#she's v excited and also v concerned about the process and how it is being performed

[just-aro]

(sending an ask instead of making my own post because i'm not out on main) shoutout to aros who grew up in orphanages and/or foster care and were never adopted. the idea of family is so important to a lot of people and most narratives surrounding people with little family from childhood are about making your own family through amatonormative ideas of romance. if this is you (general), i hope you find belonging and comfort in whatever types of relationships you choose.

^^^

[atrwriting]

more, more, more — carmy x reader

carmen berzatto x coworker!reader

listen to me. this man? this man?? so fucking slutty. so fucking slutty i can’t even think straight. i am absolutely AGHAST at how little writing there is of this man online. absolutely OUTRAGEOUS. he looks like that and none of us have done his character justice?? DISGRACEFUL.

i wrote this in direct response to how angry i am at how little there is.

as always, warnings… SMUT!, alcohol consumption, alcohol consumption with sex, smoking, p in v penetration, work relationships, overstimulation, carmen berzatto being an absolute mind blowing fuck on a table i mean in bed

also, minors fuck RIGHT the fuck off

barely edited we die like men

i stole that joke don’t come for me

anyway....

you didn’t really know how it happened.

you were once an unemployed law student, scared of drowning in bills, and eagerly awaiting a call back from anyone that would hire you — when she called.

natalie berzatto.

her voice was warm and comforting on the phone, and very eager to have you come in. she was relaying important information to you on the phone, and while you grabbed bits and pieces, it was hard to focus on anything else besides the sheer excitement of finally having a job. the job would be stressful, sure — but at least you wouldn’t be broke and stressed.

unfortunately, your first couple of shifts were a mess and a half. you took instructions well, and performed well, but in the hospitality business — that means nothing when an oven burner is out, a dishwasher doesn’t show up for a shift, richie starts barking, or when carmen’s upset.

carmen.

fucking carmen.

while soft spoken, there was nothing that could compare to the look of approval in his eye when you had completed a task to his standard. most people would consider the job of a hostess useless, or not a job at all — something to laugh at, but carmen? no. that man took your job very seriously, as he knew what it meant to provide the full experience to the customer.

however, when something was lacking in the kitchen and that experience was interrupted… carmen took the look of approval, almost gratefulness, away and replaced it with something that everyone felt like they had to walk around shards of glass.

when he was angry? oh, fuck… that could ruin anyone’s night.

the worst of it happened when his sister unexpectedly went into labor. two weeks early.

carmen had left the place screaming, and, in the process, had also left his things at the restaurant, including his jacket, wallet, keys, the lot — so to be nice you went to drop it off at his place. worried that he might be at the hospital, you texted him.

you: hey, going out for a drink. saw you forgot your stuff at the restaurant so i grabbed it because you’re otw. you home?

carmen: oh shit thanks. i’m home

so there you stood. at his front door, his stuff in hand.

you quickly adjusted your long hair, worried about your appearance. it was weird to show up to carmen’s place in your regular attire — seeing as though your regular attire on a night with your friends was black flare jeans, a tight black long sleeve v-neck that showed off your cleavage — you were concerned that he might be concerned with who he exactly employed. however, his niece was just born… he had more important things to worry about.

so you knocked.

and barely waited.

carmen was barely at the door a few seconds later before you came face to face with the man who constantly let exhaustion ride on his back.

“you good?” you immediately asked, handing over his stuff.

he nodded. “yeah, uh — thanks.”

“you look like you could use a drink,” you laughed. “want to come with?”

he shook his head, the corners of his lips somewhat curving upwards. “nah. day was hectic. you want one? come in — for a drink?”

you smiled. “i don’t want to intrude, especially after the berzatto family excitement of the day.”

“i owe you,” he sighed. “but don’t let me hold you up if your friends are waiting.”

you smiled. “one drink won’t hurt.”

one drink definitely did not hurt.

drink two and three definitely didn’t, either.

how much carmen made you laugh definitely made your stomach hurt, though. in a good way.

“you’re killing me,” you cackled. “who knew quiet carmen berzatto was such a good host.”

“you can call me carmy, y’know,” he spoke, saying his cigarette before pouring you another drink. “everyone else does.”

you shrugged. “you’re pretty professional in the kitchen. didn’t want to impose.”

“i don’t think you could impose a day in your life,” he chuckled. “i think you’re the only one that knows boundaries in that fuckin’ place.”

“says the mysterious one,” you giggled. “the only reason any of us know your nicknames is because richie likes to share your baby stories.”

“speaking of babies…” he took a drag. “thank you for helping sugar out so much. she told me to tell you how much she appreciates it.”

you shrugged. “‘s nothing.”

“nothing?” he scoffed. “you keep her sane. definitely keep me sane.”

“always got your back, chef,” you giggled.

he smiled, and ashed his cigarette once more. his long, thick fingers stretched around the circumference of his glass. one fingertip tapped against the glass and a few droplets of condensation fell to his countertop.

you were twisted around in your seat to face carmen, eyeing his attractive hands. in your peripheral vision, you saw him lift his head to cock it towards you and stare at you. the longing look sent shivers up your spine, but you gazed at him through your long lashes as you waited for his response.

“you do,” he spoke. “always have. we were lucky to find you. i - i was, i mean.”

“more like i was lucky get a call from natalie,” you laughed. “it’s so hard to find a well paying job nowadays.”

“heard,” he rasped. “you happy at the bear?”

