same school, he was just in a more advanced class than you.

As time passed, Tony went from ignoring you to getting annoyed and pissed at you for everything you did. In his eyes, you were always in the wrong. And the reason? You didn’t know.

“Dad? Can I borrow Bruce for a minute?” You knocked on the glass door of his lab to get him to look up.

He didn’t, but responded, “kinda busy with him right now.”

You looked at your fractured arm, regretting your decisions. “W-well, Ethan was training with Nat, and... and he wanted to try the new moves he learned on me. He went a little hard and - I think my arm’s broken, I just wanted Bruce to check it out-”

“Goddammit!” He shouted after you heard a glass shatter. Bruce covered his face with palms, muttering an ‘oh no’.

Tony glared at you, striding to where you were standing. All that was left for you to do was to brace yourself for what was about to come. “See, this is why we never let you do anything with the team,” he spat. “That right there?”-he pointed to your arm-“that’s on you. Things go wrong because you’re in the way!”

“I’m... I’m sorry-”

“Just get out of here.”

Your arm remained untreated after that.

Then Peter Parker came into the picture. Friendly guy, he was actually nice to you. Him and Ethan got along right away when Tony first recruited him. The fact that he treated Peter better than you made you even more miserable. It made you think he never wanted a daughter in the first place.

You first met Peter when he accidentally entered your room without warning, thinking it was the bathroom. Cliche, but that’s what happened.

“It’s on the first door to your other left,” you stated.

“Yeah, yeah okay, thanks,” he turned around to leave but stopped to look at you again. “I’m Peter Parker, by the way.”

“Y/N Stark.”

Peter’s eyes lit up at your last name. “I... I didn’t know Mr. Stark had a daughter - no offense! It’s just-”

You sighed and waved him off. He didn’t even notice the similarities you had with your twin. “It’s fine. I get that a lot.”

After many events of being, to be blunt, treated like shit, you finally had enough. You neglected your studies, only went to school when you felt like it (which was rare). No one cared your grades anyway, so what’s the point? You became a whole new person, you surrounded yourself with the wrong sort of people, causing you to dabble into smoking and alcohol.

Since you were always in trouble, you could recite Cap’s detention speech at school by heart now.

The principal of your school wanted to see Tony to talk about your behavior. Normally he’d make an excuse not to go if it wasn’t that important but he got flooded with messages from the school, so he couldn’t say no.

You had your legs crossed, sitting across from Tony who had his eyebrows furrowed as he listened to the principal. For some reason you didn’t feel nervous. “Y/N barely attends her classes. I’ve seen every attendance. Are you aware of this, Mr. Stark?”

Tony only maintained his usual relaxed posture and avoided your gaze.

“Some students have also seen her smoke in school grounds. We gave her a few weeks suspension for it, but it doesn’t look like she’s learned her lesson.” They pulled out a couple boxes of cigarettes from the desk drawer. “We found these in her locker.”

“You went into my locker?” You shot up from your seat. “You can’t just do that!”

Tony cleared his throat and got up, gripping your wrist. “I’ll take it from here - will that be all?”

On the way out he doesn’t say a word to you, only that his grip on your wrist got tight as you near the car.

“So,” he started the car. His voice was calm, but it screamed that you were in deep trouble. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

You sighed and slouched in the passenger’s seat, crossing your arms. “I’m... sorry you had to know...?”

“Yeah, I’m just gonna be honest with you here,” Tony still doesn’t look at you. “When I found out I had two kids, I got worried about Ethan.”

You let out a snort. Of course he would.

“I didn’t want him ending up like me. But surprise surprise, my daughter did instead.”

“I’m not ‘ending up’ like you, Dad-”

“Then what do you call - this,” he referred to you. “What, you’re just gonna waste your life, drop out of school? You’re a fucking mess, Y/N, and here I thought I raised you right. Sometimes I think: why can’t you just be like your brother?” He had a hard grip on the steering wheel as he drove, the way he spoke affected the speed of the car greatly.

You opened your mouth to speak but you couldn’t fine the exact words you wanted to say. “I... well, I’m sorry I’m not a goody two shoes like him!”

“That’s not what I-”

“Please, that’s exactly what you meant.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Look, I’m grounding you until you pull yourself together, understand?” And he did. He gave new orders to Friday when the both of you got home. You weren’t allowed to leave the compound without Tony’s permission.

Were you giving up that easily? Of course not.

You were on your laptop for the rest of the day, hacking into Friday’s system, the security to the elevator and the entrance. That night, your executed your plan and everything went smoothly.

“This is why you never underestimate me,” you sighed, deactivating the hack once you were out of the building.

Your friend who was picking you up was already waiting a few blocks away from the compound. “I hope you’re cool with me staying over for a couple days.”

“If a bunch of Avengers come and destroy my place to look for you, I’m not going to be friends with you anymore.”

You laughed at out, “oh trust me, they don’t care.”

----

The next day no one noticed your absence, nobody did for another two days. Tony just assumed you were mad about your punishment, so he didn’t think of it much.

Not until Peter came to the compound on the third day, wanting to hang out with you.

“Whatcha got there, Pete?” Ethan asked.

“Star Wars movies. I wanna watch them with Y/N - she could use some company, don’t you think?”

The older Stark twin shrugged, “yeah, I guess she could.”

Peter then headed to the elevator and stopped at the floor where your room was. He knocked on your door and waited a bit, after a few minutes of silence he knocked again, still nothing.

“Y/N? Is it okay if I come in?” He called out. No response. He hesitated a bit, for all he knew you were probably changing or something, or you could be in danger. He went to open the door anyway. “I’m coming in, I’ll close my eyes just to be-”

To Peter’s surprise, your room was empty.

----

You were at a 711 parking lot, waiting for your friends who were buying supplies for a house party. You gave them your wallet, not really caring about anything anymore. Your phone was starting to pile up with messages and missed calls from Tony, Edward and Peter, occasionally from the others as you scrolled pass more.

Without thinking you threw your phone to the ground, cracking the screen, breaking it completely. They’d be able to track you through it now that they know you ran away. You really had no intention of coming back. You weren’t wanted, what’s the point of going back?It’s early but you’ve had a few drinks already. You weren’t sure if breaking your phone was a good idea but there’s one thing you’re sure: you didn’t care anymore.

You didn’t have to turn your head to see who just arrived and ambushed your friends inside the store. They ran out and left you behind. The sound of webs coming out of his shooters was enough for you to tell.

“You shouldn’t be here, Peter,” you sighed defeatedly.

Peter gently took a seat next to you, not removing his mask since you were in public and handed your wallet back. “I don’t understand why you left.”

He took in your awful state. His suit scanned how intoxicated you were, estimated how many cigarette packets you’ve had. His frown deepened at the information.

“I care about you. We all do. Mr. Stark’s not going to stop the search party until you come home.”

You rolled your eyes at the term. “Stupid search party – pathetic – I’m not coming home anymore, Pete-” you slurred and tried to get up but stumbled back, almost twisting your ankle but fell to Peter’s side. “Ow.”

He sighed, struggling to get ahold of you since you always pulled away.

“Stop being so stubborn, okay?”

“If you don’t like my stubborn fucking ass then maybe you should just leave,” you stated. “I’m not wanted there. I got the message. I didn’t run away just to be fucking found.”

Peter stared at you for a moment. He didn’t know why you got grounded in the first place, how you got here and why you didn’t want to go back home. There was something off in the father-daughter relationship, he knew that, but it was news to him that it was that bad. That bad for you to waste your life, to run away. He always thought Mr. Stark was an awesome parent, the way he was treating Ethan, and him…

“It’s unfair,” you ranted. “God, if you only knew how pathetic I feel whenever he tells me off. I’m always annoying to him - not just to him, to the whole team, I’m always wrong in everything I do and it’s honestly tiring? What the fuck do I have to do just to feel loved and wanted?”

You went on rambling while Peter tried to comfort and deny every negative thing that came out of your mouth. He didn’t believe any of it, but the way everyone’s been treating you. He hated that he didn’t notice sooner. He could’ve defended you.

