#how i long to stop the sound and choke it out into something strangled with my very own fingers. my essence is poetry

[outlying-hyppocrate]

positively despising how my consistent personality is leaving me and how i resort to such strange lies

[pseudowho]

Good Boy

The first time you called Kento a good boy, his mouth was between your thighs on the sofa, three fingers thrusting inside you, tongue and nose stroking between your folds like your taste would wash away his terrible, awful, no-good day.

Your hips bucked up off the pillows against his mouth, and you gasped, tugging Kento's messy blond hair at the roots; "oh fuck...Kento just like that, don't stop, fuck...such a good boy."

With a sharp intake of breath, and a shuddering moan, Kento came down his thigh, cock leaping in its confines, pyjamas soaked and sticking to him as you reached your peak, thighs clamping against his head. Stunned, Kento raised his head, staring at you in reverence with glistening eyes and a pink blush across his cheeks and nose.

"Kento, did you-- I didn't even think you were close--" you breathed, still panting, and Kento blushed harder. You giggled, a hand over your mouth. With a wicked look in your eyes, you tugged Kento's hair, to pull his face back to your pussy, "but you are a good boy."

Kento shivered again, mortified by how sinfully sweet it felt, to be called a good boy after such a dreadful day.

Ever since, his every bad day could be improved by your softly whispered praises.

Between your legs, his back was against your chest in the bath. You stroked his aching length with soapy hands, squeezing at the tip, wet little sucks coming from the water as your fist swirled around his cockhead. Kento gripped your legs, the sides of the bath, his blond head rocking from side to side as he moaned, a low, desperate, gravelly sound.

Your tongue traced his ear, nipping gently, and Kento shuddered, his orgasm close, but not yet there. He just needed something...something more...something different.

"Please," he begged, hips bucking involuntarily into your soft wet hand, "please..."

You moaned ever so gently into his ear; "I want to see you twitch while you cum...good boy." Kento groaned, long and steeped in ecstasy, almost blinded by pleasure as his orgasm hit like a starfall. You swore you could cum from the image of him alone, convulsing against you, white-knuckles gripping the bathtub, gasping, cock jerking warm spurts of his seed into your hands.

Another day, sat at his desk, his head in his hands and trying to contain his throbbing headache, you sidled over to him. He gave only the briefest hesitation when you sat in front of him, your skirt tucked up around your waist, pushing his papers aside. The briefest parting of your legs showed your panties wet, all for him, pushed to the side of your poor clenching pussy.

You pulled Kento to you by his tie, and by the time his lips met yours, he was already feeling fire and spice run down his spine from the intoxication of you.

Gripping him close, as he necked you like an eager virgin, you felt the insistent push of his cock against your puffy lips, and rocked your hips forward to invite him in.

Broad hands clasping at your arse, fingertips bruising, Kento saw a burst of petals and stars as he sank into the plush heat of you. He stayed this way, cockwarmed, as you stroked the day off his shoulders, rocking him, hushing him with his cock twitching deeply inside you.

Your hands worked into the knots of his mountainous shoulders, feeling the aching muscles roll and ripple under your fingers. Kento couldn't help but buck into you, moaning desperately into your neck, trying to stop his thrusts chasing your pussy away. He barely pulled out, just needing to be deeper, closer.

Your hand trailed off his shoulders and to his tie, and you spun it around gently so it trailed down his back instead of his chest. Giving it one slow, choking tug, you whispered to Kento; "you deserve all the best things in the world, my Kento...my good boy."

Kento choked against his tie, his knees almost buckling as he came, biting into your neck with a strangled growl, cum pouring against your cervix, and he bucked like it was his first time inside you.

He was shaking and sated and doe-eyed as he nuzzled your neck, always so happy to be your good boy, when the work he did never complimented him for his efforts.

[anakinsdove]

𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 | 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐤𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫

pairing: anakin skywalker x reader

summary: he’d like to make you cry, but in the process he’ll cry too.

c/w: nsfw, sfw, fluff, choking, dom/sub dynamics, dacryphilia, (listen to pretty when you cry by Lana del rey)

discord - twitter: anakinsdove

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! ｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。Love you

𝘄/𝗰 - 1,263

Anakin loves you, he loves so fucking much, he really does… there’s not a single doubt in his mind and he hates to pretend that he doesn’t love you, the Jedi code, no attachments, only if they knew, he’ll destroy the galaxy to save you, he’ll kill everyone to save you, he’ll kill himself to save you.

This isn’t how it was supposed to be, you’re under him while he pounds you mercilessly, his hand tightens around your throat making it difficult to breathe, to think, to care, he wants you crying, crying for him and begging for him, but when he looked at you, despite the naughtiness of the act, he only sees love, his wife and reason to exist, his entire universe. Anakin can’t help it when he feels tears welling up in his eyes.

You’re there, eyes closed head rolled back, tightening around his cock as it kisses your cervix painfully delicious, milking him. He’s there on top of you, furrowed eyebrows, mouth hanging open ans his hand grips you hips tightly to keep you in place, a bead of sweat falling from his hairline, fighting the urge to close his eyes as pleasure overtakes him.

You’re not going anywhere, you’re not going to slip away and disappear if he closes his eyes for just a second, he tries to fight his thoughts, he growls and comes down to kiss your cleavage sucking marks into your skin, bruising you the only way he’ll ever will and taking your pebbled nipple into his mouth, his eyes won’t leave yours… he massages your other boob pinching your nipple with his index finger and his thumb, your back arches accidentally and you let out a strangled cry.

Your hands pull at his hair and anakin groans muffled by your skin then takes your wrists and pins them over your head with one hand, switches to your other boob so she can receive the same treatment, he’s so eager to please you, he’s eager to make you love him even when you already would sell your soul to be with him, he just doesn’t get it, he doesn’t get it how can he have something so fucking good in his life… or under him precisely.

“Keep your hands in there will you?” You nod dumbly staring at his frowning expression…. “Ani-” “Take it” he says and you wonder how long is going to take him to cum, his cock pulsates inside you and he already dragged 3 orgasms out of you but it’s not enough, he wants more… your pussy is sore and unbelievably wet he doesn’t ever want to leave.

The sounds of skin slapping get louder as he moves erratically against you, he’s getting tired but he won’t stop, his grip loosens up on your wrist releasing them, you take the chance to dig your nails in his back, he groans, it’s painful, it’s perfect… dragging them slowly scratching him… hurting him, the only way you’ll ever do.

“Tell me you love me” his voice is strangled

Everything is blurry, your tears are blurring your vision “I love you” you say, but it’s not good enough.

“Again”

“I love you”

“A-Again!”

He’s losing it, he’s so close, so close to let the white pleasure take over him completely, the kind of pleasure that makes him see stars, the kind of pleasure that will make him hold you so tight it’ll leave marks. “I love you Anakin! I l-love you so- f-fucking much!” That sends him over the edge, and his eyes roll back into his head and hides his face on the crook of your neck, his mouth hanging open, brows furrowing together, it’s too much for him.. who would have tought that Anakin skywalker, also known as “the hero with no fear” by the rest of the galaxy would completely come undone by someone telling him they love him.

Your 4th orgasm of the night hits you without warning as you were concentrating on the beautiful man on top of you, watching him unravel… your back arches prettily as you let out a cry, of pleasure, of pain, of overstimulation, love, everything… it’s the most beautiful noise anakin has ever heard, you lay there exhausted panting and holding him tightly… closing your eyes in pure bliss when you suddenly feel his still hard cock moving inside you again.

“Anakin!” Your pussy clenched around him making him moan… “One more” he says breathlessly “I need one more” tears well up in your eyes at the overstimulation nodding at him as you cry quietly… you’ll do anything that he ask. “Gonna pound you now” he warns.

It hurts for him too, his cock is too sensitive for this but he wants it, he needs it, the sticky mess between your legs only encourages him to fill you up again as the sticky cum drips from your pussy, his hand slides down to your sensitive yet untouched clit to draw tight little circles.

It’s the best thing you’ve ever felt in your life, you hold so much love for him in your heart that it’s almost impossible to think about it without without crying because loving Anakin Skywalker is overwhelming, it’s raw and addicting like a drug, you’re completely high on him and the best thing is that it’s mutual, it’s everything you could ever wish for, he would do anything that you ask, no questions, it’s scary but devotion is everything and if breaking the Jedi code had consequences you’re disposed to pay them, whatever the price is to keep living this life.

“I love you y/n” Anakin breathes out

“You belong to me” he stops rubbing your puffy clit to bring his fingers to your mouth making you choke on them pressing on your tongue so you can taste yourself “Say it”

“I- i belong to you” it’s unintelligible but he smirks

“You’re mine” he growls

“I’m yours”

“No one else’s”

“No one else’s”

You keep choking on his digits as his tip hits that spongy spot inside you perfectly “it’s okay i got you” he says, his mind recognizes the signs of your body when you’re close, not only to cum but to break… “i want you to cum okay? Want you to milk me my love… t-take what’s yours, I’m yours do you understand?”

The pleasure is unbearable and your body comes undone in his arms, anakin captures your lips and muffles your cries, it’s a clumsy kiss considering he’s coming undone on top of you too, he slides his tongue in your mouth tasting you, you taste so sweet and he’s already drunk in you. His hips stutter as more cum drips from your pussy… he wasn’t intending to breed you tonight but maybe he did… he finally breaks the kiss and you’re both left in silence only heavy breathing can be heard… Anakin rests his head on your chest and sighs.

“You’re everything to me” he says and you play with his hair delicately making his eyes close involuntarily getting lost in a different kind of pleasure

“You’re my adoration Anakin” he grins like a child, pure and only happiness behind it

“D’you think you can tell obi wan you’re not going to this mission?” He says

“I don’t know, do you think master yoda is tall?” his boyish giggle warms your heart…. “Hey…. I’m yours until tomorrow, we’ve still got plenty of time alone together” your fingers tug delicately at the roots of golden curls.

“Tomorrow” he says

“Tomorrow”

masterlist 𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗱𝗼𝘃𝗲 © --- all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/ copying will be tolerated.

dividers - @i92-93

[steddielations]

Eddie’s missing. Steve can’t form a coherent thought beyond: Eddie’s missing, find him. The last few hours, it’s been his every thought, his every action.

There’s never a smooth visit to Hawkins. Eddie’s reputation has only gotten worse in the years since they moved to Chicago. Every time they come back, something goes wrong. But Eddie wanted to spend Wayne’s birthday with him, which also happens to be his mom’s birthday. That’s why he put on Wayne’s Muddy Waters record after a few drinks too many, mumbling, “Doesn’t sound the same.”

One second, Eddie was drunkenly rocking to the music, then he went outside for a smoke and didn’t come back. 

Wayne shouldn’t be out in the cold weather, but nothing could stop him from getting in his pickup to look for Eddie.

Steve’s mind jumps to nightmare conclusions. Eddie still has enemies, maybe they’re finally taking their revenge. Or what if they hadn’t destroyed the gate afterall and something worse took Eddie? Steve’s mind skipped every small explanation, but that detail about Eddie’s mom comes back.

He’s searching backroads and the thought leads him down Philadelphia street. No one goes there anymore, convinced there’s more ‘Munson victims’ buried where Eddie’s childhood home once stood.

Steve sags with relief when he shines the headlights and sees Eddie among the piles of old burned wood.

“Eddie!” Steve’s already jumping out the car, hurrying to him, “Oh God, there you are. What are you doing out here, baby? You okay?”

Eddie doesn’t seem to realize Steve’s there, frantically digging through the rubble. Looking for something.

“Eddie?” Steve reaches him, crouching down next to him, “Hey, what’s going on? Are you hurt?”

Without looking up, Eddie mumbles something like, “Can’t find ‘em.” 

“Can’t find what?” Steve asks, keeping his tone soft despite how worried and confused he is. Eddie doesn’t answer. There’s random cuts and splinters on his hands, covered in dirt and soot but he doesn’t slow down. Steve winces at the sight and reaches for his shoulder, rubbing gently to get his attention. 

“Eddie, look at me, hey. What is it? You can’t find what?”

Finally, Eddie turns to look at him. Though, his stare is a thousand miles away, eyes wide and bloodshot. The headlights show tear tracks through the soot dirtying his face. It’s like he’s in a trance, still mumbling things Steve can’t quite make out. He can smell the beer on Eddie, but he knows this isn’t just from drinking. Eddie gets stuck in his head sometimes, like in the boathouse all those years ago. Reliving nightmares from '86, and things that happened to him long before that too. 

“Her records,” Eddie stresses, “My mom’s records. I left them right here.” 

Steve looks down where he points to nothing but charred, rotting wood. There hasn’t been a house here in years. Steve remembers the fire, everyone said Eddie did it just because he was a ‘no good Munson’. Steve didn’t learn the real story until later. Eddie told him about the records, how they burned in 84 when all his dad’s scheming backfired.

“Eddie…” 

“They were right here!” Eddie interrupts, almost like part of him knows what Steve’s going to say and he doesn’t want to hear it. “I left them right here and now I can’t find them.” 

With a half-choked sob, he turns back to scouring through the rubble.

“Hey, It’s okay.” 

“No it’s not. I gotta find them, Steve, they’re all I have of her,” Eddie strangles out, flinching when Steve’s hand slides behind his shoulders.

Steve swallows down the emotion swelling in his chest. Feeling powerless to really do anything, he says, “Okay, we’ll— we’ll find them. It’s okay.”

That’s the only thing that seems to ease Eddie. Though, the way he slumps seems like he knows it’s not true, but lets himself believe it anyway. Just for the comfort. 

He’s breathing raggedly, shivering in the cold and every sob rattles his body under Steve’s hand. Finally, he lets himself sink fully into Steve, his cold wet nose pressed to Steve’s collarbone.

“S’all I got. Momma’s music,” he keeps repeating as Steve rubs his back, so drunk and so sad, “Gotta get ‘em back. S’all I got left of her.” 

“I know, baby, we’ll find them.” Steve presses kisses into Eddie’s forehead, holding him and rubbing his back. It’s not the truth, Eddie knows that, but he doesn’t need the truth right now. So Steve says it again and again, as long as Eddie needs to hear it. “We’ll find them.”

[waitimcomingtoo]

Somewhere In The Haze

Pairing: Peeta Mellark X Reader

Synopsis: Peeta returns from The Capital but he isn’t the same

As soon as you heard the news that the rescue team had returned from The Capital, you ran to the infirmary. You passed Johanna on your way to find Peeta and stopped in your tracks. She barely got two words out of her snarky speech when you pulled her to your chest and kissed the top of her shaved head. You ran before she had time to react and passed Finnick and Annie’s romantic reunion and grew giddy over the thought of you and Peeta reuniting in the same way. Your eyes scanned the room and eventually fell on Gale, who you ran to hug.

“I’m glad you’re safe.” You told him before pulling away. Gale watched the way your eyes darted around the room and he let out a sigh.

“He’s in there.” Gale said without meeting your eyes as he nodded towards a room to the left. You broke into a smile and felt your heart skip a beat.

“Thank you.” You said sincerely before running towards the room. You pushed on the door handle but were suddenly pulled back by Haymitch.

“Hold on, sweetheart. I know you’ve been waiting a long time to see lover boy again but you should prepare yourself for what you’re about to see.” Haymitch warned you. You felt a flash of anger towards Haymitch for trying to stop you from going in there and shook your head.

“I’m fine. I don’t care how he looks. Let me in there.” You said and tried to push the door open.

“You’re not fine. And neither is Peeta.” Haymitch tried to prepare you. The gravity in his voice made you stop trying to push past him.

“Why? What’s going on? Is he okay?”

“There’s something you should know.” Haymitch said after a beat of silence. You couldn’t take the anticipation anymore and pushed the door open. You ran inside and pushed open the second set of glass doors with a giddy smile on your face.

“Peeta? Peeta, I’m here.” You shouted as you burst into the room. You watched Peeta’s head perk up at the sound of your voice and he ever so slowly turned his neck to see you. When you saw the state of his bruised and battered face, looking much worse than you had seen from his Capital interviews, your smile dropped and you felt your heart shatter.

“Peeta.” You breathed out. Your heart ached for him so you slowly reached your hand out to touch his face. Peeta backed away from your hand as if in fear and your face twisted in confusion.

“Peeta, it’s me.” You assured him and reached out again. This time, he aggressively swatted your hand away befriend lunging at your neck with both hands. He slammed you into a glass cabinet behind you before throwing you onto the ground by your neck. You barely had time to gasp for air when he got back on top of you and started to strangle you. You tapped the side of his arms to try to get him to let go of you as you struggled to breath.

“Peeta, stop. It’s me.” You wheezed out.

“I know.” He growled and tightened his grip. You watched the corners of your vision darken as the last of your breath left your lungs. The last thing you saw before passing out was the feral look in Peeta’s eyes as he choked you.