“very,” you replied. “staff keeping you happy, chef?”

he chuckled. “when i’m not made to scream, yeah.”

“that’s fair. we’re lucky to have you.”

there was only so many things you could think of to say to carmen before you began to consider that you were imposing. you slapped your hands against your thighs — a implicit signal it was time for you to go. he led you to the door, where he reached out for your coat. you smiled at him, thanked him for the drink, and slid your arms through the jacket as he held it out for you.

you don’t know what caused you to, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was you — or maybe it was how good carmen smelled — but you glanced up and over your shoulder at the polite man behind you.

you didn’t have anything to say. frankly, you said something last — it was his turn. however, carmen’s sense of societal expectations started and ended with the door to the kitchen. but there, by his front door? basically holding you by the shoulders, and staring back down at you? he had nothing to say.

however… his eyes could share a thousand things about him. more specifically, emotions. carmen’s eyes showed exhaustion, a bit of dehydration, to keep it a buck, but there was so much intensity in those crystal irises. they were a stunning, clear blue… but with the way carmen was gazing down at you, there appeared to be no clear thought in his head.

and he did nothing.

so you could do nothing.

you found yourself disappointed at his actions, or rather — lack thereof.

you simply smiled, and went to turn away. you reached for his door knob, when you felt the slightest brush of calloused fingers against the skin of your wrist. the feeling shocked you, pricking at your nerves, but you didn’t stop until you felt those fingers enclose around the circumference of your wrist.

like they had with the glass, moments ago.

you turned back, letting your long and thick eyelashes ghost over your line of sight. all you could see was a frozen chef, standing tired, but staring back at you.

when his gaze fell to the floor, you stepped closer. he glanced up.

you felt the heat rise to your cheeks as you softly asked, “what’s up, carmy?”

“first time i had someone over.” his parted lips closed so he could swallow, and his eyes drifted between your lips and the floor. the words were right there, on his tongue. they were so close you could feel them, taste them. he replied, “i, um… don’t want it to end, uh — i guess.”

you smiled and turned around in place, barely inches from his face. his breaths were pushing past his lips in small, light puffs that hit the tip of your chin. it was like he was conscious of everything he was emitting; his vibe, where he was looking, even his fucking exhales. he was cautious and frozen and all you wanted was for him to be relaxed, or as close to, as he was moments ago.

“already drank you out of house and home, carmy. what else you got in mind?”

his eyes widened, but his voice stayed level. “what else i got in mind?”

you hummed in agreement with a coy smile on your face. you folded your lip between your teeth and stepped backwards. carmy glanced at your hips and feet hesitantly, shifting his weight slightly. while his eyes were trained on you, his parted lips quivered slightly which told you that there was still some nervousness lingering in him. with every step you took, carmy took one as well. you kept stepping backwards, and carmy kept stepping forwards, until your back was pressed against the wall.

carmy’s lips weren’t slightly quivering anymore. there was no hesitation in his figure when he leaned down slightly and rested a flat palm against the drywall above your head. his breath was hitting you on both cheeks — as if they weren’t hot enough already. inside you were screaming. you were screaming, and screaming, and screaming and all you wanted to do was grab both sides of his face and smash your lips to his. you wanted to, but you wouldn’t. you wanted to see if he would.

“you know,” you spoke, raising your back. your cold palm pressed against his cheek. it was burning — almost as bad as yours. “even though you’re the boss… never seen you actually taste anything.”

“no?” he rasped. the gruffness in his voice pricked at your cheeks and went straight to your core. “and what do you want me to taste, sweetheart?”

you released your grip from his cheek and brought your hand down to your face. with a manicured nail, you tapped the plumpness of your bottom lip. you stared into his eyes — a dare.

“fuck.”

with his free hand, carmen wrapped your hand in his own and pressed it to the middle of his chest. he held it there, pressed against his heart, and surprisingly it was the exact spot you wanted to hold him. you wanted to hear — no, feel his heart that was beating slightly faster than normal. when carmen finally pressed his chapped lips against yours… you saw stars.

the alcohol coursing through your veins made you melt into the man before you. his hand on the wall slid down until he was rubbing the side of your neck, and then gripping the base of your skull. his fingers, his beautiful, skillful fingers threaded through your hair like it was one of his pieces of art and he was creating something. he twisted your strands until he had your head bent back, practically supported by the heavy palm of his hand. the motion made you gasp into his mouth. carmen swallowed it whole. every. last. bit.

“y’taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he moaned against your lips.

you hummed with him. the warmth of his body engulfed your body into his until the moment started and ended with carmen anthony berzatto. you could taste the liquor on his tongue that danced with your own. with every breath he took, bits of smoke would linger between the two of you. it went straight to your head, swallowing your senses whole. you didn’t know if it was the alcohol, the cigarettes, or carmen himself, but you felt like you were swimming.

“this okay, sweetheart?” he asked, pulling away for a second. a thumb of his stroked the skin of your cheek as he stared at you, waiting for feelings of regret from you. “d-do you want me to stop?”