“I have nothing against you, I really don’t,” you sighed. “But you should be grateful they’re treating you perfectly.” You got up and strode to the opposite direction, mentally cursing because your friends ditched you and you has nowhere to go, phone destroyed and everything.

But you were staying true to your word: you didn’t have any plans to go back to the compound. You were going to figure your life out on your own.

“Y/N, I… I’m not leaving you alone out here!”

You were so fed up of the spider-ling. How good he was, how perfect, how Tony clearly wanted him more than you, how he always wanted to do the right thing, because none of you expected what happened next when he went to grab your shoulder. The action was so sudden that it Peter didn’t have time to avoid it.

Knife, shoulder, really deep.

Maybe it was just how wasted you were, because he knew you would never do anything like that.

“You’re really annoying, Parker,” you muttered, not wasting any more time watching him stumble out of shock and pain, sprinting across the streets.

With his uninjured arm, he shot webs while trying to pull the knife (the blade wasn’t even visible anymore on how deep it was) out of his shoulder. There was a loud bang, and Peter never sprinted so fast in his life, not caring less about the pain and blood, because what mattered most was your safety. When he got there, you were far from safe.

-----

A week went by. And during those seven days Tony was on edge, I mean, how can be calm at a time like that?

Peter managed to show up at the compound the same night, breathless and shaky. His state made everyone worried but he wasted no time telling Tony what happened. He got you to the hospital, making sure you were being sorted out right before leaving to break the news.

Tony didn’t think twice and went to the hospital where you were admitted, not listening to Peter’s apologies and leaving Steve to sort everyone out on what they should do.

They didn’t expect you to show signs of waking up after only a week since the accident got you mangled up, it was mostly a blow to the head and as expected, you slipped into a coma.

Right, what happened: an awful timing really, not sure if Peter’s the one to blame but he accidentally stuck you to the ground with his webs, and it just so happened a car was driving at a fast speed – there you go.

Tony made sure you got the best treatment possible. He even went and asked Strange if he could do all the surgeries needed, but he declined, claiming he couldn’t anymore despite the sympathy he felt inside. Instead he asked the best doctors he knew, but still helped out sometimes in any way he could.

You took a breath, trying to open your eyes but the blinding lights of your room and them almost feeling as if they were glued shut from not being open for so long prevented you. You also tried moving your hands, only to feel a warm one rest on top of it, you finally opened your eyes.

“You’re awake,” Tony mumbled, rubbing a thumb on the back of your palm soothingly. “You’re awake and you’re okay.”

“Mr. Stark?” Peter called out, spotting his mentor sitting outside the room where they were doing the final surgery on you. It was his first time visiting, seeing as the knife wound was worse than he thought. “I’m so sorry, I-“

“What happened?” Was the only thing Tony said, not looking up to look at the kid. Peter stood there for a moment but told him everything that happened.

After that and after he made sure you were okay, resting in your room and everything, he let Natasha look after you for the night and headed back to the compound.

The kid would never lie to him but he had to see it all for himself. The Spider-Man suit caught everything through the baby monitor protocol. From when he arrived to the convenient store, when you told him countless of times that you weren’t coming back, and when your drunk self ranted about what you felt.

“What the fuck do I have to do just to feel loved and wanted?”

“He seemed to like both of us equally when we were younger,” you sniffled. “Of course he would, but… my brother just turned out to be special and talented and,” you frowned, “he’s all Tony ever wanted for a kid. Maybe I reminded him of the chick he fucked, I don’t know – must be it, right?”

“Y/N, you’re just as special as-” Peter tried to reason but you threw him a glare. Tony could see the pain and heartbreak in your bloodshot, tired eyes. One that said you didn’t want to hear anything like it anymore. You didn’t want to believe it.

“The thing is, they only want you when you’re gone. Missing. Dead,” you shrugged. “I can take a hint, you know? My only family hates me. My only family doesn’t want me. Now you – all of them – are looking for me… why?” Peter flinched at the loudness of your voice. You truly were broken.

Tony fast forwarded, it didn’t clearly show how you got hit, but he had enough anyway. He wanted to make things right with you. He could only hope that you make pass this, hoping that you’ll let him make it up to you.

“It’s not too late, you know,” Steve said from the entrance to his lab. “Y/N is strong. She’ll make it.”

“Why am I not dead?” You croaked, looking at your father with an anxious expression. You letting out another shaky breath as you struggled to move and look around. “I should be dead. Why am I here-”

“Take it easy-”

“Don’t you understand?” You felt your throat aching, breath quickening. “I don’t want to be here!”

“No, you’re okay. Y/N you’re okay,” Tony tried to calm you down when he saw the lines in your heart monitor go up and down in rapid pace. 

“I’m not - no I’m not - not okay,” you struggled to let out. It felt like you were choking on your own breath, getting harder and harder to breathe by the minute, soon tears started to prick your eyes. “I don’t want to be here!”

“Tony, what's going on?” Steve bursted into the room with an alarmed but calm expression.

“Call Strange. Anyone.” He told the captain but his eyes never left you. He rubbed a part of your arm that wasn’t injured soothingly in attempt to calm you down. “Just breathe for me, okay? I’m here and you’re okay.”

Something about the softness and encouraging look in his eyes made you nod eventually and follow his breathing patterns. He held a glass of water for you to drink, holding your struggling hand softly to get it out of the way.

He’s never looked at you like that before.

Most of the time he ignored you, most of the time he looked at you at anger or annoyance when you’ve fucked something up.

“There we go, we okay now?” You looked away and nodded lightly. That was enough for him. Tony wanted to let you know how sorry he was so bad, but thought against it, at least for now. He was scared you might start freaking out again.

Stephen entered the room with the doctor, the other Avengers following closely behind. The amount of people in the room overwhelmed you a bit, but you were strangely calm because of how your father’s acting. Soft and caring, it made you feel safe.

Both doctors concluded that you had some sort of amnesia. In English, your past memories were blotchy, all of them even from your childhood. Again because of the blow to the head it was already expected. But you remembered the recent ones clearly, which was the reason why you avoided looking at Peter and his patched up arm.

Which also meant it was possible you didn’t remember all of the pain you felt concerning your family. It was unfair on your part.

Strange insisted that you stay a few more days, or one more week, just to run tests and make sure you get enough medicine and stuff.

They decided to see how bad your memory loss was.

“I did that to you,” you still refused to look at Peter completely. “I’m sorry, Peter.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay.” Peter gave you a smile.

You moved to the next person. Red hair, seemed to give off a friendly but civil nature. “Natasha? You’re Natasha.”

The Russian merely smiled and crossed her arms.

“Steve,” you stated, moving to the next person. “You always read old books in the kitchen.”

Steve chuckled, nodding to confirm.

“Ethan,” you smiled as you looked at your twin. He gave you a small wave even if he felt as guilty as Tony about everything even if he wasn’t the one to blame.

You stared longer at the next person, almost shoulder length dark brown hair, he’s wearing a jacket to cover his metal arm but you knew it was still there.

“Ducky?”

Peter let out a giggle, so did you brother.

“It’s Bucky, doll,” Bucky smiled, covering his face with his hand to suppress a chuckle as the rest laughed.

“Oh, right, I’m sorry,” you let out a weak giggle yourself.

You meet Tony’s eyes again, the softness still there.

“Dad,” you stated. “You’re my dad. Tony.”

No, you didn’t completely forget how he treated you. You knew he was annoyed with you, which lead you to think that you did something that made him act that way. “Am I bad?”

Tony’s hopeful expression dimmed. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”

You shrugged. “You’re mad at me, I just… I guess it’s just not clear on why.”

Steve thought it would be best for everyone to head out for a bit so he ushered everyone out of the room except for your brother who took a seat at the corner.

“About that, it’s about time we talked, yeah?” Tony sat on a chair backwards beside your bed. It made you nervous, but you were reassured. “You’re not in trouble, don’t worry.”

He exhaled, resting an arm on the top rail. “You deserve so much better. I should’ve treated you better,” you opened your mouth to ask but he continued. “Look, I haven’t been fair with you and it’s a problem. You’re smart, talented and beautiful. I figured you needed to hear it more often because it’s true. What I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry. I really am.”