When you woke up, your body felt sore and heavy. You had hoped the interaction with Peeta was just another one of your nightmares, but the brace around your neck told you it was all too real.

“I’m sorry. I tried to warn you. That’s not him.” Haymitch said from your bedside, making you jump. You opened your mouth to speak but only a croak came out. You gulped and braced yourself before trying again.

“You’re right. It’s not.” You croaked out.

“I’ll let you get some rest. We can talk about it when you’re feeling better.” Haymitch said with a pat of your hand. You quickly grabbed his hand and pulled his back.

“I want to talk to him.” You croaked.

“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”

“I’ve waited to see him every day for the past 8 weeks. I need to see him.” You said with painful gasps of air between each word.

“Y/n, that wasn’t just some disorientation from his sedation wearing off. Peeta went through intensive torture while he was in The Capital.” Haymitch told you.

“What kind of torture?”

“It’s a method called Hijacking. They inject him with trackerjack venom and show him altered pictures of his life. It’s a form of fear conditioning. They have programmed his mind to see you as life threatening.”

“Can you reverse it?” You asked.

“We’re trying. But we have little to no experience with this sort of thing.” Haymitch sighed.

“Let me talk to him. He just needs to see my face.” You said and tried to sit up.

“You really want to go back in there after what he did to you?” Haymitch asked as he pushed you back down onto your bed.

“If it’ll help him get his memory back, then yes. He’d do it for me.” You said decidedly.

“You’ve never been one to accept “no” for an answer, have you?” Haymitch sighed, knowing he would never get through to you.

“Nope.”

“Fine. But we’re cuffing him.” He reluctantly agreed.

You were escorted back to Peeta’s room with an entirely new feeling in your chest. Last time you were coming to see him, you were giddy and hopeful. Things had been so good between the two of you on the last night in the arena. As you walked to his room now, you felt pure terror. It was like Peeta was possessed by a malevolent spirit that stripped him of every identifying feature you had grown to love. You pushed that feat to the side and entered his room.

“Peeta?” You asked as you pushed through the door. You could see the way Peeta immediately tensed up at the sight of you, so you stayed by the door as not to scare him.

“What are you doing in here?” He asked in a low voice.

“I came to see you. I’ve missed you.” You said as you immediately forgot to keep your distance and took a step towards him. You instinctively reached out to touch his bruised face, but withdrew it when he gave you a disgusted look. Instead, you folded your hands together and gave him a weak smile.

“You look terrible.” He stated, making your smile drop.

“You’ve definitely looked better.” You replied, making him roll his eyes.

“You’re not even remotely nice enough to say that to me right now.”

“Well I was never the nice one. You were.” You told him. Peeta’s expression changed when he heard this but his guard was still up. He looked away from you to look at the restraints on his wrists.

“I was beaten everyday for weeks.” He said without looking up.

“Peeta.” You whispered and took another step towards him. You reached a hand out again and his head snapped up to glare at you.

“I was shocked, whipped, starved, and isolated. Every single day. All because of you. So I’m sorry if I’m not nice anymore.” He said as his voice shook with rage.

Your mouth opened to say something but you found yourself speechless. You’d seen Peeta so many things, but you’d never seen him show hatred. You didn’t know the boy with the bread was capable of that feeling. You wiped a tear that had fallen before composing yourself.

“I never wanted to leave you behind. You need to know that. I had no idea there was a bigger plan at play. I wanted to go back for you. I swear I did. That was the only thing I wanted. But nothing was up to me.” You finally gave him the explanation you’d been practicing in your head for the moment you got to see him again.

“Me either.” Peeta said with a dry laugh. You nodded your head to show you understand his situation was much worse than yours.

“Because if it were, I would’ve let you get tortured by Snow. Not me.” Peeta continued as he raised his voice at you. You winced at the shouting and took a step back.

“I offered to take your place. Snow didn’t accept.” You explained. “I’m so sorry, Peeta. I’m sorry we didn’t get to you sooner. I’m sorry I had to leave you behind.”

“I’m sorry too.” Peeta said sincerely, peaking your interest.

“I’m sorry I threw you bread that day in the rain. I would’ve saved myself a lot of suffering if I just gave that bread to the pigs.” He shouted at you again and ruined one of your fondest memories of him, the very memory that got you through so much of the first games.

“It was the first my family had eaten in days.” You said with a sad smile, hoping Peeta would hear the kindness he had shown you and remember who he really was.

“I burnt it on purpose so I could give it to you. You know my mother beat me for burning it? Why would I take a beating like that for you?” Peeta asked genuinely. You could tell the Peeta you knew was long gone and the Peeta in front of you had no memory of ever loving you.

“Because you are kind. And generous. And people say you love me.” You answered him while hot tears spilled over your face.

“Do people say you love me?”

“I do. I do love you.” You insisted as you stepped forward again. Peter withdrew his entire body from you as much as he could with his restraints. You saw the way he recoiled and stood still.

“People say that’s why Snow tortured you. To hurt me.” You said once you composed yourself.

“Snow said everything out of your mouth is a lie.” Peeta snapped.

“I could say the same for him.” You said back, starting to grow angry. Not necessarily with Peeta, but at whoever came up with the sick joke of Peeta coming back to you but with an entirely new personality that hated you.

“They told me they would only let you in if they restrained me.” Peeta told you as he looked back down at his restraints.

“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t want them to. But they wouldn’t let me come see you without it.”

“You know what I can’t wait to do once these restraints are off?” Peeta asked with a slight smile on his face. You grew hopeful that the Peeta you knew was coming back and stood up straighter.

“What?” You asked with the same soft smile.

“Kill you for the mutt that you are.” He said with an eerie grin. You gasped a little and took a step back from him.

“You don’t mean that. This isn’t you.” You shook your head as more tears fell down your face.

“This is me. If you don’t think I’m good enough anymore to be your little romance puppet, then get the HELL OUT OF HERE AND NEVER COME BACK.” Peeta’s voice went from a whisper to a scream as he raged at you. You blinked in surprise at his screaming before grabbing the door handle.

“I won’t.” You tearfully told him, then ran out of the room.

The next day, you were sent out to The Capital with your troop for the planned invasion. You were glad to have something to take your mind off of the Peeta situation, even if that something was active combat. Your distraction didn’t last long as you watched a large black truck pull up to where your troop was.

Several guards got off the truck, followed by Peeta. He was handcuffed and looking at the ground as he mumbled something to himself over and over. When he got closer, you realized he was reminding himself of who he was.

“My name is Peeta Mellark. My home is District 12.” He mumbled over and over to himself. It reminded you of when you did the same thing after you escaped the Quarter Quell and you felt a pinch of sympathy for him.

“Whats he doing here?” You asked Boggs.

“Coin wants him in the propos to show the districts that he’s free and on our side.” He explained.

“Do you honestly think he’s in any position to be thrown into active combat? He needs to be resting so he can recover.” You raised your voice, feeling misplaced anger over Peeta being thrown right back into a traumatic situation after what he had just gone through.

“I didn’t make the orders. If you have an issue, take it up with Coin.” Boggs shrugged. You gave him a nod and an apologetic smile to show him you understood he wasn’t the right person to get angry at. You hadn’t even noticed that Peeta had come closer while you’d been talking to Boggs.

“Hello.” Peeta said in a quiet voice. You turned around to see who he was talking to and when you saw no one, you looked at him in surprise.

“Me? Oh. Hi.” You replied stiffly and took a step back from him. Peeta noticed this and looked upset over it.

“How’s your throat?” He asked, taking you by surprise once again.

“Still a little swollen. But I’ll survive.” You replied curtly. Peeta looked at you for a minute and you could’ve sworn he had guilt behind his eyes. He looked down at the cuffs on his wrists and shut his eyes as if trying to block out a memory that dared to approach.

“When you first came to see me, I had just gotten back from the Capital.” He began in a weak voice. “The very last thing I had seen before I was rescued was images of you while a whole room of people told me you were life threatening. I thought my life was in danger when I saw you.”

“Do you still think that?” You asked him.

“No.” He said. Then followed up with, “Not all the time.”

“But sometimes?” You frowned in disappointment.

“Sometimes. They really got me, Y/n. The Capital really messed with my brain.” Peeta told you and you could hear the pain in his voice. You instinctively went to give him a hug, something you always used to do to comfort each other, then stepped back when you remembered that he probably wouldn’t want that from you anymore. Peeta realized what you had almost done and looked slightly disappointed that it hadn’t happened.

“I know.” You said after a beat of silence. You looked him in the eyes and nodded to show him you understood who he was being wasn’t really him. Peeta looked almost grateful and nodded his head as well. You gave him a short smile before walking away, feeling overwhelmed from how much you wanted the person he used to be.

It was too hard to be around Peeta now that he was different and no longer loved you, so you kept your distance from him. That didn’t stop you from looking over your shoulder every so often to check on him while your troop ventured into the Capital. You looked over at Peeta at one point while Boggs was checking the area for pods and saw that he was crouched on the ground and banging his head against his gun to make it hit the wall. His eyes were tightly shut and he was rocking back and forth as his face twisted in pain. You knew he must be having some sort of episode and you instinctively started walking towards him. You stopped when you remembered that he would probably just hurt you again so you stood there and watched him rock back and forth. After just a few more seconds, you couldn’t take it anymore and ran to kneel down beside him.

“Peeta?” You asked and pushed his gun down so he could stop hitting his head against. Peeta just kept hitting his head against the wall, so you pulled his head towards you and held his face.

“Peeta? What’s going on?” You asked him.

“I’m a mutt, I’m a mutt, I’m a mutt.” He whispered shakily under his breath.

“Shhh. No you’re not.” You said softly and tried to pull him into a hug. Peeta roughly pushed you off of him, making you fall back.

“Stay away from me.” He shouted at you. You stared at him in stunned silence and his face slowly melted from anger to sadness.

“Please. I’ll just hurt you again.” He said quietly. You nodded your head and got up to go back to where you were originally standing. You looked over at Peeta and saw that he was just sitting now with his head in his hands. You had no time to react to it before a tidal wave of hot oil came rushing towards you and your troop. You all collectively ran from it and went to seek shelter in a nearby building. As you were climbing the steps, you felt yourself being pulled backward and thrown onto the ground. You barely had time to react before Peeta stood over you and raised his gun as if to bash your head in. He was quickly pulled off of you by another troop member, but Peeta just overpowered him and threw him into the oil. You knew you had to keep running, so you got up and ran into the building. Finnick restrained Peeta once everyone was inside and you moved to the building across the street once the oil went down. You all watched from the window as Peacekeepers blew up the building you had been inside just moments ago. A mandatory viewing from The Capital popped up on the TV and everyone turned their attention to that. Cesar Flickerman announced that you, as well as you whole troop, had just been killing the the collapsed building as the footage rolled behind him.

You sat down and watched the footage from just a few moments ago of your troop running from the oil flood. And from a new perspective now, you watched Peter grab you by the waist and throw you to the ground. Even though you had just lived through it, you still gasped when you saw him attempt to bash your skull in with the butt of his gun. You gulped and looked over at Peeta, who was watching the screen with tears running down the haunted expression on his face.

“So now that they think we’re dead, what do we do?” Gale asked the room.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Peeta spoke, catching everyone by surprise.

“The next move is to kill me. I’m not in control. I just murdered a member of our squad.” Peeta said in a shaky voice.

“That wasn’t you.” You reminded him.

“It was me. I’m a danger to all of you while I’m alive. You should just kill me now and go on with the mission.” Peeta said in defeat. He was himself enough to know the extent of what he had done and somehow, that was more painful than when he was fully gone.

“If it gets to that point where we have to make that decision, I’ll pull the trigger myself.” Gale offered. Everyone seemed to nod in agreement, sparking your anger once again.

“No.” You said loudly, making everyone look at you.

“No one’s killing Peeta. We didn’t go through all that trouble to get him out of The Capital just to kill him.” You tried to sound strong but your voice shook at the mere thought of never seeing him again.

“But-“ Peeta began.

“No.” You cut him off. “You’ve survived too much to be killed by one of us. Since the beginning, it’s been about keeping you alive. That hasn’t changed for me. So no one’s killing you. I’m not losing you. Not again. Not for real.”

Silence filled the room, along with a palpable tension. You quickly dismissed yourself and went into the kitchen to stock up on food. When your troop started moving again an hour later, you moved in silence. Nobody spoke a word about your little outburst. Instead, you all went into the sewer system to avoid being seen by the Capital cameras. You walked for a few hours before settling down for the night.

“You’re the first watch.” Boggs told you moments after you sat down. You nodded and got up to go sit at the end of the tunnel, coincidentally next to where Peeta was sitting. You gave him a quick smile that he did not return. Throughout the night, your gaze wandered over to Peeta every so often, but he never noticed. He was too busy being lost in thought.

“Your favorite color is green, real or not real?” Peeta asked suddenly, speaking so softly you almost didn’t hear him. You perked up when you heard the correct detail about yourself and nodded your head.

“That’s real. You remember that?” You asked in disbelief.

“My memory is getting better. Some things are still fuzzy but I’m starting to be able to differentiate between what’s real and what The Capital made up.” Peeta admitted. You nodded in understanding and scooted closer to him.

“Do you remember anything else?”

“You used to wear your hair in two braids instead of one.” He recalled, making your lips curve into a small smile.

“Yeah. I did.”

“Why did you change it?”

“So my hair doesn’t get caught on my arrow when I pull it out of the sheath. See?” You explained as you pulled an arrow out of the sheath on your back. He watched curiously and then smiled a little.

“That’s smart.” He told you, making you smile as well.

“My dad taught me that. He said that’s how the women in his family wore it when they hunted.”

“Where is he now?” Peeta wondered, making your smile fall.

“He died a long time ago. In a coalmine back in 12.” You told him. Peeta’s face softened and he looked down at his lap.

“My parents are dead too.”

“Prim told me. I’m sorry.” You said and went to put your hand on top of his. You quickly withdrew it and Peeta’s expression somehow grew even sadder. You wondered how long it had been since the last time he’d been touched with something other than abuse. It must’ve been 8 weeks ago back in the Quarter Quell when you kissed him goodbye. Since then, he only knew pain.

“I don’t have anyone left. I don’t know what the point of keeping me alive is if I can’t keep control of myself. It’s not like there’s anyone waiting for me to come home.” Peeta said, drawing you out of his thoughts. You looked at him like he was crazy and sat up to look at him.

“I’m waiting.” You stated. “I’m waiting for you to come home.”

Peeta stared into your eyes for a while and even in the dark, you saw glimpses of the boy you nursed back to health in the first games. The cheeky, witty, and ever loving boy you’d grown to know was staring back at you for the first time in weeks. You wanted to lean in and kiss him, but you knew he would hate it.

“Your favorite color is Orange.” You blurted instead.

“It is?”

“Yes. Soft orange. Like the sunset.” You told him. Peeta smiled softly and looked at you with gratitude.

“Can you tell me anything else?” He asked in a soft voice.

“You’re a painter. And a baker. You always sleep with the windows open. You never take sugar in your tea. You always double knot your shoelaces.”

“Thank you.” He smiled as he looked into your eyes.

“You’re welcome.” You replied, getting choked up over speaking of the Peeta you once knew.

“I guess you know me pretty well, huh?”

“You learn a lot about a person when you’ve been through what we’ve been through together.”

“Haymitch told me they used Trackerjack venom on me in The Capital. You were bitten too once, real or not real?” Peeta asked you.

“Real. In the first games. After I dropped a nest on you and the careers.”

“I remember making sure you ran away before they did to you what they did to Glimmer. I had to fight Cato to keep him from going after you. I remember wanting to run and follow you, but I didn’t. My leg was too wounded.” Peeta recalled as he stared off into the distance as if he could see it.

“I remember when I found you by the lake. You had camouflaged yourself to look like the ground. You scared me half to death when you grabbed my ankle.” You thought about for the first time in a while.

“I remember that too.” Peeta looked at you and smiled a little.

“I thought I was about to be killed. But when I realized it was you, I had never felt such relief.” You continued as you stared into his eyes.

“That seems like so like ago.” He said wistfully.

“I know. Can you believe those were the simpler times?”

“Nothing is simple anymore. I’m scared it never will be again.” Peeta admitted and looked down at his cuffed hands.

“Me too.” You whispered without ever taking your eyes off him. He blinked slowly and you realized he must be exhausted.

“You should get some sleep.” You told him.

“I’m okay. I don’t need it.”

“We all need it. Just close your eyes. It’s my turn to keep watch anyway.”

“Okay. Just for a little while.” He reluctantly agreed. You watched Peeta shut his eyes and within minutes, he was out. You watched him sleep for a while because for the first time since he had been rescued, he looked peaceful. You felt a little creepy for staring so you eventually looked away and stared down the tunnel beside you.

