#locking us in rooms together and physically forcing me to hold his hand

[lunar-fey]

oh i hate facebook so much. killing and biting etc

[evie-sturns]

no one has to know what we do - Chris Sturniolo

summary: ever since you met the triplets in 3rd grade, youve had been closest with chris. you've never admitted it to anyone but you've been madly inlove with him for a few years now. the triplets 20th birthday comes around, they celebrate by inviting the friend group to their house for the weekend, what happens when you and chris are left alone in his bedroom, will things stay the same, or will you two be forced to sneak around.

contains: smut, fwb!chris, sneaking around friends, swearing, fluff.

------------------┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐-----------———-

♫.. no one has to know what we do, his hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room..♫

I've known the triplets since i could walk, marylou and my mom met in highschool so i've grown up around the nick matt and chris my whole life. ive always been closest with chirs,

but i hate to admit the fact that i've been thinking about him differently, a lot differently. i've never though about matt in that way though, even though they're practically the same. it's something about chris's hair, i've always wondered how my fingers would feel laced through his brown locks while he rests between my thighs.

6:39pm, friday night.

i push open the sturniolos front door to find nick, chris, matt, madi, nate, and several other friends from highschool, hannah, grace and yolanda, leaning on the counter, all laughing with eachother.

''hey!!" chris says with a wide grin, running up to me and wrapping his arms around me. "chrisss" i smile back at him.

this weekend is the sturniolos birthday, they've invited madi, me, nathan, and 3 other friends round for friday night, saturday and sunday, for those three nights chris and i are sharing a room, alone.

he grabs my small tote brag i brought and chucks it into the spare room. i walk into the kitchen and greet everyone else, instantly getting dragged by nick into the living room.

"we're watching the grinch." madi declares, "fuck no! its the middle of fucking august" nick yells back, nate chimes in, adding something to the debate.

before i can open my mouth i feel a cold hand grab my arm, its chris.

my head swings around, my hair hitting his neck. "c'mon" chris says, taking me over to the couch and throwing himself down and patting the spot next to him. i flop next to him, cuddling close to his side as everybody else piles down, "so we're watching the grinch?" madi says with a cheeky smile, "no." nick instantly replies, switching the tv on.

the intro song to rapunzel blasts through the small room, a loud cheer comes from the 7 other people around chris and i.

i'm basically frozen, my mouth won't move and i can feel my heart pounding out of my chest. sure, chris and i have been friends forever but god hes been so physical the past few weeks its been hard to hold myself together.

"you okay?" chris whispers down into my hair.

"yeah!" i chirp back

"you seem nervous"

"im not."

im 90% sure he knows.

"im sorry this movie is ASS." nate says, interrupting the movie. "gotta say, i do kinda agree with you." madi replies, "i told you the grinch was better!" she says, earning a boo from nick.

nick leans over to me, "go get a boardgame from chris's room cause these fuck heads aren't happy with rapunzel." he tutts.

i heave myself up off the couch, "chris where do you keep your array of boardgames" i scoff, shaking my head with a smile. "first of all i dont have 50 boardgames i play" he laughs as he walks over to me.

i walk upstairs towards chris's room, him closley behind me still yapping about the fact hes not that big of a fan of board games.

i open the large wooden door to chris's room, the familiar sight filling my vision.

chris shuts the door behind us, i don't question it, he probably just wants to keep his room air conditioned. i look back at him,

"so where are the-" i start but get interrupted by chris's hand on my jaw, he looks at my lips then my eyes, then my lips before slamming his onto mine.

i kiss him back. of course i do? i've practically dreamt about this moment since i was 16.

"i know i make you nervous y/n" he rasps into my lips, his second hand grabbing my cheek as he walks us back, our lips still connected as my back hits the wall, pinning me down slightly with his mouth.

he pulls away for a second, scanning my face for a readable expression. "chris" i breathe out, running my hand through my hair.

"im sorry, im so fucking sorry i shouldnt've done that-" he starts, taking a step back, "chris." i interrupt him, reconnecting our lips.

"you make me nervous, really fucking nervous." i say into his lips, his hand finds its way to the back of my head, his fingers intertwined in my hair.

suddenly the door to his bedroom rattles, i instantly pull away, my head spinning round to look at the door which is being pushed open/

madi, matt, nick and 3 of our other friends walk in, all laughing with each other about god knows what, i scramble towards the closet, looking for any board game i can.

i pull out the despicable me version of 'game of life' which has several minions on the front. a small laugh exits my mouth before i join the small circle which has formed on the floor with our friends.

"y/n...." matt says with a laugh, grabbing the board game off me "despicable me?" hannah says with a scoff

"im sorry! chris doesn't have the collection of board games i expected!" i tease back.

"it'll be okay!" grace says, a somewhat optimistic smile painted across her face.

chris joins the circle of friends on the floor, sitting down opposite me. hes got a small panicked expression, his lips red and raw, his cheeks a deep pink. his eyes are fixed on mine.

"so whos gonna roll first?" nick chuckles.

(8:45pm)

madi won the boardgame about 30 minutes ago, i've been laying on the floor of chris's room with all of our friends, execept for chris.

he disappeared while everyone was celebratings madis 'epic' win.

"we've gotta play truth or dare.." yolanda says, "like the corny middle school shit you know?"

nick claps his hands with a goofy grin, followed by matt rolling his eyes but later agreeing.

"nick, truth or dare" grace laughs,

i stand up off the floor, walking out of chris's room while everyones distracted watching nick try to do a head stand.

the wooden stairs creak as i jog down them, i swing open the back door and im met with chris. he's sitting on the outdoor bench, scrolling aimlessly through his phone.

his head shoots up to look at me as i walk over to the bench, sitting under it.

"hey!" he says smiling, then putting his phone down on the armrest.

"how was despicable me game of life?" chris nudges me in the arm, a stupid smile on his pink lips.

"shut up!" i scoff, flicking his arm softly.

a silence fills the air, only sounds of distant cars vaguely humming in the background. chris runs a hand through his brunette hair, his long fingers peeking through the strands of his hair.

"um-" chris clears his throat.

"chris.." i whisper i start, then get off by his voice

"i dont think i'm ready for a relationship."

my heart sinks.

i didnt even say i liked him like that to his face?

"come with me." he declares, standing up abruptly grabbing my hand and pulling me inside.

everyone's hanging out in the living room, nobodys really paying attention to rapunzel anymore. nicks head shoots up "y/n come over!!" he smiles at me.

"we're gonna go get ready for bed, super tired." chris speaks for me. i run over to nick, giving him and matt a goodnight hug before returning to chris. he grabs my hand firmly then pulls me upstairs into his room, slamming the door shut behind us

my heart thumps as chris looks down at me, his hand reaches out for my chin, his other hand firmly gripping my waist as his fingertips lightly squeeze my waist. i stare at his lips, he stares at mine before colliding them for the second time today.

without another word his shirt is across the room, his necklace resting on his chest. my shirt follows, ending up somewhere around the room. "chris" i moan lightly into his lips as his hand snakes round to my back, unclasping my bra and letting it fall to the floor.

he frantically rips off his sweatpants, i shimmy my shorts down my legs.

the air surrounding us grows hot as i fall back onto his bed, "chris- we can't, nick always tells me that he'd kill me if i even though about his brothers sexually, i mean-" i ramble, but chris cuts me off.

"no one has to know what we do." he whispers, his hands intertwined in my hair.

my eyes switch from chris, to the amount of our clothes scattered across his room, the same room chris and i grew up in.

i nod "okay." a smile creeps across my face.

chris pulls off my panties, throwing them ontop of his desk. he pauses for a second, his eyes exploring every inch of my body. "oh my god." he mutters, "you okay?" he asks quickly while he pulls down his boxers, his hard length springing out. his dick is strangely perfect, "yeah, more than okay.." i whisper, my eyes fixed on his cock.

he nods "you've done.. this before right?" chris laughs slightly. "yeah- yeah" i giggle. "you're so pretty." he says, stroking his length while his eyes stare at my exposed body.

"ready?" he asks, his tip lightly pressing against my hole.

i'm not even fully processing whats happening right now, the boy i've secretly been practically inlove with for a few years is now about to fuck me.

"very." i tease, gripping the sheets for support. he pushes into me, a low whimper escaping his mouth "squeezing me so well." he stutters, bottoming out in me.

i let out a string of moans as i arch my back off the bed "so good, doing so good." he says, his thrusts rapidly increasing in pace and intensity. his fingers lace into my hair, tugging lightly but not painfully.

i let out a desperate groan "chris- fuck!"

he reaches a hand down and presses on my lower stomach, feeling how deep he is inside of me. "you feel me?" he says in between thrusts.

I squeeze my eyes shut, my vision fogged.

"i said you feel me?" he mumbles, his hair flopping with each time his tip hits my cervix.

"yes! yes-" i blurt out,

chris grabs my throat, pinning me down to the bed.

my eyes open in shock, a few short breaths exiting my mouth.

"finish, finish for me."

and with those words i do, i clench around him and release my built up orgasm. chris instantly lets go of my throat being careful not to push me too hard, he pulls out, painting my stomach with warm streaks of white.

"fuck...." he groans, throwing his head back.

i catch my breath as chris collapses next to me, he pulls me ontop of his body as he strokes my hair.

"you did so well." he whispers into my hair.

after a good 10 minutes of laying in silence i break it,

"um chris.."

"yes?" he replies.

"what are we.. now."

another silence fills the room "i dont know." he says, a bit of guilt in his voice.

he starts "i mean if you give me a few weeks we can put a label on us or we could just stay friends and forget this happened but i dont know if i want that because i really enjoyed this but i mean we could be friends with benefits-"

i interuppt his rambles "friends with benefits!?" i say with a small smile.

"if you want, could be fun like sneaking around.."

i nod frantically at chris's words "i'd like that."

-

(saturday 5pm)

after yesterday nights unexpected encounter chris and i have kept our promise, this whole day everyones been hanging out at the pool but currently we're in the bathroom, and hes fully inside of me.

"fuck-" he mumbles, slamming into me as i sit on the countertop. my bikini bottoms are pulled to the side as he pounds into me repeatedly, "close." he warns.

i clench around him, the knot in my stomach snapping as i release around his length with a scream of his name. he pulls out, orgasming on my thighs.

"you okay?" he asks, panting as he wipes my thigh with his hand.

i collide our lips together "yeah." i mumble into his mouth.

a few seconds pass before we pull away, he helps me down off the countertop as i catch my balance.

he grabs my hand and unlocks the bathroom door, he guides us both back to the pool, rejoining all our friends like we weren't fucking each other 3 minutes ago.

i lay down by the poolside, my legs shaking slightly from the intensity of the past events.

chris sits down next to me "you got a little something." he whispers with a laugh, quickly reaching down and wiping my thigh where we missed a spot.

(1 month later)

a month ago today chris and i were sneaking around at his 20th birthday party, for the past 4 weeks we've been meeting up at each other's houses, hooking up every time we get the chance. we didnt speak about anything, i think hes happy staying friends with benefits even though i want more, ive needed more for 3 years.

11:32pm

i roll over in bed, checking my phone one last time before i fall asleep. suddenly my phone frantically vibrates,

its chris?

i pick up the phone "chris its late..." i groan into the phone.

"i need to talk to you, can i come over.. please?" he asks innocently, "okay if you want to just talk, im so tired."

i hang up, after a couple minutes i hear the rumble of chriss car in my driveway, followed by his footsteps upstairs. he swings open the door to my room "hey!" he says nervously, jumping into bed beside me. "you alright?" i ask, holding his hand.

he stays silent for a few seconds, before starting.

"i think im in love with you?" he blurts out.

"you- what?" i repeat, confusion painted in my voice.

"i know, but for the past few.. years? ive liked you- alot.. and i dont just want you to be my fuck buddy anymore, i want to be more."

he takes a deep breath, i stay silent in shock.

"i feel the absolute exact same Christopher." i say, looking over at him.

"do you wanna.. make things official." he asks quietly.

i roll over ontop of him, smothering him in kisses "yes!" i laugh, wrapping my arms around him. relief washes over his face.

we lay still for a few minutes, "can i stay the night?" he asks with a laugh, "please do." i reply, my eyes fluttering shut.

we lay in silence for a few minutes, but a small laugh exits his mouth.

"yeah?" i smile into his chest.

"nothing it was just painfully obvious i was head over heels for you, how did you not guess" he laughs

"chris, im sorry but i was terrified to make a move purely because of how it wasnt obvious." i say, planting the 84th kiss of the night on his face.

----------------------------

[sunsetsimon]

not smutty but, what do you think the boys love languages are?

(sorry if you already answered this)

also, love your blog and so relieved to hear that you’re okay🩷🩷

thank you so much darling <3

johnny's love language is physical touch. he feels most connected to you when he's able to cuddle, hug, and hold you. deployments become harder the longer you're together as he doesn't want to be gone as long. phone calls and letters matter to him greatly of course, but all he can think about is having you back in his arms.

some of his favorite things to do are giving you massages, showering/bathing together, cuddling, and holding hands. he's always sneaking his hand under the table to grab yours, pulling it to rest on his thigh so he can play with your fingers. lightly rubbing each knuckle, his soft touch tickles you, a silent way for him to say "i love you".

his favorite place for you to touch him is on the back of his neck.

simon's love language is quality time. all he wants to do is be around you, even if there's no talking involved. having your presence calms him and makes him feel complete. you constantly catch him staring at you, his eyes following you every time you move around the room as if he'd miss something. don't even think about being slick about something, simon will see it!

his favorite part of the day is winding down in bed with you, reading his book while you lay beside him, searching for a show to watch on the tv. if you're going out to do something, he automatically assumes that he'll be going with you. what do you mean you're going to the store without him? :( of course he still gives you your space, but if you ask him, he'll say he doesn't need any.

si is clingy in his own little ways <3

kyle's love language is words of affirmation. he loves to talk to you, sharing new thoughts and facts with each other constantly. he’s listening of course, keeping every word locked in a special corner of his mind, dedicated for you. but he can’t help but get distracted by your beauty. those lips that he loves to kiss so much, your facial expressions that he loves to read, your gestures that he loves to watch, kyle is so smitten.

“you’re so beautiful,” he says randomly, after you’ve just spent the last few minutes explaining the book you’ve been reading. it takes you aback, blinking at him until you realize what he’d said.

“thank you,” you blush, completely forgetting what you’d just been saying. his gaze suddenly feels intense, the love radiating off of his body and filling the room.

“c’mere and give me a kiss.”

john's love language is acts of service. no matter how much you beg him to relax, he feels the constant need to be doing something. and what better to stay busy with than doing everything for his partner? if he knows that it’ll take you energy to do it, he’s making sure it gets done before you can even think about it!

keeping the bills in order, cleaning, cooking dinner, grocery shopping, you name it - john’s on it. he doesn’t particularly enjoy doing mundane life things, but he feels fulfilled when he’s able to take care of you in more ways than just financially.

you have to beg him to just relax with you, to order take out and cuddle while watching random movies all night. of course he can’t resist you though, anything to make his partner happy :)

könig's love language is physical touch! he's not one for PDA, but he will rest his hand at the small of your back just to guide you and keep you close. good luck escaping him at home though, because he'll find any excuse to touch you!

back hugs, gripping your thigh, washing you in the shower, he wants it all. könig is huge, about twice the size of most humans, so he uses this to his advantage to trap you in bed with him. his body pins you to the mattress, forcing you to submit to his nonstop cuddles.

“where are you trying to go? everything you need is right here,” he says, pointing to himself as you squirm underneath him.

“the restroom isn’t! so let me go pee!”

[zapreportsblog]

*ahem* Yandere Alec & Jane x Reader

Think about it,

When Bella goes to save Edward from the Volturi, Reader comes along to make sure their older sister Bella goes home alive only to make first contact with Jane.

Jane would be the quiet yet protective Yandere type, meaning when Jane first felt the bond she instantly wants the Reader close to her.

As Jane tells Bella, Edward, Alice and Reader to follow her with Felix and Demitri behind them(of course Jane makes sure to hold on to the Readers wrist lightly but strong enough)

Soon the group is in the throne room, Alec soon feels the same type of bond just like Jane and looks at Reader with hungry eyes.

Alex is the type of yandere that gets jealous easily and just wants to keep the reader locked up in a room.

Soon both siblings are on each of the readers side being protective and clingy, holding onto their hand and arms for recurrence and security.

Of course the reader is not used to it and gets freaked out and tries to get close to their older sister Bella, Bella doing the same thing by trying to reach out to the reader.

But the reader gets pulled back from Bella and has been forced to stay by the Volturi and the siblings FOREVER.

Ah yes now you’re talking my love language, who doesn’t just love them an unhinged partner

❝forced to stay❞

✭ pairing : yandere jane volturi x reader x yandere alec volturi

✭ fandom : twilight x reader

✭ summary : the moment she made a contact with the twins she should’ve known that her fate was sealed 

✭ authors note : I don’t know what it is about having a unhinged partner, but I find it oddly romantic . Like for an example I have been dating my current boyfriend for almost a year now and only recently I would say a couple of months back. He told me that he was going to look up my location and come to my house after I did not respond to him for the first few days of us talking, we were not dating in the beginning, obviously so the fact that this man was going to somehow get access to my location whew gurl, this man got me down bad 

✭ twilight masterlist

The evening had settled in, casting long shadows as Bella Swan sat in her room, her thoughts consumed by worry for Edward. She had barely spoken to him since he left, and the emptiness was overwhelming. Just then, a light knock on her window startled her, and she turned to find Alice Cullen perched on the windowsill, her golden eyes filled with urgency.

"Bella," Alice began, her voice laced with concern, "we need to talk."

Bella's heart raced as she sat up straighter. "What is it, Alice?"

"It's Edward," Alice said, her voice steady yet grave. "He's planning to expose himself to humans—to reveal his true nature—in order to provoke the Volturi into killing him."

The words struck Bella like a physical blow. Her mind raced, unable to comprehend what she had just heard. "No, he can't be serious," Bella whispered, her voice trembling.

Alice's expression was somber. "He believes it's the only way to keep you and your family safe from the Volturi's attention."

Tears welled in Bella's eyes as the gravity of the situation settled in. "I have to stop him," she said, her voice determined.

Alice nodded in agreement. "I'm coming with you."

As Bella stood, her gaze locked onto the window, and she realized that someone else was listening. Turning, she saw her younger sister, (y/n), standing at the door, her expression a mix of concern and determination.

"(Y/n), what are you doing here?" Bella asked, surprised yet touched by her sister's presence.

"I heard everything," (y/n) replied, her voice steady. "And I'm coming too."

Bella's heart swelled with a mixture of pride and worry. "(Y/n), this is dangerous. I can't let you get involved."