Your bottom lip involuntarily trembled. “You – you really mean that?”

“From the bottom of my heart.”

You sighed, a genuine smile plastered on your face. “Thank you. And I’m sorry if I was a pain in the ass-“

“You never were,” Tony shook his head. “You always did your best and I really should have acknowledged it more. Give me a second chance?”

“Of course.”

Tony smiled, getting up and planting a gentle kiss to your forehead.

Everything in life was so much better after all that. Tony treated you and Ethan equally, same goes for Peter. The other Avengers were nicer, not the kind of nice that was almost fake, but it was genuine. All of them were. And you were thankful.

----

TAGLIST: @contanto-que-voce-me-queira @angeldreineedshelp @legendarymcnuggies @zoeyserpentluck @vienmiaprendere @alainabooks143 @hessogxlden

DID ANYONE MISS ME? BC I MISSED THIS PLACE

I highly doubt anyone’s still waiting for this, it was an unplanned hiatus I’M SO SORRY but I decided to post anyway :))

also I hope this wasn’t underwhelming, that’s one of the reasons why I was hesitant to do this but I hope its good heh (I’ve included the parts from my first post as well, just so it feels like a full fic)

WAIT I ALSO HIT 300 FOLLOWERS? INSANE. THANK YOU. I MEAN IT.

[mypoisonedvine]

While You Were Sleeping... | dark!Stucky x reader

warnings: noncon, somnophilia, dp, slight breeding kink, kidnapping, bondage, drugging, pain kink, choking, spanking, slapping, degradation, mention of blood

word count: 3.3k

Thunk.            Thunk.            Thunk.

The sound was the first thing you became aware of.  Your eyes were heavy, so heavy you couldn’t open them, as hard as you fought.  All your effort led to one brief sliver of light, but it was gone so fast you couldn’t process what it was.

Thunk.            Thunk.            Thunk.

You heard yourself moan softly as you tried to stir, but your whole body was half-numb and as dense as lead.

Thunk.  Thunk.  Thunk.  Thunk.  Thunk.  Thunk.

It was faster, and louder, until it suddenly stopped.  Something shifted after that… something outside you, and something inside you.

“Your turn.”

Hearing words tore one more layer of your sleep away, and you managed to open your eyes for just a moment longer, long enough finally to see your surroundings for a second.

You were face-down on a bed; no sheets, just a mattress.  It shifted again, and you realized another weight was settling onto it.  

Something warm ran down your spine.  Fingers?  Was someone touching you?  And not through clothes, but straight onto your skin.

...am I naked?

You fought through the static tingling your tired limbs, and wiggled your arm a bit.  A jingling noise, a tightness on your wrist; a shackle and chain.

“Are you wakin’ up now, doll?”

Bucky? you tried to speak, but your lips wouldn’t move.  You were nearly paralyzed, but conscious enough to move your arm again, shaking the chain louder this time.

“Good,” you heard him reply.  “I’ll be honest, the drugs were a compromise for me.  I want you to be awake for this.”

Your legs were pushed wider apart.  Something hot was pushing against your— no, that can’t be right.  This can’t be happening.  This isn’t happening.

A shift inside you.  He was inside you.  You tried to kick him away but all that came of it was a twitch in your calf.

“That all the fight you got, sweetheart?” Bucky chuckled.  You could feel his hands on your hips, pulling you into him each time he thrusted forward.  You were thankful for the numbness, because you knew this would be painful without it; you could feel how far his intrusion was stretching you, how deep he was inside you.  So deep that you could feel it in your stomach.

Thunk.            Thunk.            Thunk.

The headboard slammed into the concrete wall with every thrust, the sound marking each time he buried himself as deep as he could go.  He was so impressed that you could take all of him, even though it would probably be challenging for a version of you that was fully lucid.  There had been a little blood after Steve was finished with you, so he knew you were being pushed beyond your limits.  But he also knew you could take it.

Well, he knew you had no choice but to take it.  So maybe not so much that you could, but that you would.

“So tight, doll, especially when you try to fight it,” he praised, groaning when your walls pulsed around him again.  “You came when you were knocked out— twice.  Wanna see how many times I can make you come when you’re awake?”

You fought the instinct to writhe in protest, knowing now that it only egged him on.  

“There’s a good girl,” he groaned, “just lay there and take it, honey.  I’m just sorry you can’t feel all of me like you know you want to.  The last of the tranquilizer should wear off soon…”

No, no, that’s the only thing making this tolerable, you realized.  “No…” you managed to mumble aloud, though it was broken and nearly inaudible.

A harsh slap landed on your ass and your body jerked with the pain.

“What’s that, doll?  Can’t hear you,” he mocked.  

“Bucky…” you murmured, still barely able to believe that he was doing this.  He’d acted weird around you a few times, Steve had told you it wasn’t a big deal—

Steve… Steve would help you.

“Steve?” you slurred.

“What is it, pet?” his voice echoed from behind you.

He’s already here?

The realization made your gut sink.  He was already here.  Your turn, you remembered someone saying; it was him.  He’d been here a long time, hadn’t he?

“Want me instead, huh?  Buck’s not doin’ it for ya?” Steve laughed.

“Shut up, punk,” Bucky groaned.  “She’s gonna cream on my cock any second, I can tell.”

“Go ahead then,” Steve encouraged you, “come for him if you like it so much.”

“No…” you managed to sigh again, but it wasn’t to them this time; it was to yourself.  You needed to stop this, because Bucky was right and you weren’t ready to cope with that in this moment.  You needed to hate this, it needed to hurt.  And both of those things were true… but you were going to come in spite of it.  Or, perhaps, because of it.  

You started to sob as your mind warred with your body, as pleasure and fear and dread and disgust were all overshadowed by a deep primal need.

Bucky leaned down, his body crushing yours as his teeth nipped at your neck.  “You’re drooling all over the mattress, sweetheart; our brainless little fuckdoll, so stuffed with cock you can’t think.”

A tingle ran up your spine so strongly that your back arched involuntarily, pushing his cock even deeper into you.  Bucky grinned and you would’ve grimaced if you could move your face that much.  “Oh, you like that, don’t you?  We knew you needed to let go, but you would never do it on your own.  That’s what the drugs were for, to loosen you up a bit.  But you’re awake now, and you’re finally realizing how good it is to be owned, aren’t you?  Nobody’s here but us, baby, we won’t tell anyone how much you love it.  It’ll be our little secret.”

Out of nowhere, you came.  It was dulled and distant as it fought against the effects of the drugs, but undeniable.  You felt hot all of a sudden, like you would burn up, as you shivered and tightened involuntarily.  You could really feel him now, every ridge and vein, every detail sliding along your insides and stretching you impossibly wide.  It felt like it wouldn’t stop so long as he didn’t stop fucking you; your skin erupted into goosebumps, even though you felt anything but cold.

“Just like that, doll… so fuckin’ good,” he groaned, the deep timbre of his voice reverberating through your bones.  “Squeezin’ me so goddamn tight, I could come right now—”

“No!” you yelped.

“Is that the only word you know?” he hissed.

“Not… not inside…” you murmured.  

“Not inside?  Doll, Stevie already filled this filthy little cunt,” Bucky informed you with a purr.  “You couldn’t even tell, huh?  Don’t worry, you’re gonna feel it this time.”

You whimpered but couldn’t put a sentence together, focusing most on not moaning every time he thrusted into you; his balls slapping into your clit was just enough sensation to keep you on the edge, but his thick head massaging your g-spot was too intense to ignore.

When you opened your eyes, you could see Bucky’s long hair falling in front of your face, and his hand reaching out to interlace his fingers with yours.  How could he do something so intimate, like he couldn’t feel the restraint around your wrist as he did it?

“I’m close, sweetheart, you’re gonna make me come,” he grinned, and it was weirdly prideful.  Like he knew that some part of you craved for his approval.  Of course you did; he was your superior, your Sergeant, your boss.  You just didn’t intend for this to be the way you got it.  