You suddenly felt something on your shoulder coupled with the tickling sensation of Peeta’s hair on your skin. You looked down to see his head had fallen onto your shoulder in his sleep and he laid peacefully with his head buried in your neck. You gasped a little at the feeling of his skin on yours once again. There were so many times where you thought you’d never touch him again, so to feel his warmth once more brought a range of emotions. Your eyes filled with tears and you sucked in a sharp breath before resting your cheek on top of his head. Tears slipped down your face so you turned your head inwards to kiss the top of his head. You knew you’d never get the chance to do this when he was awake, so you savored every minute of it in case it was the last time. You listened to the sound of Peeta’s shallow breathing before picking up his hand and slipping your fingers between his. You felt a little selfish, but you needed the memory of holding his hand to replace the memory of his hands around your neck.

The peace and quiet didn’t last long and you were up and moving again at the sound of footsteps in the tunnel. You quickly dropped Peeta’s hand and woke up your team before taking off running through the sewers. You ended up having to fight off some mutts that definitely didn’t kill Finnick because who would possibly write something like that not me.

When you got to the surface again, you all ran for your lives as Peacemakers shot at you from all directions. To make matters worse, the ground was being torn up beneath you as you ran. You looked over your shoulder for just a second to see Peeta fall to his knees.

“No, no, no.” Peeta cried and started to hit himself in the head. He curled into a ball as he shouted something unintelligible about being a mutt.

“Peeta, come on. We have to keep going.” You urged as you tried to pull him up.

“I’m a mutt. Leave me behind. I’m a mutt!” He cried and continued to bang his head into the floor.

“Peeta, come on. Get up.” You commanded and tried with all your strength to pull him off the ground.

“I’m a mutt. I’m a mutt.” He whimpered as you got down on your knees beside him.

“Peeta.” You shouted, making him look up at you. Now that he was caught off guard, you pulled him into a kiss. You probably needed it more than he did, but it worked exactly how you’d hoped. When you pulled away, he was entirely himself again and looked at you with that familiar fondness in his eyes.

“Stay with me.” You breathed out. Peeta gulped and then nodded his head.

“Always.” He replied. You took a minute to feel joy over this before pulling him off the ground and running with his hand in yours.

Cressida lead everyone to a shop in town owned by Tigress, a stylist you recognized from the first games. She agreed to hide everyone in her underground cellar while the chaos outside calmed down. When everyone sat down to catch their breath, you stayed standing.

You looked around and noticed Peeta sitting by himself next to a pole. You went over and sat beside him before wordlessly taking the cuffs off of him.

“You should keep these clean or else they’ll get infected.” You told him as you dabbed them clean with a wipe.

“You should cuff me again. It’s still not safe with me.” Peeta said, sounding miserable. You didn’t want to cuff him again, but you knew in your heart that he was probably right. You picked his hand cuffs up and he held out his wrists. His face looked so miserable that you dropped them back into your lap.

“I’ll cuff you tomorrow.” You decided. “You shouldn’t have to sleep with them on.”

“Are you sure?” He asked you.

“Yes. I trust you.” You replied, making his eyes soften a little.

“Even after everything I’ve done?” He asked quietly.

“I know who you are. And who you’re not. When I see you do the bad things, it’s like I’m watching someone else. The Peeta I know…” You trailed off when you felt yourself getting emotional at the thought of the old Peeta. You had to look away from him or you knew you’d cry.

“The Peeta I love isn’t a bad guy. He’s safe and warm and kind. And I owe him my life. So yes, I trust you.” You answered as you stared at your filthy nails. You desperately wanted to see Peeta’s reaction to that, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look up.

“I’m trying really hard to trust you too.” Peeta said after a beat of silence.

“It’s okay. I can’t imagine the war in your head right now. Take your time. Just keep your hands off my throat if you can.” You finally looked up at him with a teasing smile.

“I’ll try.” He returned the smile and you saw a glimpse of the boy you used to know. Peeta looked down at his freed wrists and rubbed them a little.

“Do you not want to cuff me because you want to hold my hand in my sleep again?” He asked without looking at you. Your stomach dropped when you realized you were caught.

“You know about that? I thought you were asleep.”

“I was. But I woke up when I felt you.”

“And you let me hold it?” You asked in disbelief.

“It’s been a long time since someone touched me like that. I wasn’t gonna stop you.” He admitted.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that.”

“I know why.” Peeta said, making you look at him.

“If I die, you didn’t want the last memory of my hands to be painful.” He continued, somehow knowing your exact thought process.

“That’s exactly why.”

“I thought you said you didn’t know why.” Peeta cracked a smile.

“I was lying.” You admitted

“Snow was right about you. Everything out of your mouth is a lie.” Peeta said with a straight face. Your face fell and he immediately looked concerned.

“I’m kidding. That was a joke.” He assured you.

“Oh. Sorry.” You slowly cracked a smile when you realize Peeta had just made a joke. It reminded you of the time back in the first games when he jokingly said he’d take the bow.

“It’s okay.” He replied and an awkward silence fell between you. You wanted so desperately to keep taking to Peeta, especially now that he seemed more like himself, but you had nothing to say. He was already so fragile so you didn’t want to do or say anything that could set him off. As you raked your brain for happy things to talk about, Peeta broke the silence.

“You know, Haymitch told me you only agreed to be the Mockingjay if Coin agreed to make rescuing me and the others a top priority.” He said without looking at you.

“Yeah. I did.” You confessed. “I never wanted to be the face of this rebellion. I just wanted you home.”

“He also said he woke up to the sound of you screaming for me every night.” Peeta said as he looked into your eyes. You stared at him for a while as you remembered all the times you dreamt about him coming home only to wake up alone in your bed. You felt a tear roll down your face and quickly looked away so you could wipe it. Peeta kept his eyes on you as you did this and you could feel it.

“When you kissed me back there, it was the most lucid I’ve felt since I was captured. Everything was crystal clear to me for a second. Nothing The Capital had conditioned me to believe seemed real. Just for that second though. Now everything is fuzzy again.”

“I wish I would’ve kissed you longer.” You half joked as another tear rolled down your face. Peeta stared at you for a minute with a fondness in his eyes before leaning in. You kept perfectly still as Peeta connected his lips to yours. Even before he was high jacked, Peeta normally wasn’t the one to initiate kisses. He always left it up to you because he knew you had boundaries and he never wanted to push you past them. So to have him kiss you now, especially after what he had been through, made emotion swell up in your chest. You relaxed again this lips and kissed him back, feeling the same hunger for him you felt on the beach. When he pulled away all too soon, he stared into your eyes as if he was trying to figure something out.

“Sorry. I just wanted to see if things would be clear again.” He said in a sheepish voice.

“Were they?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes. Things became very clear.” Peeta said matter of factly. You allowed yourself to feel hope for the first time in who knows how long and eagerly waited for him to speak again.

“It’s gonna take a long for me to fully come back. If I even do make a full recovery, I don’t think I’ll ever be the same.” He said with a sadness in his tone but hope in his eyes.

“I’m prepared to love every version of you.” You said simply. Peeta blinked a few times then smiled a little.

“I thought your love was just an act? To win the games?” He asked genuinely.

“It started as that.” You admitted. “I definitely played it up in the first arena to survive. But there were moments, even in the first games, when it was completely and truly real for me. It wasn’t always an act. And I wish, more than anything, that I could go back in time and make sure you knew that. Before all of…this happened to you. I wish I told you what you meant to me. I wish you could’ve known how much I loved you.”

“Well we can’t go back in time. Not even The Capital has figured out how to do that.”

“I know.” You sighed in disappointment and looked away from him. Peeta watched your face carefully before putting his hand on top of yours.

“But I know now. And it made me happy to hear you say that. It made me feel liek myself for a minute. Is that enough for you?” He asked. The inflection in your voice was so true to the old Peeta that you could’ve be sworn he was cured. You looked into his eyes and then reached out and allowed yourself to touch his face after all the times you stopped yourself.

“Yes, Peeta.” You told him. “That’s enough.”

[yuanology]

Im back again👹, I’ve been thinking on fwb with suguru, and I believe that in some way Suguru would prefer fucking in the night, only the moon through the window as a source of light, yknow like i can’t get out of my head praising suguru, telling him how pretty he is but he can’t help it but feel not enough ,like not enough to be something more than a sexual partner

lowpropgeo my head is full of sad ideas 🐸(it’s a sad frog )

jesus fucking christ.

suguru lets out the prettiest noises when you're buried deep inside of him, thrusting into him lazily as if you intended to make love to him until the end of the world came and passed, leaving your skeletons still wrapped in each other's arms; a perfect mimicry of the lovers you were not.

he was shy about his noises. you knew that from the very beginning. he would cover his mouth with his hand, beg you to stuff his mouth full with your fingers. even so, you always taught him that there was nothing at all to be embarrassed about. you always caught his wrists, pinning them over his head, as you coaxed sound after sound out of his lips.

tonight was no different. the blinds were parted slightly, just enough for the moonlight to filter through. it was a pleasant reminder that just one wrong move was all that it would take to reveal everything unraveling here to the rest of the world.

you were always careful with him. this sight was just for you, after all—geto suguru in your sheets, his back arched and his lips parted, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull and his toes curling in his pleasure as you coaxed out pretty sound after pretty sound from his mouth. he was beautiful, always had been, and unlike most people, you had the privilege to tell him that straight to his face.

so you did.

"you're beautiful," you whispered. your voice was too soft, too loaded with such reverence and awe, but you had learned to stop catching yourself a long time ago. suguru was always the most beautiful when the compliments would filter through his ears, and the weight of your words would settle on his ribs.

true enough, suguru let out a sound that was akin to a sob. his nails dragged across the skin on your back, no doubt leaving red marks that wouldn't fade away for days. you only let out a low chuckle, the sound helplessly fond, as your mouth met the skin of his jaw.

"it's true," you continued. "you're beautiful, suguru. every inch of you." especially this way, bathed in the moonlight with his hair splayed all around him like a crown; a halo befitting a fallen angel

here, cradled in your existence, geto suguru was entirely yours—and what a thrill it was to hold him in your arms, to simply hold him as you fuck into him lazily without a care for the world. "so, so beautiful," you murmured.

he let out a ruined sound. "please," he choked out. it wasn't the first time he had begged you tonight, and you sincerely doubted this would be the last if you kept this up.

he was always so good to you, setting aside his pride and arrogance just so that you would hold him the way he deserved to be held—as if he was something precious, as if he was someone worthy. it was still nice, admittedly, to see suguru break and become a mindless being who just wanted more of your touch, your presence, your love.

"please what, gorgeous?" your lips skirted over his jaw.

his voice was strangled. "want more. not enough." he sounded fucked out, entirely braindead. you doubted he even noticed the way his hips were fucking against you, the motion steady enough that you could stop thrusting into him and he would barely notice.

"what's not enough, lovely?" you asked him. a customary question.

you expected the ordinary answers, the sound of his voice catching in his throat repeatedly before he managed to grit out his answer. please, you could already hear him say. please, this isn't enough. i want more. it was routine at this point, a predictable motion, a back and forth.

so you weren't expecting it when he choked out—

"you."

there were tears in his eyes. his nails were scratching down your back. his voice was ruined. this should all be the usual. this should be predictable.

except his answer was all the wrong ones.

oblivious to your internal struggle, suguru sobbed underneath you. his body writhed, clinging onto you tighter. "please, please, please," he babbled. "i want more. not enough. please, not enough."

not enough. not enough. not enough.

all thoughts of lingering quickly curdled into something sour in your stomach. you reared back, hips meeting his in one abrupt motion. a loud scream escaped suguru's throat, a sound that you would usually relish in but couldn't focus on now.

your motions were robotic as you fucked him, sharp and hard and fast the way suguru liked it when you ruined him. not enough, huh? fine. if suguru thought none of this was enough, then you would just please him the way he wanted to be pleased. you wouldn't linger any longer, wouldn't give him reprieve or a chance to be touched the way he deserved to be touched.

(and fuck, didn't that thought hurt? you thought you were both doing well; that something more was perhaps blooming. you must have thought wrong.)

suguru continued letting out slurred words under his breath, his pleas bleeding into the sound of his own choked moans. you disregarded it. instead, you fucked him as if you didn't care about him, fucked him as if he was just another warm body for you to get yourself off on.

suguru wailed, and you swallowed the heart beating in the back of your mouth.

not enough. not enough. not enough.

you leaned your forehead on his shoulder, feeling him shudder underneath you beautifully. you couldn't help the lump that formed in your throat, the gentle ache in your chest that you had learned to associate with geto suguru.

not enough.

it shouldn't be a surprise, really, that suguru woke up the next morning without you by his side for the first time in a long time. there was no letter, no message, none of your warmth lingering on the bed next to him. you were gone, just like that.

still, suguru thought as he clenched his fists. at least, if you were going to leave him, you shouldn't cook him breakfast and leave out coffee before you did.

[perrywrites]

Asking them to choke you (flirting stage, haven’t slept together yet)

SFW (for the most… part…? Kinda NSFW?? But not really…?? Well PG13+ still for sure)

Includes; Yuta, Gojo, Nanamin

Yuta: “Yuta~ I want you to choke me…” His eyebrows raise right into his hairline, almost melding into his hair, eyes large and almost horrified. The way he’s sputtering, his throat constricting on itself, sounds almost like his own body is now strangling him at the sheer absurdity of your statement. He thought he was at least starting to get desensitised to the absolutely wild things that left your mouth, but somehow you manage to be increasingly unhinged each passing day. Like Maki once called you… A gift that never stops giving, except she definitely meant that very sarcastically. Somehow, he’s more sure you’re going to end up killing him (instead of a curse) with your absurd statements and those adorable mischievously gleaming eyes. “I-I… I don’t think… I can… do that,” he finally says, and he means this, for various reasons of course. The obvious playful reason being that it sounds like some sort of intimate fetish you’re into that he’s not very sure how to engage with. The less obvious, less fun to state reason being that his crippling fear of being the slightest bit rough with you would end up hurting you (or worse - killing you) and then he’d never be able to live with himself. So, choking you is absolutely out of the question. Then, you giggle, mumbling something about his reaction being adorable, and Yuta feels his heart constrict in his chest as the tips of his ears burn up. God, the things you do to his heart. You’re going to kill him. You love teasing him too much, and he can’t help but let you, when you’re so adorable… He’ll let you tease him for the rest of your lives as long as he’s the only one you’re teasing like this.

Gojo: laughs out loud, deadass. Oh, you want him to choke you? Those furrowed eyebrows of yours as you glare at him, seemingly offended, are too cute - oh you definitely weren’t expecting him to react like this, were you? It’s not like he’s not surprised, you see, but as much as it’s surprising, it’s just as funny, honestly speaking. So don’t blame him for laughing, huh sweetheart? “Don’t ask me for something like that if you’re not completely sure, hm?” Reaching his hand out to you, he ruffles your hair, messing it up as best as he could in a simple gesture, a lighter laugh bubbling up at your adorable squawk. As you’re trying your best to fix the mess he’s so benevolently set upon your head, he leans his head down to be at eye-level, smirking casually, eyes just the slightest bit hooded as he decides to tease you. “Because I might end up giving you exactly what you asked for.” His voice is low, a melodic whisper, and he doesn’t miss the way you shiver, the way your eyes widen - every twitch of your body as your mouth clamps shut and you look all too much a mixture of excitement and nervousness. As they say, be careful what you ask for - and especially so with Gojo Satoru. Plant an idea like that in his head, and you might not be prepared for the way it blooms.

Nanamin: he pauses, document still in his hand, and then sighs deeply, already feeling a headache beginning to clamp down on his scalp. Are you going to make him grab a second cup of coffee so soon in the day? What is with you and your random requests at the most random times of the day? He can see your cheeky little grin, you know? He’s not the kind of simpleton you can mess with, but it seems his now disappointed and exasperated expression (as usual…) still inspires you to snicker. “If that’s a kink of yours, then you need to learn to bring it up when it’s appropriate. Otherwise I’d advise you to start befriending the HR.” Does jujutsu even have HR? He should bring it up with Gojo, although the mere thought of suggesting that to him of all people sounds like an unbearable headache. Well, whatever, that should suffice for a half-hearted threat. Except, it doesn’t, and now you’re pouting, and babbling something about it not necessarily having to be a ‘sexual’ venture and more of a trust thing - and his eyebrow raises as he realizes you sound half-serious about the gibberish you’re spouting. “It’s a joke, much like the ones you constantly like to make,” he says, half-amused, although it’s not as visible on his stoic expression as it is in the dry uptilt in his voice. Seeing you pouting and huffing again, grumbling about his dry sarcasm, he can’t resist the extra statement. “... And well, I’ll keep in mind you like being… choked. We can discuss your asphyxiation kink later.” Your boggled wide-eyed look is amusing enough to sustain him without coffee through the whole afternoon.