(Y/n) stepped forward, her eyes unwavering. "Bella, you're my sister. I can't just sit back while you face this alone."

Alice's lips curled into a small smile. "She's right, Bella. We're all in this together."

Bella hesitated, torn between her protective instincts and the realization that her family's bond was unbreakable. Finally, she nodded. "Fine, you can come. But promise me you'll stay close and follow my lead."

(Y/n) nodded, determination gleaming in her eyes. "I promise."

With the decision made, the three of them exchanged a look that held a mixture of worry and resolve. The bond between sisters ran deep, and their determination to protect each other was unyielding.

As they stepped out of the house, ready to face the perilous journey ahead, Bella knew that no matter what challenges they encountered, they would face them together. The unbreakable bond between sisters would guide them through the darkness, giving them the strength to save the ones they loved, even if it meant facing the Volturi themselves.

As Bella, Alice, and (y/n) approached the Volturi chamber, a tense atmosphere hung in the air. Shadows danced across the walls, and the weight of their purpose settled heavily upon them. Just as they were about to enter, a trio of figures appeared, drawing their attention.

Jane, Demetri, and Felix materialized before them, their presence both unsettling and foreboding. (Y/n) sensed the intensity of the situation, her instincts on high alert. Her gaze locked with Jane's, and a strange shiver ran down her spine. Unbeknownst to her, Jane's connection to (y/n) ran deep, fueled by the intense bond of mates.

Demetri's voice cut through the air, his tone respectful yet firm. "The kings are awaiting your presence. Follow us."

Bella exchanged a wary glance with Alice, a silent acknowledgment of the gravity of the situation. With a nod, they followed Demetri and Felix, their steps echoing in the dimly lit corridor. The tension was palpable, and (y/n)'s heart raced as they moved closer to their destination.

As they entered the chamber, (y/n) felt a shiver run down her spine once more. The Volturi kings sat upon their thrones, exuding an air of authority and power. Aro, Caius, and Marcus regarded them with interest, their eyes glinting with curiosity as they took in the unexpected guests.

"(Y/n) Swan and Bella Swan," Aro's voice rang out, his tone laced with intrigue. "A pleasure to have you with us."

(Y/n)'s and her sister Bella’s eyes widened, taken aback by Aro's direct acknowledgment of her presence. They offered a tentative nod, voices momentarily caught in their throat.

“So tell me, why have you come here? Why do two humans and one vampire stand before us?” Aro questions obviously amused with the whole situation. 

As the conversation with the Volturi kings continued, (y/n) felt a strange sensation wash over her. The intensity of Alec's gaze upon her didn't go unnoticed. Unbeknownst to her, the same bond that had sparked between her and Jane had also formed with Alec, albeit with different implications.

Alec's eyes, hungry and possessive, trailed over (y/n) as if she were the only thing in the room. An invisible thread connected them, a connection that (y/n) couldn't comprehend. Her heart quickened under his gaze, an unfamiliar heat blooming within her.

As the conversation continued, (y/n) found herself shifting uncomfortably under the weight of Alec's gaze, a sense of unease settling in the pit of her stomach. Soon before she knew it Alec and Jane were standing before her, they clinged to her every being allowing no room for others to touch or even get near her.

Their presence was suffocating .

(Y/n)'s world had become a whirlwind of confusion and unease. She felt like a puppet, caught between the possessive affections of Alec and Jane on one side and the protective concern of Bella on the other. It was suffocating, overwhelming, and completely foreign to her.

As (y/n) attempted to navigate through the tense atmosphere, her heart rate quickened. Alec and Jane were by her side, their grip on her hand and arms feeling like a constant reminder of their presence. The clinginess and possessiveness made her uncomfortable, and she found herself longing for a moment of solitude.

Bella's attempts to reach out to her were a lifeline in this sea of intensity. She wanted to cling to her sister, the familiar bond between them offering a semblance of normalcy. But every time she tried to get closer to Bella, Alec and Jane would pull her back, their possessive gestures preventing her from seeking comfort in her older sister's arms.

Torn between the conflicting desires of those around her, (y/n) felt trapped. She wanted to be with Bella, to find solace in her sister's embrace, but Alec and Jane's hold on her was unyielding.

Then, the announcement from Marcus changed everything. His words echoed in the chamber, declaring that (y/n) was Alec and Jane's mate. The shock and realization of what that meant sent tremors through her. It was a bond she didn't understand, a connection that both terrified and intrigued her.

As the truth sank in, the weight of her circumstances settled on her shoulders. Aro, always the master manipulator, took advantage of the situation. He presented Bella and Alice with an unfair deal, Edward's life in exchange for (y/n)'s captivity among the Volturi.

The decision was left to (y/n), and despite the unease and discomfort, she found herself speaking up. "Agree to the deal," she told Bella and Alice, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her. "I'll be fine. You have to save Edward."

It was a sacrifice that she never thought she would have to make, but (y/n) was determined to protect her loved ones, no matter the cost. As the deal was settled, (y/n) felt a mixture of fear and determination coursing through her veins. Her life had taken an unexpected turn, and now she had to face an uncertain future, bound to two yandere vampires who held an inexplicable claim over her heart and soul.

[ajdahak]

♡ Character : Neteyam x reader

♡ Request : Could you write about neteyam dating a human s/o? How he adores her human features, especially the height difference. Same goes with the reader, she fascinates his little ears and idk but maybe how his tail wags around like a dog when he sees her ABSIDGJASD THAT SOUNDED WEIRD BUT BASICALLY ALL I WANT IS FLUFF 😭😭 Hopefully that makes sense 😅 @justcallmesky

♡ Genre : Fluff

♡ A/N : Heeyyy, sorry again if I take time to write, I try to do my best and be completely satisfied with my work before posting but it’s always difficult, I hope you like what I wrote. English is not the language I speak be indulgent please 🫶🏻

“Can…can I touch your face ?”

The sudden and hesitant request of Neteyam made you look up in his direction.

“You want…to touch my face ?”

You where looking at him with wide eyes, your finger pointing to yourself and mouth slowly agape. Feeling your eyes on him, Neteyam lowered his head, not wanting to show how embarrassed he was.

To be honest, you were rather surprised by his request. He had never asked you to touch your face, it was a simple request and yet you couldn't do anything about the fact that you were embarrassed. Apparently, he took your silence for a negative answer.

“I understand that you don’t want to. I just…Well…it’s been a while since we’ve been together and…I wondered…” He whispered so quietly, making you forgot for an instant about your insecurities. How could you say no to him?

You got up, crossing the room where there was air that you could breathe, you positioned yourself in front of the boy you loved. A smile appeared on his face.

“Of course you can. But why this request ?”

The eldest of the Sully family suddenly seemed embarrassed by this question, fleeing your gaze.

“It’s that..”

Slowly, his hand came into contact with your (h/c) hair, placing a lock at the back of your little ear. You didn’t let go of his eyes.

“Your eyes on me makes me nervous.”

“Oh, sorry! I-”

“No, don’t look away, that’s not what I meant. I like it when you look at me... I find your eyes beautiful.”

For him, your eyes contained in them a galaxy, your tears seemed to be pearled with stars, in any case, even if they seem beautiful in his thoughts, Neteyam will never let them flow.

You blush slightly at this remark, making the boy smile. This did not prevent you from speaking.

“Do you know what I like about you Nete ?” You asked, receiving only an eyebrow raise from him “What looks like freckles on your face.”

You pointed to the white dotted lines that used to light up in the dark.

“I find it beautiful, it’s like I was watching a starry night, but on a face” you laughed at the end of the sentence.

He smiled at your sweet laugh, looking at you with adoration. Your voice resounded like a sweet poem that would be told to children, surely this one in particular who cast a spell of love on him when you met him.

“Your ears are also very cute, it looks like a cat, but your tail reminds me of a dog” especially when you move it when you are happy, you thought for yourself.

“I have... no idea what it looks like.”

“Buuuttt.. I showed you pictures last time !”

Neteyam seemed embarrassed, not remembering it anymore.

“Ahh it’s okay, I’ll show you back another day.”

You put your hands on his cheeks that you loved so much, forcing him a little to lean forward so that you could see him better. When you directly threatened his personal space, the tip of his nose and ears began to heat up without permission, as if he were immersed in a cloud dream, softened by your delicacy. To have even more physical contact, the boy had to hold your hands with his own, caressing the top with his thumb, notifying how pleasant the fabric of your skin was.

“So, why did you want to touch my face ?” You asked again.

“I just wanted to feel the face of the women I love…” he replied, earning a smile from you.

“And do you like it ?”

You asked, surprising him.

“Of course ! Your face is as kind as your heart…” he said sincerely.

Seeing you smile with a radiance that even the sun would wear glasses, the Na’vi smiled in turn, so much his happiness could be felt that one could believe that his teeth emitted light. He let you get closer to his face, everything was going so fast that he did not hit the moment, and here he is with a kiss on the nose of the girl he loves.

“Do you know what I prefer most about you (y/n) ?”

You shook your head negatively, confused. He moistened his lips, and then observed yours. His fingers slipped to your chin, as if they were trying to find their way on your face, which was an enigma on its own. A small gesture of hesitation was understood on his head, then, a gentle pressure from his hand brought your two faces closer, attracting them dangerously.

The contact of your lips was soft, similar to that of the look that could be worn on the moon. With the joints joined, the kiss was no longer than the duration of the shooting star, and like the shooting stars, it offered him an incredible feeling of luck.

“Everything in you seems straight out of a dream. Nga yawne lu oer.”

[pinkandgoldensoul]

MV#1 || Domestic Silence || tape a

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: ̗̀➛ tape a of the 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝑒𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒹 series If this is your first time here on this blog, please check the Disclaimers here.

pairing: max verstappen x female!reader genre: established relationship, angst, fluff and comfort !tw!: swearing, mention of s*x without any description of it word count: 6.6k plot: drinking your disconnection from the world away, you forget your diary next to your glass of wine. Max can't help but read: what have you been hiding behind those lost and distant stares?

«I’m home!» Max locked the front door and sighed, tiredness nestling inside his bones, shoulders finally falling in relaxation. He had attended a dinner downtown with Horner, Marko and some representatives of a new sponsor willing to ride the wave of success at Red Bull. Because of the business-driven and extremely formal setting, Max had thought it would be better if you didn’t come along with him, since he knew how boring dinners like these could turn and how much you had grown to despise them, through your father’s work. Plus, throughout the night, he would be able to hold onto your thought, wondering what you were doing instead, and anticipating the moment he would reach you.

He turned around and followed the dim light of the living room, unconsciously switching on the light when he halted at the door frame. You were sat down on the floor, hands slowly brushing the rug until you would lose sensitivity and a soft burn would cover your skin. You clung onto that feeling as an anchor to the world, as a sign you were physically present, licking your lips drenched in wine. It had started like every other night: you had come home, opened the cabinet where you would usually store bottles and grabbed a glass, drinking to unplug, to disconnect from yourself and let the alcohol flow until a pleasant numbness would enclose your senses. Still, now you desperately wanted to escape your thoughts and embrace feeling once again. You weakly smiled when you noticed his standing figure. «Welcome home.» you said, looking around you. Leaning onto the glass coffee table of the living room, you clumsily placed your wet fingers on your spread-open diary, wrinkling the once smooth, yellowish paper soaked in with ink and words. There was no sweeter pleasure than jotting down a flow of consciousness without fully being yourself: you may cry, twist your face in pain, laugh and whine in frustration, but always perceiving the warm buzz of alcohol softening feelings’ sharp edges and blossoming on your cheeks. Any time you decided to use wine as your socially acceptable but private emotional outlet, your diary was always beside you.

Max stirred a smile, quickly eyeing all the cues of the room and piecing them together. «Seems like I’ve missed a fun party.» he joked, raising the bottle of wine you had opened. «You can join now!» you brought up your glass as an invitation. «Don’t tempt me, it’s time to go to sleep.» He crouched down, studying the lost look your eyes threw at him. Max found your drunk ways teasingly cute, too much for him to bear without smiling and feeling the most endearing swell in the middle of his chest. «Let’s get up.» He took your hands and quickly lifted you up, with such a force you bumped inside his arms, holding onto him, scared you could fall back down. «I’m tired…» you slurred. Max wiped your cheek while checking whether you were wearing makeup he would remove, happy to see your skin was bare. «We’re going to bed, don’t worry.»

Going back to the living room, he got near the coffee table and reached out to the bottle to put it away, but his eyes inevitably fell on your diary: he then let the glass bump against glass, enamored with your calligraphy. He stared at it long enough to acknowledge his curiosity and be taken over by it; he grabbed it and sat down on the couch in religious silence, afraid to break the spell of violation. He took in hand the glass of wine you had left still full and got comfortable, in search of peace after a consuming night spent condescending sponsors.

In the dark lit room, your eyes got used to the long gray shadows forming onto the rug beneath your thighs. You felt nothing but loneliness. With the lights off, it almost seemed like you were utterly alone on earth. The diary spread open, you were only able to write the same old shit every entry, because nothing has really changed: you still poured wine down your throat in search of disconnection, in search of peace, hoping it would help, knowing it wouldn’t. You didn’t know anything anymore. Every time you had tried to talk to Max about your feelings, words disappeared or got lost between your teeth, like you had never experienced or felt those things, so nothing was meant to be said. Max had shared anything with you, and you had too, for a while: but then something had inevitably shifted. Something had turned off, inside of you. Inside a bubble, you could only witness Max’s happiness without feeling included, him thinking he was living the same fairytale with you. How fucking miserable did you have to be? Getting drunk on the floor all by yourself, waiting for your boyfriend in the darkness, not able to be honest with him? What kind of future would your relationship have if you had completely lost the ability to connect with him, if you wouldn’t trust him?

Max’s brain shut off, slowly internalizing those words. He flipped some of the previous pages, reading the entries’ dates, surprised to find that many, completely unaware of your secret emotional life.

Throughout the dinner, gazing down his feet, he had anticipated the sweet scent of your shampoo he so dearly loved whenever he would press his lips onto your nape, the pearly white of your teeth blinding him with a smile, the velvet caress of your fingertips upon his skin. He felt a particular type of comfort in coming back home, in your apartment, and dismissing his front to embrace his full range of emotions, exploring them with you and being intimate. After years of gray, turning off the volume of his soul not to feel hurt, not to feel fear, not to feel anger, not to feel regret, after falling in love with you he had begun acknowledging his own feelings more, carefully unveiling them, allowing himself to experience them, in a safe environment. What had made it safe in the first place was you being honest and vulnerable as well. Max had perceived a subtle shift, which he considered effect of time, of habit. You seemed more closed off, but he had always known you were more onto the introverted side of the spectrum: he would have never imagined something deeper would be at the route. But now he needed to dig deeper; he needed to know.

He quickly reached the first page, written in a hurry, full of whirls and small spots of ink.

You hadn’t paid attention to the dress you had chosen for the night; you had been in a rush, since you had completely forgotten about the dinner your father was having, though he had profusely talked it out to you.

«It’s an important occasion, so I’d like you to be there with me.» «What is it? Boring investors?». «No, this time I am the investor. We’re hosting Christian Horner, do you remember him?» «Oh, yeah, I do. The energy drinkers.» Your dad deeply inhaled. «They’re… not, I’ve told you, they are running one of the most successful teams in motorsport.» «So… Are you trying to get on board and get a slice of success too? Bet they’re already packed with sponsors, if that’s the case.» «My investments and my plans for the future were compelling enough to persuade Red Bull’s team principal to hear about them even more as my guest, so I earned my slice with hard work. That’s real success, y/n.»

You had welcomed Horner and the small group of people accompanying him at the door; you had guided them through the glamourous hall of your family’s villa and reached the dining room with indifference; it was usual for you, an oiled ritual of circumstance smiles and premeditated words, calibrated. All predictable, except for the man who entered the room for last. A blue blazer, the shiniest white shirt and the most polished, neat and fine features you had ever seen in a human being. Ethereal, unreal, he adjusted the cuffs of his shirt, hypnotizing your poor and lost eyes with such an insignificant gesture. «Y/n, I’m glad to introduce you to the best driver of the sport and the current world champion, Max Verstappen.» You completely neglected Horner’s words being directed towards you, as your attention was completely drawn to the enchanting eyes of that silent and unreadable creature, visibly contracted in attending such a formal event, yet relaxed and laid down. «Nice to meet you.» In a single second, your entire insensitive and confident façade had broken in pieces and let the sea of doubt water your thoughts: his polite manners made you feel inadequate and out of place, made you question everything about the way you looked, the way the dress fit, your choice of words, the judgement he had already formed about you. You had stopped being a lonely planet; you had entered his orb and started gravitating around him. «The dining room is this way.» you quietly breathed out, turning around and guiding them.

Anytime you were about to stuff a bite in your mouth or filled your glass, anytime you moved from your unfazed stillness, you felt a burning stare upon you, an unconditioned reflex of Max tracking you, scared to lose sight of you, curious about your gestures, and the burning would soon turn into ice blue whenever you crossed eyes. Studying each other from across the table, it was easy to stumble by chance on Max in the majestic balcony reserved for the guests to admire the garden your father had designed; it was easy to start a conversation, champagne in hand, and offer him a tour of your life wandering in the silent nature; it was easy to listen to his anecdotes and stories, hanging off his smiling lips, and it was definitely impossible not to rapidly fall in love with his charm, his unique humor, his both delicate and sharp ways, as he asked you to join him for a ride on his sportive car. Running away from business and obligations, on board with a stranger, you had never felt freer and safer in your whole life.

Sardinia’s sun was just about to rise, a deep red disc painting the clouds orange, rippling the slow waves with gold. Enchanted by the view, taking in the heavenly peace of the moment, you leaned your head against Max’s shoulder, who was sitting next to you. He had invited you on his yacht, giving you the chance to live an Italian summer in his company, and he had demanded you’d see the sunrise with him. Getting up early had definitely been worth it. Wrapped by the same beach towel, you had whispered a conversation waiting for the sky show, enamored with the calm setting: nobody was around when you arrived at the dock and had sailed unseen. Your cheek still pressed on his warm skin, you wondered how you had managed to be so lucky and get to spend precious time with such a precious person. You and Max weren’t official yet, but you both knew you weren’t simply engaging in a platonic relationship, and that had been clear since the beginning. Though, you were walking one step at a time, without rushing into things, taking time to savor every milestone, as if you both had a limitless amount of time ahead of you which you were sure to spend together.