Thunk.  Thunk.  Thunk.  Thunk.

You bit down on your lip to keep quiet, hoping you could give no reaction at all.  It didn’t work, because just as he’d promised, you could feel his cock flexing and pulsing, you could feel his seed pumping into you.  A groan of protest slipped from your lips, louder than you’d expected.  It seemed to go on forever, or maybe it was just because you knew the potential this had… he’d said Steve had come inside you, too.  You just hoped they’d let you go in time to get a Plan B.  Surely they were going to let you go soon, now that he was done and they’d both had their turn.

The idea of them taking turns with your body made you feel sick.  So did the rush of hot liquid that oozed out of you as Bucky pulled his cock out.

“Can you go again, Buck?” Steve asked gruffly.

“Sure,” Bucky answered, seemingly just as curious as you were as to why he would ask that.

“Get under her,” he demanded.

“Wh… what…?” you moaned sleepily, trying to understand what was happening.  You were being lifted and manhandled, limp in his arms, as Bucky slipped under your body and wrapped his arms around you.  Your head laid against his chest as you pulled at your restraints again, more determined than before but just as fruitless.

Another weight moved in behind you; Steve, of course.  You could tell by the little laugh he made as his rough hands moved up the backs of your legs.

“Your pussy looks completely ruined,” Steve informed you, “like it was meant to be.”

He reached down and gathered some of the come that had leaked out of you— yours, Bucky’s and his own all mixed together— on two of his fingers and pushed it back into you.  You winced and struggled, even just his fingers big enough to stretch you.  Then again, anything was big enough to reignite the pain in your sore channel by this point.

“But this hole is still untouched,” he added, his fingers slipping out of you and trailing up to— oh.

“N-no,” you moaned quietly, “not there…”

“Not where, honey?” Steve taunted, his wet fingers drawing circles over your puckered opening.

“Not… not in my ass,” you pleaded weakly.  You could hear Bucky’s heartbeat get faster next to your ear.  “You can use my pussy again just… not there, please.”

“Oh, so generous,” Steve grinned, but his amusement turned to anger as he slapped the inside of your thigh.  You squealed with the pain, jerking inside Bucky’s embrace, and Steve hit you a few more times.  “Bargaining with your body as if it’s yours in the first place.  Stupid whore.  Both these holes are mine, you understand?”

You cried out when he hit you again, the telltale burning of oncoming tears starting to sting the backs of your eyes.  But you refused to cry.

“Do you understand?” he repeated, firmer.

“Yes, Captain!” you blurted out, an old habit from when you were at work.  You felt your face burn with shame as both of them laughed at your obedience.

“Such a good soldier,” Steve praised.  “I know you can take it, baby, if you just relax and let it feel good.  I’ll make it good for you.  Buck’s gonna keep that greedy little cunt full, too; won’t you, Sarge?”

“Yes, Cap,” Bucky grinned, rubbing his cock through your swollen folds again.  You hadn’t anticipated that their stamina would apply to this. They’re going to keep me here for a while, aren’t they?

As Bucky teased your clit with his fat and leaking head, Steve pushed his fingers into your hole.  You tried to relax through the burn, gasping and groaning in spite of yourself.

“Ever been touched here before?” Steve asked, curling his fingers inside you until you let out a little moan.  “Doesn’t seem like it.  You were always hard at work, never had time for a boyfriend did you?  Not one that knew how to treat you right, at least.”

“Is this your idea… of treating me right?” you hissed through heavy breaths.  “Knocking me out?  Chaining me up?”

“That was just the only way to get you to let us take care of you,” Bucky explained.  “This is treating you right.”

Before you could ask what he was referring to, both of them pressed their cocks into your holes.  Bucky’s cock slid in with a hint of pain, but Steve’s hit more resistance— not that that stopped him.

You screamed, knocked out of the last of your drug-induced haze and thrown head-first into reality.  Sick, stinging, sharp reality.  Your arms pulled at the chains as your legs kicked wildly.  Steve grabbed your ankles as they swung by, pushing your legs up and holding them down until you were forced to straddle Bucky.  The new angle made you feel somehow more exposed to both of them.

“Shut up and take it,” Steve groaned darkly.  They both pushed in deeper, their cocks getting thicker the further down you got, and your eyes rolled back into your head.  

“That’s it, just let go, sweetheart,” Bucky whispered.  “You can take it, you were made for us, you can take it…”

You were too overwhelmed to process his words, though, as they kept filling you and you wondered if it would ever stop.  You wondered if you wanted it to stop, even though it was painful and degrading and beyond twisted.

“Almost done, honey, you’re takin’ us so well,” Steve cooed.

“She might pass out, Steve,” Bucky realized as he examined your face, tilting your head up to look at him.

“Maybe then she’ll stop fighting,” he shrugged in reply.

Bucky was buried all the way into you, but there was still some of Steve left to take and you were sure it wouldn’t fit.  You already felt so full that you could barely breathe.  Just to rub it in, Steve slammed that last inch into you, knocking the wind out of your lungs.

“Fuck,” Steve sighed, “you feel so good, babygirl.  The others call you a tightass behind your back, did you know that?  They don’t know how right they are…”

“Talk to me, soldier; are you still with us?” Bucky asked, slapping your cheek lightly to get your attention.  You nodded quickly.  “Feel how full you are, doll?”  You nodded again.  “You like it, don’t you?”

You stayed silent this time.  

“No need to pretend, honey, we can tell,” Steve groaned.  “You’re dripping all over the both of us, and your cute little ass is clenching around me.”

“Just say it,” Bucky moaned.  “Say you love it.”

“I… I love it,” you stammered, hoping that it was just to appease them.

“Then ride our cocks, like the little slut you are,” Steve demanded, smacking your ass one more time.  You tried to lift your hips, shuddering with the way it moved both of them inside you, but it was so difficult with your weak and aching muscles.  When you did it again, you fell suddenly with a wavering groan.

“Too weak, baby?  You’re so pathetic; let me show you how,” Steve offered, grabbing your hips tightly and lifting them with almost no effort.  You moaned, properly, as he used your body and dropped you up and down on his and Bucky’s cocks roughly.  “The least you could do is sit up; go on, put your hands on Buck’s shoulders and arch that back, show me how bad you want it.”

The chains were long enough that you could do it, though looking down at Bucky and the metal cuffs on your wrist was a lot to take in.  With a groan of pain, your wobbling arms lifted you up.

“I knew you could be a good girl,” Steve sighed, moving your body faster against his as his grip left bruises in the shape of his fingertips on your skin.

Bucky reached up and wrapped his cold metal hand around your neck, choking you suddenly.  Both men groaned as the loss of air made you flutter around them.  “Fuck, you like that, huh?  You like getting choked, doll?  Dirty slut.”

When he finally let go, it was like all the sounds that had been caught in your throat came out at once.  A groan, a sigh, a moan, and a sob churned together to make something inhuman and debasing.  They were fucking you like animals, you were shackled and bound like an animal, and now you sounded like an animal.

“Do you wanna breathe, doll?  Or do you wanna come?” Bucky growled.  

“I wanna… I wanna come,” you moaned.  The hand on your neck tightened again, and the tingles of lost sensation spread over your body quickly.  You were so close to coming again that you could barely imagine how it happened so fast.  They were reaching every sensitive spot inside you— rather, they were turning every spot inside you into a sensitive one.  The loss of air only pushed you closer, and you wanted to scream but all you could do was dig your fingernails into Bucky’s shoulders as it hit you hard.  You went completely limp in their arms, only Bucky’s hand holding you upright.  He relaxed his grip, still tight enough to keep you completely aware of his power over you, but loose enough that you could breathe.

“Don’t stop coming, sweetheart, I love seeing you do it,” Steve beamed.  “You can give us a few more before we’re done— right, Buck?”

“I don’t know man, she feels really good,” Bucky moaned, choking you again so you wouldn’t interrupt their conversation.

“Get it together, man,” Steve teased, “you can’t get all sentimental on me again.”

“I can’t help it, okay?  Been waiting for this for so long…”  Bucky trailed off, or maybe it was just that your hearing was fading out as the loss of air pushed you towards the beckoning darkness.