P.S, Nanamin’s no-coffee for the afternoon streak is broken ever so lovingly through an encounter with a 6-foot tall cum-haired gremlin, Gojo 🫶🫶🫶

[itoshi-s]

idk if it's your thing but im thinking about noncon or cnc with sae. maybe its something you both agree beforehand. he comes home and he's very rough and hard with you. just what im thinking about today 😌

AAAAAAAAaaaAAa NONnIe pls !!! PLEASE of course this is my thing 😭😭😭😭😃 in fact i might just cream my pants as we speak abt it !

this made me so feral u do not have ANY idea how much i want this man to use me all up . he's fucked up in this head of his ,, i just know it and u all will too after this :')

nsfw / 17+ only / minors dni !

cw: noncon/cnc (u talk it thru before but there's several mentions of it feeling forced), fem reader, heavy choking, face slapping, degradation, mentions of cervix fucking and bleeding, a lil bit of dacryphilia

sae, who seems like he’s always in control of everything, but it’s just a delusion that he keeps up as a defense mechanism - something to pull his thoughts away from the many issues that trouble him. sae, who knows just yet another way to let his mind run empty, until the white noise dies down.

you’ve discussed it earlier, obviously, although it did take you a glass or two of wine to admit it - that you really, really wanted to give it a try. him, taking you against your will and despite your cries and begging, handling you however he likes, for as long as he pleases.

you two never really even needed any kind of safe-word before - a simple stop was sufficient enough - but sae was just logical enough to make you think of one, to keep the boundary firm.

that way, he's seemingly not phased at all as he shoves your head in the plush pillows, cutting your airflow with the deathgrip he has on the back of your neck, to silence your cries.

"sae- please, please please," the words come between hiccups, muffled and pathetic between his hard thrusts. "pl- ah- please, d-don' want it."

you say it as if it'd make him stop - as if he cared.

but he doesn't, or at least not the way you wished he would. in fact, hearing the way you sob and how every movement of his hips cuts your breath away gives him the drive to go even harder - rough, until your body slumps in defeat, becomes pliant in his grip.

heat bites at his cheeks, flushed and hued bright pink - just like always when he's this aroused - as he groans, deep in his chest, and lands a hard smack on the fat of your ass cheek. it stings, the lewd sound bouncing off the bedroom walls, and is followed by your wailing into the expensive feathers of your pillows. it hurts - all over the reddened flesh, against your cervix that sae just seems to bully his cock right on with each thrust, and in your chest, as his fingers flex around your neck tighter and make it hard to inhale.

with a shaky breathe, sae gives a slight shove to your head, using your body as leverage to fix his position behind you and push his hips even further against your ass. "stop fuckin' squirming." you'd nod quickly, the demanding tone making you tremble in fear, but he holds you so tight, your head just won't move. "dumb bitch wants to order me around? 's that it?" the mockery forces another wash of tears to soak into the silk sheets - a sob strangled somewhere in your throat, as white starts to seep into your vision from asphyxia.

he pulls his hips just a few inches back, only to push right back inside, until he physically feels it just won't go further, until the blunt head of his cock kisses right at your bruised cervix - until you start crying, proper and loud.

his cock twitches against your walls at the sound, and with a short exhale, he picks up the pace of his thrusts again.

it usually begins just like this, the same way each and every time. a routine, if you will. there's a training bag being dumped right by the front door, a soft thud as he kicks his shoes off, and the harsh echo of keys hitting the glass bowl.

sometimes, the only thing he wishes for on days like this, when there's a turmoil in both his chest and head, eating away at him, is to see your head peek out from your bedroom and feel your arms wrap around him moments after.

you want to talk about it? - you'd ask, and he turns to mush in your embrace.

but then again, there's times when it goes south - and it takes one look at his face as you walk to the front door to make you back away. you know how sae is and how he's not one to tiptoe around anyone else. he's sharp, bitter, and can bring someone to either tears or anxiety with barely a few muttered words.

but he's never like this with you - an exception that makes your hurt flutter.

or, more likely, he wasn't, until you shyly admitted that you just might want him to try and be.

it feels notably real, brings the thrill and puts your mind into fight or flight when you really don't want it. when your day was just as exhausting as his - if not even worse - and the last thing you can think about is his hands on you, touching and bringing pleasure. at the very back of your head, as he manhandles you into any position he wants with no regards to your cries and pleas, there's a thought that in fact, maybe you should be scared. that just maybe, you actually are.

but the heavy, rapid beat of your heart against your ribcage and the heat that pools in the pit of your stomach tells you otherwise - reminds you through the haze in your mind that this is what you want.

"s-sae- sae,"

it's like a broken record, brain turned into mush and tongue thick in your mouth as you babble.

"stop, stop, please, sae please i can't- can't take this."

your knees buckle underneath your weight, wobbly and weak, muscles cramped and tingling from exhaustion, but it spurs him on. that, and the feeling of your pussy throbbing so sweetly around him, squeezing him tight, as he feels the clear nectar trickle down the inside of your thighs, staining his own with filth.

"then tell her to stop fucking creaming on me." it comes out as a breathy laugh as he pulls out abruptly, letting go of your neck and making you wheeze. "third time. you've came all over me, cryin' and whoring yourself out, three times already, and you tell me you don't want this."

the spinning of your vision doesn't let go not even one bit as sae already grabs you by the ankles, swiftly pulling you towards him, flipping you onto your back with ease.

you push at his forearms, sputtering for your breath still and sniffling, pathetic and desperate. he knits his brows together, gives a look that speaks so much disdain that it brings you to look away. he doesn't have any of it, a hand helping him ease his cock back inside of your poor and twitching cunt before it wraps back around your throat - firm and snug, knuckles flashing white at the grip.

you gasp, hands grabbing at his wrist as blood rushes to your face, but then there's a stinging sensation that forces your head to the side - a loud slap and white hot burn on your cheek, where sae's hand has just hit.

"look at me," he demands, and there's a spark of desperation in the heavy and hoarse tone of his voice. he's close - again, having filled you up to the very brim once already - but his mind's so clouded and hazy, all mashed into one, with fucking you into tears as his only objective, he feels like he could go for hours.

well, he already is.

the same hand that delivered the slap grabs on your jaw, thumb digging into the soft flesh of your cheek and forcing your mouth open as finally, you look back up at him. there's tears clinging to your lashline, no thought between those pretty doe eyes, as your nimble fingers tighten around his wrist.

soft little breaths come out ragged and high pitches, squeaky, almost, as you whimper.

"please," the sound makes sae fight back a smirk as your eyes roll back just in time with his thrusts resuming. "pl- please-n'more," it's breathy as you moan, eyes almost crossing from the force of his hips slamming on yours.

he's fucked you so dumb, just the way he wanted to - just the way you look the prettiest, tears clinging to your cheeks, hair stuck to dampened skin, tongue lolling out to catch your breath.

"shut this whore mouth of yours and take it." it's firm, but you can hear his breath hitch deep in his throat, fighting back a groan that'd only sound needier than he intended it to. you go to squeeze your eyes shut, back arching and hips scurrying away as he slams right against your cervix, so deep you're surprised it didn't make you bleed yet - but before you can, there's another slap to your face, firm and heavy, and it brings you back afloat.

that, and the sight of teal eyes staring right back at you, needy and growing softer with every move of his hips as he nears his high again.

"told you not to fucking look away," it's almost a wheeze as he speaks, both hands resting around your throat now, using the hold as support as he maneuvers you to meet his thrusts. "c'mon. make m' cum, i know you can."

your vision nearly tunnels and there's specks of white creeping in, but even as your lids grown heavy, you can still see the desperation on sae's pretty features - teeth sinking into his bottom lip, brows furrowed, and turquoise eyes boring into your face - observant.

he sees you're almost at your limit - but you're a pleaser.

you nod weakly, one hand slipping from his wrist to grab at his bicep instead - dragging him closer, until he has to fix his grip on you to keep himself up.

his eyes look for yours, struggling to focus as he feels the familiar heat pool in his abdomen, muscles tensing and cock twitching inside of you - but he watches your face as you glance up at him through tears. searches for further permission, makes sure you're okay, even if you're still crying softly for him to stop, it hurts, sae please stop.

he reads you so good, it makes his chest swell.

you do not miss the glint of adoration that seeps through the teal irises, or how he moans under his breath at your fucked out expression as his thrusts grow sloppier.

and even if it hurts, makes you ache all over and your chest burn from lack of oxygen - he makes it feel like you deserve it.

even if you don't want it, he makes sure that in the end, you do.

reblogs are greatly appreciated ! :)

© itoshi-s. do not plagiarize, repost as your own or mention on other sm platforms.

[darlingofvalyria]

As lovers, you and Aegon were the best. As exes, you and him might be the actual worst. But he can't help himself, and you're powerless to your own desires. A Halloween Party, more than hard liquor, and glances that attempts to stifle stares of want— everything comes to a catalyst.

╰┈➤ PROMPTS ❝ INTOXICATED, DOM/SUB DYNAMICS ❞

[ +18 MDNI ] [ 2,359 ] [ masterlist ] | Modern!AU Aegon Targaryen II x F!Reader

contains— smut, angsty - exes to lovers, frat parties, college au!, possessive, cheating (not you or aeg), intoxication - messy sex for the messy exes, sorta toxic if you squint - petnames: sweet angel, sweet girl, sweetheart - mention of drug usage, slight hint addiction - nsfw: fingering, overstimulation, marking, dubcon + enthusiastic agreement, degradation, praise kink, dom!aeg— dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink if you squint, creampie - no betas.

a/n— hopefully this works for the request! it's a little... sadder and smuttier, but hey! ahahah! this is why i don't do daily kinktober. as an overwriter, it's just not possible to be quick jsdhjsh. comment, reblog & like at will, mi luvs, mwa!

It starts with, "Don't look, it's your ex."

And you pause. You freeze. You physically feel the adrenaline course through each and which way vein in your system, finding the end of your epidermis and hairline. It's a lot and you still have yet to land your eyes on him. The punch you've been offered not long ago that's slowly been condensing between your fingers register in your brain as cold, a drink, alcoholic— that you toss your head back and chug.

You sputter and choke afterward, your friend slamming her hand on your back in sympathy. "F-fuck. That's gross."

"Dude," she nervously giggles. "I don't think you were supposed to throat shot that."

"It tastes chemical, like chugging a nuclear reactor. I don't recommend it either." You exchange each hand to wipe the wetness on your skirt and holding your glass, trying to settle your nerves. "Where is he?"

"Got waylaid by two frat brothers, Dumb and Dumber, I think... think he's chatting up— yep, Frat President, with... an Olsen Twin on his lap. Fuck. I'm sorry, bestie."

You try to laugh but it comes out strangled. Because of course. Aegon is a pretty comet who streaks by, just as pretty and just as infrequent, coming to pass like a godly miracle and people just devours him.

Because he's Aegon, always the shiniest star, the bestest friend, somehow everyone's first something. First kiss, first messy hookup, first 'and he did this thing with his tongue, oh my gods, I saw five stars and the moon!', etcetera.

You aren't his first love and you sure as shit aren't going to be his first heartbreak. You wonder how many heartbreaks it'll be tonight; there's a running tally of three heartbreaks within one party, a fantastical rumour, a proud, mysogynistic chidding between male friends— before you got together with him, before your sphere ever clashed with Aegon Targaryen when he too was just a comet to you, a moon, an asteroid— always on orbit but always outside, unknown to the taste of his lips when he giggles between kisses, nor the pretty sighs when your fingers find the bulge in his pants.

Fuck. You're getting teary and you're in your first Halloween party since breaking up with Aegon. You got dressed up and had gotten your makeup done by your more creative friend.

You need to stop wasting emotions and cruelly painful thoughts for the star haired boy.

"Fuck it. Where's the hard drugs?"

Your friend snorts. "I'm not letting you do hard drugs. I am going to do very nice grass with you from very nice people on the sofa already hallucinating."

"Fine. But we're doing shots."

Aegon didn't see you the first time he arrived, but he will always, always find you in a crowd.

It's your laughter that triggers it this time, a sound embedded in his bones that he turns like a dog at the sound, as if finding his master. And then you're there, loose and happy, his heart stuttering at the pure joy and fun in your face, in your body, as you swayed slightly the beat, holding a freshly emptied shot glass.

He swallows. Fuck. You're still so pretty.

Your makeup is done sharper, your lips glossy and bright— a cherry red. His mouth watering when you pout dramatically at your friend, the pulsing lights caressing every dip and bow, every curve and edge of you. Your hair is loose, framing your face with a fake, paper halo over your head that sparkles in glitter, matching the body glitter across your shoulders and collarbones, even the peeks of your thighs under the white, silk dress that, with a jump in his throat, has his cock standing at attention.

He knows that dress.

He remembers the ghostly echoes of the lace detailing atop your chest, how it feels under his palms when he skates his hand over to squeeze your tits, the feel of the silk against his stomach when you lean over his body as your pussy flutters, clenching, while you roll and grind against him, trying to find pleasure—

"Fucking hell," he downs the punchy, mysterious liquid that's just straight vodka with rum, soda and strawberry syrup (absolutely disgusting but good enough for college students on a Friday), because he's fucking hard, and you're just there, oblivious, dancing, looking gorgeous, and his heart is aching. You're everything he's ever want, desired and should have kept better care for— fuck all the arguments, all the fights, all the stupid little reasons that he can't remember anymore why you two broke up —

And his stare is heated, penetrative, because the next thing he knows you're looking back at him. A thread of swallowing gaze, of empty thought but the baseborn sound of a Halloween party and two people who can't look away. Their past is twisted between them, their future uncertain, but their present is here and the want is certain.

The shared heat is gone when a hand is on his shoulder and he is forcibly turned. Qoren Martell shakes his head, lips turned down.

"No, dude. That's a bad idea."

And Aegon smirks because that's what's expected of him. His fingers tingle as he clench and unclench them. He can't be seen mooning over an ex.

"Not if she wants it."

It's a douchebag reply, an Aegon Second of His Name reply, but Qoren knows him better than that, even Jason who's not even looking at him, staring at Solana who was grinding against some frat bro from Beta Theta while staring directly at him.

Aegon snorts when Qoren smacks Jason's head.

"So that's why you didn't bring Johanna, you fucker." Aegon takes another beer, itching for the paraphernalia hot in his pocket. You've turned away and the itch is back, low but steady.

Jason shrugs. "I don't know what you mean."

"I am not babysitting both of you, motherfucks," Qoren mutters. "You're both responsible of your mistakes tonight I'm meeting Somi tomorrow and neither of you messy fuckers are going to ruin that for me, alright?" With that, he slaps a hand on both of their backs, making Jason curse as his beer spills.

When Aegon watches Qoren leave, he turns back to you and see you're already staring, irises too wide, full lips slightly open, and the thrum of heat, nice and striking, runs down his body.

He's going to fuck you. Or you're going to fuck him. It's set in stone, written in fate's ink. When you move away, his stare hooked on you, he smirks the moment you turn back to see if he's still watching, starving, and cocking your head as if asking,

Not going to follow?

But of course he does, it's you and him.

It doesn't start with a kiss. It's a hungry stare meeting in a bathroom mirror spotted by dry water, and he knows what you need, taking your hair in his hand as he stands beside you, tugging you toward him as a gasp leaves your lips, your hands winding to his hips, anchoring yourself.

"How much have you had?" he asks, moving his hand to your neck, stroking the edge of your jaw, watching your wet lashes and licking lips. "Come on, sweet angel." His other hand moves to the edge of your white silk, running his nails across your thighs.

"Does it matter? I want you." A breathy whimper leaves your lips as his mouth latches on your neck, tugging your hair to the side to start sucking bruises as his hand finds your panties and a groan rips out of him.

"You're this wet, sweet angel? All for me?"

"I was grinding on, hhh— Jon, don't flatter your—" You yelp, a sounding slap on your wet cunt and your wetness clings to his hand. You squirm in his hold, but he tightens, cupping your centre with his thick hand.

"This is my pussy," he hums sweetly, cheekily, but you know better. Aegon got sweeter when he was jealous. He smiled brighter when he got angry. He goaded when he hears warning in someone's voice. Daring them. Daring you. "How fucking dare you let someone— Snow, that creepy, depressed asshole, really, sweetheart? — my pussy?"

A flash of heat in your eyes meets his mullish blue gaze. Heat and hurt. "We've broken up, Aeg. You don't get to own me."

His heart thrums, head swimming— but not much as yours. You don't do drugs as hard as him, and you've been hitting something tonight. Your irises are wider, blacker even when you're turned on. You kept wetting your lips even as slick already covers your gloss. With a hum, he thrusts two of his fingers inside without preamble and you keen, arching against him as he kept a steady, fast pace, using the meat of his palm every few chuckles to rub your clit until your leg shakes.