“please don’t stop, carmy,” you gasped, pulling him back into. “you’re perfect.”

you didn’t expect that would make carmen slide his hands down your body and grasp the back of your thighs. his fingertips pressed into your skin, pulling your legs up and around his waist. you squealed against his teeth and couldn’t believe you had found yourself in this situation.

it’s not that carmen wasn’t handsome, no. the man was drop dead gorgeous in a tortured artist way, and you always had a thing for men that looked like they needed a hug but wouldn’t admit it. but… he was your boss.

what could you do about that? it’s not like you could stop now. even if you had told him to stop, got your shit and left — the damage was done. you both had crossed the boundaries, and you were going to reap what you sewed.

in that case… might as well have a little fun with it.

he had placed you on a neighboring table. his large hands gripped the flesh of your thighs and you couldn’t help but whine into his embrace. his tongue glided over your lips and teeth and with your tongue in the messiest way possible and all you could chant in your head was more, more, more.

and that’s when you found yourself pulling at the bottom of his t-shirt.

he stepped back slightly, throwing his shirt over his head. his swollen lips were parted, and his eyes searched your face. you found your chest rising and falling with anticipation, and realized you should’ve been more concerned with how he was dealing with all of this.

“you okay, carmy?” you whispered.

he nodded, letting a few fingertips of his ghost over the skin of your cheek. his crystal eyes glanced down to your lips.

“we can stop, you know,” you whispered again. “it’s okay.”

he nodded again before dipping his head down to the side of your neck. his plump lips left wet kisses on the sensitive skin and you moaned into the open air. you widened the space between your knees, allowing for carmen to wedge himself between your thighs.

“you’re always talking such good care of me, sweetheart, so good to me,” he rasped against your throat, sucking on the skin. “but all i want to do right now is have my fingers inside you. y’gonna let me?”

“yes, carmy,” you whined. “yes please.”

“such a polite girl f’me.” carmy’s mouth was attacking your throat. moans escaped passed your lips like carmy was squeezing them from you, claiming them. his fingers traveled down the front of your clothes and stopped at the button of your jeans. sliding it open, carmen berzatto slipped his perfect hands into your jeans.

“right there, please,” you gasped once his fingers found your bundle of nerves.

his fingers dipped into your core and spread it all over where you needed him most. warmth began to spread through your hips and your knees widened for him. his drew circles different ways until he noticed that when he drew counterclockwise circles, you bit your lip and your eyes appeared to involuntarily flutter shut. you felt carmy smirk against the skin of your neck.

“what made you this wet, baby?” he hummed, sucking at the base of your throat.

“you, carmy,” you whined. “felt it as soon as i saw you when i first walked in. needed you so badly.”

he smirked again. “so bringing my things wasn’t of the purest intentions?”

heat rose to your cheeks with the sensual actions that were taking place below the belt and carmy’s accusation. you grew worried at what he would say if you said no, that you honestly just wanted to help him out… but if carmy wanted to play like that, you could play.

“n-no,” you whined as the pleasure began to spread throughout your whole body.

carmy was holding you so close to him. it was like he was your support — supporting you through such a physically vulnerable moment. your legs were practically shaking at this point, trying to take everything he was giving you and not start sobbing. you were grabbing at any piece of him you, wanting to kiss him — but he wouldn’t let you. fucking bastard.

“good,” he stated, staring you dead in the eyes. your mouth fell open at his response, a pant pushing passed your lips. “i don’t have the purest of intentions when i do this.”

carmen berzatto slid two long, thick fingers inside you ever so slowly. the motion pulled small moans out of you like you were a pathetic mess of a puddle and the sun rose and set with him. you felt his fingertips press against the upper wall inside you, while another finger worked at your clit, and all you could do was hold onto him tighter.

“it feels so good, carmy,” you whined. “i love your fingers so, so much.”

“yeah, baby?” he breathed against your ear. “you wanna cum f’me?”

“faster, please, i will,” you sobbed. you fucking sobbed as the tapping motion inside you hastened. “oh god — oh my fucking god —“

“that’s it, sweetheart? that’s what you needed?”

“yes, yes — fucking — fuck — yes.”

“f-fuck —“ he groaned broken, incoherent phrases against your throat. his breath was hot and heavy on your skin and all you could think about was how good he felt inside of you, and also how badly you wanted all of him inside you. interrupting your thoughts, he spoke, “show me how good it feels, baby. finish all over my fingers f’me.”

that broke you.

that fucking broke you.

it was like a shock of lightning hit you straight in your core and the power from the strike spread throughout your entire body. every muscle of yours went taut as you arched your chest into carmy’s.

with his expert hands, he fucked you through the orgasm. “that’s it, baby. that’s it. keep cumming for me.”

it was like carmen berzatto knew everything to say to make you shatter. you couldn’t even breathe — all you could do was give into the spreading feeling of bliss and hold your breath while it washed over you. it was wave, after wave, after wave of mind-numbing orgasm and carmen held you through all of it.

“pretty girl.”

“i know, baby. you’re such a sweet girl f’me.”

“that’s it, sweetheart. take it.”

once the waves finished hitting you, your chest was rising and falling heavily. carmen peppered light kisses along your neck, being gentle as to your state, but you were having none of it. you reached for his belt.

“greedy.”

you smiled lazily at him. “any objections, chef?”

he smirked at you, letting his fingers ghost over your sensitive core. a shiver ran up and down your spine at the almost painful action. “be careful — or i’ll make you cum again.”

you knew he wasn’t joking. you let out a slight giggle before you dragged the zipper and his boxers down. freeing his cock, you pumped his shaft.

carmy was once dominantly kissing your neck and whispering mean things in your ear, but now he was using the crook of your neck to support his forehead.