You gasped when he let go again, your moans turning into sobs and tears finally rolling down your cheeks.  You’d sworn you wouldn’t let them see you cry, but you couldn’t even remember that now.

“Such a cute little crybaby,” Steve purred, slamming into you faster.  “Can’t take it anymore, huh?  It’s too much for you?”

“Please…” you whispered, so hoarse that you couldn’t recognize it as yourself.

“‘Please’ what, doll?” Bucky pressed, massaging your neck in his palm.

You didn’t know what you were begging for, truly.  Bucky choked you again, grinning up at you and fucking you rougher than before.

“I know what you want: you wanna come again, yeah?  So needy… this’ll be, what, the fifth today?  Go ahead, princess, show us how bad you need us.”

They all started to blend together after that.  Just one big haze, interlaced with so much sensation that you couldn’t parse any of it into separate incidents.  Steve leaned forward to suck a mark on the back of your neck; Bucky used his free hand to twist your nipples and slap your tits, before moving down to roughly rub your aching clit with his thumb.  Bucky came first but stayed inside while Steve roughly pumped into your ass.  Without the distraction of Bucky’s movement inside you, you became more aware of how far Steve’s cock was stretching you.  He came with a cry and Bucky’s fingers pulled another orgasm from you, too.  He never stopped rubbing you there, not even when they’d both stopped moving and you were too exhausted to do anything but take it.  It made your body jolt even though your muscles ached and begged for rest.  You vaguely remembered begging for rest, too, but you didn’t get it until Bucky was satisfied.

When they both pulled out, you could feel the hot sticky mess gush from your holes; it was disgusting, and yet you felt a weak pang of arousal run up your spine.  Bucky slipped out from under you with an exhausted groan of his own, leaving you to flop down onto the bed lifelessly.  

“Get some rest, honey,” Steve encouraged.  “We’ll help you shower when you wake up.”

Any other day and you would’ve needed to shower first before you could fall asleep again, not to mention having your wrists freed from the chains.  But you were already nearly gone by this point, your eyes heavy again as your mind went blank.

The last thing you heard was a heavy steel door slamming shut: thunk.

[pathetic-dumpling]

Coming to Terms

Dream has been having a bad day, which has quickly turned into a bad week. Techno and Phil both need to go out and do essential tasks around the tundra, but they can't leave Dream alone either. So... they find a babysitter. words: 5,188 - read on ao3 instead

CW: overstimulation, implied panic attack, unintentional self-harm, referenced abuse

Dream has been having a bad day. Correction, he’s been having a bad week. He’s been caught in a bit of a spiral for the last several days, and the exhaustion from an attempt at healing keeps dragging him down before he can get out. The last thing Techno wants to do is leave Dream alone like this, but he and Phil have already pushed off as many necessary tasks as they can. They need to head out, but they can’t leave Dream alone… So in comes the Syndicate.

They consider a few people. Niki is chosen.

“Look, all you need to do is watch him for a day. We’ll be back by the end of it, and you can leave, alright?”

Niki scrunches her face up, which is, in all honesty, reasonable. She’s one of the people who didn’t want to interact with Dream, but Techno and Phil are running desperately low on options.

“Is there anyone else?” She asks. “What about Puffy? She’s a therapist, right? Wouldn’t she be more equipped for something like this?”

“A, we don’t want more people knowing about Dream than necessary, and she’s already refused to give Dream treatment. B, we don’t trust her to not psychoanalyze Dream when he really doesn’t want to be psychoanalyzed. Plus, we don’t know what kind of domestic issues there are because Dream hasn’t opened up about that part of his life yet.”

Niki winced. “What about Ranboo?”

“Well, you see, Ranboo’s been growing into himself recently,” Phil interjects, beside Techno. “Which is good, by all means, but that also means he’s been embracing that he’s a little bit of a dick sometimes. You’re literally the only person we can think of who can be… pleasant and hold your tongue around Dream.”

“And- and we don’t wanna sound misogynistic,” Techno quickly adds. “This isn’t a ‘the kind woman puts up with the toxic man’ situation; it’s just… Dream is fragile right now, like, really fragile, and we’re pretty sure you’re the only person who has the kind of self-restraint to not break him any more, you know?”

Niki raises a brow but ultimately sighs. “This is your only option?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Phil laughs.

“...alright. I’ll watch him. One day, got it?”

“Oh my gods, thank you so much, Niki.”

So Niki is given keys to the house. Mentally, she prepares for whatever Dream might try. She saw him, briefly, in a Syndicate meeting or two, but only between several layers of fabric and zero spoken words. She doesn’t know what he’s like if he’s grown out of his… nastier habits yet. Techno has done everything in his power to tell the Syndicate that Dream has changed, but none of them have actually seen any change. Niki kind of doubts it, if she’s being honest, but she trusts Techno’s judgment more than anything. She knows Techno wouldn’t lie to her and lead her on like others in the past.

She wakes up the following day when things are still dark. Niki can see her breath, even within the small haven of an underground city warmed by countless fires and lanterns. She throws on her Syndicate cloak, getting ready to head out to the arctic. Hopefully, Techno didn’t want her to do anything with the animals because she definitely wouldn’t be able to stand being outside for that long. When she arrives, Techno thanks her profusely. He pledges to show her around the house and offers a few tips while Phil gets ready for their trip outside.

“Alright.” Techno swings his hands by his sides. Niki has noticed he’s stopped clapping them when he begins to speak. “First things first, Dream hasn’t eaten in, like, three days, so we really need you to try to get him to eat something. His diet has been pretty limited so far, but we left a list of things he’s been able to eat so far on the counter. Try to stay fresh- anything stale makes him throw up, and so does steak. Don’t offer it. We keep apples in a little icebox downstairs because he likes fruit cold. Also, Dream likes himself cold, too. He gets anxious when he’s hot.

“If Dream hides in his room, he’s most likely hiding under his bed. If you need to interact with him during that time, do not try to pull him out. That will scare him and he might bite. Instead, just kind of lay on the floor and face him and just… wait until he’s ready to talk. If you try to push him, he’ll probably just curl up more, and he tends to get really distant for the next day or two when that happens.

“If he asks for something, it means that he needed it about three hours ago and has only now gotten the courage to ask for it. Even if he prefaces it between a lot of ‘only if you want to’ and ‘you don’t have to,’ don’t believe him. We’re trying to teach him that asking for things is good but it’s been a bumpy ride. Also, he’s iffy on touch; I’d say it’s better to not try.”

Techno stops, tapping his lip. “Try not to let him outside without supervision; we haven’t really been able to block off potential hazards yet. Other than that, I think that’s everything. Dream is sleeping right now, but he knows you’ll be here. He might get startled anyway. Try not to stare or anything. It makes him uncomfortable. Just treat him like a nervous cat or something.”

Niki blinks, trying desperately to process all of the information that was just dumped on her. Techno waits patiently as she mentally backtracks and tries to commit everything to vague memory. Nervous cat? That’s what the ruler of the server has turned into?

“Okay… I think I got all of that?” Niki says, hoping she got everything she truly needed down. She knows how awkward things get when she or Techno has to start repeating themselves.

“Cool.” Techno sighs, running a hand through his hair until it gets caught in his braid. “A nervous, injury-prone cat… That’s Dream. Thank you for doing this, really. Dream just started being okay with being in the same room as boiling water, and I think I might have a breakdown if I have to leave to make tea again. This means a lot. Anything you need from us, me or Phil, we’ll be happy to help as soon as we get back.”

Niki nods. “Honestly, I didn’t think this would be on the agenda when I joined the Syndicate, but I’m happy to help you, Techno.”

“Of course.” Techno bows his head. “Of course. We’ll be back as soon as we can. Again, don’t let him… do anything to himself, okay?”

Niki gives another nod and a thumbs up. “You can count on me, Techno.”

Techno gives a strained smile and then, awkwardly, does a slight bow before leaving. His muffled voice filters through the door as he calls out to Phil, and then they head out. Niki takes in a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before sighing as she watches the silhouettes of her friends disappear over the horizon.