#

The sun now burned bright and the sea had acquired its naturally bluish tint, speckled with white, luminous splinters of light. Coming back to your deck chair with a tube of sunscreen, you sat down and squeezed the plastic envelope to put some on and avoid a sunburn. «Do you want me to put it on your back?» «Oh, no, thanks! I can manage!» you said, patting a handful of cream behind your neck. Max looked at you, exhilarated, as you tried to reach with your fingertips your upper back, without great results. «Uhm… Maybe I could use some help…» Max shook his head in fake disapproval and sat behind you, carefully taking the tube away from your grab. «You gave up pretty fast.» he chuckled. «Just admit you wanted me to put suncream on you as soon as you walked on the deck.» Enjoying his gentle hands massaging and distributing the cream, you stuttered at his words. «What? No way. You were the one who was dying to and immediately offered help. You’re down for me so bad…» Max stopped his motions, leaving you hanging while he grabbed new cream upon his fingers, and surprised you both with the cold texture hitting your back and his reply. «You don’t need any more suncream, but you still haven’t stopped me and neither have you complained about it, so you must be down bad for me as well.» You both smiled without letting the other see it. That type of teasing had been going on for a few weeks already, and the small banters always ended with a silent, omitted, shared conclusion: you were in love with each other. It lingered in the air, but none of you had said it out loud yet. Letting Max’s arms encircle your shoulders while he leaned back into the deck chair taking you down onto his chest, softness dug into your heart: lost in the middle of the sea, cuddling together, kissed by the sun, nothing seemed as perfect. «I think I love you.» you whispered, hiding your flushed face against his arm. Max’s joyful giggle, paired with the quick peck he left on your cheek, made your heart flip around. «I love you too, silly! Thank God you said it, I couldn’t go on much more with this urge.» «Urge?» you asked. «Yes. The urge to say it. I’ve been thinking about it for a while.» he gazed in the distance. «Why did you wait then?» «Because I wanted to hear it from you first.» «You’re such a tease…» «And that’s why you love me, right?» You wished you could say he was wrong without shamelessly lying. After all, his carefree-self had brought a peace and gust of youth you would never give up on; the way Max was able to hit every soft spot amazed you, scared you, charmed you.

It never felt right. Every time you heard your father speaking through the phone, addressing you with confidence and composure, perfectly measured, you were never able to understand where his voice came from. You knew it wasn’t him. You knew it couldn’t be. Maybe you had only imagined the words he had reserved for you in the past; they weren’t actually directed at you, they were never spitted out between your dad’s teeth in the outraged tone you remembered, they were never accompanied by his accusing pointer finger. Maybe it had always been a dream, an illusion. He had asked you once again to attend a gala, sure you would eventually give in to his persistence, and counting on the fact you would follow in his businessman footsteps. You had turned down the invitation without hesitation, to his dismay and surprise. He had tried to talk it out with you on the phone, only aggravating the situation, insensitive to your choice, until you had mentioned you weren’t feeling quite good physically. Who would ever want a pale, bored out daughter sitting at the table next to prestigious colleagues? He had dropped the topic right as you excused yourself and demanded you to rest and recover.

A foot pushing down the cushions of the couch, one cheek resting onto your brought-up knee, you heard the shuffling noise of metal clashing against metal, a distant signal Max had come back home. «Thanks for helping me with the bags, y/n, always so attentive.» he joked, speaking from the kitchen. «Y/n?» His steps were inaudible, but his presence was clear to you the second he approached the door. There was no need to talk or prompt any more questions: Max acknowledged your silence with patience, carefully taking a seat next to you. He stared at you with softness, and you wished you could dare to look at him, but your eyes were lost in a point ahead of you. As soon as his fingers brushed your skin to put a strand of hair behind your hair, tender, in an uncontrolled reaction, you felt the need to justify your behavior. «Dad.» you whispered. «It’s okay.» he kept brushing locks of hair upon the first one. «We don’t have to talk about it.» Lulled by the repetitive movements, you were, though, totally unresponsive to them, both physically and emotionally. You could see your hair lightly dancing on your shoulder as he put it in place, but you felt trapped inside a glass bell. «…be alright. You know that?» Max’s question dropped in silence. It was rhetorical, but he expected some sort of reaction from you. Your eyes dodged him, none of your muscles moved under his fingertips. He had never seen you so distant. He carefully placed his hand on the side of your head and pulled you close to his chest, getting comfortable on the couch. If he couldn’t get you to talk, at least he would cuddle you until you fell asleep inside his arms, amongst small kisses to your temple and caresses. And it worked. He felt your cheeks gradually warming, blossoming in red life, your body slightly shifting in the embrace. A lump of words was stuck in your throat, but you wanted to say something to Max. You wanted to at least try describing the veil that had you trapped in numbness. «Max…» you groaned. He simply hummed, listening. Every word faltered as you began summoning them and you were left with the only comfortable ones, residues of your intentions. «I love you.» Max’s arms couldn’t help but tighten the grab in affection, while his lips sealed the gesture on the top of your head. «I love you too, y/n.»

Your dad never really understood that you hadn’t become Max’s girlfriend as an excellent entrepreneur choice, tying your surname to his and therefore strengthening a contract the two of you had no interest in. He would never understand what love felt like.

Max had anticipated a couple of scenarios as he entered the house party with his arm draped around your waist: he had imagined the two of you dancing together until dawn, drunk of joy for yet another race win; colorful shadows adorning your face in the dark of the floor, sure you would stand out and shine of light to his eyes; giggling as idiots while coming back home holding each other. He hadn’t anticipated the one he was in. Head buzzing, Max searched for your scent, for your clothes, for your hair, for your eyes through the packed venue, incapable of relief as you seemed to have disappeared without warning. He had already asked everybody about you, to no avail; he had checked the restroom at the ground floor, he had even waited for people to come out to see if you had simply gone to the bathroom, but you were nowhere to be found. Max’s head was starting to spin. Flinging his head in every direction to search for you clearly wasn’t helping.

He adventured upstairs and, annoyingly enough, it was quite easy to find you: one of the guestroom’s doors was open enough for him to recognize your shoes hanging off the bed. Max immediately pushed the knob and was inevitably left confused by what he saw. You were laying down on the white duvet, staring at the ceiling, without moving a muscle. «Y/n, what are you doing?» Max asked, swallowing as his head pulsed in pain. Instead of answering, a faint breath escaped your lips, and the shadow of a smile appeared on them. «Am I floating?» «Sorry?» Max kneeled down near the bed, in order to hear your mumbles. «Am I floating?» He got lost in the silence that followed, digging in your enlarged pupils, incapable of making sense of the soft words you muttered between unexplainable giggles. «I’m floating alone, Max. Look at me.» «Y/n, you’re…» On a bed, that’s what Max wanted to say; but his words died as soon as tears were springing from the corner of your eyes, crossing your temple. His eyebrows clashed in confusion and alarm, but your deaf laugh, concealing your sobs, worried him even more. «Are you okay? Y/n, what’s wrong?» The lightweight of his thumb swiping your tears came softened to your senses. «I can’t feel it…» «What are you talking about?» Max said, massaging his aching forehead in order to soothe his headache. «I can’t feel it, Max.» «What’s the matter? What aren’t you feeling?» The surrendered and pleading tone he addressed you with broke every wall. «I can’t feel anything.» It was a whisper, but Max didn’t let it slide easily: it played in his mind non-stop, incessant, oppressive, so hard to process it ran him mad. And the only reaction offered after an unmanageable and incomprehensible statement was frustration. «C’mon, let’s go home.» Your teary eyes looked at him for the first time since he had stepped into the room, left confused by the collected order. «Let’s go home, y/n.» he tried to persuade you with a calmer tone this time, gently helping you up into a sitting position. To be honest, you were too shit faced to even properly stand on your own, let alone walk out the house on your feet without Max’s help. His arms felt so warm and secure around you to the point you couldn’t help but scoff a smile while sniffing, going downstairs. And when his hands abandoned your body, you felt lost, like a kid at the store who can’t see her parents anymore around the countless shelves, scared of the unknown faces. «Give me a second and we’ll leave, okay? One second, I’ll be back.»

Max stormed into the large kitchen, now almost emptied due to the intense dancing happening in the living room: that only made his objective easier to accomplish. In a few strides, Max reached the counters and rummaged through the bottles, opened and closed the cabinets in furious motions, quickly scattering glass left and right, before turning towards the poor barman called for the evening and spitting out word of fire against him. «What the fuck did you give to my girlfriend?» He was desperately trying not to leash out on that young boy, visibly terrified at his accusation, but the trail of gin tonics he had downed throughout the night wouldn’t offer much help. «I-I don’t even know who she is…» the bartender answered, shaking. «Don’t fuck with me, you saw us here before the party even started.» Max got closer, boring his eyes into the man’s frightened ones. «She… She came here once and- and she asked if we had red wine, but I told her there wasn’t any.» «You didn’t pour for her any fancy high alcohol content shit you motherfuckers always hide, right?» «No, no, I swear! You can check anywhere, if you want!» «I’ve got no time to waste with you, dude.» Max snorted and shook his head as he walked off the kitchen and frantically searched for you; luckily, he immediately spotted you right where he had left you, lost, by the stairs. Only approaching you and feeling your tender hands gripping his forearms tight, glancing at him with glistening eyes, Max felt his heart cave and hurt for your state. «Can we please go home?» you asked with trembling voice. Max engulfed you in a hug and left a kiss on the side of your head, caressing your back while you quietly sobbed against his chest. «Yes. We’re going home.»

Max loved being invited to your father’s dinner nights. It wasn’t for his presence, of course: he actually quite despised the annoyed and avoidant look in your eyes, attributable to him. Max didn’t even fall in love with the spectacular mansion your dad would flaunt in front of his clients and partners, finely adorned with the most kitsch style he had witnessed in his life. Your dad’s cars could be appealing to him, though, but the collection definitely wasn’t what he enjoyed the most. If there was anything that those nights could provide the both of you with and that no other circumstance would ever top, it was the intense and inevitable sensual attraction building up throughout the evening between the two of you. The rapid glances thrown at each other, him knowing you couldn’t wait to run away from the set table, you buying into his unnoticeable smirks were the first signals of on-going teasing; then you would both unconsciously filling your glasses a bit more often, drinking smiles and desires away, before the two of you would excuses yourselves early and rush down the hall, under the disappointed but not surprised glance of your father, not leaving the house until you had released a bit of yearning with a sloppy kiss against the car door.

There was an unexplainable thrill coursing through Max’s fingers gripping the steering wheel in speeding back home, anticipating the sweetest ending to the night, breaths overlaying and filling up the car with tension, interrupted by your faint requests of slowing down. He knew none of you wanted the ride to last any second longer. And every time he would receive confirmation by the way you both assaulted each other’s lips as soon as the door clicked open, shutting down any other thought or worry. It was only you and him.

#

The teasing had grown unbearable for you that night. Not even being able to savor Max’s touch inside the walls of your cozy apartment could relieve your desire, always begging him to lean closer, to kiss deeper, to give you more of his undivided attention. «Please, Max…» you pleaded in-between the messy kiss. «I need you so bad.» Max was quick to reach behind your back and pull down the zip of your dress, covering every centimeter of the bare skin just exposed with the gesture right as it was displayed before his eager eyes. Fingers running through the locks of his hair, you had never seen him so passionate and utterly dedicated to pleasuring you as much as he could, never stopping the trail of open-mouthed kisses under your collarbone, slowly shifting down to your chest, tantalizing, taking his time. Quiet whines escaped your lips, fruit of dissatisfaction, obliging Max to lift his eyes up and address your unexpected behavior. «Am I doing something wrong?» The uncertainty in his words pained you enough to close the gap and warm his chest with a passionate kiss, while you desperately tried to shake off the feeling of restlessness tingling your body. You could see Max was doing everything just right; his hands were all over you, as much as his plump lips, as much as his eyes searching for your reaction to his touch. You were his only worry, his only care. But you couldn’t feel it. It was too late when you felt yourself slip away and look at the scene from above, over your head, in a timeless space, as an outsider, not in charge of your limbs anymore. You knew your hands were touching him, and that you were supposed to brush his fine strands of hair, the ones you’d get lost staring at while cuddling, but you were met with a stone-cold insensitivity. And every time Max whispered some sort of reassurance – “Do you like it, baby?” – or boldly murmured under his breath an “I’m going to make you feel good”, you gripped him tighter, you held him closer, without getting to be awarded by the warmth of his embrace which you were desperately seeking for. «Max…» There was no way you could prevent your voice from pleading, almost veiled with fear, since the idea of not feeling close to you the person you loved the most made you bare and naked, a shivering mess before the terrifying thought of loneliness. He slowly halted his movements, hovering his head upon yours, sweetly looking down at your furrowed brows. «I’m here.» His hot breath fanned on the crook of your neck, on which he left peppering kisses all over, trailing back down where he was, and you were left with a boiling lake of feelings both blooming in your stomach and in the middle of your chest, overwhelming.

Making love to him, you cried for the first time in front of him after months; he cradled you so softly, wiping tears away from your face pressed against his arm, as you plastered a kiss on it. He didn’t ask you anything, even though he had tried to stop as soon as he had noticed. Your hands pressing him back onto you, your lips whimpering and begging him to carry on had nurtured a caretaking love for you, tender, fragile, vulnerable, but uniquely crafted. It was only natural for the both of you to breathe out “I love you”s against each other’s skin right as you got off, resting tangled up, tired but satisfied, incapable of depriving yourselves of the warm touch. Finding peace staring at his flushed cheeks and at the blondish curve of his eyelashes, you bittersweetly came to terms with the fact that Max was the only one able to drag you out of numbness, lulling you into consciousness, wishing you would feel instead of wanting to drown out the world. And you had never been more scared in your life. There was no such a risk as not being able to perceive his touch, his painfully gentle caresses, his delightful kisses. His undying love. Cupping his cheek, you let another tear cross yours. He was tired, and you had neglected his feelings for a while. You wondered how he was capable of handling everything so well, perfectly dealing with being a Formula One world champion, an amazing partner, a beautiful human being. Compared to him, you felt miserable. Yet, you couldn’t help but wish he’d never notice, so that you could share that love a couple minutes more, nestled against him, completely safe within his hug.

The water was lukewarm. You wished it still emanated the boiling heat which comforted your soul and distended all your muscles, but you had been sitting still inside the bathtub for long enough to let it cool down. The soap had stopped plopping in bubbles, merged down the water, tinting it whitish. You had run the bath to relax, but tiredness weighed your limbs, resting on the ceramic as if rocks tied them down. Your eyes felt heavy. Nothing in your headspace. Nothing. Peace. «Nah, sorry, I’m not coming.» Max. You heard him talking on the phone. «… No, I’m not a child, you know?» You slowly stirred your fingers in the water, you shifted in your sitting position. «We talked about this already, I told you I’m busy.» Your knees buckled up, pressed against one another, with your palms resting upon them. «So what? If you have a problem with it, it’s your business, not mine.» Listening carefully to the conversation, you began running your soapery hands up and down your arms, rubbing your legs, your nape, your shoulders, ‘til a veil of pink showed through, beneath the bubbles. «I really don’t get what’s the point of this. What’s your problem?» Intensive rubbing needs rinsing: you dived down the water, hiding from chaos, refusing to listen to those words wakening rivulets of unwelcome memories. Lulled by the water, you tried to ignore the knot in your throat, the pressure of your father’s voice pulsing in your head like a drill, your lungs longing for air.

I wish you were a better daughter

A small slip of your brain, and water was crawling inside your nose, falling down your throat. Your hands frantically searched for the edge of the bathtub, gripping it as best as the wet skin could allow, propping you up with an abrupt motion which rocked the water in a violent wave. You coughed uncontrollably, immediately spitting the hate, the sorrow, the fear with the water you had inhaled. But how could you get rid of the fear at the bottom of your lungs, of the disgust at the pit of your stomach? «You okay?» Max knocked at the door. Trying to answer him, you kept coughing.

I didn’t have a kid to have her living at my expenses until I die

You dug your nails in your skin, leaned your forehead between your joined knees. Would you ever grow out of that nightmare? Would you ever live your life with your father completely out of the picture? «I’m coming in.» Why did he warn you? Why did he have to be so sickly respectful of you in any given circumstance? Why hadn’t you met him earlier? «Did you breathe water in?» He ran a hand on your wet hair, caressing it with care as you finally stopped coughing. You simply nodded, head still buried down. «Did you get scared?» You then finally looked at him. How on earth such a lovely and tender human being could blossom from such a traumatic upbringing? A little voice inside of you urged to answer “Yes, I did”: every time your dad had raised his voice against you, every time you had seen disapproval in his stare, every time you had hidden behind the wooden door of your room. You had lived in fear. And it was so difficult to experience such a pure and delicate love after hurt. «Do you want me to rinse your hair with the shower head? It’s still full of soap.» No parts of you opposed his hands moving your shoulders towards his side of the bathtub, so that he could properly see your scalp, while he rinsed off the white dust of memories from your head.

You had seen the day spiraling right as you had started it. Missed the flight, almost lost your luggage, failed to find the address of the hotel and had to ask Max, busy with media duties, to pick you up. Seeing him drop 16th in qualifying for mechanical issues caused during free practice was the last straw of a bad day. «I told them to check everything and still we had the same fucking issue! I fucking knew it! They were all joking and laughing when I entered the box at the beginning of Q1 and nobody did what they’re paid to do!» Max furiously paced up and down the preparation room, in which he had locked the two of you, trying to calm down. «Maybe they didn’t expect the damage to be that serious, since they haven’t had a lot of time to verify…» He dead stopped, looking at you with mad eyes. «I DON’T GIVE A FUCK, y/n! It’s their damn job! Why the fuck are you defending them?!» You swallowed hard, fingers opening and closing uncontrolled. It was the first time you had seen him getting furious and taking it out on you, something you clearly weren’t ready to face yet. A fire trail of words grew in your chest, fueled by an unknown rage, combined to the uncontrollable twitching of your chin. «Don’t ever talk to me like that again.» you whispered. Max, who had got back to walking back and forth passing a hand through his hair in frustration, turned towards you, taken by surprise. «Don’t ever yell at me again, understood?! I-I’m not someone who’s going to tolerate being screamed at! I’m not that type of person!» Coming down from his adrenaline high, Max’s brows clashed in a soft and regretful expression, slowly getting closer to you. «I would never withstand this kind of treatment, okay?!» His arms engulfed you in a hug full of sorry’s and exasperation, which you held on to. «I’m not weak!» you cried out. Max looked at you, eyes brimming in sadness, and carefully dried tears you didn’t know had been running down your skin. «You’ve been nice to me all day and I disrespected you in return… That was shitty of me. I’m sorry, I’m just- You didn’t deserve this. Nobody does.» Vanished. Your bravery was thrown to the wind by those simple words. Your fears, your anxiety all torn apart like scrap paper: Max transmuted every demon into a beautiful origami, solved, nicely crafted, snatched from chaos. Max pressed a kiss on your cheek and stared at you. «I’m cancelling any plan tonight so that we can stay together, if you’d like to, of course.» An involuntary smile bloomed on your lips. «As if I’d ever decline.»