“you have such a pretty cock, carmy,” you whispered in his ear. there was something so comforting about being intimate with a man where you both could be vulnerable, and you weren’t sure if you would ever let it go. you want him everywhere he would let you have him. “i don’t know if i want it in my mouth or inside me more.”

he chuckled at that, crooning back into your embrace when you would touch a very sensitive part of him. “dirty girl — you’re so fuckin’ evil.”

you were worried the friction was becoming too much for him, but you didn’t want to raise your hand to your own lips, so you swiped some of the juices from your core and used it to lubricate the skin of carmy’s cock. it was a quick motion — you didn’t think he’d notice, and plus his eyes were most likely closed.

but when he spoke, you froze.

“do-do that again.” his voice was rough with lust. “do that again for me.”

you were hesitant at first, but you decided to make a show of it. you slowly dragged two fingers up the length of your slit and rubbed a very slow circle around the circumference of your clit. you gasped at the sensitivity, slightly jumping at the touch.

“fuck, that’s hot,” he groaned, breath humid on your neck.

you smirked at his response and reached for his cock. your hand slipped along the smooth skin of his cock, drawing a deep groan from carmen. the poor man was so sensitive — almost aching from what giving everything he had to you previously felt like.

“so big, carmy,” you breathed. “so big and pretty.”

“y’know what would be prettier?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your jaw line. “watching you put it inside you. can you do that, baby?

you smiled at him devilishly. carmy’s hands shoved the rest of your jeans down your legs and flung them somewhere in the room. your pussy was aching — dripping for the man before you. the sensitivity had left you, no longer prickling at your nerve endings. all that was left was the want for more — anything carmy had to give you.

“please,” you whined, rubbing the head of his cock against your glistening folds.

“i love when you beg f’me,” he groaned. “such a good fuckin’ girl.”

both of your lines of sight drifted down to the view of your hips. you both watched in awe as you lined carmy up with your entrance as he pushed his hips towards you.

the throws of passion and want for carmy were intense, sure — but so was the want to enjoy this while he could. he pushed in the tip of his cock, groaning slightly as your tight hole encased him. you whines at the barely filled feeling — so empty, needing more. carmy, however? carmy didn’t care. he wanted to feel every push and pull of your muscles between your hips.

carmy kept his eyes turned down at your pussy and you swallowed more and more of him inside you. he gripped the flesh of your waist, fingertips digging into you. your own hands were splayed our flat against the cool countertop of the table — a direct juxtaposition of the boiling feeling that electrified the top of every inch of your skin. you whined as carmy took his time with his thrusts, pulling back every so often when he felt resistance, and then pushing back in ever so slightly, yet slightly farther, each time.

“please, more,” you gasped, folding your lip between your teeth. “i want all of you.”

“baby isn’t patient, huh?” he asked, continuing with his motions. “gotta have it all, when you want it?”

“i can’t be teased right now,” you sobbed. it was pathetic how needy you were, but fucking christ did it turn carmy on.

“this what you want, baby?” he asked, pushing into you deeper.

your walls were squeezing him like he was the only thing that existed to you. the burn at your entrance was something so bittersweet, something so delicious — you didn’t know how you were going to keep control and make this special for him as well, let alone how you weren’t going to cum right then. but you didn’t care — you didn’t have the strength to care.

“yes, carmy — please,” you begged, bucking your hips into him weakly. “fuck — your cock feels so good.”

“yeah, baby?” he pressed into deeper. “so impatient you can’t handle it slow?”

“i want you to fuck me, carm,” you bit with lust dripping from every word. “fuck me — use me however you want — please.”

fuck.

that set him off.

carmy was a patient and low maintenance man, sure, out of necessity and convenience mostly. however, when he had the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, with a dirty mouth to match, talking back to him, and begging him to be selfish?

fuck patience. fuck ease. and fuck being selfless.

carmen’s grip tightened on your waist, and he pushed the last parts of his cock inside you.

it immediately hit you right where you needed him — that soft, sensitive spot so deep that barely anyone before him could dream of reaching. your walls gripped the smooth skin of his cock and you screamed. you fucking wailed when he finally pounded into you painfully, but so fucking sweetly.

“dirty — fucking — girl,” he grunted, thrusting upwards into your pussy.

there was nothing like the sight of carmy finally taking what he wanted. no expression of shame, or guilt, or hesitation on his face — just a man, slightly bent over before you, inside of you, holding you so close to him because, in that moment, you could give him what he wanted — needed. and, in that moment, all he needed was you.

the side of his face was pressed against yours, breathing heavily into your ear. the few groans he let escape his throat were guttural — almost animalistic. they went straight to your core, practically flooding around his cock. your whines of pleasure forced his hips forward and back faster and harder with each motion. balancing your weight and carmy’s with a firm hand of yours behind you on the table, you clamped your free hand on the back of his neck. you twisted a few stray strands of his hair around your fingers, tugging at them. every thrust caused you to pull his hair, him, closer and harder into you.

“laythefuckdown,” he spat, to your surprise.

the command startled you, sure — but it also made you bite your lip in anticipation. he pressed a wet, heavy kiss to your cheek, throwing butterflies in your lower stomach, as you released him. before you could lay down, he stopped you.

“you want to give me what i want, baby?” he whispered against your lips.

you nodded, gazing at him with dark, lust filled eyes.

“then i want your pussy to finish around my cock,” he stated. “think you can do that f’me?”