Alright. She can do this. She may not like Dream, but she did agree as a part of the Syndicate to… help. This is just for Techno and Phil, to keep them from worrying. To watch Dream and make sure he doesn’t try anything he shouldn’t. Niki could do that. In fact, she was happy to keep the man out of trouble, if it were for Techno’s sake. Now she just needed to find something to do until there was someone to watch.

Niki glances around the house, finding things pleasantly clean. The chests were a bit of a mess, but things weren’t lying all over the place, and it looks like it’s been cleaned recently. It looks like the house has been somewhat baby-proofed, too, which makes a little chuckle bubble in Niki’s throat. They’ve only been housing Dream, and he’s certainly a grown man, isn’t he? What would they need to keep him out of drawers for?

Niki gets to entertaining herself with one of Techno’s many book recommendations, making a tiny home for herself on the couch. She opens the blinds and curtains, letting any sort of light filter in as much as it can. The sun is slow to rise in the arctic, and candlelight can only do so much. Slowly, as the sun rises over the north, Niki finds herself growing more hungry, so she starts making some food. It gets bright soon after that, lighting up the room with the near-blinding rays of the sun. Niki adjusts soon enough, simply happy to have more than enough reading light.

A few hours later, after Niki has already eaten and taken care of her share of the dishes, Dream emerges. The first thing she notices is that he’s completely maskless. Secondly, he looks exhausted to the bone, drowned in a dark green jacket and a black shirt underneath. Loose-fitting pants cover Dream’s legs, almost completely hiding his figure from view. Dream’s eyes are dark, his posture slouched inward, and his hair is messy, long, and frail. He looks unbearably tense. His eyes squint at how bright it is, but he tries to shake it off quickly with a flick of his hands. He does a quick double-take on Niki, eyes darting around the room before relaxing slightly. His attention never leaves her, though. His gaze makes a shiver crawl up Niki’s spine.

“Good morning, Dream!” She says politely because maybe Dream is worse in the mornings.

Dream waves tiredly, and Niki notices his bandaged finger. Something about it looks off until she realizes it’s too short to be normal, missing nearly the entire first section. She wonders how it happened, how she’s never noticed before. Dream takes his bandaged hand, dragging it down his face. He lets out a long sigh, sitting down at the circular table in the kitchen, leaning heavily on it for support. He raises his hands, and although they tremble and shake, Niki recognizes one thing. Dream is signing.

Oh. It looks like Technoblade forgot to mention one thing.

“Oh!” She says quickly, tucking her book into her chest. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know sign language.”

Dream, from the table, raises a brow at her. He raises his hands, signing what Niki can only assume is: you don’t know sign?

“I always meant to learn, but the only people who use it actively on the server are Callahan and….”

Me. Niki can guess that one well enough.

“Yes… you. I’m sorry.”

Dream waves his hand dismissively. He gestures for a pen, which Niki retrieves without much hesitance. She may not like Dream, but she still needs to communicate with him if this day even has a chance at going well. She places the pen and small pad of paper on the table, stepping back quickly. Dream lets out a long breath before beginning to write.

I’ll show you some stuff I probably won’t be able to translate in the moment, Dream writes. Writing looks a little more challenging with the ever-present tremor in Dream’s hands and his shortened finger, but he makes do. He writes down a few simple words: can’t, stop, no, sorry, and shows the signs for each of them. Niki furrows her brow.

“These are all negative responses. What about… ‘yes’?”

Dream struggles to meet Niki’s eyes for a second, looking away almost immediately. He seems borderline uncomfortable. Slowly, he curls his hand into a fist, nodding it forward twice.

“Yes?” Niki asks in conformation.

Yes.

Niki nods, trying to commit this information, like everything else dumped on her today, to memory. Dream drops the pen after that, cradling his hands in his lap. They certainly… don’t stop shaking. Hm. Niki would ask about it, but she doesn’t really want to poke at any boundaries. Dream fiddles with his fingers, beginning to bounce his leg.

“Em-” Niki starts, catching Dream’s attention and picking at the back of her neck awkwardly. “Techno told me that you should probably eat today, right? I made food a few hours ago, but I can make something for you or….”

Dream waves his hands, furiously shaking his head. He scribbles down variants of I’m not hungry, and you don’t have to, which Niki isn’t given a chance to object to. Dream carefully gets up, grabbing the notepad beside him and pushing past Niki. He makes his way over to the couch, plopping himself down and sighing. Niki watches him, unsure of what entirely to do. She knows what Techno told her, but there was only so much that was truly in her power. It didn’t help how dismissive Dream appeared to be with her attempts at offering him food.

This Dream is… new, to say the least. She didn’t know the old Dream outside of what she heard from her peers, but she especially doesn’t know this Dream. Is he better? Does he know that what he’s done is bad? Terrible? Unforgivable, even? Does he regret it at all, or does he just think he’s a victim in all of this?

It takes two more attempts at getting Dream to eat before Niki’s patience starts running a little slim. She’s never had the time to talk to Dream before, but right now, he just seems nothing more than tired. He looks fine, if not a little skinny, maybe a little quiet. For all Niki knows, this could be a ploy, a trick, to live the high life off of Techno’s dedicated care and then run off into the woods. Niki feels a little nasty for thinking this, but what if Dream is just faking this all? What if he’s just playing it up for show and sympathy? To get free protection while his next plan brews quietly in the background? She’s heard about the lengths Dream was willing to go to in the past; what would make this different? She knows how convincing an actor Dream can be, and dedication to a part can take someone a long way.

Well… Now is as good of a time as ever to get a few things off her chest, Niki supposes. If Dream isn’t faking, he’ll have some kind of genuine reaction, and if he is, then, well… Niki can keep her friends from getting used again. It’s a win-win, really.

“You know, you’re very lucky Techno decided to care for you so much,” she says from the kitchen because the distance makes her feel safer. “He didn’t have to do all of this, you know? It’d certainly be easier for him to have ignored your favor. I would’ve.”

From behind, Niki hears a sharp intake of breath, but no objections come. Niki looks behind her at Dream, still sitting on the couch, wide-eyed and staring at her. He swallows, eyes darting to the side like he’s sorting through his thoughts. He gestures at Niki, a sort of go-on movement, so she turns around and continues. “Things like Wilbur, Doomsday, the festival, you played a role in all of those, you know? You’ve been the authority figure of the server for so long. You-- you had control over exile and Tommy and… Everything you’ve done, it’s hurt all of us. It’s- it’s hurt me, and I-”

There’s a loud, distinct sniffle behind Niki. Slowly, she turns to look behind her, finding Dream curled up on the couch. He brings his knees up to his chest, pressing tightly into himself. He’s looking to the side, almost shameful. His shoulders are shaking.

“...Dream?” Niki asks. Maybe this is the genuine reaction she’s looking for.

Dream nods sharply. He looks up, meeting Niki’s eyes, his own glassy and red and wet. His eyes fill with tears, so he quickly hides his face again, pressing it into the arm wrapped around his knee. It feels like he’s forcing himself to keep his gaze on Niki, and that information tastes a little bitter going down Niki’s throat. He lifts his head just enough to meet Niki’s eyes again, folding his hand into a half square and pressing it to his temple. Niki doesn’t know the sign, but she doesn’t need to.

I know, he says. I know.

Dream takes a shuddering breath, fingers dancing across the parts of the body he’s gripping. They speed up and slow down as he filters his thoughts, eventually coming to a standstill. He grabs his notepad with trembling hands, scribbling down something hastily, ripping out the paper, and holding it out for Niki while hiding himself. Nervously, Niki steps forward because the memory of powerful and quick and ruthless Dream has never left her, even when presented with the sight of the trembling man before her.

I know, the paper says. I want to listen. But not today. I can’t today.

Niki swallows. She looks at Dream, trembling and crumbling in on himself, and nods. “Okay,” she says. “I understand. I… I’m sorry. That was out of line, I...”