Max, despite the effort, couldn’t stray his eyes away from the page. A myriad of questions, doubts and sad truths had invested him and dragged his body down towards the couch, paralyzing him. You didn’t like talking about your dad and he had always respected your choice, since the same went for him; but he had never imagined something deeper, something he both didn’t and did want to know more about was boiling beneath the surface. The thought you had been treated poorly as a daughter made him sick. «Max, can you come cuddle? I can’t sleep without-» He tilted his head towards your sleepy self, who had just walked in on him reading your diary comfortably sat in the living room, undisturbed. Clarity of mind lost in the drinking session of the evening, you bursted crying as soon as Max got up from the sofa and approached you with sorrow painted in his eyes. You didn’t know what he had read, but it was almost as if you did. His reaction was the biggest clue you could be ever given. «You no longer need to deal with him alone.» he planted a kiss on the side of your head. «We’ll face him together.» «I don’t want to face him…» you sobbed, grabbing his shirt tighter. «I’d like to never see him again.» «You don’t owe him a single thing, y/n. Financially providing for you was a duty, not something he can blackmail you with and make you feel guilty about.» Max said, placing a strand of your hair behind your ear. «I promise we’ll have a beautiful life and I’ll help you forget about him. You deserve so much better…» You leaned your wet cheek on his hand cupping your face, carved up by the love you felt for him. «I thought I couldn’t love you more.» you managed to say. Max captured your lips in a quick kiss, born from a raptus of affection he didn’t stop. «Let me love you like you do, then.»

Finally hereeeeeeee! Thanks for waiting with patience, as always! Huge props and a love shower (?) to whoever will leave a note of feedback ♥ You have no idea how much I appreciate those who do! ♥

If you haven't already, you can check tape b of this series here! Otherwise...

✧ ˚ · . Wish you a blissful day . · ˚✧

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[elryuse]

Yandere Gaeul x male reader

SNAP!

YANDERE GAEUL X MALE READER

Y/n gripped Gaeul's hand tightly, his knuckles white. The sterile hospital room smelled faintly of disinfectant, a stark contrast to the vibrant perfume that used to cling to her. The car crash had taken more than just her mobility, it had stolen the bubbly, energetic Gaeul he knew and loved.

"Don't worry," Y/n murmured, his voice rough with suppressed emotion. "We'll get through this together. You'll be back on stage, dazzling everyone again."

Gaeul's gaze, once playful and sparkling, was now a dull echo of its former self. A faint tremor ran through her hand, the only response she gave. Despair gnawed at Y/n. The doctors had been brutally honest; the nerve damage was extensive, dancing an uncertain future before them.

Days turned into weeks, then months. Y/n became Gaeul's constant companion, a rock amidst the storm raging within her. He spoon-fed her, helped her with physical therapy, and listened to her tirades of frustration. Slowly, a flicker of the old Gaeul reappeared, but it was laced with a bitterness that made his heart ache.

One evening, as Y/n helped her into bed, Gaeul's hand snaked around his wrist, her grip surprisingly strong. "Stay," she rasped, her voice a mere whisper.

Fear, a cold, slithering thing, coiled in Y/n's gut. The playful spark in her eyes had been replaced by a dark intensity that sent chills down his spine. He forced a smile, "I can't stay all night, Gaeul. You need your rest."

But her grip only tightened. "No," she hissed, her voice gaining strength. "Don't leave me. You can't leave me now."

Y/n tried to reason with her, but her words were laced with a possessiveness that terrified him. He knew then, with a sickening certainty, that the crash had shattered not just her body, but her mind too.

The tipping point came a week later. Y/n, his own life put on hold, had finally managed to secure a freelance writing job. As he excitedly shared the news with Gaeul, a terrifying transformation unfolded before his eyes.

Her face contorted in rage. "A job? What about me? Who will take care of me? You can't just abandon me now!"

Y/n tried to calm her down, explaining that he needed to work, to build a future for them both. But his words were drowned out by her hysterical screams. It was then he saw it – a glint of steel in her hand, a pair of medical scissors glinting under the bedside lamp.

He backed away, fear paralyzing him. "Gaeul, what are you doing?"

But she was beyond reason, her manic eyes locked on him. "You won't leave me," she shrieked, her voice a chilling parody of their former love songs. "You'll stay with me, forever."

Y/n scrambled back, escaping just as the scissors slashed through the air. The memory of that night haunted him even after he finally managed to leave. The guilt of abandoning her warred with the terror of staying.

Months passed. He moved on, tentatively building a new life, a life without Gaeul. Then, one sunny afternoon, as he strolled hand-in-hand with his new girlfriend, a black pickup truck screeched to a halt next to them.

His heart lurched. He knew, with a chilling certainty, who it was before he even saw her. Gaeul, her face a mask of cold fury, emerged from the truck. Her once vibrant eyes gleamed with a psychotic glint.

"There you are," she purred, her voice devoid of warmth. "I finally found you."

A scream tore from his girlfriend's throat as Gaeul lunged. The world dissolved into chaos. Y/n watched in horror as the woman he loved, twisted by obsession and fueled by madness, took his new happiness away, just as she intended to take everything else.

Gaeul knelt beside him, the cloying scent of her old perfume mixed with the metallic tang of blood now a permanent memory. Her smile, devoid of love, sent shivers down his spine.

"Now," she purred, her voice a chilling whisper, "We'll be forever together".

Y/n's world shrunk to the terrifying reality he now faced. He was trapped, forever bound to a love that had morphed into a monstrous obsession, leaving him with a future as bleak and horrifying as the glint in Gaeul's eyes.

The wedding bells seemed to mock Y/n as he stood stiffly at the altar. The sterile hospital room, the memory of a life stolen, felt a lifetime ago. Gaeul, resplendent in a white gown, beamed a manic smile that sent chills down his spine. Every saccharine vow felt like a knife twisting in his gut. Her possessive hand tightened around his, the diamond ring a cruel reminder of the freedom he'd lost.

The "honeymoon" was a twisted parody of romance. Gaeul clung to him with desperate intensity, her every touch laced with paranoia. Gone were the playful moments, replaced by a suffocating possessiveness. She monitored his every move, his phone calls screened, his emails checked. The world outside their gilded cage was slowly cut off.

Y/n became a prisoner in his own life. He missed the way Gaeul used to smell, a vibrant mix of perfume and backstage dust. He missed the easy laughter they once shared, the way she used to light up a room just by walking in. But voicing any discontent was met with icy glares and veiled threats. He saw a glimpse of the old Gaeul once, a flicker of sadness in her eyes as she watched a couple strolling hand-in-hand on TV. But it was fleeting, swallowed by the monster her obsession had become.

Months bled into years. Gaeul's career skyrocketed, fueled by the dark energy that coursed through her. Y/n, a ghost in her perfect life, became known as "the supportive husband," a carefully crafted image for public consumption. In the dead of night, she'd wake him up in a cold sweat, accusing him of infidelity with fabricated women. Each night, he died a little inside.

One day, a news report sent a jolt through the carefully constructed facade. A forgotten photo of a vibrant Gaeul, before the crash, flashed across the screen. The caption read: "Gaeul's mysterious past: Who was the man by her side?"

Gaeul, the picture of a concerned friend, visited the network demanding the photo's removal. Y/n, watching the news with a detached curiosity, felt a strange tug in his chest. Something about the photo, the way Gaeul's smile seemed genuine… it sparked a faint memory, a feeling he couldn't quite grasp.

Later that night, Gaeul, eyes blazing with murderous intent, stood before him. "You saw it, didn't you?" she snarled.

Fear choked Y/n's voice. "G-gaeul, I swear…"

"Don't lie!" she shrieked, brandishing a vial filled with a clear liquid. "This will take care of those pesky memories."

He watched in horror as she forced the liquid down his throat. The world spun, his thoughts dissolving into a hazy fog. The next morning, he woke up with a blank slate, the past a blurry mess. Gaeul cradled his face, her smile triumphant.

"Now," she whispered, "you'll only remember me. We can finally be happy, forever."

Y/n looked back at her, a stranger in a familiar face. He smiled, a hollow echo of his former self. Gaeul, her twisted love a twisted victory, had finally won. But in the vacant depths of his eyes, a single tear rolled down his cheek, a silent testament to the life, the love, and the man he once was, forever lost in the labyrinth of her obsession.

[r0ttgu7]

Hey can I get prompt 2 and 15 with Chuuya from the valentine event?

2 (“even if you do hate me, it doesn't matter, i really love you”) + 15 (“stop crying, please stop crying, you’re ruining our perfect day together..”)

sorry if the ending is rushed a little!, i genuinely had no idea how to end it but hope you enjoy nonetheless!

-WC 705 // valentines event open!! tws?: kidnapping mentioned but like, after that you're good? maybe some self-dehumanization from reader

You’ve been at Chuuya's house for a good time now, unsure the day you even got kidnapped, everything blended together and melted making everyday mistaken for the day before. Time didn't exist inside and at this point you’re unsure if time should even matter to you anymore. However, Chuuya always kept up with the dates and holidays, making time for them in the house and forcing you to participate in them. Outside was still cold but warming up, you remember noting that just to keep your sanity but as of late it no longer matters. You're locked up like an animal, but the only difference is you don't love your owner. You thought it was all so sweet until he couldn't take you being free and not with him. You don't remember but it felt fast, meeting him, loving him, getting captured, the events blended in together.

You could only let out a huff or sigh everytime the door opened, signaling he was home. You had noticed there was wine on the table, seemingly unopened, you ignored it thinking it was new and to be stored away pridefully. Stationed in the kitchen you were here for food and nothing else, somewhat glad you were even able to roam freely and not being locked up in a room like at the start. 

As your hand gripped the handle of the fridge, you heard footsteps coming towards the kitchen, of course he knew where you were, he always did. You only had freetime when he was at work, something to claim just a bit of sanity back from the exhausting nights before. “I'm home, what are you doing in here?” 

You knew his question was rhetorical, only just wanting you to have a conversation with him, for it to feel normal. Shading your eyes, you put your attention back on the fridge, opening it and seeing what there was to eat. “Oi, i got us food from my way home, i'm sure you’ll like the fresh made food instead.” begrudgingly you closed the fridge door, it seems he had set another date up that you would be forced to play a part of. You held up with a blank expression as you watched Chuuya sigh and put the bags he had down. “Even if you do hate me, it doesn't matter, I really love you.”

His words were soft, it would've been so sweet if you didn't feel like an animal, maybe you’d even smile. Instead you went and sat down, not feeling up to having a fight you’re gonna lose but at the same time you know it's not gonna be enjoyable. This seemed to surprise him, nonetheless Chuuya didn't say anything but only gave a tender smile. He handed over a steak cooked just the way you liked, the wine on the table was finally opened and he was pouring himself a drink. You hated all of this, you want the normality of life back, the one you took for granted and messed it all up.

Wanting to go back to that park, shopping, personal care, not being stuck in a life that could’ve gone so much differently but you’re stuck. Stuck in a hell you ever regret dreaming about, at least that dream had freedom to it. Tears started forming rapidly at your loss, you just wanted it all back. Shakily bringing up a hand to your mouth, this isn't fair. Chuuya started panicking at this, quickly going over towards you and he was trying to hold you. “Hey hey, what's wrong?, what's the matter?”

Seeing you suddenly in tears threw him off as Chuuya tried his best to calm you down by physical touch and hushed words. “stop crying, please stop crying, you’re ruining our perfect day together…” 

His voice was quiet but the tears kept flowing, unwilling to listen to his attempt at calming you down. Any words you tried to speak came out incoherent while your tears shed everywhere. Chuuya kept trying to soothe and calm you down yet nothing was working, he didn't want to get angry at you, he didn't know what else he could do. So there you were left in the kitchen still crying while Chuuya left.

[dropdeadgorgeos]

So this is just like a thought of like imagine (I swear I say that word all the time 💀) if the twst boys(expect orhto and the staff) we like yanderes like... I can't get my head off this subject-

𝔾𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕡𝕤 𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕝𝕦𝕕𝕖𝕕

Riddle Rosehearts:

Tbh I can see him working with Trey and Chenya all to get your love like they all can have a role where Chenya is like the scarast Mitch and he can like stalk you in his invisible form and riddle can make sure your always doing well and IF they hurt you which I don't see it happen but it could riddle would gladly heal you up and Trey could bake for you and protect you.

Ace & Deuce:

Okay so I think this would work as like they both try and like lock you somewhere where only they could find you though that's what most would probably do but whatever and like I don't see much here sorry-

Cater:

Okay so like he forces you to take pictures with him all the time and always tries to hide your sad face of being trapped in his room so he puts filters on and make you smile and always shows you how much people love your fake smile.

Jamil & Kalim:

Y'all KNOW these guys are working together like they don't even need to lock Y/N up Jamil just needs to hypnotize you and hide the fact your spellee and like they could just walk around holding your hand and they lock you up like Jamil did in book 4 lol see he's my favorite character and he is absolutely horrifying

𝕍𝕚𝕝:

Okay so like he spells the Apple as a love spell feeds it to you boom! That easy! He doesn't even need to chain you up.

ℝ𝕠𝕠𝕜 ℍ𝕦𝕟𝕥:

HOLY FUCKING GOD OMG okay so like this dude already stalks you imagine him actually taking you as his prey and like chaining you up as a trophy or something like he's already scary you gotta get scarier like god man I don't think I'll be able to live with that.

𝔼𝕡𝕖𝕝:

I don't really see it but that's probably because I'm not a big Epel fan so I don't know much other than he likes being strong or something I'm probably even wrong on that so I'm so sorry to all you Epel fans/simps I can't do this one sorry.

𝕃𝕖𝕠𝕟𝕒 𝕂𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤𝕔𝕙𝕠𝕝𝕒𝕣:

Imagine ge respects women to much to do this 😘 but I mean if he did he'd probably chain you up yeah and just like sleep with you while your chained up and bring you meat eat (so of you are a real plant eater us better get going-)

ℝ𝕦𝕘𝕘𝕚𝕖:

I can kinda see this maybe he could side with Leona or just keep you there I don't really see it happen but just tell me what you guys think.

𝕁𝕒𝕔𝕜 ℍ𝕠𝕨𝕝:

Hm....fuck... Your up against one of the strongest (physical form) students how the heck you escaping that??? Your not at least I wouldn't my body is to small and fragle he'll break me the moment we touch bruh.

𝔸𝕫𝕦𝕝 𝔸𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕟𝕘𝕣𝕠𝕥𝕥𝕠:

I feel like the fish mafia are some of the scariest yanderes because like I could see Azul actually using a spell to turn you into a fish or like a mermaid or something in than like he locks you in a tank and sits in his chair and just looks at your beauty and maybe made you sign a contract to forever be his oh! He didn't use a spell your silly ass signed a contract Hehehe hehehe fuck azul's yandere it's scary( I have a fear of being in water to long :'0)

𝕁𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕃𝕖𝕖𝕔𝕙:

I feel like this could work with him and his brother bit also not I can totally see this man using chains like for sure and he changes your emotions from scared and sad that your locked up to happy and loving like fish mafia = scary fucking yanderes

𝔽𝕝𝕠𝕪𝕕 𝕝𝕖𝕖𝕔𝕙:

He's... Already scary enough yep he doesn't need to go any farther to give me nightmares he chains me up and I'm as good as dead and I know you are to let's just be honest I think Jade would help him chain you up tbh.

𝕀𝕕𝕚𝕒:

Maybe lock you in his room or the lab idk cause I'm not at that part of the game yet but I know a few things so maybe like that and he would XD omg imagine he forces you to play Mario Kart with him XD just a thought lmao

𝕄𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕦𝕤 𝕕𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕚𝕒:

Probably tries to turn you into a fairy or something crap maybe makes you prick your finger so you don't run away and your fast asleep or something and he just watches you and forces you to be his queen I bet on a lot of these you aren't human like they turn you into some sorta creature that's from there home or kind.

𝕃𝕚𝕝𝕚𝕒:

Hm... Yep... Yep that's scary alright so like imagine your just living hour life than this 200 year old man short as your dresser walks in and is like "your mine now" he take you home and you wake up the next day chained up and bleeding like.. Lilia I could see them playing rough tbh.

𝕊𝕚𝕝𝕧𝕖𝕣:

Y'know I don't really see it maybe you do but I don't.

𝕊𝕖𝕓𝕖𝕜 ℤ𝕚𝕘𝕧𝕠𝕝𝕥:

Okay just a funny thought imagine he like ties you up and you guys are sitting together and he just tells you how much he love waka-sama XD and like he just explains it and he's like "oh yeah I love you a nd your here because I love you but I love waka-sama so much I could never tie him up" like boi-

PLEASE tell me if I forgot someone brain not going through

I could imagine Azul sitting as his desk saying a little peom

"Dear the deep blue sea! Let me be the only light you see!"

[sinfulslytherin]

Date.

Summary: Draco and you share your first kiss after spending the night together while your abusive, arranged husband tries to ruin the moment.

Warning: cursing, mature actions

——————————————————————————

"Amara! Why the hell is the door locked?! Open up!"

Grahams voice.

I never locked the door. I look over to Draco with a questioning look on my face.

"Colloportus. I used it to prevent the git from interrupting us." Draco answers without needing words to understand my question.

Graham probably forgot his wand, otherwise he would've already used Alohomora.

The loud banging continues and my attention switches back to the (still) locked door.

"Open up, Amara! You won't like the consequences!"

I panic as I jump up from the bed and make my way over to the door, scared that the longer it takes me to open up, the harder the punishment will be. Draco blocks my way before opening the door himself.

"Am- What the fuck are you doing here?!" Graham yells as soon as he sees Draco.

I can't see Graham due to Draco opening the door only far enough for him and Graham to see each other.

I get nervous and start to panic.

"I took care of Amara last night when you were...busy." Draco answers and I can hear that he smirks while saying so.

"Move out of my way-" Graham protests as he tries to move past the blonde who is still only in his boxers.

My body flinches and moves backwards, scared that he might actually get in. I don't know what kind of consequences Dracos actions might have on me.

"I don't share, Montague."

My breath hitches at his words and I can't tell wether I am happy about his words or petrified because of the consequences there'll be.

"I'm warning you, Malfoy. You know that I'll talk to her father. This bitch is promised to me. But I wonder what your Father will think about your actions." Graham spits.

Draco falls silent. I already hallucinate and see Graham barging into the room and Draco leaving me behind.

I feel my walls building up and mentally prepare myself for anoth-

"What did you just call her?" Draco growls in a low voice.