“y-yeah,” you replied, shakily, but full of trust.

you laid down and carmy regained his footing at the end of the table, keeping his cock pressed firmly inside you as he stood above you. his cock twitched against your most sensitive spot inside you, and you whined at the new angle. he gripped one of your hips firmly, but let his other hand ghost up your glistening lips.

“such a pretty fucking pussy,” he rasped, gazing at it. “takes my cock so well. but right here…”

he pressed his thumb against your clit.

you would’ve jumped if his hand wasn’t keeping you locked to the table.

“this is what i want,” he spat. “so fucking pretty.”

he began rubbing rough, fast circles on your clit. your legs were shaking from the overstimulation, and you thought you could cry from the sensation. your back arched off the table, and your hands struggled to find something to grip — to balance you as carmy tortured you.

but then his cock started working itself back into you again, hitting that spot that needed him so badly.

“think you can cum like this, baby?” he asked, taunting you. “be a good girl for me, yeah?”

“yes — !” you groaned, reaching for the end of the table with one hand. grabbing it, you tried to steady yourself, but it was no use. not with carmy. “fuck — it’s so much — it’s too much carmy —“

“gonna cum for me, sweetheart?”

you threw your head up to stare at the man. he was rocking into you like that was the only thing he knew, fucking you like it was the only thing he wanted, but there was so much focus on his eyes. so much focus on you.

“gonna give me what i want?”

“yes, yes,” you were nodding your head so pathetically, so sweetly for him. tears were practically threatening to spill over the corners of your eyes, but they glistened at him, and only him, and god did it fuck with him. “please, carmy — let me cum for you.”

“do it,” he ordered. “fuck, baby — cum for me.”

your hips were bucking against his pelvis and his hand, too erratic for him to be precise like he wanted to. you were chasing his fingertips, chasing the orgasm that even in his selfish state he was so generous to give. whines left your throat involuntarily as the intensity in your lower abdomen grew, and grew, and grew. your eyes were screwed shut as you pushed yourself to your elbows, holding yourself up as you couldn’t help but curl into yourself. carmen may have been looking at you, or something else — it didn’t matter. all you saw was the black of your eyelids, until is was white.

white. pure white.

your finger nails dug into the meat of your palms as the heat spread from your womb to the entirety of your body. every nerve ending and hair rose to the highest point of height they could, and you held your breath. the feeling of immense pleasured you washed over you — wave after wave, after wave, after wave. it hit you, it crashed into you, it fucking drowned you — it swallowed you whole until you were gasping for air. your orgasm was violent — practically mine splitting. you were shaking. you were sensitive beyond belief, beyond repair — and the prickling feeling wouldn’t stop. you were gasping for air as you looked down, only to find carmy’s hand still working between your thigh.

still rubbing those fucking circles.

“c-carmy,” you sputtered, tears wet in the corner of your eye. “please — i c-can’t.”

“shhh,” he whispered. “just keep cumming, baby. just keep cumming for me.”

your chest split open at that, throwing you back against the table top. shivers went up and down your spine as you took carmy’s torture.

“that’s it, baby. that’s it.”

his words were music to your ears as you screamed for him.

“ohh, fucking shit — that’s it —“ he hissed. “just like that. take it all for me — oh, fuck.”

you were dazed and confused on carmy’s table, basically seeing stars. absolutely useless, fucked out beyond words. you felt the weight and warmth of carmy’s body lean over, and rest against yours, as his hips sloppily rocked into you.

you wrapped your legs around the middle of carmy’s back, locking him in place. one hand went to clamp on the back of his head, and the other pressed against the side of his cheek.

against his lips, you whispered, “cum for me, carmy, please. i want to feel you inside of me.”

“good — fucking —“ he grunted, pressing his lips to yours in a farm, hard kiss as he shook. carmy’s tongue shoved itself into your mouth, and down your throat. carmy was everywhere — so deep in every part of you. you hummed with each moan of his you swallowed, rocking your hips against his and rocking him through his orgasm. gasps left his lips as he gripped any part of you he could, doing anything he could to hold onto you and keep you in place.

“holy f-fucking shit,” he gasped against your cheek, pressing kisses to your cheek and the length of your neck. “that — that was — it was so —“

“i know,” you spoke, giggling slightly.

carmy laid his head against your collarbone and you weaved his wet curls around your fingers. he rested fully against you, completely relaxed.

“fuck your friends,” he mumbled. “stay here tonight — as long as, um — you want to, that is.”

your giggle hummed in your chest. carmy’s confidence leaving him in the middle of the sentence surprised you slightly, but not enough to leave you unamused. “‘m not imposin’?”

he chuckled at that, and pulled you up from the table and into his arms. "fuck off."

-----

lmk what you think :) love yall -L

[munsons-hellfire]

The Power of Emotions | Eris Vanserra

SUMMARY: You are Feyre’s twin sister. But like your older sisters Elain and Nesta you were thrown into the Cauldron. Now dealing with the repercussions of your powers, your finally allowed to go to an event, where you discover your mate is Eris. Things take a turn for the worse after that.

PAIRINGS: Eris Vanserra x Archeron!Reader

CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI, smut, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v, family drama, mentions of trauma. If I missed anything else let me know but I think that covers it.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: So this will be split into at least 2 parts maybe more I'm not sure yet. I also changed how the powers could be used. That being said, i'm very excited for this. I hope you all enjoy it!

WORD COUNT: 5.8K

PART 2

Cold. Cold. So cold.