"F-fuck, fuck, Aeg—" Your hands hold onto him for dear life as you feel your orgasm tide but he doesn't let up, continues his humming with his fingers, his mouth sucking your neck until you feel slobbered through the haze, until it starts to hurt with your overstimulation, forming bruises continually sucked on— and you cum again, too fast and too painful the second time. Pushed rather than pulled into the peak and he coos as he slows once you start crying out, tears in your eyes, mouth agape, patting your pussy and even you can hear the squelch.

His last pat is more of a slap, making you jolt and wail.

He smiles as he meets your watery gaze in the mirror, leaning back against the tiled wall to pull your skirt up, bracing you against his knee so you can see your wet and abused fluffy folds.

"What'd I tell you, darling? This is mine. Even she recognises me when you couldn't. For being an angel, you sure do got a mean streak."

You sniffle, nodding along in your hazy mind. "S-sorry. I'm sorry, Aeg."

"Aw, it's okay, only hurt my heart a little." He gives you a sweet peck on the cheek, fingers running down the wet path of freshly forming bruises on your neck. "I've missed you s'all."

"Me too. I-I've missed you too, baby," you say, eyes burning as you blink at the sincerity, smile turning a little softer, more real. "Wanna feel you."

"You already did, sweets, you did well too. How many special grass have you had?"

"Just okay." You twist in his hold, his knee straightening as you turn to him with your hands on his chest, looking up, pouting. "But I want you."

His cock throbs and you feel it against your thigh, but his face remains neutral, tinged with amusement as if he doesn't want to hoist you and fuck you into oblivion.

"It seems such the angel has forgotten her manners." He presses his thumb against your lip until he pushes it deeper, pressing it against your tongue before letting you suck on it, lashes fluttering.

"That's not what we say when want something. Use your words properly, baby," he mock, heat sizzling inside you, cunt throbbing. Though pleasing him has always been how your dynamic works, enjoying the way your mind blanks, filled only with the desire to be his sweet girl, his good girl while he relishes in dominating you.

Physically manhandling you was one thing, puppeteering your wants to mould his was another.

Loss of control was a soft tissue in Aegon's armour. And though you had gotten close, he had never opened up that part of him.

It was one of the reasons you broke up.

Your intoxicated-addled mind comprehends that, to a level, this is bad, but b, he's close, distracting you with his presence, his thumb on your mouth a familiar action, and you never get just one orgasm from Aegon so it doesn't linger long. The thought vanishes like a salt-licked ghost from a too recent past before you're holding on his hand and you're smiling sweetly.

"I want you to feel good too, Aeg," you whisper. "I want your cock inside me."

And he smiles— won, lost, who knows anymore. "There she is."

The next events are truly hazy. All you can remember is that he's close, closer than he's been in months, in you and stuck to you, snapping his hips against yours while your legs are up and jelly, bunched up in his arms while you hold strong against the wall.

The world is mush of thought, tongue, and messy kisses that are more spit and moan between your familiar, favourite cock driving into you again and again. A steady, almost sweetly, rock of his hips driving into that spongy, hard part of you that makes your toes curl and the pleasure to overwhelm. There's sweat and there are tender presses of his lips on your face when you both calm down, almost too sweetly, too needy for the Aegon that you know.

But every time you're about to come down from that high, he's rocking into you again, squeezing your thighs, your tits, using the mess of your cum and his to rub against your clit, and you're gone again.

The pleasure, driven again and again, wipes your memory of the more tender words he murmurs against your skin.

"L-love you so much, baby, god, you don't know how much I've missed you."

"You cumming again? T-that's a good girl, so sweet f'me, fuck, so good."

You don't know how you got to the room the morning, but you're dry and clean and the morning is stale but not head pounding. And you wake up alone, no trace of Aegon at all.

If it wasn't for the trail of bruised kisses against your throat, the throbbing between your legs, full of shared cum when you dip a finger in— you could've said he was nothing more than a ghost of the past, a pretty little dream.

Hooking up with your ex ends with a toughened heart, too empty to cry as you read a message from him.

BLOCK HIM: i'm sorry.

[mountttmase]

A Mountain To Climb: The Sequel

Chapter Eleven

Note - the penultimate chapter 😔 I can’t believe we’re here. Chapter 12 will be posted on Sunday but for now I hope you enjoy this one and I’d love to hear what you think 🩷

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 5.2k

Warnings - series will contain fluff, smut and angst

Masterlist

When Freya came to visit it was usually the highlight of your week. This time however you were nervous. She was observant and you were desperately trying to hide a secret.

You’d managed to fool Mason, him being busy with the end of the season nearing making things easier and he was currently at an away game so you could suffer on your own but it had always been the plan for her to come and stay and if you cancelled now she’d be suspicious.

‘Hello my love’ she smiled as you opened the door, pulling you into her body and you felt your eyes prick at the feel of her. Freya was home to you and you knew you couldn’t hold anything in for too long.

‘Hey Frey’ you whispered, trying to clear your eyes before she pulled back but the sound of your strangled voice caused her to pull away quickly and hold you at an arms length.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing’ you laughed, hoping the smile you sent her would be enough for her to move on but she only eyed you’re curiously.

‘Oh yeah like I’m gonna believe that’ she laughed, hooking her arm through yours before walking you into your living room and sitting you on the sofa. ‘Now spill’

‘There’s nothing to tell’ you smiled, trying to shrug her off but she wasn’t having any of it and the panic of having to tell her what was going on in your brain made the tears spill from your eyes again.

‘Oh baby, come here’ she breathed, pulling you into her side as she rubbed your arms soothingly. ‘You know you can’t keep things from me you silly goose, so you might as well come out with it’

You knew it was something you had to tell her, this thing was big and if you left it it would only get bigger and there’s no doubt she would find out eventually but the fear kept the words in your throat. This thing was the biggest secret you’d ever kept in but you were a ticking time bomb and you knew you needed to confess.

‘I’m late’ you suddenly choked, Freya’s arms stopping for a second as she stuttered before carrying on. Your words shocking here a bit before she pulled you a little closer to comfort you even more.

‘How late?’

‘Three weeks’

‘Does Mase know?’

‘No’ you sobbed, shaking your head as you tried to wipe your eyes.

‘Let’s not panic yeah? Is there anything else?’

‘I’m exhausted, like all the time. Everything aches and I feel sick constantly in the mornings like I’ve gone through a multi pack of mints this week trying to settle my tummy’ you told her and you could see the cogs turning in her head. She knew it didn’t sound good but she was trying to be the voice of reason and not freak you out but you were absolutely petrified.

‘Right well there so use sitting here panicking eh? Let’s go grab a test and find out’

‘But I’m scared, frey’

‘I know my love. But there’s no point putting it off is there?’ She asked and you shook your head. ‘Exactly. So we’ll go find out and we can deal with it from there’

‘Okay’ you sniffed, giving her one last squeeze before jumping in the car. The ride was pretty silent and you let her pull you around the store until found what you needed but you had no idea what you were meant to be looking at so you let her assess your options before giving her opinion.

‘Get the multi pack, I’ll take one with you’ she told you, causing you to eye her suspiciously but she just shrugged with smile. ‘It’s always good to check’

‘I can’t even imagine a mini you and woody. Like my brain won’t let me visualise it’

‘Let me tell you, mini woody is not-‘ she started but covered your ears with your hands and sing loudly, not wanting to hear the rest of what she had to say. You were feeling sick enough already and the thought of Woody naked didn’t help.

You couldn’t wait to take the tests I till you got home, anting to know as soon as possible what you were dealing with so you pulled Freya into loo’s where she dished the tests out for you to take before meeting by the sinks where she sent you an appreciative smile.

‘You fancy putting them back in the box so we can play pregnancy test roulette?’ She winked but you shook your head with a panicked expression.

‘No way, I’m not risking anything and I’m not taking another one’ you told her, packing your stuff up so you could go check them in the car and once you were settled down you took a deep breath in preparation to look. ‘What does yours say?’ You asked, gulping down a lump as you tried to distract yourself from the bomb in your hand.

‘Negative’ she smiled, showing you the test before you handed her yours.

‘Can you tell me, I cant look’ you asked before hiding your face in yours hands. It felt like the longest wait in the world as you shut your eyes and tried to keep your breathing normal. The next few words from Freya had the power to change the rest of you life and as your heart hammered away in your chest you weren’t sure you can handle what she was about to say.

‘It’s negative, babe’

The rush of relief you were expecting to feel never came. If anything you felt your heart sink just a little bit but you were quick to dismiss the feeling and take a deep breath out that you hadn’t realised you’d been holding.

Not pregnant.

You were okay.

‘Let me see’ you breathed, taking the test back from her and looking over it. There it was in black and white, not pregnant and even though your heart rate was slowly getting back to normal you felt your eyes prick at the sight.

‘You okay?’

‘Yeah, I’m glad I know now. I wonder why I’m late though?’

‘A woman’s body is a mystery’ she shrugged before looking back at you. ‘You sure you’re alright?’

‘I feel a little bit silly but I’m fine’ you laughed, hoping she’d buy it and even though you knew she could tell you were a bit upset she thankfully knew not to push. ‘Shall we head home? Mase’s game will be on soon’

Thankfully she didn’t ask any more questions and you put it to the back of your mind so you could focus on the game and you watched on with pride as he ran around like a maniac on the pitch. Seeing him on your tv only made you miss him even more and you couldn’t wait for him to get back home tomorrow so he could wrap you and make you feel better in the way only Mason could.

Freya left the next afternoon and you used your alone time to sit and think through your feelings so that you’d be fine for when Mason returned home the next morning.

You were freaked out that it might be positive, but now you knew it was negative why were you feeling so weird about it? You didn’t want a baby, not right now at least but the weird sensation settled in your stomach and you didn’t know how to feel. What would happen when you told Mason? Would he be disappointed? Or relieved? And what was worse? If he was disappointed then at least you knew you could try again but any type of relief would make you think that’s not what he saw for your future. Did he even see a future with you?

You were driving yourself crazy with all these thoughts so you did the only thing you knew how and went to sleep in hopes you feel better tomorrow when Mason got home.

You tried to busy yourself the next morning and make sure the house was spotless for when Mason got back but it was no use. Again finding yourself laid down staring up at the ceiling as you ever thought everything about the last few weeks.

Soon enough it was time for Mason to be home and as soon as you heard the door go you were up and rushing over to greet him. His wide smile and excited eyes settled you and you just prayed you could fool him into thinking you were fine and that the last few days hadn’t happed but one look at him and you knew you were gone.

‘Hello baby’ he smiled softly as he took you in, pulling you into his arms so he could hold you, your body melting as you took in his smell and you automatically felt at home ‘you alright?’ He asked, pulling back and eyeing your curiously. It was scary how quickly he knew something might be wrong even when you tried to hide it and the concern on his face made your bottom lip wobble. ‘Hey, what’s happened?’

You didn’t mean to as you were trying to hold it together but you burst into tears, your comfort person was all that you’d wanted for the last few days and now that he was finally here you needed to get your emotions out. You didn’t think you’d be this upset but the tears kept coming so he bundled you inside and into the living room so he could pull you into his lap.

‘I didn’t play that bad did I?’ He laughed, trying to ease the tension and even though you were sobbing your little heart out you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head in his neck to reassure him before sitting back so he could help calm you down and the gentle kisses along your forehead were working wonders. ‘It’s okay baby, just take your time’

‘Sorry’ you hiccuped, letting him wipe your eyes before leaving a delicate kiss on your nose.

‘No need to be sorry. Whatever it is you can tell me’

‘I know’

‘You’re not hurt or anything are you?’

‘No no I’m fine. Just something happened and I thought I was okay but maybe I’m not’ you laughed, rolling your eyes to try and play it off but he wasn’t having it.

‘You’re worrying me now, what’s happened?’ He asked, holding you by your jaw and you let you cheek rest in his hand as he gently stroked under your eyes.

‘I’ve not been feeling well for a little while. Nothing major just a bit sick and dizzy and some other things and I think I freaked myself out a little bit’

‘I thought you seemed a little off before I left but I just presumed it was your special lady time’ he joked, one hand moving so he could tickle your side to make you laugh and when you eventually smiled he smiled back twice a brightly before his face turned sympathetic. ‘Was it a bad one this month?’

‘If only’ you joked but you realised he didn’t understand from his confused expression so you gulped down a nervous lump before explaining further. ‘My period never came, Mase’

‘Oh well that’s alright then, one less to worry about’

‘No I don’t think you get it’ you laughed, thinking his puzzled face was the most adorable thing you’d ever seen and you weren’t sure if you had it in you to burst his bubble. ‘Normally it means something if it doesn’t come’

It took a few seconds but you saw it when the information clicked in his brain. His eyes going wide as his mouth dropped open but you were quick to break the news as not to make him think something would be happening.

‘I’m not, I just thought I might be’ you explained, your voice breaking at the end and you thought you saw his face drop slightly before the tears started flowing again. ‘I don’t know what I’m crying so much’ you laughed, hiding your face before he held you to him again.

‘Shhhh it’s okay’ he told you but your attempts at trying to calm down were futile. ‘It’s probably been a stressful few days huh? It’s no wonder your upset’ he whispered whilst rubbing his hands over your back gently. ‘You don’t have to tell me yet but when you’re ready to talk we can’

‘I love you’ you whispered into his neck, feeling him squeeze you a little bit tighter as he kissed your forehead gently. He was your rock and no matter how bad you felt you knew you were so blessed to have him.

‘I love you too’ he told you before a comfortable silence fell over you for a few moments. ‘I tell you what. Why don’t you go get into bed? I’ve got a few bits to sort out and I’ll come join you soon’

‘It’s 11am Mase’

‘I know but you’re tired baby, and I am to. We can have a nap or just cuddle for a bit yeah?’

‘Okay’ you agreed, letting him help you up before you went up to your room to get settled. You could hear him moving around downstairs but your eyes were heavy from your tears so you let them shut until you felt Mason slipping into bed besides you.

‘You alright?’ He whispered, kissing your cheeks and you nodded as you cuddled up to him. You weren’t sure if you were ready to talk but now he was in front of you you felt as if you owed him an explanation for everything.

‘I’m okay. Just feel like a lots gone on I should tell you about. If you’re ready that is’

‘I’m all ears’ he smiled and you sent him one back before spilling everything that had happened.

‘When Freya got here the other day she could see something was wrong and it kinda slipped out. The missing period, the sickness and dizziness. All of it. She came to the same conclusion I did so we took a test together but it was negative’

‘Why didn’t you tell me before?’

‘I didn’t want to disappoint you’ you laughed ‘We’ve not really spoken about any of that and I didn’t know what you’d think’

‘What? About kids and stuff?’

‘Yeah’ you breathed, you bottom lip wobbling again but you held your emotions in so he could say his piece.

‘You want me to be honest?’

‘I always want you to be honest’ you winked and he laughed whilst nodding his head.

‘All I’ve ever wanted is a family of my own. Yes it may be early days but if it’s something you wanted then I’d find a way for us to work it out. You don’t ever have to worry about telling me anything like that. I love you and I want us to have all of that and more’

‘I know, I feel silly about it now but I was all hormonal and stressed’ you laughed. ‘I’ve never thought about kids and as awful as it sounds I was praying for it to be negative at first but when I finally saw it, I didn’t feel like I thought I would’

‘How did you feel?’

‘A little disappointed. Is that weird?’

‘I don’t think so’ he laughed ‘is that why you’re so upset?’

‘I think so. Maybe in the back of my mind I knew if it was positive then things would be fine and you’d be happy. Now I feel like I’ve disappointed you a bit’

‘You could never disappoint me, gorgeous’ he whispered, kissing your nose before leaving a gentle peck on your lips. ‘Of course I would of been happy if it happens, you’re the love of my life and I can’t wait for all of that stuff to happen for us but we can do it in our own time yeah?’

‘Yeah’ you agreed, smiling at his words as he always knew what to say but you could feel the tears welling in your eyes again.

‘Are you alright though, with all that stuff’ he laughed, hands tickling your sides to indicated he was talking about your womanly issues and you nodded with a laugh before he kissed you again.

‘I guess so? I mean still no movement on that front so who knows’

‘I wonder why? Could the test of been wrong?’

‘I’m not sure, I have a spare so we could always take another just to double check’ you mused and he nodded at you shyly.

‘If you think it will sell your mind a bit more then we can’

‘Wait here I’ll go take it’ you told him before scurrying off. When you came back Mason was sat up against the headboard and you settled yourself next to him with the test in your lap.

‘You know whatever it says on that test, we’ll be fine. We’ve got our whole lives ahead of us for mini Mounts and whatever else comes our way’

‘I know’ you laughed, eyes filling with tears again as you looked up at him but he was quick to brush them away. ‘I think I was a little unsure but I really like the sound of mini Mounts now’

‘Yeah?’ He smiled, eyes brighter than you’d ever seen them and you felt your heart thump at the little intimate moment you were having.