I feel my whole body heat up.

Graham seems to fall silent as I can't hear a word coming from his mouth.

"I dare you. Call her that again." Draco continues as I watch him shifting his posture in order to look down on Graham.

"Pathetic." I hear Graham mumble before the echoes of footsteps ring in my ears.

He's leaving.

Draco made him leave.

He closes the door as he turns to look at me. My cheeks are red and my eyes are glossy.

I'm safe.

"Are you crying? I'm sorry you had to hear-"

Draco can't finish his sentence as I walk up to him with two big steps and hug him.

He seems hesitant but gently hugs me back.

"I'm just so grateful...Thank you."

Draco doesn't say anything. He falls silent and keeps his arms wrapped around me.

I start to pull away, scared that Draco might not really enjoy the physical contact that I forced upon him.

I try to take a step back as I get stopped by a hand gripping my chin and making me look up at him.

My eyes meet his and Draco doesn't wait another second and slams his lips on mine.

I freeze.

I've never kissed anyone before besides Graham and he told me that I am a terrible kisser.

Draco can feel me hesitating. He pulls away but I still feel his hot breath on my lips.

"What is it?" He whispers against my lips.

"He told me I'm not a good kisser.." I whisper back.

"Let me form my own opinion on that." He answers before slamming his lips back on mine.

He moves his lips in a gentle but also demanding approach. I start to melt into the kiss after a few seconds and start to move my lips. I can feel him smirk into the kiss as his hand finds my waist and he starts to guide me two steps backwards until I feel a wall hit my back.

The kiss starts to deepen.

Dracos hand still rests on my waist as his other hand finds my cheek and holds my face.

He suddenly bites on my bottom lip.

A moan escapes my lips and he uses this opportunity to slide his tongue in my mouth.

I welcome it.

Our tounges both fight for dominance as some confidence starts to build up in me.

Dracos hand leaves my cheek and grips the back of my neck, signaling me that he's going to win that fight.

He does.

The kiss lasts a few more seconds before our lips lose contact in order to catch our breath.

I look up at Draco and Draco looks down at me.

The hands that were previously on my body now lean agains the wall, trapping me under his gaze.

"So, what's your opinion?" I ask as my gaze shifts between Dracos eyes and Dracos lips.

A light chuckle leaves his still swollen lips.

"That Graham is not only a git and a terrible person, but also delusional."

————————————————————————————————————————

Read the full part here!~ <3

[blurredcolour]

Extrication in G Major | Part Five

Extrication in G Major Masterlist

Summary: The aftermath of Luca and Rodney’s late night visit forces you to lay all your cards on the table as Jake grows ever more determined to keep you safe and healthy.

Warnings: Angst, Reader Injury, Mentions of Blood, Mentions of Pain Medication, Descriptions of Injuries, Descriptions of Medical Procedures, Hospital Setting, Interactions with Medical Professionals, Descriptions of Gambling Addiction, Descriptions of Difficult Family/Home Life, Interactions with Law Enforcement, Interactions with Lawyers. Rating - T.

Word Count: 4356

Recap: Luca broke into the reader’s apartment with the assistance of a goon named Rodney. After threatening the reader and ransacking her apartment for valuables, Luca had Rodney physically hurt the reader. The reader fought back, and Rodney grew angry, ultimately resulting in the reader’s hand being pinned against the kitchen table impaled by a hunting knife. After almost giving up, the reader called Jake for help. He showed up at the apartment and used his belt as a makeshift tourniquet as he called emergency services.

The small, white card rotating in his fingertips was mesmerising. You could not seem to tear your eyes away from the movement. Could not seem to focus on anything else in the unfamiliar room flooded with the light of day. He changed the axis upon which the card spun, revealing a ruddy brown mark you had not quite seen before. Your breath snagged in your throat as your mind registered that it was old, dried blood. Your blood.

Jake’s face suddenly flooded your field of vision, his green eyes paled by concern, features tightened by fatigue.

“Hey there darlin’, so good to see you…” He spoke gently as though he were trying not to spook you.

“Jake…” You rasped and your nose crinkled at the resistance in your lower lip, raising your right hand to find a neat set of stitches holding the split there closed.

Your eyes widened and then fell to focus on the pulse oximeter on your index finger in bewilderment, before you rotated your hand to take in the IV impaled in the back of it, covered in copious amounts of tape to hold it in place. Memories came roaring back, wringing the air from your lungs and causing your heart to jack rabbit beneath your ribs.

Memories of Rodney and his fists. Rodney and his hunting knife. Your eyes darted about the clinically tidy hospital room before landing on your left hand, wrapped in a white elevation sling, hanging from your neck and resting high upon a stack of pillows tucked against your side.

Jake’s warm palms gently cradled your face, barely brushing against your brutalized skin, and carefully guided your gaze back to meet his.

“Easy, easy…focus on me, ok? We are safe. We are at the hospital, you’ve had surgery, the doctor is going to come and talk to us about it once you’re more awake.” He spoke in a low, soothing voice as tears welled in your eyes.

He shifted one hand down to guide your right hand to rest on the centre of his chest, carefully cupping his overtop of it without pressing against your IV.

“Breathing in….and out….” He repeated as his chest rose and fell.

Closing your eyes, you focused on the sound of his voice and the tactile rhythm of his breath, curling your fingers into his shirt slightly as the tears rolled down your cheeks, crescendoing into broken sobs before waning to pathetic sniffles. You sank back into the questionably comfortable pillows as Jake carefully dabbed at your tears with some remarkably coarse tissues.

“I’m here…” He repeated hoarsely and you nodded, lifting your hand from beneath his to swipe at the stray tears on his cheeks.

“Thank you…” It was difficult to speak, your mouth feeling as though someone had diligently swabbed every drop of moisture from it with gauze and your tongue barely wanted to respond, but you forced the words to form. “Jake thank you.” Your eyes locked onto his meaningfully and he nodded, pressing his lips together firmly.

His eyes were drawn to some movement in the hallway, and he leaned in close to gently press his lips to your temple.

“Before your nurse Mina comes in…you should know that she thinks we’re engaged, and I have not gone out of my way to correct her as her interpretation got me in here right away.” He murmured into your hair.

Your eyes widened as you processed Jake’s words, warmth searing across your cheeks, your ears radiating a heat that you were certain he could feel against his jaw. You opened your mouth to chide him, or perhaps to interrogate him as to the cause of the misunderstanding, but the aforementioned Mina arrived and began looking you over. She was warm and kind, yet still efficient as she introduced herself and took note of your vitals. She brought you some ice chips to start before you graduated to some more substantial food.

The level of activity, low as it was, and residual anesthesia in your system, was enough to necessitate a nap as soon as you had eaten your fill. The last sensation you were aware of was Jake’s thumb gently stroking along yours, setting a faint smile on your lips as you fell asleep.

When your eyes opened next the sun was lower in the sky, the shadows stretching deeper into the room, dying it a rich shade of orange, but your mind was much clearer. You turned your head to see Jake dozing with his head resting against the rail of your hospital bed, his hand still carefully cupping yours. You could hear Mina’s voice out in the hall, her speech taking on a firm tone.

“…I’ll have to ask you to confirm with her doctor, I cannot allow it until he gives you permission…”

You leaned forward to peer out into the hall, quickly laying back onto the pillows, whimpering in pain and fear. The two police officers were barely visible but the blue of their uniforms, the girth of their utility belts, and the attitude with which they carried themselves was unmistakable.

“They’ve been here for a few hours now…” Jake murmured from beside you. “Mina is doing her best to keep them out until your doctor comes by on rounds but we’re nearing shift change so I’d expect him soon.”

“Jake, you said no cops….” You looked to him slowly and he nodded.

“My money is on the firefighters who cut a hole in your tabletop so the paramedics could transport you here…as you were…” He finished carefully not wanting to re-traumatize you. “I’m here to help you but you gotta tell me darlin’. I can’t help if I don’t understand.”

Your brows furrowed as you looked to his eyes, considering the earnestness welling there. This had always been something that the women of your family had born alone…first your mother…and now you. Considering that she had vanished from your life, and you were now laying in a hospital bed, it was perhaps an indication that a different approach might be warranted. You took a slow breath and shuffled closer to Jake; his expression cautiously optimistic as he leaned closer in response.

“As long as I can remember my father’s had a gambling problem.” You quickly dropped your eyes to focus on where your hand rested beneath his, noting the way his thumb twitched before it resumed its soothing caress against your skin. “He’ll bet on anything – what time dinner will be done, the food his brother will bring to the tailgate party, but his first love has always been Blackjack. My mom did her best to hide the consequences of it from me when I was younger. Explained away his absences or the reason why I was eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for dinner again. But when he pawned my half-sized cello…” You took a shuddering breath and swallowed roughly, gritting your teeth, determined to make it through the full story. “…that was the last straw for her. We moved out, and when he lost her income, he turned to loan sharks to support his habits. When he couldn’t repay, they came to her. By the time I was sixteen, she’d had her fill of dealing with them and chose to disappear. It was easy for her, she’s a receptionist – no professional registry, her name isn’t printed on a website anywhere. She lives in a flyover state and sends me postcards…or…she did when I was in Boston.”

“Oh darlin’…” You heard him breathe sadly and risked a glance at his face, furrowed in empathy, and you pressed your lips together as they threatened to wobble.

“I…I refused to go, didn’t want to leave Jersey – it was home, and I was so close to getting a scholarship to Julliard…I moved back in with my dad, got an after-school job and funded his habit. I kept my cello at school, though. The debts have gotten bigger, the due dates have come faster. I had to sell my car to make the last one. It’s why I left Boston, came here. I…knew it wasn’t as permanent as my mom’s move. I knew they’d put me on their homepage I just thought it’d take longer for them to find me…or for my father to owe them sixty thousand dollars already.” You nodded sadly as Jake sucked in a sharp breath.

“I…I knew one of them, he’s come to me almost every time my father’s owed them money…you saw him at the band shell the other night…the other one was new. I don’t have any money to give them this time. San Diego is expensive and I’m not making what I used to in Boston. I got stupid. I got stubborn. I like this life and I don’t want to give it up. I shouldn’t have struggled. It made him angry, and this is all my fault…” You trailed off, hot tears flooding your vision.

“I’m going to send a missile through their front door.”

The voice the came from him was so utterly unlike anything you had ever heard from him before, filled with a cold rage, so foreign, that you looked to him sharply to confirm that Jake had in fact spoken the words. His eyes met yours and immediately softened, free hand coming to cup your tender cheek carefully.

“Sorry darlin’…”

“Pretty sure that would be a war crime, or treason, or something Jake…” You turned your head to press an awkward kiss to his palm, movement still restricted by the stitches in the corner of your bottom lip.

“I’d do it for you.” He replied firmly, fervent honesty burnishing the green of his eyes brightly.

“You’re a good man Jacob Seresin, don’t let them put ‘dishonourable’ next to your name for me.” You met his eyes firmly, tone somewhat pleading.

Rising to his feet, Jake closed the distance between you and carefully caught your upper lip in a kiss. It was soft, gentle, and made all the more meaningful by his caution to prevent further damage to your lower lip.

The rap of Mina’s knuckles accompanied by the clearing of her throat had him pulling back slowly as both of you turned toward the doorway.

“You asked me to let you know when Dr. Donaghy was on his way? Just stepped off the elevator.” She nodded. “He’ll stop by the station to review the chart; you’ll have a minute or two before he arrives.”

“Thank you, Mina.” Jake smiled sweetly and settled back into his chair, pulling out his phone and quickly sending off a text as you felt a sudden need to try and rearrange the neckline of your hospital gown with the knowledge of impending visitors.

Dr. Donaghy was a typical surgeon – outspoken about his abilities and more fascinated with the intricacies and challenges of your case than in you as a person.

“You are lucky to have such an insistent fiancé, hounding those poor paramedics to bring you to my hospital with his credit card at the ready. The timely application of the tourniquet saved your life and allowed me to operate immediately.”

You turned to shoot Jake a wide-eyed look as not only did it seem the entire hospital was under the impression you were engaged, but your care was all at his expense. Jake scrunched his nose in an affection-laced display of remorse, but his eyes shifted back to the doctor as a blur of motion flickered in your peripheral. Turning your head back, you were somewhat startled by the x-ray of your mangled hand on an iPad screen, but you appreciated as the doctor explained how your tendons were reconnected and bones set.

“At the moment your hand is in a splint to allow the swelling to abate; we will put a fiberglass cast on there once there is no longer a concern about compromising blood flow.” He swiped a finger across the screen to reveal the post-op films. “You will see here we have put no pins, screws, or rods.” He smirked as you nodded enthusiastically with an exhale of relief. “Your personal advocate also ensured we were aware of your career as a cellist. We’ve done the repairs in a way that we are optimist will have the least impact on your ability to play.

I have done my best here and the rest is up to you. There are some concerning nutritional deficiencies in your bloodwork that need to be addressed for your body to have a chance to heal this, and best-case scenario it may never better the same again. But if you obey your physiotherapist as though they are god almighty…there is a chance you get back to playing professionally.”

Your eyes snapped up to the doctor’s face. “Really?” You breathed, having not allowed yourself to even hope that such a thing would be possible.

“Really.” He nodded with a self-assured grin. “Now, we’ll keep you overnight, just to make sure everything is in order, and I expect to discharge you first thing in the morning. I’ll have all the instructions prepped at that time. Physio will be by in the meantime for a consult, there will be neck and shoulder exercises to start and then plenty of work once the cast is off. Any questions?”

You shook your head quickly, too stunned by the impossibly good news to think of anything. “Thank you, doctor.”

You watched Jake rise to shake the doctor’s hand, frowning as you noticed the streaks of dried blood marring his jeans. You were about to apologize for trapping him all day at the hospital in filthy clothes when a woman wearing a very nice suit blocked the doorway to your room, preventing the hovering officers from entering.

“If you’ll excuse me gentlemen, I just need a few words with my client before you question her, thank you.” She closed the door firmly without allowing them a chance to reply, turning to the pair of you quickly. “Sorry Lieutenant Commander, traffic was murder. Glad I still made it in time.” She smoothed her suit jacket before offering her hand to shake. “Darlene Benitez, pleased to meet you, wish it were under better circumstances.”

You shook her hand slowly, feeling altogether overwhelmed by your latest visitor. She was stunning, maybe mid-forties, with glossy black hair swept back into a clip.

“Darlin’, Ms. Benitez works for the law firm my family keeps on retainer, I asked her to be present when you speak to the police.”

“Am I…do you think I’m in trouble?!” You blinked and sat up sharply, hissing in pain as you were nearing the tail end of your pain medication.

“Not in the least, it is your legal right to have a lawyer present and Lieutenant Commander Seresin implied there are extenuating circumstances to last night’s incident….”

You swallowed dryly and looked between them.

“I can’t afford…” You started to protest, and Jake shook his head, making you huff. “We will have that particular discussion another time Lieutenant Commander.” You eyed him firmly and watched his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed tightly before you turned back to Ms. Benitez. “They will want to know if I know who did this to me. If I were to divulge that information, people I care about would be hurt…and judging by the fact that I am hurt, they will hurt that person even more. I don’t want that to happen.”

“Right.” She nodded, not at all phased. “I don’t need to know anything further than that. Simply stick to the truth of things as much as possible. Was it dark? Did they turn on the lights?”

You nodded and then shook your head. “No, they left the lights off. I knew one but not the other.”

“Focus on the fact that you didn’t know the one, the fact that it was dark. Let me handle the rest.” She nodded. “Ready?”

Furrowing your brows, you reached for Jake’s hand, taking a steadying breath as he laced his fingers through yours. “Ok.”

She nodded and opened the door, ushering them in. You could see Mina hovering in the hallway behind them, glancing at her watch.

“Officers, given the fact that my client is still suffering the aftereffects of anaesthesia and in a great deal of pain we are only able to offer you five minutes at this time. Please use them wisely.”

“If you could please describe what happened, ma’am?” the older one asked as he came stand at the end of your bed and you nodded slowly.

“I was asleep, there was a loud noise, I got pulled out of bed. He demanded money. He tore my place apart, asked for money again. Then he started hitting me. I told him I didn’t have any money and then he put a knife through my hand…”

“Did you recognize him?” The other, younger, office chimed in, taking notes, and you shook your head.

“I’ve never seen him before…”

“Would you be able to sit down with a sketch artist?”

“It was so dark, I mean, I could try but I…didn’t really get a good look at him.”

“Do you have any idea why he was asking you for money? Did he say anything, give you any reason?”

You swallowed nervously and felt Jake squeeze your hand reassuringly. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on the truth of it as Darlene had instructed.

“N...no he just kept saying ‘pay’…and I just kept saying ‘I don’t have any money’ and he just kept hitting me…” Your voice sounded rather strangled even to your own ears as you managed to open your eyes, tears wavering along the waterline of your lower eyelids.

“I think that will do gentlemen, don’t you?” Darlene’s voice cut through the tension of the room with authority and had the officers nodding quickly.

“If you think of anything else ma’am…” One of them held out a card which she quickly intercepted, offering her own business card in return.

“If you need to ask any further questions of my client, she can be reached through my office. Have a wonderful day.” She ushered them out easily before turning back to look you and Jake over. “We’ll talk again at a more convenient time, do take care.” She stood in the hall, presumably watching the officers depart, while Mina quickly came in to see to your next dose of pain medication.

Your physio consult was not long after, mercifully they left handouts of the stretches they asked you to practice before your next appointment, and then dinner arrived. Once that was cleared away, your night nurse Sasha popped in.

“I do hate to kick you out, Jake, but she really ought to get her rest after all the activity today, and visiting hours are technically over…”

Jake sighed, but you squeezed his hand before he could object. “Go shower, and sleep in a real bed. You heard the doctor; I get to leave tomorrow, but only if I behave…”

He eyed you silently, considering, before nodding reluctantly.

“I’m going to come get you first thing, ok?” He pressed a careful kiss to your forehead. “You’re coming home with me and we’re fixing your nutritional deficiencies.”

You sighed in mock annoyance. “Green smoothies for the rest of my life?”

“I’ll make them tasty; you have my word darlin’. Sleep well?” His eyes traced over the curves of your face as you fought to keep your eyelids open.

“You too…” He kissed the back of your hand before gently tucking it beneath the blankets.

Jake paused one last time in the doorway then made his way out. Sasha turned out the lights and you settled in for the interrupted, fitful sleep that accompanied hospital stays.

True to his word, Dr. Donaghy discharged you at seven thirty the next morning with a very thorough set of instructions. True to his word, Jake was there to drive you back to his place, dressed in his khakis, with a set of clothes he had fetched from your apartment…at some point. Getting changed was no easy feat, and you were grateful for his assistance. In fresh clothing, left arm once again secured in a sling, with your hair somewhat tamed, you still felt self-conscious walking out beside him. The majority of the nursing staff could hardly keep their eyes off him, but you did your best to focus on the feel of his arm around your waist as he guided you to his waiting truck.