You were drowning, not able to breathe.

Suffocating in the Cauldron.

Your body was changing, you were no longer a human.

Cries left your mouth as you fell out of your bed onto the floor. Shivering, teeth clattering, emotions on high alert. Others crashing into you. It was the same thing every night. Every night never changes since you were thrown into the Cauldron.

You squeezed your eyes shut and pulled your knees up to your chest and moved into the corner of the room like you did every night after your nightmare woke you up. You were silently hoping that someone could help you. But Rhys, and Cassian, and Azriel, and Mor, and Amren, they didn’t know what was happening to you.

Nesta was more concerned about Elain, then she was about you. Though you didn’t blame her, Elain was a ghost in a shell. The days had passed and the only one that had started to show any trace of concern for you had been the three brothers. Every morning one of them would come into your room to give you food and make sure you were up.

Every morning they’d see you in the corner of the room. Your eyes vacant, your knees pulled up to your chest, your arms wrapped around your knees holding them in place, and your empty eyes staring into nothing. They had all tried to talk to you, to get you to move but you didn’t. By nightfall you were too exhausted to hold yourself there anymore that you’d finally eat.

Then afterwards, you’d drink the mint tea that you’d come to love. One of the brothers always made sure there was a sedative in there to make sure you got some sleep. You knew they gave you a sedative but you didn’t mind so much, it allowed you some sleep for a few hours until the same nightmare woke you up again.

But this was different, today was different. Emotions were high, the highest they’d ever been. You could feel everyones, from Rhys, to Cass, to Az, to Mor, to Amren (or what she’d let slip), to Nesta, and to Elain. Dear sweet Elain, hers were the strongest, and they were hurting you. Tears were slipping down your face.

You were in the middle of the room crying, silently. Your teardrops fell to the lush black carpet in your room. Finally you couldn’t take it anymore and stood, then you started pacing around the room. Your words were chipped, but they were the same phrases.

“Stop.”, “Please.”, “No, no, no.” All these were the same phrases that left your mouth. Your eyes were almost empty. There was pain in them, not from the nightmare you’d had but it was there. This alone was just from feeling Elain’s emotions. You didn’t understand why hers were so strong today. You still hadn’t processed the fact that you could feel emotions.

As a human you’d always been good with picking up on people’s emotions, but now it was heightened. Now it was miserable. Feyre had been back for a few days now, no one had told her just how bad it had been for you, until he had finally broken and told her before they’d gone to sleep. Rhys stood next to his mate, pain in his eyes.

Feyre was messing with her fingers, staring at her twin. They were watching you pace around your bedroom repeating the same phrases over and over. Mumbling to yourself as you pull on your hair. Emotions were everywhere, you could even feel yours. It was overwhelming and you were drowning in the sea of emotions.

You still hadn’t told them that you could feel, sense, and manipulate emotions. You didn’t understand it though so maybe that’s why you hadn’t mentioned anything to them. Maybe that’s why you had dealt with it for so long. While it was too much at the end of the day it was better than being stuck in that Cauldron all over again.

Feyre briefly pulled her blue-gray eyes away from you and connected with violet eyes that had become oh so familiar to her. “She’s been like this since you came back from Hybern?” Feyre questioned her mate.

Rhys gave a nod of his head. “Yes. If not pacing then she’d been in the corner of her room, knees to her chest, vacant stare. She’d stay in that position until she grew exhausted and we could get her to eat and drink.” Rhys explained. He then paused, running his hand through his black locks. “Then it repeats, then some days she’ll be pacing. Today, Az… he said that it’s been a rough morning.”

Feyre looks back at her twin. “What does that mean?” Her voice is broken as she asks the question and it pains Rhys to see her in pain over her twin.

“I don’t know. I might have a theory but I’m not sure yet.”

A broken sob escaped your lips. You fell to the floor, covering your pointed ears. Elain’s sadness was swimming around you, hitting you right in the face and you couldn’t stop it. You couldn’t block her and everyone else.

“Stop.” You whispered. “Stop. Stop. Stop. Make it stop.”

You cried harder, more tears falling down your face and onto the carpet. Feyre stepped into the room leaving her mates side as the General and Shadowsinger appeared behind Rhys. This was the first time since she had returned from the Spring Court that she was seeing you. The first night Feyre got back you’d been asleep, knocked out. You weren’t mad at all, though you had assumed that she hadn’t stopped by when she had.

“Make it stop, please.”

“What’s wrong, sister?” Feyre asked, kneeling down next to you.

When she placed a hand on your back her emotions filled you, tangled with Elain’s emotions as well as everyone else's. A scream of agony broke free from your mouth. You scrambled on your legs backing away from Feyre, moving to the corner of the room and pulling your legs to your chest as you hid your head behind your arms. The three brothers saw the hurt look that had washed onto Feyre’s face. But it quickly disappeared.

“Tell me what’s wrong sister.” Feyre demanded, moving closer to you.

Feyre needed to know why you had recoiled at her touch, why you’d moved to the corner of the room, why you’d been acting so so different from Nesta and Elain since coming out of the Cauldron Made. Feyre briefly looked back at her husband.

“E-Elain, she’s so sad. So sad. It hurts.” You cried out. “You, you’re happy, and sad, and confused. Everyone else… it’s a mix, it’s all over the place. Please make it go away.”