Dream nods quickly and sharply. His fingers tap quickly against his leg. Niki feels awkward, standing in front of Dream like this as he fidgets and shuffles. She puts a little distance between the two of them, retreating back to the kitchen. The house is plunged into a small period of unrelenting silence. Niki wished that she knew at least a little sign because maybe things wouldn’t be so awkward. Dream doesn’t look all too thrilled to be talking with her either way, though, so perhaps it was wishful thinking. He’s running a hand through his hair, pausing to tug on the long strands every few seconds.

Niki frowns. Has Techno told her anything about how to handle something like this? Sorting through her memory quickly tells Niki that, no, Techno hadn’t spilled anything helpful for a time like this. He’d asked Niki to make sure Dream didn’t do anything to himself, but certainly, he wasn’t that much of a danger to his own wellbeing, right? Techno had mentioned some other useful things, but he seems to have forgotten some details Niki would’ve loved to have. She sighs.

Niki supposes that the best she can do right now is swallow her words and try to be helpfully polite. To, in kinder words, simply watch Dream. She tried to ask him about some things here or there but mostly ended up talking at Dream instead of with him. That’s okay, Niki didn’t mind. She didn��t really go into today expecting some sort of riveting conversation, and the one she’d already tried to have ended oh-so-splendidly.

Suddenly, the sound of Dream’s stomach growling caught her attention. Niki looked back from her chunk of dough that she’d started kneading to fill the silence at Dream, who was caught like a deer in headlights. He looked to her quickly before starting off on what Niki thinks is a garbled bundle of excuses about how he wasn’t hungry again. Niki laughs kindly, making Dream’s hands pause mid-air.

“I’ll go get you an apple or something,” she says, running her hands under the sink to wash off the extra flour. “Techno showed me where everything was before you woke up. I’ll be back in just a second. Stay put, okay?”

Dream nods, hiding his face and giving a small thumbs up. The trip downstairs is quick, only interrupted by a skulk of three foxes Techno apparently kept in his basement. The box with cooled fruit was propped up, probably to keep the foxes out of it, Niki mused, if the scratch marks on the side were anything to go off of. Dream was sitting in virtually the exact same position Niki had left him in, nervously glancing at her when she approached. At least he’s good at following directions, Niki noted. She held out the apple, waited a long few seconds for Dream to take it, then set it on the table next to him. Dream’s eyes watched her with rapt attention, almost like he was afraid she was suddenly going to turn around and attack him.

After that little experience, Niki went back to kneading dough as pleasantly as she could. She couldn’t explain the small smile that crept onto her lips when the inevitable crunch of an apple being eaten hit her ears after minutes of silence. Niki chalks it up to the fact that Techno would be happy that Dream ate and tries to move on from it as passively as she can.

Shuffling fills the corners of the house between the clanging of various pans and Niki’s humming. Dream had come a little closer, sitting stiffly at the counter and watching Niki work after throwing his apple core into Carl’s stable from the window. He keeps the notepad close to him, bouncing the pen back and forth against the solid surface. Niki greets him and starts explaining what she’s doing, to which Dream nods along. She tries to suggest Dream join the baking whenever she can, moving pans around and into the sink when they’ve become dirty. Dream’s eyes follow her hands as she gestures around, eyebrows twitching downward every few seconds. Every semi-loud sound makes his eyes blink in surprise and something else Niki can’t quite place. It goes on like this for about half an hour, with various levels of participation coming from Dream.

Eventually, he begins to look more and more lost in thought, distracted, even borderline frustrated, eventually dropping his pen roughly and tapping his pointer finger against the counter. His other hand goes to his hair, pulling, as a small whimper tumbled into the air. Dream’s nail makes a quick tap, tap, tap that sounds borderline panicky, only increasing in speed. His shoulders are tense, and because Niki is so used to providing comfort to those unscarred by touch, she reached out for his shoulder.

Dream jerks away as soon as her hand meets his shoulder, a small, distressed noise leaving his throat. He stumbles onto shaky legs, looking almost as if Niki burned him. Niki, in return, pulled her hand back to her chest. Dream holds up a finger, a small give me a moment, before distancing himself. He hangs his head and holds up his hands, shaking them out almost violently as he paces the living room.

“Dream?” Niki begins to ask, watching the man pace and shake his hands. What was he doing? What was going on?

Her thoughts are abruptly cut off by a sharp yelp when Dream suddenly turns and pushes over a chair. This is still Dream at the end of the day, and once upon a time, he was terrifying and dangerous. Niki clamps her hands down over her mouth to keep any further sound from escaping when it makes Dream flinch. His breath picks up in shakiness and speed until a loud crash makes the house go silent.

Dream’s head whips around, finding a pile of shattered glass on the floor next to the chair he flipped over and the table it apparently took on its way down. He stares at it for a good, long second, the breath stolen from his lungs. A quick, strangled sob leaves Dream’s mouth as he drops to his knees, scrambling for the glass pieces. Hot, fat tears fill the corners of Dream’s eyes. His hands are shaking so much it makes the glass pieces he picks up clink against each other. Almost desperately, Dream tries to wipe away the tears, and Techno’s worry about Dream hurting himself suddenly becomes much more apparent as the world catches up to Niki.

“Oh- Dream, no, we- let’s not-” Niki drops to her knees beside Dream, holding her hands out gently. “Let’s not do that, okay? You’ve got glass in your hands.”

Dream doesn’t stop. The tears and sobs only spilling harder and faster. Niki doesn’t think this can get any worse, so she slowly puts her hand over Dream’s, grasping it and pulling it away gently. There’s no resistance, even as Dream digs his chin into his chest. Pricks of blood are already forming on scratches left on Dream’s cheeks from the glass, quickly mixing with tears. Dream starts signing something frantically, and Niki doesn’t know what he’s saying, but, oh, she wishes she did.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Niki tries. “Are you worried Techno will be angry?”

Dream nods, choking on another sob.

“I’m sure he won’t be!” Niki presents her hands, cupped, to Dream again. “He really cares about you, alright? He won’t be mad over a broken cup, okay?”

Dream makes a strangled sound that almost sounds like a “but” as he snaps his head up to face Niki.

“No. No buts.” Niki pushes her hands forward pointedly. “I’ll clean up the glass, okay? I think you should go lay down on your bed and rest. Calm down a little, alright? I’m supposed to be here to help, and Techno would be upset if you hurt yourself. I’ll let you know when everything’s been taken care of.”

Shakily, Dream brings his free hand up to his face, fingers touching the newly formed cuts as his lips trace Niki’s words. His eyes go wide, pressing down on the tiny bubbles of blood forming. He drops the glass into Niki’s hands, staggering up with a sharp breath. He mutters something too faint for Niki to catch before disappearing into his room. Niki picks up the rest of the glass, her hands thankfully much steadier than Dream’s own despite what just happened. Periodically, she glances up to Dream’s room, watching, waiting.

She isn’t quite sure what she’s waiting for, maybe for him to come bursting out, angry at being coddled, or perhaps for him to come slinking back with shaky hands and hot tears and try to help again. Whatever it is, it never comes.

Carefully, Niki spends a few minutes making sure no shards had spread out over the house or that she misses any finite pieces. After her searches come back clean, Niki moves to the knocked-over furniture. She rights the table and chair Dream had knocked over, huffing out a small sigh of relief. The living room was clean again, thankfully. She hopes Techno won’t be mad. That would just make her look bad when Dream was so clearly distressed over the whole ordeal.

At the thought of Dream, Niki makes her way over to his room. She knocks, the wood giving way and opening up into the small room. Dream lays on his bed, curled up into a ball, and appears to be fast asleep. The blankets look almost deliberately untouched around him. Niki steps into the dark room, noting the closed blinds on his window. Everything is kept down to nearly a depressing minimum, the only trace of life in the room being the messy, yet unmoved, sheets and a single flowerpot laying on a chest.

It would be better to let him sleep, Niki thinks. The room is kept cold, and Niki doesn’t want Dream to get sick, so she decides to drape the untouched sheets over Dream’s sleeping form. As she pulls up the blankets around the sleeping body, though, Dreams’ eyes flutter open, and his body tenses. He turns his head to watch her silently.