After he had safely ensconced you in his bed with a nutritious smoothie and access to any streaming service you could name, Jake rushed off to work. Deliveries of well-balanced meals for lunch and dinner arrived throughout the day, along with a few texts, but you mostly dozed and watched inane content that did not take a lot of brain power to process. The man himself did not arrive home until closer to eight o’clock, face drawn by fatigue, still in his green flight suit.

“Thought I heard planes…” You murmured sleepily and he carefully sat on the edge of the bed beside you.

“Sorry darlin’, Mav was running my ass all day for calling in yesterday and showing up late today and…” He shook his head quickly. “Don’t you worry about me though, how are you feeling?” He looked you over quickly.

“Very comfortable, a little bit dumber, and well fed. Thank you, Jake.” You smiled sleepily. “I’ll be just fine here; I know you have a routine…”

“But darlin’, now I get to start a new routine.” He grinned, eyes sparkling as they crinkled at the corners. “One with you in it, all the time.” His lips pressed to yours gently and you sighed lovingly as your heart throbbed beneath your sternum.

Shifting forward off your perfectly placed pile of pillows, you cupped his jaw with your right hand, stroking your fingers along his end-of-day stubble tenderly.

“It’s words like that,” you murmured against his lips, “that had the whole hospital convinced we’re engaged, lover boy.”

He chuckled ruefully. “I’m pretty sure it was the part where I was…. sitting in the waiting room crying into a bag of Doritos about how I was going to marry you…”

Pulling back quickly, you sought his eyes, feeling your lower lip tremble. “Oh Jake….” You choked out as he looked down quickly, obviously feeling vulnerable. You began to gently press your lips across the tensed, tired features of his face, the stitches in the bottom corner of your mouth rasping against his skin – but you were undeterred. “Christ I am so, so sorry you went through that alone. You were there when I lost consciousness. You were there when I woke up…and you were alone the whole time in between…” You sniffed as you felt tears for him steal down your cheeks. “This is why I left that party without giving you my number. This is why I left the bar and tried to…keep it all a secret. But you are so damn stubborn and so fucking wonderful.”

You both laughed tearfully, and he pressed his face to your neck, taking a few deep breaths to steady himself before lifting his eyes to meet yours again.

“I was alone for three…four hours maybe? And I resorted to the vending machine and the sympathy of the nursing staff. Darlin’, how long have you been alone with this? Years.” He shook his head, pressing his lips together wordlessly.

“I wish I could hate him, Jake. Somehow, I think it would make all of this easier but, no matter what he does,” you swallowed painfully as your voice started to tremble, “he’s still my daddy and I can’t figure out how to stop loving him no matter what it costs me. And…now it’s…. costing you, too…” You gasped out the last as Jake carefully gathering you close into his arms.

He held you as you cried, soaking the front of his flight suit with your tears, until you were utterly spent and exhausted against him.

“Just know, darlin’, that there is no cost too great for me to be with you. We’ll get you well, and we’ll figure this out together, yes?” He pressed his lips to your temple gently as your breath shuddered from your lungs.

“Dangerous words, Jake, when I’ve finally stopped crying…” You whispered raggedly, leaning back to look over his face, a fresh crop of tears pooling in the corners of your eyes.

“Sorry there, darlin’, sorry.” He gently kissed them away as they stole down the well-worn tear tracks on your cheeks. “Happy tears?” He uttered hopefully and you nodded warmly, resting your forehead against his carefully.

“You mean it?” You sniffed, dabbing at your cheeks with your sleeve.

“You bet I do…” You felt him tense, and you kissed him quickly.

“It’s ok, it’s not…the word doesn’t freak me out.”

He exhaled and rubbed a soothing hand along your spine warmly. “I will try not to use it, anyway. I promise that I mean it. Even if you try and run again.”

“Thank you, Jake. Thank you for being so damn stubborn.” You laughed weakly earning a tender kiss.

“Please don’t try and run away again…” He murmured quietly and you frowned, sliding your good arm around his waist, squeezing as tightly as you could.

“Not going anywhere, Jake. I promise you that.” Pressing your lips to his jaw you smiled as you felt the tension of his muscles ease beneath your touch. “Besides, I don’t think I’d get very far right now anyway.” You chortled and leaned against him heavily, earning a loving chuckle.

He carried you to the washroom, gently assisting you with your bedtime routine before tucking you back into the bed. You heard him run through the shower before going downstairs, presumably to eat some dinner, before the bed dipped slightly. Smiling drowsily, you reached out your right arm, sighing as he hugged it to his chest carefully as he settled in beside you.

“Night, darlin’.” He whispered and you hummed in reply before succumbing to deep sleep.

Extrication in G Major Masterlist

Tag List: @mizzzpink, @smoothdogsgirl

[k-evans-reads]

In Living Color

Chapter 23

Summary: When Natalie Marton, lead character designer for Buzz Lightyear, meets the voice of Buzz, Chris Evans, the sparks are undeniable. But when their work pushes them away from each other, both physically and emotionally, will the sheer differences between their worlds be enough to force them apart?

Pairing: Chris Evans x Pixar Animator OFC Natalie Marton

Word Count: 4,886

By: @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour

We do NOT give permission for our works to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. Our work is our own.

Warnings: None.

Previous | Main Masterlist | In Living Color Masterlist

May 15th, 2022

Chris craned his neck as he dug in one of the many cardboard moving boxes still scattered around Nat’s apartment, coming up empty on his search. With another sigh, he grabbed the boxcutter and opened the next box, listening to Nat humming in the other room as she searched as well. 

He opened the box, eyes widening as he finally found the box with her workout clothes. It was – of course – unlabeled, a wrinkled and scattered mess inside the box from being driven up the coast, but the sight of the pairs of sneakers and workout clothes, among a few toiletries and sheet pans, was welcomed. 

“Nattie! I found it!” He called over his shoulder as he sat down on the window seat with a sigh, pulling out the clothes and shoes just as Nat hurried in from her bedroom. 

Her hair was falling out of the bun she’d thrown it up in, a disheveled curly mess hanging around her face. Any annoyance he felt at having to spend their morning, after he caught up on some much needed sleep from his long flight the day before, searching every box that still sat unpacked in her apartment for a single outfit disappeared at the sight of that relieved smile as she came closer to him, holding out her hands to take the things from him. “Where was it?” She asked as she held the shoes in one hand and the shorts and tank top in another. 

“In this box with your kitchen shit… and a bunch of shampoo,” he trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief as he tried to come up with some explanation for that logic. “Who the hell packed these boxes anyway?” 

“...I was in a hurry, okay? I didn’t have time to label everything and put it all together,” she retorted with a shrug, turning to go back to the bedroom. Chris hopped off the window seat to follow her as she called over her shoulder, “Besides, what does it matter if they’re organized? You just have to unpack it all anyway.” 

He brushed his hand across her lower back as he walked past her and headed to where his suitcase was open on the old wooden floor. “It matters because in moments like this it takes us a half an hour just to find your damn sneakers,” he muttered playfully, grabbing a pair of sweatpants to change into. 

He had slipped into the old ensuite to brush his teeth when he heard Nat tell him, “Well Mark and Jamie helped me pack so blame them.” 

“Oh yeah that sounds like a good plan, three artists packing boxes. No wonder nothing is organized,” Chris drawled sarcastically, a smirk on his lips when he caught Nat’s eyes in the reflection of the mirror. He leaned down, rinsing the toothbrush off before he put it back next to Nat’s in the small holder that sat on the worn countertop. 

“Chris, we both know you are the organized one anyways, but you weren’t around to keep me straight,” she laughed, sticking her tongue out at him as he came out of the bathroom. He rolled his eyes as he changed into his sweatpants and jammed sneakers on, just as Nat quickly changed into her tank top and added, “I’m starting to think you flew all the way from London just to make fun of me,” 

“Nah, that’s just an added bonus,” he smirked, laughing loudly at her unamused expression. He sat down on her bed with a sigh, his muscles still aching from the long twelve-hour flight, and quietly pointed out, “I never even asked if you’d locked yourself in this apartment yet.” 

“For your information smartass, I’ve only locked myself out of this apartment,” she corrected, her laughter echoing the room as he leaned over to smack her ass playfully. 

They quieted down as Nat continued getting ready, fixing her hair before she pulled her pajama pants off. He was silent as she pulled the athletic shorts up around her waist, but his eyes were drawn to the large tattoo he caught a glimpse of, the one that he could still see below the shorts as well. 

“Hey, that’s healing up really well,” he pointed out as he stood up, coming to stand behind Nat in the reflection of the standing mirror, raising a single eyebrow as he nodded his chin towards her leg. 

“That first week it was so itchy but now that it’s been almost two it’s feeling really good,” Nat told him, a smile growing on her lips as he slipped his arm across her stomach. He hooked his chin on her shoulder, unable to break his eyes away from hers. He was struck, not for the first time since arriving in San Francisco late the previous night, that she’d been his for a year now. And if he had any say in it, that fact wouldn’t change for the rest of their lives.  

“It looks even better in person, baby. I love it,” he complimented, turning to press a few kisses to her neck. At her silence, he raised an eyebrow again and met her eyes in the mirror, asking, “Are you still happy with it?” 

Nat nodded, her empty hand moving so she could run a finger over the delicate lines of ink. “I am. I love how it came out and I just keep smiling everytime I see it.” 

“I think it’s really beautiful how much thought you put into designing it,” he murmured. His eyes were drawn to the different representations of her family that he could see – Saturn for her father, a little moon for herself, Mars for Alex, a larger moon for Heather, and a hand holding them all, representing Shelly, her late mother. “I know that there are a lot of feelings surrounding your mom and everything, but I think it’s special that you incorporated something to represent her.” 

“Even though I didn’t know her, she still is a big part of my life,” Nat whispered back. Her gaze avoided his in the reflection of the mirror as she glanced around the room, her hands fidgeting by her sides as she confessed, “Which honestly feels so weird at times that someone who is part of your life, also isn’t part of your life if that makes sense.” 

“No, I can understand that,” Chris assured Nat. He watched as her eyes met his in the mirror, her hands wringing in front of her as a frown settled on her lips. He knew he’d never have any comparable loss to hers – a parent, one she never remembered, having lost them as a young toddler – but he understood it. He was always willing to listen to Nat, to hear the occasional confessions, and would never judge her for any of that. “She was your mother but you didn’t know her so that’s a strange dichotomy.” 

Nat nodded, her eyes filled with some relief as she agreed, “It is, but I’m glad the rest of my family has memories about her so that they could talk about her so I kind of got to know her.” A small smile crossed her lips as her hand reached back to take his own, telling Chris, “Just the other day my dad was telling me how proud of me she’d be for moving here and taking this promotion.” 

He smiled at those words, knowing Eric must’ve been bursting with pride. But at that mention, his heart also clenched, remembering just how completely different his own reaction was. He was proud of Nat, always, but he was too blinded by his own hesitations to see just how important this role was. “I’m just sorry I wasn’t at first,” he whispered to Nat, squeezing her hand as he hooked his chin over her shoulder.

She sighed and shook her head, her voice low and a bit strained as she said, “Chris, that wasn’t meant as a dig at you.” 

“No, I know it wasn’t but I just want you to know I’m sorry for not handling all that better,” he insisted. He paused as she turned in his arms, facing him now. A small grin appeared on his lips as he looked down at Nattie, still struck that they’d been each other’s for a year – and if he was being honest, for far longer than that – already. “I love you Nattie, and that matters more to me than anything in the world.” 

“I love you too, Chris,” she murmured, leaning up to press her lips to his quickly. As she pulled away from him, she smirked and her eyes twinkled when she added, “Which I think I’m proving by going on this stupid hike with you.” 

He rolled his eyes, reminding her, “I thought we agreed no complaining about the hike if you get to pick where to go to dinner.” 

“No you said that, I never agreed. If I’m getting dragged on a hike there’s going to be complaining,” Nat argued, laughing as he frowned and pinched her rear.

They finished getting ready, then left the old apartment and climbed down the many flights of rickety stairs before they were in the sunny San Francisco late morning. The streets weren’t too busy as they made their way over to where Nat’s car was parked, then they quickly made the drive to the trail. It was nearly lunchtime – something else Nat had realized and complained about – by the time they’d begun their hike, but getting to be alone, still technically inside of the busy city, on their anniversary, was one of the best gifts Chris could’ve asked for.

Chris shifted the backpack straps on his shoulders, feeling their water bottles inside the bag move. He squinted his eyes behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses, the bright sun too strong for the frames, but he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. He saw Nat stop walking ahead of him, waiting for him to catch up as she looked around. 

“I still don’t understand why people enjoy doing this,” Nat mumbled, but he knew the words were only teasingly said. She hadn’t been exactly… over the moon when he sent a link to a local hiking trail for them to do during his short visit to San Francisco, but she’d been more than open to the idea after a bit of discussion. But still, Nat was Nat, and she wouldn’t let a moment go by without some chance for banter.

His hand dropped from holding the strap of the bag to instead slap Nat’s ass lightly as he informed her, “Because it’s fun to be out in nature, so shut the fuck up and be happy.” 

“Yeah that really made my mood just brighten up,” Nat laughed, batting his hand away as her laughter echoed off of the large trees.

Chris’ eyes flicked down to Nat’s rear as they made their way up the steep trail side-by-side, watching the way her muscles tensed beneath the running shorts with the action. “With the way your ass looks in those workout shorts, I think I’m going to drag you hiking more often,” he informed her quietly, despite knowing they weren’t near anyone else for at least a solid mile. 

Nat laughed loudly at those words, shaking her head with a smirk as she suggested, “How about I wear them at home while sitting on the couch painting? That seems like a better compromise…” 

“You’re being a brat, I hope you know that,” Chris informed her, smiling to himself as they kept making their way further up the trail. 

“Oh I do, I just don’t care,” Nat giggled, reaching up to bat a fly away from her face. They fell silent for a moment as they kept hiking and listened to the sounds of the birds chirping in the trees above them before she added, “In all seriousness, I’m really glad you’re here Chris. I know how exhausted you must be after just getting done with filming and then flying out here.” 

He frowned a bit as he listened to her words, knowing it wasn’t that big of a deal. He’d been working on his latest film, one for Apple, since mid-February, and they’d wrapped with three days of filming in London the previous week. He’d already sent Dodger home with Josh, his longtime friend and personal assistant, prior to leaving Atlanta for London, and then had flown directly from London to San Francisco, getting in the previous day. He’d wanted to be with Nat for their anniversary, even if it meant an eleven-hour flight and a day of sleeping after he got in. “It’s worth it to be with you,” he told her honestly, his voice soft. 

“I’m just glad we’re okay, now,” she whispered, gently reaching to take his hand in hers as they walked. She was quiet for a moment before she admitted, “My dad didn’t even believe it when I told him we had broken up.” 

He frowned a little, knowing this entire mess was on him for walking out in a fury in the first place. “I’m sure Alex wanted to kill me and probably still does,” he sighed. 

She was silent for a few moments before delicately confessing, “Well… kind of, yeah.” 

“Ma was worried sick about both of us that week. She’d text me every day and ask me how I was,” Chris supplied, wanting to shift the focus off of Nat for a bit. He’d been practically embarrassed when he realized he’d have to tell not only his mother and father, but also his siblings, who Nat had grown so so close to, about their sudden split. It was humiliating to tell them the news, there was no other way to say it. Telling his Ma, when she asked how Nat was and what he and Nat were up to together during their call that night he’d arrived in LA…. it sucked. Then hearing from his sisters as they found out, and Scott… that hurt the most out of his siblings, since Scott and Nat had grown close in LA over the last year as well. He squeezed her hand gently in his own, adding, “She also told me just the other day that she thought about calling you so many times to check on you but didn’t want to overstep.” 

Nat smiled faintly at those words, admitting to him, “Honestly I would have been fine with it, I love her so much.” He laughed at that, knowing it was true. She and Lisa had developed such a close relationship since they’d met back in October, between calling each other often, connecting on social media, and also with Nat’s latest visit to Boston in February. It was a little reminiscent, in Chris’ own mind, of how Nat’s relationship with Shelly might look if things had gone differently. 

“Scott just told me how fuckin’ stupid I was,” Chris informed her with a chuckle, then he shrugged as Nat laughed loudly. “Which was fair.” 

“I think we’ve both agreed that both of us were equally at fault,” Nat amended as she swung their joined hands between them. With her free hand, she pushed her sunglasses further up her nose as she whispered to him, “I’m just glad you showed up outside that elevator.” 

Chris smiled, knowing that his last-ditch effort to fix this turned out to be the best decision of his entire life. “I just couldn’t go any longer without seeing you,” he admitted, reaching his free hand to adjust the strap of the bag again as he and Nat kept hiking. 

They were both quiet for a while as they reached the top of the trail – and if he had to guess, Nat was thinking ‘finally’. As they stood at the top of the trail, overlooking the Bay and feeling the strong breeze, Nat admitted to him, “If it’s any consolation, I was planning on calling you once I got settled in here.” 

He turned, looking down at her in surprise as he asked, “Were you, really?” 

“I really was.” 

Nat adjusted the basket of laundry in her arms as she tried – and failed – to sneak into the bedroom without waking Chris. The creaky door was too loud to be ignored as Chris’ eyes opened suddenly from where he was laying on his side beneath the fluffy duvet, his hair sticking up every which way. 

Although she’d ruined the last of his nap, there was a small smile that crossed his lips once they locked eyes. She gently dropped the laundry basket to the bed, watching as he slowly sat up with a yawn as he woke up more. 

“What time is it?” He asked, his voice gravelly as he ran a hand through his messy hair, attempting to flatten it a bit. 

Nat turned her bedside lamp on, watching the way Chris jerked a bit as his eyes adjusted to the light. “Almost five,” she told him quietly as she reached for her laundry, moving to put it in the dresser behind her. 

He nodded, yawning loudly before he pushed the duvet off of his bare chest. “I better get up, I need to take a shower before dinner,” he mumbled as he turned to get up off of the bed. 

“Baby, we can just stay in. We don’t need to go out to dinner,” she tried to reason, watching him stretch, the muscles in his back rippling. “I’m sure you’re still exhausted from filming.” 

He made his way around the bed, arching a single eyebrow as he passed her. “I’m not missing taking you out on our one year anniversary,” he told her, his voice firm and decisive. 

She rolled her eyes as she grabbed her leggings, turning to put them in the drawer as he stepped into the tiny ensuite bathroom. “Well you’re going to be here for like four more days so we have plenty of time to go out,” she called, listening as Chris scoffed.