Azriel knew exactly what you were. Rhysand knew exactly what you were, what you were capable of. Cassian tightened his jaw, this was going to be a headache. Not so much because he didn’t like you. No he already loved you like a sister, but if this was the confirmation of your powers they’d have to keep you hidden. They’d have to keep you hidden from Beron. He’d want you for his own personal gain. This was not good.

“What do we do now?” Azriel asked his brother.

“We keep her hidden until she’s controlled her powers.” Rhys spoke, both in Cassian’s and Azriel’s mind.

“First we need to get Feyre out.” Cassian added.

“Feyre, darling,” Rhys spoke out loud. Rhys stepped into the room and held his hand out towards Feyre as she looked back at him. “I need you to come with me back past the door.” He said softly, his violet eyes steady on his mate.

“What? Why? I’m not leaving my sister. I’m not leaving her alone to deal with this. I refuse to do that.” Feyre said, still looking at Rhys.

“Trust me.” Those were the only words that left his mouth.

The battle raged in her eyes between wanting to help her sister and wanting to listen to Rhys. She looked back at her twin. She hated seeing you in this kind of pain. So Feyre stood from the floor and walked towards Rhys placing her hand in his. He pulled her out of the room, seconds later a shield had been placed on the entire room.

You could breathe, somewhat. You opened your eyes feeling only your emotions and no one else's, Amren included. It was just as it was before you’d come out of the Cauldron, before you could feel every single emotion in that dreaded room including that King. You could still feel your power, still access it, but it was more contained by the shield Rhys had put up to protect you.

Finally you pulled your hands away from your face. Your eyes immediately found your sisters, for the first time since exiting the Cauldron a small smile graced your lips.

“How’d you do that?” You asked, eyes on Rhys as you picked yourself up from the ground and walked away from the corner. You moved closer to the door and stared at each of them.

“You’re an Empath, Y/N.” Azriel stated, Feyre looked at him with the same shock that you had on your face.

“You can feel everyone’s emotions, can manipulate them and use them to your advantage. You can even manipulate your own. You’re a very powerful Empath, considering they’re a legend. You just don’t know how to control your power yet.” Cassian added, reciting from what he knew of Empath’s.

“This shield will protect you from our emotions while you learn to control your powers. If any of us step inside your room we will have a shield around us so you can’t feel them until you're ready to try and manipulate them.” Rhys paused, his violet eyes falling onto Feyre. “We’ll need to learn all the history we have on Empath’s, it’s not much but it’ll help. We will help you learn to control it, Y/N.”

You gave a nod of your head. “Thank you.” You breathed out. For the first time since you’d arrived at the Night Court you finally felt a sense of peace. To know the true name of your ability, it no longer seemed like a curse.

-

It had taken you six years to fully train your powers. During that time you’d healed, you’d trained with Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie. You’d done the Blood Rite with them and completed it. You became a Valkyrie. You’d never again be the same as you were when they broke into your home, took you away. You’d never be weak again.

Your powers had become your friend, you’d learned to block emotions out that weren’t your own. You’d learned to manipulate them, to get others to do whatever you needed with just the single ability of manipulating your emotions. It would’ve helped in the Blood Rite but you made it far.

Training with your older sister had allowed the two of you to heal the broken relationship you’d had with each other. Now you couldn’t imagine not having a close relationship with Nesta. You were finally ready to step outside the Night Court for the first time since being Made. Rhysand wanted to test the limits of your powers.

Tamlin was hosting a party in his Court. Most were hesitant to travel to the Spring Court. He sent word that his court was finally rebuilt. He was hosting a ball. All Courts were invited, though you doubted that anyone from at least the Autumn Court would show. In the six years it had taken you to hone your powers you had discovered what they made you capable of.

Cassian was right, you truly were powerful and if Beron found out he’d want to have you. He knew that Beron would like that you could manipulate the emotions of others. That would likely be the moment they’d strike their bargain with Eris and kill the male so Eris could take over as the High Lord. You stood near a wall, a glass of wine in hand. You were near Cassian and Nesta, who were on the dance floor with a few others.

Some of the High Lords had stopped by and asked for a dance. You’d turn them down except for Helion. He’d piqued your interest. He was a beautiful male, it was glorious that he had created Lucien. Elain and Lucien were perfect for each other. In fact all your family was perfect with their mates. Even Mor and Emerie had started seeing each other and it made you so excited.

But now more than ever you felt so alone. You were thankful to be Feyre’s twin sister and thankful that they’d hidden you to keep you safe but now you felt as though you were missing something. You swirled your red wine around before taking a sip of it. Your eyes landed on your twin. She was so happy, dancing with Rhys with his hand on her belly. They were expecting their second child.

Nyx was also on the dance floor, the happiest smile on his little face as he danced with his parents. Everyone was happy, so so happy. And you, well, you were sad, so so sad. It was moments like these where you missed having your father around. A tear slipped down your cheek and you were quick to wipe it away. But that didn’t stop more from falling down.

There was a presence beside you, and now more than ever you wished the wall would swallow you whole so this stranger didn’t have to see you cry. You shouldn’t be crying; this was a happiest event. Tamlin had announced his mate's pregnancy at the start of the ball and here you were crying because you missed your father and you felt so alone.

“I don’t believe we’ve met.” His voice was oh so soothing as it echoed through your pointed ears. It was a voice you wouldn’t mind hearing on a regular basis. You were drawn to it and you didn’t even know why.