‘Yeah, someone to look after and keep me company when you’re away. And considering how cute you are I can only imagine how adorable a mini you would be’

‘I think they’d be cuter if they looked like you’ he laughed, kissing your nose. ‘You’re so perfect’

‘Well then I want them to have your resilience. You never gave up on me and I’ll always love you for that. You dragged me up our mountain kicking and screaming but I’ve never been happier’ you told him, smiling proudly at the way he blushed at your words before he pulled you in even closer.

‘Well I want them to have your brains cause let’s face it they won’t have any hope if they’ve got mine’

‘You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for’

‘Well I managed to pull you so I must be good at something’ he winked before leaning down to give you a soft kiss that made your heart flutter. ‘I want them to have your eyes cause they’re the prettiest ones I’ve ever seen’

‘And I want them to have your smile. Though I think I’d let them get away with too much if they did’ you laughed but it was true. Mason melted you so you could only imagine what a little one of him would do to you.

‘Shall we have a look then?’ He asked, nodding down to the test and you took in a nervous gulp. His fingers were on your chin in an instant though so he could pull your face towards his and the look of joy on his face settled you instantly. ‘Whatever that says on there, it changes nothing okay? You’re my girl and we’ll get through whatever it is together’

You didn’t have the strength to reply but you hoped he knew that you felt the same. His eyes were soon on the test and you followed them so you could pick it up, taking one last breath before flipping the test the right way around.

Not pregnant.

You knew it was coming, but it still didn’t sting any less and you bit your lip as you let out the breath you’d been holding.

‘It’s not our time yet, but we’ll get there’ Mason whispered into your hair, pulling you close as you melted into his body. ‘Now we know it’s something we want we’ve got more time to prepare’

‘I guess so’ you whispered and even though you didn’t want to you let him tilt you face up so he could look at you.

‘No tears okay? Breaks my heart seeing you cry and not being able to do anything about it’ he smiled and even though your heart was still breaking a little bit you sent him a smile back. ‘Lay down with me’

You did as he asked, wrapping yourself around him and settling your head into his neck so you could hold each other. The stress of the last few weeks freeing you now that it was out in the open and you left yourself fall asleep in the arms of the man you loved more than anything.

Things went back to normal in the coming days and soon enough the sadness lifted. In it’s place a sense of joy and excitement about the future and even though you both agreed there probably wouldn’t be any babies in your near future plans, you were high on the knowledge that one day you could have the family you never did with the man of your dreams.

‘I’ve been thinking about something you said the other day’ Mason said as you slid in to bed next to him a few days later and you looked up at him with raised brows. ‘About having someone to keep you company when I’m not here’

‘I’m not having Woody move in’ you told him, watching him roll his eyes with a smile.

‘I didn’t mean Woody. But don’t tell him that he might get offended’ he joked before pulling you into his chest. ‘What do you think about getting a dog?’

‘Really?’ You laughed, loving the idea instantly as you looked up at him with a wide smile that he matched.

‘Yeah, I’ve always wanted one and I feel like we’re pretty settled now so it’s the perfect time. I’ve been looking at shelters and there’s one not too far from here. Thought it would be nice to re home one’

‘Like doggie foster parents’

‘Exactly’ he laughed, kissing your nose as he was so happy at how excited you were. ‘I’ll give them a call tomorrow and see if we can sort an appointment out for my day off’ he told you and you could hold in the excited squeal. You had always wanted a dog but never been able to afford one or have the right space but Mason was right. You were settled and it would be great practice for whatever else came in the future.

Sunday came around quicker than you expected it to and soon enough you were sat in the car park of the dog shelter. You couldn’t help but bob you knee up and down in excitement as you were so full of adrenaline at the thought of getting to see some dogs and you could see Masons smile out of the corner of your eye.

‘Do you think we should set some ground rules?’ Mason asked, his hand settling in your knee so you would stop moving it and you sent him a shy smile.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well I have a feeling we’ll get in there and suddenly I’ll be agreeing to adopt 7 different dogs’ he laughed and you rolled your eyes in his direction. ‘So rule one, we’re getting one dog. That’s it’

‘Fine. But rule two is that I get the final say on what one we pick’

‘How is that fair?’

‘Cause I’ll be the one spending more time with it’

‘Okay well I’ll see about that one’ he laughed before turning to face you properly. ‘This is the game plan. We do a lap and see all of them so we can make a list of our favourites and then hang out with those ones a little more until we find the one we vibe with most’

‘Sounds good. Can we go in now?’ You asked impatiently and after he nodded quickly you were out of the door.

Once you spoken to a few of the staff you were lead through to some kennels and you started your hunt straight away. It was difficult though and each dog seemed to be cuter than the last but you were having the best time seeing them all and learning all about them. As cute as they were you still couldn’t pick one out to say that was the one you wanted and you started to loose a little hope.

You were nearing the end of your search when you came across Parker, a three year old German shepherd and you fell in love with him instantly. He was a big boy with big brown eyes like Mason but you could tell he was so soft and gentle and when he came straight up to the glass to say hello you felt yourself melt.

‘Masey, come here’ you called quietly and he came over quickly with a slight laugh to come and see what you were looking at.

‘Who’s this?’

‘His name is Parker, look at him I think I love him’

‘Parker? Like Peter Parker?’

‘Yes Mase’ you laughed and even though he was smiling you could tell he was about to rain on your parade.

‘Baby, he’s massive’

‘Bit of luck you bought us a massive house then, eh?’ You teased but you could see in Masons eyes he was slowly falling for Parker himself. ‘And don’t call him massive, you’ll give him a complex’

‘I’ll give you something in a minute’ he said under his breath but you chose to ignore him for now.

‘I want this one’

‘Well hold on. What does his fact sheet say?’

‘See Mase, he’s perfect for us. We can give him a large space and you can take him out on runs and stuff. Can we at least meet him properly?’

‘If you really want to we can but I get the feeling you’ll be sold as soon on him as we do’ he laughed but with a quick kiss to your nose he was off to reception to enquire about Parker. The receptionist told you that Parker had been at the shelter the longest out of all the dogs they had as he was quite large and you we’re starting to think the more you knew about him the more you felt like he was put there just for you.

You were lead to a separate room and someone bought Parker in shortly after. He seemed curious about you at first as he quietly came over to sniff the pair of you and soon enough he was sat in your lap with his head cradled in your arm as you scratched in between his ears.

‘I want this one, Mase’ you whispered, looking up to him as he was staring back down with just as much love in his eyes. ‘He’s so sweet’

‘Yeah, he’s pretty cute. And he loves you by the looks of things’

‘He’s got good taste’ you winked before Parker shuffled over to inspect Mason and once he was happy with him he cuddled into Masons lap and you almost lost it. ‘Oh look, Mase. He loves you too’

‘You sure you’re 100%? There’s no going back if we get him’

‘I’m 1000% sure. He’s perfect for us’

‘I’ll get it sorted then’ he smiled before you let a squeal of delight out.

‘Thank you, Mase’

‘Anything for my girl’ he whispered, leaning over to peck you gently but the pair of you couldn’t stop smiling.

Mason arranged everything with the shelter, the house having to be inspected before the final agreement was made and two weeks later when you were getting in from work you dashed upstairs to get ready. Mason would be home any minute with your new fury friend and you couldn’t wait to finally be a little family unit.

You heard Parker’s bark before anything else, causing you to rush to the door where Mason was half struggling to keep him from coming to you but as soon as you were near he calmed down and let you pet him.

‘Hi baby, welcome to your forever home’ you smiled, gently scratching over his face as he panted at you and it almost looked like he was trying to smile.

‘I’m gonna have to bulk up some more, Parker’s got some pull on him’ Mason laughed as Parker began to attack you with face licks until you were on the floor in a fit of giggles. ‘Wow, he’s trying to steal my woman already’

‘You’ll have to learn how to share’ you told him as he laid down next to you so Parker could lay over the both of you.

‘Are you happy?’

‘I’m always happy with you’ you smiled, leaning over to place a light kiss on his lips before Parker wanted to get in on the action.

‘Come on Parker, let’s give you a tour of your new house’ Mason exclaimed, stroking his head as you all got up and you watched on with so much love in your heart as your boys ran off into the living room.

Y/n

Liked by: masonmount, freyaaaaxo, declanrice and others

Y/n Happy homecoming Parker. We’ve had the best week with you so far and we’re so happy to have you here. We can’t wait to be your forever home 🩷

view 254 comments

masonmount parker loves his mummy just as much as I do 🩷 family 🏠🐾

Y/n my boys 🥺 what a trio we make 🩷 ily

declanrice bringing Raffa over for play time

benchilwell Oscar is coming to join

masonmount my dogs bigger than yours

freyaaaaxo auntie frey is coming over for cuddles 🥰

Y/n we can’t wait to see you 🙊

lukeshaw23 not Mase being kicked out of his own bed

Y/n he’s my protector

masonmount I only went down to get a cup of tea and he’d taken over. Had to bribe him with treats so I could come back

woody_ that’s a smart dog

petrehomeruk that smile 🥺 Parker looks like he’s having the time of his life and we’re so thankful you came to us 🩷

Y/n Thank you for all your help and for making this process so smooth. We love Parker with all our hearts 🩷

Tagged: @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @mm-vii @footiehoemcfc @masonmount07 @aundercover

[rockingrobin69]

Numbly

“I've been informed,” Harry Potter burst through the door with his habitual earth-quake of a shout, “that you don’t even like peppers!”

“Good morning,” Draco said dryly. Harry Potter glared.

With a sigh, Draco retreated to the kitchen to fetch the biscuits from the cupboard.

Around his third one, an insistent crumb hanging to his upper lip with all its tiny might: “Peppers, Malfoy!”

“Pardon?”

“Peppers!”

Draco blinked. “If you’ll be so kind as to tell me what on earth you’re on about.”

“Pansy said you hate them!”

He looked absolutely outraged. Draco sipped his long-cold tea.

“Do I?”

“She said you’re allergic!”

“Am I?”

“Stop—fucking with me.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dare.” But the corner of his lips was twitching. “I’m not allergic. I was simply a horribly dramatic child and she still naïve back when we were, what, six. Seven. I’m fine with peppers now.”

Harry Potter pouted, terribly chipmunk-ish, and even put the biscuit pack down. Down to business. “I cooked the—bloody hell, Malfoy, just, honestly. Why wouldn’t you say? That you hate peppers. I would’ve made something else. I would have happily—why?”

Utterly bemused, “I am. Honest, I mean. I don’t mind peppers anymore.”

“That’s a fucking lie and we both know it.”

Grasping at straws and failing, at least managing to stop the wobble of his stupid mouth, the automatic turning downwards. Went for his cup instead. The tea was ice-cold and flavourless and Draco poured it down his throat like it could cure him.

“Your hair’s a mess,” he then said, venomous, and turned his eyes back to the wall, where they refused to stay. It was always like this when Harry Potter barged into his flat. Even the water stains on the ceiling lost their usual allure and could not hold his attention. “If it’s raining, cast a bloody Impervious. Or take an umbrella.”

Harry Potter took a deep breath instead, sounding awfully, weirdly small. Some of the tension bled out of him in increments, his shoulders first, then the fists unclenching, then his belly un-hardening. His jaw was last. Draco was helplessly mesmerised by the transformation.

“You’re impossible,” but his voice finally not straining, his fingers not twitching towards the biscuits. No longer needing the obvious distraction. “Next time, if I make something you dislike, you have to tell me.”

“An order,” Draco huffed. “How sweet.”

Harry Potter could blush all the way to the roots of his hair. It was such a stunning, breath-stealing wonder to witness.

“It’s not a… fuck you.”

“Hmm.”

They sat there in strangely amicable silence. The oven still gave that choking, desperate cough every ten seconds, and it set a nice framework for their breathing, for the non-fidgeting. Harry Potter was always fidgety, but not when he sat in Draco’s kitchen like this.

“What’s your schedule? For today. Nev said you’re doing overtime again.” Leaning back, giving Draco that look all his friends liked to wear, the one on the border of a telling-off. It didn’t usually work on him, but Harry Potter had a slight edge to his disappointment that made Draco’s skin crawl.

“Not—exactly. Shouldn’t be so late. I’ll be home for bedtime, Mother, I promise.”

Even his mother didn’t glare like that. “Third time this week? I kind of want to strangle your boss.”

“Ha. I should inform you that violence is usually frowned upon in the workplace.”

He didn’t smile, but he came near it. Draco could tell, because the corners of his eyes were dancing. “Does it count if it's not my workplace?”

“Mm. Fair enough. Strangle away.”   

Now he was smiling. “When d’you start? Want a ride?”

And Draco was so grateful he didn’t launch yet another tirade about how Draco should quit that he said, “Why not.” (Only because he was distracted and rather tired, and not because sitting behind Harry Potter on his motorbike was in itself half-punishment, and not because clinging to his waist on tight turns at far-too-quick was—anything at all). On the downside, it made Harry Potter practically beam, and Draco still needed his eyes.

“Great! I mean. That’s good. That you won’t be late. Bad for your, er, record, and stuff, and you might not get a—bonus or something.”

They didn’t do bonuses at McMillan & McMillan, but that was neither here nor there. Draco nodded, pushed himself up on not so flimsy legs, collected his coat from where it was crumpled on the back of a chair.

“What about lunch?”

“Hmm?”

“You didn’t take. Any lunch.”

Why was he so obsessed with food? It was dangerously endearing. “I have an apple in my bag. Come now, you promised I won’t be late.”

“An—” Harry Potter shook his head, loosening even more curls out of his bun. They were rain-flat and miserable and still entirely too sweet. “I’ll buy you a sandwich at that poor excuse for a cafeteria you got there. And so help me god, Malfoy, you’ll eat it, or—”

“All right,” both hands up, “no need to shout. Your wish is my command, etcetera.”

He pouted so hard it was almost comical. But there was something still wounded there, so Draco added, “As long as there’s peppers, you know,” and then he was fuming again, bouncing on the balls of his feet and ready to deliver yet-another lecture. Draco watched him, amused, and forgot to lock the door behind him, and forgot his scarf.

Did remember his umbrella, which he Leviosa-ed to follow the Death Machine, stuck it against the silly jacket's back when they reached the office. It wasn’t raining anymore, thankfully allowing Draco to arrive not wet-dog for a change, and it made absolutely no difference.

Harry Potter took off his helmet to watch Draco enter the building. Didn’t follow him inside (wise, to prevent a murder), and so Draco completely forgot about the sandwich threat until it was roughly lunchtime. At which point, a drawer in his desk suddenly jumped open, and a far-too-fancy £12 bready tower appeared. On it a note that scrawled pepper-free, git.

Harry Potter had a lot to answer for. Draco, distracted, chipped away at the sandwich all the same, and was only shouted at twice, and didn’t even spill coffee on his keyboard.

‘Not exactly overtime’ at the office meant staying after everyone else to take note of stock and arrange all the impossible paperwork. That Draco was given this task was already hilarious, and always a disaster: that his boss insisted on continuing to give it to him, possibly commendable. Maybe he thought Draco was being stubborn. Maybe he thought, nobody could really be this bad without actively trying. Well, he didn’t know Draco yet! There was always time to learn.

Stock was stocked. The backroom was stuffy and still smelling slightly of smoke (not Draco’s fault, probably), the sweet dusty smell of paperwork going to rot. It made his head spin, not unpleasantly, made him inhale a little brokenly and laugh to himself. The sandwich from all the way back lunch sat heavy in his belly, sweating. Everything was so incredibly laughable.

When he finally finished (after only forgetting three steps in the protocol), the sun had long set and the streetlights were humming. Not worrying, Draco thought, going back to the office (forgot his bag). Not worrying at all (back to the office, to check he locked the door). (Why would anyone give him the keys?) (Some disasters were just asking to happen).

On his way home he stopped by the corner shop for another pack of biscuits. Some disasters, sure, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t prepare in advance. Harry Potter would surge in soon enough with another grievance. Draco was giddy by nature, and so the shakiness was not necessarily to do with this.

To the crescent moon drowning in cloud he wondered, do I hate peppers?

Couldn’t remember to decide by the time he made it back.

[wren-kitchens]

oooo dredge au drabble (pretend i’ve actually mentioned this au on tumblr shh) it’s not really long enough for proper formatting but it took me two weeks so. it’s going great over here

cw for torture

“must we always endure this? is my word not enough?”

gem turns, anger rising in her chest like a solid thing as she resists the very tempting urge to punch the stupid collector right in her stupid jaw. maybe then, gem would at least get answers about whatever this ‘crucial task’ she has to prepare for actually is, rather than vague messages about how she’s destined for it—whatever that means. it’s no real answer, that’s for sure; it sounds more like a cop-out of explaining whatever is actually happening.