Through the open door, Nat could see him reach into the shower, turning on the water for the shower. His head popped out of the bathroom one last, a firm look on his face as he replied, “I’m taking my Nattie out tonight,” just before he shut the door behind him to shower. 

Once they were both ready, they walked hand-in-hand to the highly-rated restaurant only a few blocks from Nat’s apartment, slipping into a table tucked in the back corner that had been reserved under Nat’s name. As they settled into the plush chairs in the dim lighting with glasses of wine in their hands, Chris peered at Nat over the menu. “I haven’t really gotten a chance to ask you yet how you feel like everything is going,” he began, pausing before he added, “Like with your job and moving here.” 

Nat took a long sip of the red wine, hesitating. “Well… it’s kind of hard to say right now. I mean, I’ve only been doing it for two weeks,” she slowly said, shrugging her shoulders. It just all still felt so unfamiliar to her, even outside of work, that she never felt as though she could relax fully. 

The sounds of her neighbors walking around, the creak of every door, floorboard, and cabinet in her apartment, to needing to pull up Google Maps so she could find the grocery store…. It was all things she never remembered noticing back when she moved to Los Angeles over a decade ago, and now at this point in her life… she hated the readjustment, especially while alone. 

He arched an eyebrow at her, giving her a suspicious look. “Ten days at work means that’s nine more days than you need to make friends,” he pointed out with an amused smirk. “Didn’t you become friends with Mark on your first day?” 

“Yeah I like everyone, but I haven’t really had a chance to connect with anyone in particular yet,” Nat told him, her voice quiet. She took another sip of wine to buy herself time, her eyes dancing around the dining room over Chris’ shoulder before she explained, “They’re all kind of close and I’m the new one coming in so it’s just different I guess.” 

“I know you’ll settle in,” Chris assured Nat. Her eyes followed his movements as he put the menu down on the table, reaching for a small piece of bread from the basket between them. “Have you gotten to explore San Francisco much?” He asked her with genuine interest, and she felt her shoulders slouch at the question. 

“Not yet,” she murmured, following his lead and taking some bread as she cleared her throat. “It’s been kind of weird being somewhere new again. It’s been almost fifteen years since I moved to LA so it’s just an adjustment.” Having made the decision to take this new role, Nat knew there’d be an adjustment period. But she’d forgotten how it felt to be somewhere new without anyone there with her, welcoming her home each day, exploring the city, visiting local restaurants, and getting acclimated together. Sure, she still had her friends, and she’d see Jamie when he came up every few weeks for meetings, but she was alone. Entirely alone, at the stage in her life where she felt ready to begin thinking about taking the next step. She loved what she did, but was finding it hard to muster the energy to face the next few days sometimes, let alone make it to the final deadline for the projects.  

Chris nodded, his expression sympathetic, but obviously unaware of the true depths of what she was feeling. “I can understand that but I’m sure once you get your apartment all set up and get into your routine, it’ll be better,” he assured her, his voice certain. 

“And my dad is coming to visit next weekend so I’ll maybe get to see around the city when he comes,” she said more to herself than anyone, feeling like having Chris here now and her dad’s visit coming up shortly after was a little lifeline to her while she tried to settle in. 

With a warm smile on his bearded face, Chris replied with, “I’m sure you will, and I can unpack a bunch of your stuff while you’re at work tomorrow.” 

“It’s just hard to adjust. I miss Los Angeles and my friends there and the Disney campus and just the… the life I had there,” Nat’s voice was soft as she stared down at the bit of wax dripping down the lit candle on the table, feeling nothing but disheartened about how things were starting here in San Francisco. 

“I know it’s not easy, especially since it has been so long since you moved but I know you’ll get used to the new place. It’ll be fine, Nattie, just wait and give it time,” he tried to encourage her genuinely. She knew that Chris could see that unsure look on her face, prompting him to go on to point out, “I’m sure when you moved to Los Angeles it wasn’t easy either, but it was worth it because that’s what you wanted to do. Now this is what you want to do so it’ll be worth it too.” 

Their conversation was interrupted when the waiter returned to take their order, and Nat quickly ordered her food before Chris took his time, ordering them a couple different things to share as well. 

She mulled over his words as he ordered, letting them sink in. Nat couldn’t help but begin to wonder if this really was what she wanted to do. With all that had happened between this promotion coming out of the blue, her exhaustion from the past few months of working like crazy, being apart from Chris and then ultimately fighting with him over this job while her family and friends were all encouraging her to take it, had taken its toll on her. This promotion had seemed like the perfect opportunity, it seemed to solve a lot of problems with her schedule and ticked that box in her heart telling her that she had made her family proud and worked hard enough to turn her passion into a full fledged career. 

But moving here and taking on this new job for the past two weeks hadn’t been as fulfilling as she’d expected it to be. She hadn’t woken up excited to go to work like she used to. She hadn’t been bubbling with excitement for her lunch break with her friends as she loaded her tray with the soft serve machine. She hadn’t been able to feel like this place was her home yet… in fact she didn’t even feel like she fit in. But then again, it had only been two weeks. Maybe she just was expecting too much or wanting some lightbulb moment that didn’t really exist. 

She tried to remind herself that what Chris said was probably true, that she just needed time to settle in and get adjusted. In the back of her mind though were those other words Chris said weeks earlier when he told her that this job wasn’t her or what she wanted. She remembered him inferring that she was just getting caught up in wanting to succeed, that she had lost sight of what it was that she wanted. That thought seemed to linger in her mind, wondering if Chris had known her better than she’d known herself in that moment and that maybe deep down this wasn’t the right decision. 

At the lingering thoughts in her mind, the stubborn part of her personality seemed to kick in. Nat knew that this was what she should be doing. This job was the normal path to keep succeeding and moving up, not to mention having better hours and more flexibility moving forward. She was determined to make this work and knew that she just had to try harder to adjust to her new life. This evening though, she didn’t want her thoughts to be consumed by her job, and instead wanted to fixate on the fact that the man she was madly in love with and sitting across the table from her now had been in her life for an entire year. 

“I’m just glad you’re here with me,” she whispered, her voice full of emotion. She reached out over the small table, holding his hand tightly.

“I am too, baby,” he answered easily, a wide grin on his lips as he squeezed her hand tightly. “I certainly never thought that when I said yes to doing Lightyear that I’d not only be getting my dream job, but my dream girl.” 

She huffed out a laugh, shaking her head and rolling her eyes at him as she sarcastically replied, “Yeah I’m really glad I could sweep you off your feet by slamming into that glass door for your first impression of me.” 

“I was pretty hooked on you from day one,” Chris added, his bright blue eyes twinkling in the dim lighting of the restaurant. He leaned back in his seat as he held her hand still, adding, “And I still am.” 

“If you would have told me when we met during that meeting that I’d be sitting across from you celebrating our anniversary, I would have laughed my head off. I would have said there was absolutely no way,” Nat admitted to him. She could have never predicted having any sort of friendship with Chris back when they first – briefly – met during that daily. But through some pull and some way, they’d grown closer, forming a friendship before it eventually evolved into… this. This absolute greatest love she had known and would ever know. 

“I’m pretty glad things worked out the way they did,” he told her, his voice barely above a whisper. He squeezed her hand a few times as he added, “I love you, Nattie.” 

“I love you too, Chris,” she replied easily, knowing she’d never hesitate to tell him that. “And I just keep loving you more.” 

“I hope you know, I’m not planning on this being it. We got a lot more anniversaries to celebrate, for the rest of our lives.”

As Chris spoke those words, Nat knew in her heart that it would be true. Somehow she just knew that they were going to be together because all of this just felt so… right. She knew they were meant for one another and both of them were determined not to let anything get in the way of that again. It felt like so many things were up in the air right now for Nat. She was trying to figure out a new job, settle into a new city, and basically start this new chapter of her life and all of it just seemed so overwhelming. Sometimes she just felt so lost, wondering if this was the right thing to do or how it would play out, but through all of this uncertainty there was one thing in her life that she was completely sure of, and that was Chris.

[frootyloopy]

I'm not nearly as in the Spider-Man fandom as I used to, but have an old one shot of Otto having a giant crush

Trigger warnings: zero

It's a routine for them by now, to sit at their desks and study together. They'd ended up pushing their desks side by side in front of the only window in their room after they'd had to keep turning around to try and ask the other about a question for their shared physics class. He hums along to the record that's quietly playing, Norman having brought his player with him. It's one of Otto's records, as they like to trade off on who gets to pick. He thinks he can't sing for shit, but Norman always tells him he's rather good at it, so he tries to believe him. He feels his train of thought drifting so he forced himself to focus back on his assignment, looking to his notes to figure it out.

"Otto? Are you listening?" He blinks a bit at realizing he's being spoken to, pushing up his glasses as he looks to Norman.

"Yes? Is something wrong?" He asks, wondering why the quiet was broken. He doesn't think he's done anything wrong, thick brows furrowing as he tries to think.

"I've said your name four times, I was thinking you'd gotten lost in your own head again." Norman chuckles, and Otto feels his heart flutter in his chest at the warm sound.

"Apologies, I just got a bit focused, you know how it is." He laughs quietly in response.

"Did you need my help?" He tries to stay on topic, wanting to try and finish his assignment so he can start on his essay for another class.

"I'd like another pair of eyes on this equation, it doesn't seem to be adding up, would you mind?" The blonde brushes a stray lock of hair behind his ear, it having fallen into his face. Otto tries not to stare as he holds out his hand.

"I don't." He takes the paper and looks over the equation, comparing it to his own.

"Oh, I see." He grabs his pencil and points things out as he starts to explain, focusing on explaining it to the best of his ability. It takes a good 10 minutes for Norman to understand his rambling, but as he hands the paper back over with a nod he's taken entirely off guard. "Thank you, Otto, you're quite the good partner." The words have him holding his pencil in a vice grip, struggling to gather any of his thoughts as he goes bright red.

"*E-Excuse me?*" He asks, voice cracking.

"Are you blushing, Octavius?" Norman's got a grin on his face as he looks at him, teeth on display. His incisors are a bit sharp, Otto hadn't noticed that before.

"*I-*" He takes a deep breath and pushes up his glasses to hide his face in a hand.

"*I'm just- I'm quite alright.*" He can't help the pause, it's hard to think with how warm he's gotten over just two words.

"Are you certain? You're awfully red." He tries so hard not to whine at him from his pure embarrassment of realizing how bad his crush is, not wanting to be heard making such a noise. He can't help but think of how Norman might react if he did, he doesn't want to be found out before he can even ask him on a date.

[wacky-nameless-inventor-24]

wooohoooo royalty au stuff :3 part of the 'bad ending'

cw: ptsd, flashbacks, past physical abuse (it's like the main focus of this story ssldkj)

They’d been betrayed. 

Tug.

Lord Gearloose had turned out selfish and manipulative, slowly plotting to overthrow the kingdom.

Tug.

He’d finally acted today. 

Tug.

Mads and the king had been locked in a cell, thrown in with the unconscious Gyro, Cabrera, and Blue. 

Tug.

Blue was sick, they could be heard feebly coughing on the other side of the cell. 

Tug. 

They were too weak to use their magic to stop Gearloose. They’d only have hours to live. 

Tug. 

None of that mattered right now. 

Tug.

Mads was chained to the wall in the back right corner of the cell, on his knees with his wrists in magic-blocking cuffs above his head. He couldn’t focus on anything but getting out of them. 

Tug.

He had to get out of them. 

Being forced to the ground, the back of his shirt being torn open. His wrists grabbed harshly, and tied too tightly to the post above his head. He couldn’t see behind him but he could sense her there, weighing the whip in her hands.

She cracked it once, twice, testing it out. Eleven flinching violently both times, trying to stop his shaking. He wouldn’t let her see she’d won.

All he could do was kneel helplessly as he braced himself for the blows. 

Mads forced his eyes open with a gasp, putting his entire weight into tugging his hands free. His wrists and shoulders already ached, but he couldn’t stop. He hadn’t been in this position since then, and just this feeling was sending panic through him like he’d never felt before. 

He was hyper aware of every feeling against his back, the brush of his shirt on his scars feeling almost painful. It was a repulsing feeling, only making him more urgent in trying to get himself loose. The sooner he got free the sooner he could rid himself of the sensation. 

Tug. 

There was magic crackling around his fingers, the cuffs preventing it from being set loose. His fingertips felt numb, the magic building up there in response to his panic, unable to release itself. 

Mads could faintly hear the others stirring behind him, finally waking up. The scuffling in the straw, the urgent murmuring to each other. He couldn’t concentrate on the words, they were blurred together by the roaring in his ears, the way his heart was beating out of his throat. 

There came a sudden rustling beside him, and next thing Mads knew the king was kneeling next to him. “Mads- Mads, are you alright? You-” 

Fenton put an arm around him. 

Mads shrieked, pulling away from him, whipping out a foot to try and kick Fenton away. Every scar the king had touched now felt as if it were on fire, stinging just as badly as the day it’d been etched in his skin. “Don’t touch me!” 

Fenton fell back and Mads went right back to trying to pull himself free. He barely spared a thought for his partner, having no room around his panic to feel bad for him, to even realize he’d just lashed out at him. All he could focus on was his need to get out of the cuffs. 

The king moved closer to him once more, thankfully not reaching for him. “What’s going on? What do you need?” 

“I need to get out of here,” Mads growled through gritted teeth. 

Fenton tilted his head, trying to meet his gaze, but Mads couldn’t look away from his wrists above him. He gave one extra hard pull, hardly caring as pain shot through his right shoulder. 

“Mads, hold on, stop, you're going to hurt yourself.” Fenton intervened. He moved to put a hand on Mads’ arm, but thought better of it. 

It was too late for that. “Can’t,” he snarled.

“No, Mads, really, hold on a second. We can get you out of here, but you have to stop.” 

“Can’t.” This was all he could focus on. He had to keep actively fighting or the memories caught up. He knew his hands wouldn’t be able to slide through the metal manacles, but he wasn’t thinking rationally. The flashbacks were all too consuming. 

“Why not?” 

There was too much to explain, and he didn’t have the thoughts or the words to do so. So Mads just ignored him, hardly noticing when Fenton’s hand rested on his shoulder. “Mads, you have to stop or I’m going to make you. You’re going to hurt yourself like this.” 

Mads still couldn’t look at him, still couldn’t stop long enough to string together a coherent sentence. “Don’t touch my back.” The stinging was fading, but each brush of his shirt only made it worse. 

“Oh,” he could sense Fenton hesitating, finally putting things together. “What about this… reminds you of that?”

“Same position.” Mads had to say everything as quickly as possible, trying not to divert his attention from his task. “Can’t stop.” 

“Would it help if you stood up?” Fenton suggested. “Would that be different?” 

“Don’t know.” 

“Can you stand?” 

Why couldn’t Fenton understand that he couldn’t do anything but this? If he were able to slow down and think through how to get out of it he already would’ve by now. But he couldn’t, and he had to ignore Fenton’s questions if they were going to continue to distract him. 

The king let out a breath. “Alright, we’ll get you up and see what happens. You- come over here and help him stand.” 

More rustling, and Fenton was talking to him once more. “Mads, I don’t know if we can get you up with you pulling like this. Do you think you can…” 

His voice faded out in Mads’ head as he sensed someone standing behind him, and every one of his feathers stood on end. He glanced back, catching a glimpse of Cabrera standing there, looking anxiously for instructions or a way to help. 

Mads squeezed his eyes shut, taking a breath and giving one extra hard yank on his cuffs. It was just Cabrera, it was just Cabrera it was just-

“Don’t stand behind him like that!” The king snapped, effectively breaking Mads from his spiral as well. He opened his eyes and continued pulling. Like a dog on the end of a chain, putting everything he had into it. Placing all of his weight on his wrists in the manacles.

“Sorry! Sorry, I-”

Fenton cut the merchant off. “Get on his other side, we’ll try doing it by his arms. Whatever you do, don't touch his back.” 

“Yes, sire.” Cabrera appeared in the right corner of Mads’ vision, standing between him and the wall.

“Hey, Mads.” Fenton was talking to him again, distracting him again. Despite this, Mads tried to listen. “Did you hear me? I don’t think we can get you up if you’re pulling. Do you think you can stop for just five seconds? We can count it out with you.” 

Mads swallowed, pulling again. He didn’t know. 

“Will you try?”

He managed a nod. 

“Let’s try then.” First he felt Fenton’s firm hands on his right arm and shoulder, ready to haul him up. Next came the more hesitant grip on his right side, Cabrera still uncertain of whether he should touch him. “Ready?” 

Mads nodded again, taking a deep breath. Letting his arms go slack, no longer fighting. He could do this. 

Just as he did so, Fenton began counting. “Five, four, three, two…” 

On four, Mads felt himself being lifted on either side. The strain hurt his already aching shoulders, but besides that he was suspended rather smoothly. He hung there for a moment before realizing he needed to put his feet down and stand, and he was properly upright by the time Fenton got to one. 

Oh. This was much better. 

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, his legs shaky and his heart still pounding. He wasn’t sure if he could hold himself up, and allowed himself to fall sideways against Fenton. The king was quick to support him. “How is this?” 

“Better,” Mads managed, eyes closed. “Good.” 

“Good,” he leaned his head against Mads’. “Thank you.” 

That was evidently meant for Cabrera, as the duck replied. “Of course, your Majesty. Happy to help.” Mads could feel him leave, avoiding walking directly behind the assassin until he was a few feet away. Whether he didn’t want to be snapped at again or was trying to be considerate Mads didn’t know, but he smiled faintly. 

“Are you able to stand on your own?” Fenton murmured. 

Mads nodded, pulling away and lifting his head. “I am now.” He’d needed a moment to adjust. 

“Come here,” Fenton ducked beneath his arm to stand in front of him, between his arms and between Mads and the wall. His own cuffed hands prevented him from hugging the assassin properly, so he settled for looping his arms up around Mads’ neck, holding him close. Mads immediately hugged him as tight as his cuffs would allow, resting his chin on the king’s shoulder. 

Mads closed his eyes, permitting himself to slow down. Taking deep breaths, feeling Fenton’s heart beating against his own. He was with Fenton, and he was alright. He wasn’t in danger, he had never been in danger, and now things were better. Standing chained to the wall wasn’t the greatest of positions, but it was a big step up from the traumatic kneeling. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, burying his beak in the king’s cape.

“What for?” Fenton’s voice was just as soft, not wanting the others to overhear. Mads could hear them talking quietly to each other, generously giving Mads and Fenton space. 