“I’ve cleaned up the glass, so the living room is good to be in again,” Niki offers. She pulls her hands away, crouching down so she doesn’t loom over Dream. “I was going to let you sleep; sorry for waking you.”

Dream shrugs, not really looking like he had been sleeping in the first place. He sits up, glancing at the sheets pooling around him. Dream glances around, scrubbing at his face and swinging his legs over the side of his bed. Despite Niki’s protests, he gets up and shuffles his way into the living room. His eyes fall on the now empty space on the table, sucking in a soft, shuddering breath. Niki comes to stand beside him.

“Hey,” she says. “It’s okay. I’m not angry, and they won’t be either, okay?”

Dream’s eyes flit from the table down to Niki. His body, slouched forward, leans a little closer to her as he nods silently. He looks back to the room, eyes squinting. He shoves his hands in his pockets and produces the pen and paper he’d kept on him; scribbling down, can you close the blinds? Niki smiles. She needs to encourage him to ask for things, too.

“Sure.”

Dream makes a home for himself on the couch. He eyes Niki’s book and they make idle chatter over it, Niki sitting across from him in the chair. They slide the notepad between each other on the table, both patiently waiting for the other to read or write before responding. Dream apologizes for the outburst. He said that he was feeling overwhelmed and hasn’t had to deal with something like that in a long time. The apology was accepted. Niki even manages to get a small laugh out of Dream, one that tugs gently on his throat and makes his chest stutter. It’s nice to see Dream’s smile, the way it cracks his face as he chuckles to himself. Somehow, it’s the most pride she’s felt in a while.

When Niki gets up to make herself some food, Dream takes her up on the offer to eat together. The list Techno left with what Dream could eat suddenly became very useful when preparing dinner. He doesn’t eat much and apologizes about it, for the hassle he must be causing, but it was what Niki was expecting anyway. Dream goes to sleep soon after that, pausing at his door and sending a quick, earnest thank you to Niki. She smiles.

“You’re welcome, Dream.”

Techno wasn’t mad, and neither was Phil. They seemed more focused on the fact that Dream actually ate a decently sized meal for the first time that week than anything else. Dream, who was hovering in the back, made sure to send Niki off with a little wave.

If she feels a little protective over him during the next Syndicate meeting, that was only her business. If she spoke in a hushed tone and kept an eye on him so he wouldn’t get into trouble, it was just general caution mixed with a bit of care. When she brought the loaves of bread with her on a visit, they were for Techno, Phil, and Dream, but she couldn’t deny the tiny bit of excitement that bloomed in her chest when Phil suggested Dream learn how to bake to help with tremors and outbursts.

If she let Dream into her stash or secret recipes for pies and bread, it stayed between them. Dream promised to keep them secret, and Niki didn’t doubt him. He smiled at her one day, growing nicely into the freckles that had started to speckle his skin, while his third batch of experimental dough was baking. Niki couldn’t help but smile back.

[dreamii-yume]

AAAAHHH IT’S FINALLY TIME FOR LEONA’S BIRTHDAY CRUMBS <3

Can I pls request a crumb for Leona that is both spicy and sweet.......like his s/o catching him off-guard during s*x with her tight hugs, soft intimate touches, and verbal I love yous..........she is just wholesomely attacking Leona with geuine love in the middle of his hornii birthday sex present (*≧∀≦*)

Bye I’m going to hide under a rock and cry as I count down the days between this early request and Leona’s actual birthday

Hah— I know this request clearly wanted pure fluff, but like…Yume doesn’t function properly without adding anything fucked up to write lol LISTEN, I was never good at fluff okay (＞人＜;)

Warnings :

Stockholm Syndrome, Misogyny, Unhealthy Relationship(?) but healthy??? cause you were “happy” in the end wat, Yandere, Implications of Past Non-Con/Dub-Con, Abduction, Forced Feminization(?) like— what do you call when you get forced to become their wifey huh

So, I can imagine this scene only happening when Stockholm Syndrome kicks in hard lol Maybe Leona being the bastard that he is had you kidnapped and tucked in nicely inside his home like the pretty little mate he always imagined you to be for some time now. Days, weeks, month, years— You don’t know how long you’ve been trapped in this place, but all you knew is that it’s long enough for you to slowly call this place home.

…You have a faint memory of resisting as hard as you can for the first time, kicking and punching away your captor until you get tired. You wouldn’t let Leona touch you at that time, but the guy never listens to you in the first place and gets overpowered by him in the end. You tried escaping once, but proved to be futile when you realized how no one even gives a shit about what Leona does to you each day— Thinking about it now, you realized why that is, considering you were the second prince’s chosen mate after all, only the bravest soul could only dare to touch you at this point. You tried hard to keep that fire in you for as long as you can but— every touch, every bite, and every punishment you received with the sole intention of changing your everything for Leona had quickly diminished your will.

—And it paid off, because now…You don’t even remember why you were that resistant in the first place.

What’s so bad about being trapped in a palace where you literally can be given anything you want? What’s so bad about becoming the second prince’s beloved wife? Other woman would kill to be in your place, so what was your problem? Sure, being a part of a royal family demands a lot from you, always dictating how you should and shouldn’t act, what you should and shouldn’t do as the prince’s wife—but regardless, you were still well-loved, weren’t you? Doesn’t it feel good when someone can do this much for you? To have someone constantly showing you affection through bone-crushing hugs, forceful kisses, and bites that rips through your flesh?

Yes, it felt good, you were just too prideful to admit it back then…That must be it. You felt stupid every time you thought about yourself behaving the way you did.

Now that you’re more complacent, behaved, and accepting…Leona, too had become way gentler than how he was before. Instead of abusing your skin, he now kisses every single bruise away, and instead of forcefully spreading your legs open, he embraces you to make yourself comfortable on doing the action yourself. To think of how much you were crying on the first time he teared your hymen open for the first time, now turned out to be something you grew to love after a few more times of the same thing happening to you…It wasn’t that bad.

Even now as the man you can finally call your husband grips your thighs and buries his cock deeper inside you within every thrust, you can finally say how good it felt without a tinge of humiliation. With your legs wrapped around his waist and clinging on his toned chest for dear life, you moaned blissfully as another surge of orgasm escaped you. However, battered your body feels, or how light-headed you feel, you knew well that your everything craves for more— and Leona hasn’t even cum yet, what kind of wife would you be if you can’t even give your husband the pleasure that he deserves? It’s his birthday too, so you have to try harder than usual. So, wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him closer to give him a better angle, just enough for him to thrust his massive cock onto a place he had never been before.

Leona himself couldn’t help but be amused of your actions, gripping your jaw and raising his eyebrow in a teasing manner. “…So, when did you get so assertive, huh?” He said, chuckling as you kept on moaning at every thrust. “You were so cute and shy back then, now you’re actively sucking in my cock like you don’t ever want to let go of it.”

You gulped. “…B-Because— It feels good…I-I want more…!” You muttered in between moans, before reaching out and cupping his cheeks closer to you. Leona blinked as you give him a wide smile, the large blush spread across your cheeks just quickly sums your state of mind perfectly. “Especially…If it’s you…I-I…”

“…I love you…”

Leona somehow slowed down at that, widening his eyes slightly at what you said. For all these years, he was used to hearing you cursed at him constantly at whatever he does, your lovesick eyes used to be so full of hatred, you know? Even when you started to break from the pressure, the best that he could get from you was your uncontrollable cries, one that shoots a pang of guilt in his heart…But hearing you say something completely different from what he was expecting this time— It felt nice on the inside, if he’s being honest. “…Heh.” He smirked, leaning closed to your heated face until his forehead was touching against yours, chuckling as you playfully closed your eyes. “You know what—“

“…I like you better now, you’re so much cuter like this.” He said, as he wrapped his lips around yours, in which you gladly returned. His tongue danced with yours, exploring your cavern and you let him in unconditionally, trailing saliva down your jaw. “I love you too, herbivore.”

“I’ll make sure for you to never forget that.”

Aight, I know it’s not the time to say “ey darlings im back uwu” lol but Ey Darlings~♥︎ I’m back, (UwU) Just finished contemplating on some shit—