“is your word- no, it absolutely is not!” gem snaps, and the air in the room seems to thicken. “you come in here with your demands that I get you the rarest items in the game, and not only do I not get payment, but you just keep giving me more jobs!”

the collector merely watches as gem tries her best not to start throwing stuff. honestly, she should be happy gem hasn’t already tried to strangle her, what with how ridiculous she is. “such performances are pointless; I will not elaborate.”

“oh, you’re one to talk.” gem scoffs indignantly. “your ridiculous claims that ‘the ocean does not wish to provide for you’, and i’m being dramatic?” gem takes a step towards her. “I don’t have to do this, you know. I can just stop- you can either do it on your own, or the outcome that you refuse to tell me just- won’t happen.” 

something catches in the collector’s eye—a red light from somewhere in the room. “I recommend that you do not chose that course of action.” her voice seems louder somehow, echoing around the room. 

“oh yeah?” gem folds her arms. “you think I care about- whatever you think you could do to me?”

the collector’s eyes are cold. “I believe you should.”

“you believe, do you?” gem snorts. “you can’t even leave! what do you think you can even do to me?” she turns around, ready to walk away. “look, grian was asking for my help with the underwater horse track, so i’m gonna-“

within an instant, it’s as if her blood has turned to fire, and gem crumples to the ground, a guttural scream tearing at the inside of her throat. her breaths are ragged- is she going to die- she’s going to die. grian mentioned something- code disintegrating- is that what this is? gem wouldn’t be surprised.

time seems to be disintegrating along with every fibre of her being- how long has gem been stuck in this seemingly eternal state of torment? her voice splinters- surely someone must have heard her by now; gem has certainly been suffering for centuries by now. 

her mind is decaying, her skin festering, her blood evaporating- she’s beyond any kind of help anyone could ever give. no one has ever felt this kind of debilitating agony before- no one has ever survived this far.

and then- as soon as it came, the torture dissipates, leaving gem choking out sobs on wet soil. that awful voice rings through her mind, dark and unforgiving; the ocean personified.

“yes. I believe you should.” 

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Thirty (Part 2)

“Fucking hell,” He twists away and grabs the front of his hair. The rain has eased to a mist now but the clouds still shield the sky and block the light out like an early dusk. His limbs become a bit stilted and stiff as though he’s forgotten how to control them. “Fuck,” he says hoarsely, and he drops onto the wet sand and shoves the heels of his hands into the sockets of his eyes “This is it then, isn’t it? Things are over with us.”

I hesitate for a moment before sitting next to him, and the seat of my dress immediately soaks through and I don’t care about it. “Yeah,” I say gently, “They have to be, don’t they?”

“There’s nothing I can do.”

“I want you to go and be happy.”

He lets out an agonised, strangled noise, and it takes me a second to realise that he has begun to sob into his hands, and it’s the strangest thing, but I think I can feel my heart physically breaking inside my chest, tearing apart, ripping right down the centre. I didn’t know that when people spoke about heartbreak that this is what they meant all along. The ache inside me feels unbearable, and I want so badly to reach for him and tell him that I don’t mean any of it, and yes, I’ll take that Green Card and yes, I’ll come and live in Los Angeles, but instead I cram my wrist to my nose and I cry with him because it seems like the only sensible thing I can do. 

And once I’ve started I cannot stop, and the tears come, and they come, and they fill my eyes until I can’t see a thing but the greys and blues of the sea blurring together like watercolour bleeding down the page, and then I wipe them and I look to my right where Jude’s head is bowed and his shoulders are shaking, and I tell him that I’m sorry. He says something I can’t understand because he is crying too hard, but I don’t know that it really matters what it was, because on some level I know what he’s saying. Just like I do, he simply hurts. 

He sniffs and drags the heel of his hand up across his nose. He shakes his head as tears roll off the end of his spiky lashes, “God,” He says eventually, “I just really thought- I think I took it for granted that I’d get to be with you forever, or something, like we were perpetual-” and he bares his teeth and heaves a shuddering sigh into his lungs, eyes fixed on his feet, embarrassed, like he can’t bear to look at me and see what I think of him crying on the ground. “I wanted everything,” he chokes out, “All of the stupid stuff, you know? Christmases and New Years, I wanted to get you birthday presents and anniversary presents and travel with you and just- just wake up with you and make you breakfast and-” he squeezes his eyes shut, “But like, I can’t have any of it and now I just have to live without you, and it’s so horrible-”

I comb my fingers through the back of his hair and I whisper, again, that I’m sorry.

“I love you,” He says, though he knows that it’s not enough, and I know it too, because loving Jude Turner is like loving a memory, the dream, the idea of a man that my seventeen year old self believed would solve me, would prove that I am worthy of happiness only because he loves me back. And perhaps it’s an idea that he loves too, a girl who would make him feel young and careless and reckless, who would expect nothing, ask nothing from him but to be free.

I swipe at my damp cheek, “Yeah but one day you won’t. Someday when I’m long gone you’ll look back on this time and you’ll think about how glad you were that you never compromised or let yourself be held back by some girl. And then-” I sniffle, “-when you’re living this amazing life, and you’re happy and you’re successful and surrounded by people who love you you’ll think ‘oh yeah, her, God, you know, I don’t even remember what her name was anymore.’”

“No,” he shakes his head firmly, “No, I’m going to love you for my whole life.”

And then I make the loneliest sound I’ve ever made, somewhere between a gasp and a sob as I relent and throw myself into his chest so that I can let him hold me. He kisses my hair so gently and rests his cheek upon my head and says simply, “I’ll miss you.”

“And I’ll miss you,” I reply, “And don’t think I’ll ever forget you either. You know that you’re going to be everywhere, you’ll be the ghost that follows me around. Every time I wake up and you aren’t there, or get home and you aren’t waiting at the door, and every time my feet touch this coastline, and I get into the sea, or see the roof of that beach house poking over the dunes I’ll think, you know, I really wish he was here, because everything I did was better when he did it with me,” I exhale thickly, “But then I’ll think of you somewhere else in the world where I know that you’ll be happy and I’ll just be happy to, because I want that for you, I really do, even if I don’t get to be a part of it.”

There’s a long pause while we cry together, and he reaches down to brush fresh tears from my cheekbones, “I feel lucky to have known you when I did,” He says, “When I- When I go to LA, you know, I doubt I’ll be back again for a very long time, and- God, -and by then who knows where your talent will have taken you and what you’ll be doing. To know you now feels like the greatest privilege, and I know that you’re telling yourself that I won’t remember you years from now, but actually I’ll be saying, yeah, I knew that girl once and she was incredible, I caught her in a moment in time and you should have seen her, when talent just radiated off her like the heat from a sunburn and she didn’t even know it yet.”

I turn to face him and look him dead in the eyes, because I don’t know the next time I’ll get to really look at them, “You’ll be happy,” I insist. If I mean it I can make it so.

“You too,” He says , “And maybe when we both are we’ll find our way back to each other again.”

“Yeah, I hope so,” I say, and in that moment the sun finally breaks through the clouds, just a sliver of it, and it hits the side of his beautiful face, glows on his cheek and his hair and through his brown eyes to turn them golden, the colour and warmth of flames.

That’s how I’ll always remember him. 

And when our story is over and the edges of the clouds turn pink and amber, I get up to walk away. I turn to look at him one more time though I can hardly bear to. Standing there in the sunlight he simply raises his hand. “I’ll see you, Evie,” He says. 

“Yes,” I say, “someday.”

THE END To my Tumblr readers, thank you so much for reading along. It's been a pleasure to share this story with you.

For a very long time I knew that I wanted to tell a story like this. I felt like I had so many things to say, about growing up, about this country, about the way it feels to inhabit it, how it felt to be young and bored with no money to spend during the recession era – the uniqueness of that particular moment in time and the feelings, places and people that have changed in the years since, but I just never got around to it.

One evening in July of 2022 my mother, who has become an avid wild swimmer since her retirement, took me down to the beach to take a dip in the sea. It’s a beach I’ve been on a thousand times having grown up just a few kilometers away from it. I’d swum in it, walked it, even worked on it for three summers during my early twenties but for some reason on that day I felt overwhelmingly nostalgic about it. This is not a very exciting beach, I thought, but isn’t it a bit beautiful in it’s own way. From my place, neck deep in the water I looked at the way the marram grass shimmered in the wind and bits of old fishing nets and driftwood littered the coarse sand. A line of identical holiday homes peeped up over a low stone wall, and a little corrugated iron summer house sat right in the middle of the dunes, flat roof, wooden deck. I’ve always wondered who owned it.

Later on I got home and typed a few paragraphs of a story on my computer. I hadn’t written a thing in years. Then I just didn’t stop.

I’d spent the entire pandemic overanalysing my teenage traumas, reliving the things I’d done in college and into the first years of my twenties. A lot of weird things happened to me. Very dramatic things, honestly. I think I am the sort of person that draws highly erratic types to me or perhaps is just inclined to stir up emotionally intense situations, and as a result my life had felt like a whirlwind, some sort of strange carousel until I was forced to step off it in 2020. There’s no point getting into it, really. You’ve read Lucky Girl, so you get the gist.

I have to say thank you to my wonderful friends for being my biggest cheerleaders during this process. They hyped me up and listened to my every thought, proof read, problem solved and helped me to understand that it’s not embarrassing to do this, in fact it’s actually pretty cool to publish a story in this way. Grace & Sarah, thanks for letting me borrow from your lives as much as I borrowed from my own, and for talking in circles with me about everything and anything that came into our heads. I love you to bits ❤

Also to my partner, who never read this story, but tells his friends that his girlfriend wrote a book!! Who brought me tea and cooked me food while I was in a whirlwind of inspiration. He really just wanted me to come into the living room so that we could watch Succession, or White Lotus, or X Files, or whatever else we were binging during the last 15 months, but he never complained. “Ah, sims.” He’d say, and shut the office door.

To my first love and my teenage friends, who I think of all the time. Who embodied a time and a space that I’ll never inhabit again, but I’ll never forget any of it. I remember all of the places or the people who were around me while I lived out the end of my childhood, and when I revisit the places we used to go there are a thousand tiny snapshots of memory everywhere. Of these teenagers that don’t exist anymore, who are all entering their thirties now, of the time we had, the person I used to be and the inexplicable importance of those few short years. Nowadays when I’m there, on those beaches and in those woods I swear it’s like there’s a ghost there with me, and it’s me, the person I used to be. I’m reminded of the incredible distance I’ve come since fifteen.

To my readers most of all, thank you from the bottom of my heart. You really kept me going when it got tough and when it all felt too close to the bone, and I was a bit too freaked out to write. Your comments made this story such a wonderful experience and I’m so glad that I got to share it with you all. I still kind of can’t believe that so many people have read this thing – it’s bizarre. I really didn’t think a single person would care, but here we are. You’re all angels.

All my love,

Hannah.

Beginning // Prev // Epilogue

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Aro4Aro Stancy Break-up AU Part 2

Part 1

As his fingers clutch Steve Harrington’s steering wheel hard enough that his knuckles turn white, Jonathan wishes he’d stayed at the party. The music was loud and vapid, the punch was rancid, but at least then he wouldn’t be alone in a car with a boy he barely knows past saving each other’s lives that one time in his living room.

He can still almost feel Steve’s hand in his, the way his fingernails raked over Jonathan’s still-bleeding palm until his colossus caught and held onto the bandage. Even when they’re sitting across from each other at lunch, pretending that they’re three normal teenagers, Jonathan swears they’re still in that living room. Nancy’s shooting and Steve’s still swinging the bat.

He takes a deep breath, letting it out slow.

“She said it’s bullshit,” Steve says.

Jonathan clears his throat. “What is?”

“We’re bullshit.”

“We?”

“Me and her,” Steve says. Jonathan can feel him looking at him. He keeps his eyes on the road as Steve laughs. It sounds wet. “Maybe just me.”

Silence falls in the car like a fog. Suffocating. Steve lingers in it the way he usually doesn’t. At lunch, in the halls, even when there’s nothing to say, he’s saying it anyway. Sports, schoolwork, what they’re having for lunch. It’s like silence strangles him. It’s strangling Jonathan now.

“You’re not bullshit.”

He risks a glance in Steve’s direction. He’s crying. Jonathan feels his throat close up.

“You don’t get it,” he says, voice cracking in the middle. They both pretend not to hear it, don’t question the long pause before he continues, “there’s something wrong with me.”

“What do–”

“I love Nancy,” Steve says. It hits Jonathan, suddenly, that he’s in no way equipped to be Steve Harrington’s couples counselor. His only working example of a relationship growing up had Lonnie Byers as half of it. Steve continues unimpeded. “She’s literally perfect, Byers.”

Jonathan nods, waits for Steve to continue. When he doesn’t, Jonathan says, “that doesn’t mean she’s perfect for you.”

Steve sobs. Just once, before getting himself back together. It sounds raw and wounded in his throat. Jonathan’s hand twitches.

“There’s something wrong with me,” he says again, sounding frantic. “I should love her, right?”

“Steve–”

“So, why does saying I love her make me feel nauseous?” he asks, steamrolling over any response Jonathan could even think of giving. That’s okay. He’s got nothing. “Why do the fucking date nights and the fucking parties and all the fucking gestures make me want to run?”

“I don’t–”

“I love Nancy,” he says, slamming his open palm on the glove compartment for it to open, sending CD’s spilling onto the floor. Steve barely seems to notice. “It’s good sometimes, right? Like, when we’re all sitting at our lunch table, and I say something stupid and you both laugh at me, but Nancy does it behind her hand because she at least pretends to be nice to me. That’s good, right Byers?”

Jonathan feels choked up, keeps his eyes on the road, wonders how a night could spiral so quickly, wonders where he’s going to sit at lunch tomorrow. “Yeah,” he says, swallowing the knot in his throat. “It’s good.”

“But why do I feel the same about hanging out with you as I do her?” he asks.

Jonathan doesn’t say anything, waits until they’re at a stop sign with his foot firmly on the break to glance over at Steve. He’s curled in on himself, hands shaking in his lap. It reminds Jonathan alarmingly of that night, when he’d seen Nancy and Steve unravel in the face of monsters that crawl from the walls.

“Tell me what you mean,” Jonathan says, but he thinks he knows.

“What’s the difference,” Steve asks, like he’s picking each word out of his brain with care. “Between a girlfriend and a friend?”

Jonathan thinks of Will, how sometimes he looks at Mike like he’s so bright it hurts. He thinks of the way Steve’s eyes had looked almost afraid as he’d slung slurs in Jonathan’s direction in the heat of the moment.

There’s a pit sinking in his stomach. He swallows it down. “Do you–” he stops.

“Do I what?”

The air feels charged as Jonathan takes his foot off the break, continuing his drive to Steve’s house.

“Do you even want a girlfriend?” he asks.

Steve breaths in like he’s been punched. Jonathan feels sick.

No more words are exchanged. The silence hangs like a noose. Jonathan settles into it.

When he pulls up to the empty, encompassing Harrington house, he thinks he gets why silence is something to be feared for Steve Harrington. There’s no lights on in the Harrington house, no cars in the driveway. It doesn’t feel right to drive away, Steve silhouetted in the light of the moon, the shadow of his own front door hanging over him.

When Jonathan pulls into his own driveway, his Mom’s left the porch light on, welcoming him home.

[reashot]

Rw-By-oh ARC V/ Beware the Vermillion Flash/ The conclusion to Victor's matricidal urges.

The Arc Kids. For anyone that's not up to date:

Previously....

Victor: This is all your fault!!!

Weiss: *choked* (Please someone save me. Ruby. Please save me Jaune...)

Victor cannot believe that this is finally happening. He finally have the bitch's throat on his hands. All those years of abuse he and his sister had to endure by her after their father died. And all those atrocities he had to commit under her order. All of it will finally come to an end. And all he needs to do, is just to slightly tighten his grips on her neck... Or he could just do it quickly and snap her neck. Decision, decision... Victor then looks down at her and see she is struggling to breath as she gasping for air. And in her eyes he can see that she is slowly losing the light from her eyes. He smiled as she's finally about to die. But suddenly she raised a hand. Victor expected that she's trying to get away from him by hitting him. But to his surprise she instead reaches out to caress his face.

He's too shocked to even react to it. It is the first time in a long time that he felt something like this. His eyes went wide in disbelief by Weiss's action. He looks down at her one more and to his surprise He did not see Weiss dying face but instead he is greeted with a gentle smile on her face. A smile that's usually reserved for when a mother lovingly looks at her children.

(This can't be real.) He thought to himself.

But it is real and to add another layer of disbelief. Weiss is moving her lips trying to convey something to him. Not through sound because Victor is currently strangling her. But she say it through the movement of her mouth. Victor may not be a lip reader but he can still make out what she's trying to convey to him.