“I overreacted.” It was easy to see that now, as his shaking stopped. “We have so much going on right now and that was such a small thing to get upset over, especially when it was so easily fix-” 

“Hey, no.” Fenton held him tighter. “It’s completely understandable you reacted the way you did. I apologize if I made you feel like it was inconsequential.” 

“No, no.” Mads took another deep breath. “You were just trying to get through to me, I appreciate it. Thank you.” 

“Of course.” 

“I-I haven’t been in a position like that since the last time I was whipped, I didn’t realize it would be so bad. I’m sorry I kicked out at you like that, I wasn’t thinking straight and I-” 

“Hey,” there were fingers gently brushing through the feathers on the back of his neck. “You don’t need to apologize, I should’ve been more careful with where I was touching you, and you didn’t even hit me. I’m glad this helped.” 

“Me too.” Mads breathed. “Thank you.” 

Fenton tried to pull away, to lean back and look at him properly, but Mads refused to let him go. Squeezing his eyes shut and holding him tighter, he could feel the king give in with a soft chuckle. “I’m not going anywhere, I just want to see if your wrists are alright.” 

Mads squeezed him tightly one last time before letting go, and the king lifted his arms from around his neck. “How are your shoulders?” 

The assassin shrugged, then immediately regretted it. “They’re strained, my right feels extra sore, but I’ll be alright.” 

Fenton reached up to feel the area, and Mads couldn’t stop his laughter. “My right, Fen.” 

“Ah,” the king switched sides. “Does it hurt if I touch it?”

“Don’t think so,” Mads tilted his head to give him more room. “The massaging feels nice.”

Fenton continued rubbing the area before pulling away. “I’ll get back to that. What about your elbows?” 

“They’re fine.” 

“Your back?” 

Mads hesitated. “Sensitive. But… but it’s okay.” 

The king simply nodded before twisting around, still staying between Mads’ arms, leaning his back into the assassin’s chest. He lifted Mads’ left hand, sliding the manacle back as far as he could to inspect his wrist. Mads peered over his shoulder. 

Many feathers had been rubbed off by the cuff, the skin beneath raw and already visibly bruising. Fenton gently touched space just beneath his palm. “Are they strained badly?” 

“No.” Mads tucked his beak beneath the king’s chin. “There was nothing pulling on my fingers, so it’s not bad.” 

“Hm,” Fenton let go, and Mads wrapped his arms around him. “Well, don’t strain them too much, and be careful with the cuffs. More rubbing could make it worse.”

Mads knew that, but he realized Fenton was just trying to help in the ways he could. “I’ll try.” He took a deep breath. “Any ideas for how we’ll get out of here? How’s Blue?” 

“Cabrera’s with them. I don’t think they’re awake yet.” Fenton murmured, resting his head back against Mads’ shoulder. “I don’t know what to do now.”

“We’ll figure it out.” Mads kissed his temple. “Gearloose won’t get away with this.” 

The king’s voice was surprisingly dark when he replied. “No he won’t.”

[selenemoonlite]

✧.* HOMEBDY || Hajun Yeon × OC

SYNOPSIS: Starting to question where their bond lies... hitting on their private room inside the club without no one is looking. Their friends and fans might be suspicious of the two of you getting comfortable with each other. Away from the noisy rave, the breath of intoxicating cigarettes, people drinking and chattering; what's left between the tension folds? "What are we?" Is the question to this desirable feeling of uncertainty that you wish to fade... Tags: drugs, fwb, situationships, mentions of alcohol, foreplay, rough sex, semi-bondage, mutual stimulation, edging, one-night stand turned sneaky link, drama, psychological matters, familial issues notes: no beta reads! This is a oc × canon story, dark contents will be present in this prompt by the following tags, and korean or any foreign words in the story. Based on the song "HOMEBDY" by DEMÍ ft. slimedemidemislime & Madman Stan

╰┈➤ ii: Act Tough ✧.*

"Follow me, I'll take you somewhere you'll be satisfied to hate me more."

Those words struck in her mind as Hajun guided her towards the secluded room in the bar. Letitia had conflicting emotions about entering this room, knowing it was commonly used for intimate encounters. As they entered, Hajun firmly grasped her wrist, pulling her further into the room. Letitia couldn't help but feel a slight unease about the situation.

The room itself, designed for passionate encounters, exuded an ambiance that heightened anticipation. The mix of purple and pink neon lights created a seductive atmosphere, with a large bed positioned in the center. There were also numerous concealed items to discover in this area. It reminded Letitia of the love hotels all over here within the district. Despite her nerves, Letitia had a sense of what kind of place she was in as Hajun locked the door behind them.

But, this is a consensual one-night stand, right?

She couldn't figure out the mood Hajun was in after a petty argument.

"You're serious?"

"Did I back down to that?"

Letitia crouched shutting her lips tight. Hajun persisted. Luckily, his polite mannerism still keeps to his rude demeanor.

"Like I said, forget what I said. Wouldn't be stupid of me to hear it from you? Yes, this is petty."

He knows? Good thing. The female rapper chided his statement. Unattainable to speak her mind.

SLAM—!

"H-hey, Hajun—"

Letitia's heart raced as Hajun's lips met hers in a fiercely kiss. Despite her shock and confusion, she couldn't deny the intensity of their connection. It was a clash of emotions, a mix of fear, anger, and desire that consumed her.

She resisted at first, trying to push him away, but his grip on her hands only tightened, anchoring her in place. His lips moved against hers, their mouths melding in a dance of dominance and submission. It was a battle of wills, and in that moment, Letitia found herself losing.

Her body responded to his touch, her own desires conflicting with her instinct to fight against him. Hajun's forceful kiss ignited a fire within her, awakening a side of herself she never knew existed. It was as if his passion was infectious, overwhelming her senses and clouding her judgment.

As the kiss deepened, Letitia felt her resistance crumbling. Her hands gradually relaxed in Hajun's hold, a surrender of both her physical and emotional defiance. His lips explored every inch of her mouth, claiming her in a way that both terrified and exhilarated her.

Time seemed to stop as they clung to each other, lost in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Letitia couldn't ignore the undeniable chemistry between them, the undeniable pull she felt towards him. Despite the circumstances that brought them together, she couldn't deny the electrifying connection they shared.

As Letitia's hands were set on his chest that made him hurled a moan.

The sensations that Hajun is feeling through his mind — there may be a potential romantic or sexual tension between him and Letitia. However, despite having many fangirls and being known for his flirtatious nature, Hajun respects boundaries and understands the difference between being a flirt and a fuckboy. He doesn't want to engage in casual relationships or take advantage of his fans' desires. Hajun values his popularity and knows that there is a limit to how far his fans can fantasize about being with him. As a confident man, he seeks a genuine connection with someone, rather than just satisfying sexual needs and intentions.

But a different feeling is such an immense exclusivity in his case towards Letitia.

Their passionate and fiery kisses had a magnetic pull, with their feet grazing the floor— Hajun pushed her onto the edge of the bed. As his hands left her body, a soft thud endured her. He then discarded his jacket, which had fallen to the floor. the fire in their passion was growing. Both rapper leaving themselves breathless, Letitia knew that their journey was far from over. Hajun's hate for her still simmered beneath the surface, and she couldn't forget the danger that lurked in his eyes. Yet, she couldn't deny the undeniable truth that her heart had already been captivated by this ruthless man.

"H-hajun..."

He darts down at her. With a slight creak, Hajun bends on one knee. Leaning his figure closer to her, huffing.

"You look helpless..." a blunt comment came from his sharp voice.

Letitia's eyes drooped slightly, and her breath became shallow with each raspy pant. She could see her own reflection in Hajun's moist pink eyes and her cheeks grew increasingly flushed with every second. Hajun's presence was overpowering, causing Letitia's every sense to heighten in intensity.

"You..."

He takes off his glasses placing them on the counter table beside the bed before returning a glance.

Being taunted by Letitia's shaking voice, the blonde only peered a sly smirk, "Yes, me? Shush..."

A cocky answer to pull off, the female rapper couldn't hesitate any longer as her body was pressed down by his weight. Hajun's face leaned, his straight bangs almost touching her forehead with a peering smirk.

Words were unimportant, replies were unnecessary, and answers unnecessary in this moment of ecstasy. Hajun's eyes gazed her covered body with an alluring intensity, and the dim pink and purple light filled the room with the ambience of intimate pleasure. His thoughts drifted towards the reality of the situation — this was his first time alone with Letitia, and she looked like a goddess, inviting him to take her in.

His hand slipped through her unruly hair and gently removed a few strands from around her neck. With a slow and deliberate motion, he moved his hand down to her blazer, which she had not yet taken off.

Hajun began kissing her neck intently, lapping at every inch of soft skin he could find. Letitia let out a gasp and stiffened her body in response. Hajun continued his lavish kisses and moved down her body, caressing her sensitive skin. Letitia tried to wiggle away but was unable to move while Hajun pinned her body down under his own weight.

"Behave, you puppy..."

"H-ha— cruel—"

"What a meek response, Heidi... don't take it too personal."

This is only for the night... this is only for once... no more

After a momentary pause, Hajun finally managed to unzip her blazer, exposing her body. Letitia's legs were lifted wearing fishnet stockings, and Hajun was losing control.

Letitia coiled, moaning in his attempts to expose her. The shivering sensation dwells her body, is she about to give in?

Despite this alluring and tempting offer, Hajun wondered if he should resist. His self-control was wavering, and he was at war with his desires

Fuck, what am I even doing?

"Hajun? Are you okay?"

The battle between reason and desire waged inside Hajun's head. Why was he hating her while wanting her so much? Why was he allowing himself to be vulnerable in front of her and lose control? Hajun tried to keep his mind yelling that he was being petty and envious and that he was letting his pride take away all of his accomplishments. But his body was responding to her aura, and he was struggling to stay in control.

"I'm sorry...Letitia—"

"H-huh?"

"I said I'm sorry... I got carried away."

In an unexpected moment, Hajun looked away from Letitia's blue eyes, pausing his advance. It was a petty move to drag her into this mess, and it wasn't a good excuse to completely confuse the Filipino rapper. The underlying fact that she would soon explore Hajun more completely took Letitia by surprise. But the hate that had eaten away at him started to get out of control, and the way he was treating her was puzzling and inappropriate.

Letitia stands up firmly, dragging her blazer to cover her intimate parts that were exposed. Her wave of anger slaps Hajun across the face.

"If you weren't being a jerk bringing me here?! Hajun what— you're shameless!"

Hajun realized that his massive ego has clouded his judgment yet again. That he had been an utter jackass for dragging Letitia into this mess simply because of his overwhelming hate and insecurities. He knows that he can't be open with her because his vulnerable side is something he feared to share. The pain on his face where she had slapped him had subsided, but he was left with a lingering feeling of shame. It was indeed impossible to claim his openness if he were always worried about taking advantage of Letitia.

It was all for him to cover his faults, in fact.

As the night slowly gave way to morning, the quiet streets at the university were broken by the usual limousine that Hajun rode in alongside Allen and Anne. Hajun's smile and charming aura were concealed by his aloofness, as he was trying to suppress his thoughts about what had happened with Letitia. Allen suddenly started asking Hajun questions, and the Korean rapper remained stoic and reserved in his responses, refusing to share his thoughts and feelings about what had happened.

"Hey, what happened between the two of you?"

"Hm? Yes?"

"I mean you and Letitia last night?"

For a moment of silence, Hajun only arched a brow at the phoenix hip-hop genius.

"Personal matter... it is something only me and Letitia's to know."

"Hm, fair enough... you were acting kinda firm with her lately. Something came up?"

He sighs trying to convict his own temperance at Allen's question knowing the fact he did an odd mistake to her.

"I've handled it fine... just to say she and I had it pretty crucial with the discussions. Not to mention she did gave me a feedback, impulsively."

Anne's eyes met Hajun's last response which this became unsettling for them. They quipped to join in the talk between the two.

"Hajun, just what did the two of you were last night?" A hint of concern conveyed Anne's voice asking the blonde.

Hajun was unable to entertain Allen and Anne as he remained silent in his aloofness. Even though the usual fangirls surrounded the car, Hajun remained hidden in his persona as a popular guy around the school. The Korean rapper was lost in his thoughts about Letitia, feeling uncertainty about the closeness he felt with her last night. It was strange how this woman had given him a strange warmth and sensation, and he couldn't understand why he felt this way.

"I'm concerned about Hajun... but as usual he is still being him by that princely manner." Anne said taking her sentiments to Allen as they walked pass the gates.

"He isn't the type to be rough on girls, well Letitia and Hajun were pretty formal in their previous encounters."

"I doubt that, Allen. He never mentions such change in their connection since you and her greeted. What gives?"

"Ask Letitia about it?" Allen then confided Anne.

"Ah, as much as I look like a gossiper around. I don't jump into anyone's personal dilemmas, unless...."

"Unless what?"

Anne was perplexed by their surroundings, having difficulty articulating a thought that would pierce the silence between the three of them. They brushed off the issue, realizing it was not their business to intervene in Hajun's complicated feelings towards Letitia. However, their curiosity continued to linger; they could sense something was amiss, and they wished they could do something to help. Allen felt similarly, feeling powerless and unable to truly address the elephant in the room.

"Unless, they know themselves first how to settle it on their own. Come on, Allen I'm also jumping into conclusions with them, in hindsight... they can talk with it."

Allen can accept their reassurance, however, being a long and trusted friend he is to him. He better knows what is really going on.

He had kept his shallowness for long as I can remember. When to grow up and show it like how you mean it, Hajun? Letitia is also a good friend, they may had a confrontation, perhaps?

Frightened by the thought of confronting him, Allen quickly dismissed his thoughts. He knew that he had to focus on the live battle, and he didn't have time to dwell on the situation. As they approached the classroom, Hajun was walking ahead of them, and Allen tried to compose himself and focus on the upcoming battle.

(To be continued)

✧.* @.moonartemisia 2023 || do not copy my works

╰┈➤ masterlist navigation ✧.* || prev. chapter || chapter three

[ravenzeppeli]

Permanence |Yandere Mista x Reader Angst|

Warning: physical violence mention, threats, unhealthy relationship, emotional abuse, manipulation.

      “If you ever decide to hurt me or break up with me I would cut off your right hand as punishment,” Mista muttered as you entered his room, his dark bottomless eyes focused on the video game that was in front of him, his fingers going to work on the controller. “I got the idea when we got into that fight last night, I know you did not threaten to leave me, but you could have, and I won’t allow that.”

       You sat down next to him on his bed, your eyes on not the screen but him. You turned to face him, watching him as his eyes stayed steady on the screen, his dark eyebrows raised in concentration. “What happens if you ever decide to leave me?” You questioned softly, placing your hands in your lap, staring at your right hand. Leave him? You couldn’t possibly ever dream of that. You were a loner like him - that was what brought the two of you together.

        The ones who sat at the back of the classroom so nobody would talk to them, the ones who were never quite able to get close to anyone until his dark eyes locked onto yours one day as you walked down the hallway. Rows and rows of people walking side by side, friends and lovers, siblings and enemies - everyone had someone except for the two of you. Then one day the two of you had each other, when Mista approached you and asked you to eat lunch with him you found someone to cure your loneliness, despite him having.. unhealthy tendencies.

      You’ve never had anyone obsessed with you or even remotely interested in you so it was a lot to get use to, always having your mobster boyfriend stalking behind you, never giving you a single moment of space. He even waited for you outside of the girls' bathroom when you needed to go to school, and he always snuck into your window at night. He went from being a stranger to being everywhere in a matter of days. You didn’t do anything to stop it.. you were too afraid of being alone again.

      Once you got a taste of love, a feeling of what it was like to have someone to talk with and spend time with, you couldn’t imagine what it would be like to live without it. When you’ve been lonely for so long, you grow desperate, clinging to the idea of having someone no matter what the price may be. The price could be your hand, but he had only ever pushed you and forced you to stay at his home.. he had never threatened you like that before. What was with him?

      A low chuckle escaped his full lips as he paused his game, sitting the controller on the floor as he turned his body to face yours, sitting cross-legged. “I am never going to leave you, I am in love with you, and I only want you. I don’t care if you don’t love me either. It won’t change how I feel.”

      You turned to face him well, copying the way he was sitting, your hands now resting at your sides, pressing into the soft mattress. “Isn’t threatening to cut off my hand a little cruel, Mista? It’s unsettling when you speak to me like this or hit me. Can we just be a normal couple like the ones in school? I don’t think hitting is normal.” You’ve never been in a relationship, but it wasn’t like this in the movies at all.

        “Babe, hitting is completely normal when you’re the one in the wrong. As the one in charge in our relationship, I hold the authority. You never see these kinds of things in school because these matters should always be handled privately,” he spoke to you calmly, a small but awkward smile appearing on his lips as he raised his palm, placing it on top of your head. “Besides, I'm dropping out of school. I'm in the mafia now, fuck school. Once you graduate in a few months you can move in with me. I'll cut your leg off if you don't."

       “Why would you want to cut my leg off? Wouldn’t that kill me?” You questioned, staring into his calm dark eyes as he spoke about cutting your body parts off. You’ve never mentioned leaving him and despite thinking about it you’re too much of pussy to actually leave him. These threats should be sending you running but he was saying that the two of you had a normal relationship- did you? “Why would you do that to me?” You were uncertain. How could you know?

        “I would cut your leg off so that you would always be fully dependent on me to take care of you. Without a hand, you could still take care of yourself, but without a leg, you would never be able to leave my side,” he said calmly, his hand staying on top of your head. “But I know that you wouldn’t leave me, right? Without me, you would be all alone again with nobody to love you. Is that what you want?” He tilted his head to the side, a few dark strands of hair sticking out from his beanie.

       You shook your head, “I don’t want to be alone again. You don’t have to worry about me leaving, you won’t have to cut off my hand or my leg so just please relax.” You reached a hand forward, gently but still so awkwardly rubbing his knee. “You have no need to worry. I care about you, and you also scare me, so I won’t be leaving any time soon.” You were always completely honest with him. He wouldn’t hit you for being honest unless it insulted himself.

       “Good, I am glad that I have installed some fear in you. Hold onto that fear and remember that those were not threats but promises, and you will get no second chance. You will just suffer,” he said, finally removing his hand from your head, his warm hand covering yours. “Also, if I cut off your leg, it will not kill you. I’ve already researched everything. Why would I ever kill my girlfriend?” He kept his head tilted to the side, his small smile growing wider, a sinister grin appearing on his lips. He was a predator, and you were his prey.. you knew that now.

       “Whatever you want, that is fine with me. I’ll just listen and be happy that I’m with you,” you said, a small amount of fakeness in your tone that he and yourself would never speak on. Guido Mista was your boyfriend, and he was going to be your boyfriend for the rest of his life. You didn’t know what this was, but you knew one thing - you weren’t alone anymore, and you never would be again.