I. Forgive. You...

(This is not real. ) He thought to himself.

(W-why do you have to act like a mother to me now!)

'She's not her...' A familiar voice reaches out to him seemingly out of nowhere.

(I KNOW THAT!!! You think I didn't know that.)

'Don't kill her...' Again the voice said trying to stop him from killing her.

What ever the voice said to him clearly work. Because he starts to loosen his grip on Weiss's neck. But before he can completely let her go. Victor notices a silver flash coming right towards him in blinding speed. Using the reflex and quick decision making he hone during the war he let go of his grip on Weiss and swiftly dodged out off the way of the flash.

Victor: Show yourself!?

???: I gotta give it to you. You're probably the only few people I know that is able to dodge my Gintetsu.

Victor: Yeah. Then maybe you should get closer so you can congratulate me better.

The person that saved Weiss then walks closer a way to introduce himself to the two of them.

Victor: What it can't be?

Weiss: *cough* *wheeze* J-Jaune you came... Wait you're not him?

The person that saved her shares the same face with Jaune just like her son. But unlike Jaune he exudes more self-confidence, more prideful and he walks towards them with a swagger like he is the only person in the entire place.

???: The name is Vermillion Rose-Arc. It seems you're already acquainted with my useless old man. And you two must be Weiss and Victor.

Victor: How did you know our name?

Vermillion: My little sister Scarlett told me all about you two. You know when she starts talking she never stop. My little sister is cute like that. But anyway please step away from Mrs. Schnee. I know enough about you that you are too dangerous to be left alone with anyone let alone her of all people.

Victor: How about you go mind your fucking business. This is a family affairs. Stay out of it!

Vermillion: Geez. You try to be nice to people for once... Okay put your sword up. I don't want you to make excuse after I cut you down.

Victor: Not before I plunge Myrtenaster down your throat.

Weiss: *cough* w-wai... *cough*

As Weiss tried to stop the two boys from killing each other. The two of them are already in their respective battle stance. Victor with his Schnee's family fencing stance with his sword pointing at blonde boy. In contrast to Vermillion's sword which is still sheathed. Weiss notices that his stance is an Iaido stance. A sword technique that utilizes the quick unsheathing of a blade to attack. The two scan for each other's weakness. While waiting for an opening to come. Any loss of concentration would spell the end for them. That is how serious the two view each other's skill. Even a small distraction would prove deadly....

Scarlett: There he is. There's that ice jerk! 😠

Ruby: And he's with Weiss too... Oh no she's on the floor. He must have done something to her! 😫

Yang: I knew we shouldn't let you live!

Dusk: W-why Mr. Snowman I thought we're friend. How could you lie to us we even made pinky promise... *sniff*

Blake: (He makes my Dusky Wusky cry, he must die 💀)

Aurum: Oathbreaker!!! I will make sure you pay for this treachery!

Victor: I guess they finally here. Took them long enough.

Vermilion: Did Dusk just call you Mr. Snowman?

Victor: Do not let it disctract you from our duel.

Vermilion: Would not even dream of it. Mr. Snowm....

Before he could finish his sentence. Victor starts the opening attack by launching multiple thrust at his blonde counterpart. Vermilion can only react by deflecting and blocking the thrusts with his Katana. Vermilion tries to land a hit at him but Victor never let up in his attack. This forced Vermilion to take up a more defensive position. Their fierce battle causes all that watches them to stand still in awe. Weiss on the other hands are still trying to stop the fight, but when she tries no voice came out. Vermillion having had enough playing defense starts going on the offensive. Vermillion quickly sheathe and unsheathe his Katana releasing a flurry of slashes too quick to be seen by the naked eyes. Each slashes hit fast and true and Victor can feels that his Aura starts to deplete as fast as he can throw his slashes. Victor knowing he can't win against him in close combat decides to jump back giving him some distances to work with. Vermillion simply falls back into his Iai stance readying himself for anything Victor is preparing for him. Victor then summons a large dragon. The same kind of dragon that he summoned against the others the last time they fought. Fafnir. Unleasing his dragon Victor felt his victory to be assured.

Vermillion: *sigh* Taurus Hiden Ryū. Akatsuki.

Just as the large dragon appeared suddenly out of nowhere they also suddenly disappeared. Victor was shocked to say the least it's not the first time he saw his dragon being defeated but at least it took multiple strikes from the golden knight before it's defeated. Vermillion took the dragon out with just one strike.

It's not just Victor that's at loss for words everyone that watches it cannot believe what they just saw with the exception of his sister.

Scarlett: That's my bro.

But probably none is more shocked than Blake.

Blake: Adam?

Vermillion: So... You ready to call it quit now?

Victor: Shut up! This is not over yet. I don't like doing this but you forced my hand. I'm going to summon something that I never tried before.

Vermillion: Seriously take the L man... *sigh* oh all right I'll bite what Grimm I will be facing next. Nuckleave, Behemoth, Erlkönig? Mind you I beaten most of them already.

Victor: No... This not will be a Grimm you'll be facing unfortunately.

Unlike the usual white colored summoning circle however the summoning circle Victor used is Black. And what came out of it is something that no one expected him to summon.

Yang: Ruby?

Scarlett: Mom? 😧

Ruby: (Oh sweet Oum. I'm hot 🤯. Take that Yang. Who's going to end up as a pipsquak forever now.)

Blake: Wait a minute how are you able to do that? Weiss's Semblance can only summon Grimm that she defeated. She can't summon a person....

Aurum: You really did killed her?

Vermillion: You....

Victor: Yeah I killed the Ruby Rose of my timeline. And I only recently figured out how to summon her after my last fight with you clowns.

Vermillion: I change my mind. I will kill you now. You are too dangerous to be let alive.

Vermillion pulls the trigger of his Katana/Gun hybrid. The blade shot through the sheath at blinding speed. He then angle the blade slightly in order to deliver an equally blinding slash at Victor. But his blade is then quickly blocked by the summoned Ruby's scythe. He looks at the moving corpse of his mother and felt disgusted seeing her like this. It's bad enough to know that she was killed but seeing her raised from the dead to serve as his slave. It's textbook sacrilege! He knows that this Ruby is not his mother but he still can't help feeling like she is. And if she is anything like her mother, that means she can kick his ass like she did the last time during weekend D&D family game. He doesn't want to do this but if she is half as strong as his own mom then he has no other choice but to use it. He slowly blink and then suddenly a bright flash of light appears from his eyes. Everyone that has their eyes fixed on him is temporarily blinded. And when they finally regains their sight. The other Ruby is gone. Leaving all of them confused as to how Vermillion managed to do that. But before everyone can process what just happened. In the blink of an eyes Vermilion's blade managed to break Victor's Aura. Caught by suddenness of the attack Victor can't react to it quickly in time. Without his Aura to shield him, Victor knows that he will not survive if Vermillion decides to follow through with his attack. Preparing for the next attack Vermillion sheathe his blade and prepare to pull the trigger. With the intention to kill him. But when he is about to do it. Weiss suddenly stood in front of him. Finally finding the strength to stop all of this madness happening in front of her.

Weiss: STOP IT!!!

Victor: M- I mean. Weiss what are you doing? You stupid bitch! You could have died!!!

Vermillion: Wow... Talk about irony. Mr. Snowman there is right, though. You could have been killed if I didn't stop in the last second. What were you thinking?

Weiss: I don't know. My body suddenly moved on their own.

Vermillion: I see... Anyway, can you please step aside for a second. I'm gonna cut his head off...

Ruby: Cut his head... You mean kill him?! 😱

Yang: Wow! Wait a minute, isn't that going too far!!!

Aurum: You are right mother. No matter how much of villain Victor is no one have any right to end people's life.

Dusk: No. Poor Mr. Snowman. Please someone, please save Mr. Snowman.

Blake: (He's just like Adam.)

Scarlett: Bro please don't... 😐

Vermillion: Look. I don't take pleasure in this. But you all saw that he tried to kill Weiss right? He's a threat and a danger to everyone around him. An animal like him deserves to be put down.

Blake: (I stand corrected. He's not like Adam. He is Adam.)

Weiss: I will not move from this spot and I will not let you kill him!

Vermillion: Weiss. I will only say this once. If you continue to protect him. I cannot be held responsible for what I'm about to do next...

Victor: Stay away from me Weiss. This is between me and him!

Weiss: No!

Vermillion: You do know that he tried to kill you, right? Twice in fact. What on Remnant possess you to defend him?

Weiss: That's because he is my son...

Victor: Weiss...

Vermillion: *sigh* Fine... You're off the hook snowball. (I'm getting soft like my old man.)

Weiss then turns around and gives Victor something he probably hasn't receives for a long time. A hug. Victor then burst into tears after receiving the hug. It as if a dam finally burst letting out all the tears he been holding out within him for all those years. His hand then slowly reaches out to her. Vermillion ready his sword in case he gets any idea. But he just hugs her and cried on Weiss's shoulder.

Jaune: What's everyone doing here... Wait. Scarlett and the rest of my kids are here too. Did I miss something?

Vermillion: We're just having a peaceful resolution to a long drawn family dispute. Nothing serious happened here, really.

Yang: He said that after he threaten to kill Weiss's kid.

Aurum: Honored mother. I don't think we should tell father what transpired here.

Scarlett: Absomundo bigger bro. The last thing we want is to give our dad more reason to worry about. And beside the situation already been resolved. Thanks to Vermy. 🧐

Ruby: I guess so, but I still don't like to hide thing from Jaune. 😔

Dusk: Yay! Daddy is here.

Jaune: I see... Well if you managed to solve Victor's mom issue then I guess it's all right then. But who are you supposed to be?

Vermillion: Oh! I'm also your son's from the future and Scarlett's brother.

Jaune: Of course the face should have given it away. I'm sorry. It just that I have a lot on my mind right now.

Vermillion: Don't be dad. It's my fault for not informing everyone here earlier. Ha, ha, ha..... Say dad how about the two of us and Victor spend some father and sons quality time together. I bet we have a lot to talk about.

Blake: (Who is this guy? He said he is Jaune's son but the way he fought and his weapon are closer to Adam than Jaune. And why is he asking to spend time with Victor. After trying to kill him earlier?)

Aurum: ... Why am I not invited to this father son quality time?

Jaune: Okay I guess but we have to do it some other time. Right now I have something important to do right now.

Vermillion: No problem dad. I can just pull up a portal with my silver eyes.

Ruby: (So that's how they all get here. 🤨)

Weiss: Wait Jaune I want to ask. Where have you been? We haven't seen you around in weeks.

Yang: Oh yeah that's right, we were just talking about this. Jaune why the F are you avoiding us!

Ruby: Why Jaune. Do you not like us anymore? 😭

Jaune: No! Sweet Ohm no! There's no way I don't like you girls... It's just that it's hard to meet everyone after everything that just happened.

Yang: Well, we're here right now. And we're not going to let you go until you tell us everything. If you don't want to see us anymore then it's fine just tell us why?

Jaune: That's what I'm about to do. I would prefer we do this with just the five of us. But with my kids being here. And as weird as that sound. This must be sign that I should do this in front of everyone.

Truthfully the reason I've been avoiding everyone lately is because I've been working odd jobs to buy everyone something....

Ruby: *gasp* Are you buying us something! What is it? I bet it's something wonderful. 😚

Jaune: Ruby, Weiss Blake and Yang.... will you marry me?

Everyone: What!!! ______________________

And that's the end of Jaune's (future children) Arc. And as usual I will only make a continuation or in this case an epilogue. if it gets enough traction. So some of you must be asking why is Vermy used the same weapon, fighting style and generally closer to Adam Taurus despite being Jaune Arc's son? Well there's the like and quote button below. Better start pressing it. Also don't forget to comment.

[phantomenby]

"Just one more"

Anonymous asked:

May I PLEASE 🙏 have some headcanons for Dwayne being absolutely whipped for the reader? Like when he holds your hand, kisses you neck...just all the ways he's dominant but in a super protective (sexy) and loving way 👁👁

why are the eye emojis so human they keep watching me while im writing this :(

It took Dwayne a while to approach you when he saw you out on the beach late at night, strolling while kicking at the sand beneath your sneakers

Your scent got to him first, savoury and rich.

Followed immediately by David trying to make a snack out of you before Dwayne yanked him back by his coat.

-

David choked as he was dragged back and away from the unsuspecting human which had wandered far out into the darkness and straight into his path.

Just as he was about to lunge at you he found his friend yanking on the collar of his coat and strangling him with the rugged cloth, turning with a growl he was expecting to be met with a good reason for the action when he was instead met with Dwayne's blown out eyes.

"Oh...OH!" Laughter erupted from the blonde as Dwayne fought to keep him quiet, slight embarrassment burning through him as David's mocking laughter grew louder and louder.

"Cut it out man they're gonna-"

The two vampires froze as they heard you pause, the chain that dangled on your belt jingling as you turned towards where they had begun wrestling on the other side of a sand dune.

When you resumed your movements Dwayne let out a sigh of relief, watching you walk back towards the road where you would be slightly safer before resuming his attack on his brother.

-

It didn't take long for him to finally suck up the courage to actually talk to you, seeing you had been one thing but oh boy, talking to you was a whole other ball park

And his packmates knew now, about you.

Thus leading to a constant barrage of teasing and playful bullying from them at every waking moment

-

"Oh, Paulie however will he cope?!" Marko fell against Paul's chest, hand pressed to his head as he swooned dramatically, "my love- please read some poetry til my mind turns to mush and I am forced to-"

"Hush my love-" Paul pressed a finger to Marko's lips, silencing him and cooing softly, "save your breath."

Across the cave Dwayne was watching on, slumped against the wall of the cave while David clapped encouragingly at the performance.

"Stop encouraging them."

David barked a laugh, waving the joint he had lit up in front of Dwaynes face, "never."

-

Three weeks later and he was taking you out to some cutesy little diner.

But you were perfect, dressed up in some flared jeans and shiny burgundy cowboy boots, with a fluffy denim jacket wrapped around you snugly.

If only Dwayne could get a fucking grip and look you in the eye.

-

It had been fifteen minutes. Fifteen long awkward minutes of fiddling with the menu while the man across from you looked around the diner like he was being held hostage.

I mean he is really cute, like really cute. But you had already dealt with him being twenty minutes late - something you would never know what due to Dwayne attempting to pussy out of the whole thing but being dragged here by Marko and David.

"Should we order?"

Dwayne's eyes flashed towards you, making you shuffle nervously in your seat.

When he didn't immediately respond you began again, chewing your lip as you mumbled out the words, "you know we don't have to do this, I can just go-"

"No!-" Dwayne cleared his throat, knowing if he had been human his skin would be cherry red with embarrassment. Looking you over he could tell how badly he must have sounded, practically shouting at you as you sat with wide eyes. "I- I just, I'm sorry I didn't mean to be such a prat I'm just not used to the whole slow dating thing..."

It was true, he wasn't. Most of the people he "dated" were either potential meals or someone to burn some energy off with. The last time he had even bothered to get close to someone was in the sixties and they ended up moving halfway across the planet after a month.

"Thats okay, I'm not great at it either," you sent him your sweetist smile, eyes shining where they could be seen peeking above the rims of your glasses, "though I doubt were gonna get graded, might as well just enjoy it." -

Your first 'date' together ended with the two of you walking around the boardwalk after sharing some fries and a milkshake.

It became a regular thing until the two of you became more comfortable with each other, finding that Dwayne preferred to come to your home or you to his when he finally revealed what he was.

With the acceptance of what he was, he became even clingier, always pressing himself to your side when you walked together, pressing his lips and nose against your skin to rub his scent in. And never ever letting you get away from him when you were in your nest together.

"Dwayne baby- Ah! Stop it!"

It was a good thing your neighbors were out of town, between the sounds of your boyfriend climbing up to your apartment and the screams of (mostly) glee that followed you sure they would have come knocking by now.

Dwayne didn't let you worry for long, pinning you to your soft couch and pressing his cool lips across your neck and shoulders roughly as his fingers teased your sides.

You tried to get him to stop, pushing against his chest and gasping out words in between breaths as your chest seized.

"Christ- have mercy!"

Laughing at your pleas he finally shifted his hands away from your plump waist, dragging one up to hold your flushed face while the other lay firmly on your soft hip.

"Given up so soon?" His mocking coo didn't help as you huffed at him, turning away from his lips as they descended upon you. Your decision was followed by a growl, as well as lips pressing to your jaw slowly.

The action made you shiver, warmth flowing through you as your cheeks heated oh so deliciously, Dwayne's eyes naturally darkening at the growing scent of your sweet blood rushing to your flesh.

"Oh, hun..."

Realising the predicament you were in you looked up at him, meeting his dark eyes with your own which widened in slight fear, encouraging him further as he descended back upon you.