“My apologies.” You remarked, still not looking at the male. You’d tried to keep your voice steady as the words came out but it was broken. He kept his gaze on you, like he was refusing to remove his eyes from you.

“Oh, come on, Little Fox. Don’t be so mean.” He paused when you finally turned to get a better look at him. You took in his toned body or rather what you could see through the warm Autumn suit he’d been wearing. His red hair was short but styled neatly. Finally your eyes landed on his beautiful amber eyes. “Like what you see, Little Fox?” He smirked.

You rolled your eyes. “As if.” You mumbled, looking back down at your wine.

“I’ll repeat what I’ve already said, I don’t believe we’ve met.” He said holding his hand out to you hoping you’d take it. While he didn’t know exactly who you were aside from belonging to the Night Court just from the scandalous dress you were wearing. That was one thing he was certain of, the other being that you were his mate. He felt the golden thread in his chest the moment his amber eyes landed on you.

“I’m Y/N. I’m Feyre’s twin sister.” You said, taking a hold of his hand and shaking it. There was a spark she felt when he touched his hand, though she wasn’t sure if it was due to his powers or because she felt something between them. And for some reason, you couldn’t get a read on his emotions which was odd considering you could feel everyone else's.

“Eris Vanserra.” He paused looking out at your sister and her mate who were now looking over at you two. “I didn’t know Feyre had another sister let alone a twin. You two look nothing alike.”

You smiled at the mere mention of his name. Oddly enough you wanted to say it more and it was included in the bedroom. Shock found your face, why were these thoughts all of a sudden coming to mind.

“We get that a lot.” You smiled softly at him. The male felt that his knees would give out any moment if you continued to smile at him.

“Would you care for a dance?” He asked, hoping you’d say yes.

“I’d like that very much.” You placed your drink down on the table and placed a hand in Eris’.

He pulled you out to the dance floor. Some of the other’s had stopped dancing to watch you and Eris. He placed one hand on your hip while the other was in your hand. You rested your other hand on his shoulder, that sweet smile he was starting to like was still on your lips. Music began playing and the two of you began to dance, ignoring everyone in the room.

“So, dear Y/N, why has your High Lord and Lady kept you a secret?” Eris asked, as you and him spun around the room. More eyes were on you now but still you didn’t care. It was only you and Eris in the room and no one else.

“After I came out of the Cauldron I had a really hard time with a lot of things including controlling my power. They kept me locked up and protected until I got control. I trained with my older sister, made some new friends. Completed the Blood Rite and became a Valkyrie. Now I work alongside Cassian and Azriel going on missions. But Feyre and Rhys thought it was a good idea to finally bring me into the world of the Fae officially.” You explained.

Angry flared inside his chest at the mention of what had happened to you. “They kept you locked up?” He asked, bypassing everything else.

“It was a universal agreement, I couldn’t step outside the shield.” You shouldn’t be telling him this. But you felt comfortable around him, you trusted him completely.

“They locked you up.”

“Why does it bother you? We barely know each other.” You paused taking a breather. You didn’t want to talk about your powers not here. But he wasn’t giving you a choice, and you were trying to manipulate his emotions to move him away from the topic but it wasn’t working. It was like he was immune to your powers.

“It doesn’t matter. They kept you locked up these last 6 years.” His voice was the same.

“No. No. No.” You paused, then the two of you stopped dancing and the room erupted into an applaud.

But you didn’t hear it, your ears were ringing. The gold thread was tying around your heart. You were lifting your hand to your chest, a gasp coming from your lips. Eris was your mate, and suddenly everything made sense. You grabbed his hand tightly and pulled him off the dance floor leading him out of the room. Rhys and Feyre had watched the exchange between you two.

“She’s his mate.” Feyre said, a devastated look on her face.

“I think so, Feyre, darling.” Rhys’ voice was smooth as he agreed with her.

You and Eris walked into the hallway where no one else was. You walked into another room and closed the door behind you. Eris stood still watching as you turned from the door and looked at the male that was your mate. You knew the stories surrounding him, you had heard what he had done to Mor and now you were even more confused that the Mother thought this male was supposed to be your mate.

As you looked at the princling before you, you saw the sudden change in his posture. It was just the two of you and there was no audience. This male standing in front of you was so different from the mask he wore outside surrounded by everyone else.

“Why did they lock you up? Why did they keep you away from me? Six years they kept you hidden from me. Six years we could’ve had to get to know each other, exploring each other.” Eris’s anger was evident in his voice and you were trying so hard to change the way he was feeling but it still wasn’t working.

Tears started to break through again. “Because I was thrown in that Gods damned Cauldron. I was turned into a High Fae against my will. I struggled to not only control my emotions but I struggled to control blocking out everyone else's emotions. They were attacking me and I couldn’t breathe, I was drowning from the nightmares, from the emotions, from the pain of everything. I’m an Empath for crying out loud and for the life of me I can’t figure out why I can’t manipulate your emotions.”

The words left your lips before you even had a chance to stop them. Suddenly Eris was in front of you, his hands cupped your cheeks. He was wiping the tears from your face, a soft look on his face.

“Shh.” He whispered softly. “I don’t know how much you know about an Empath, but typically they aren’t able to manipulate their mates emotions because their mate doesn’t need to hide anything from them.”

You looked up with tears at the edge of your eyes. “Ooh.” You nodded your head. You closed your eyes, inhaled, exhaled, then opened them again. “Rhys and Feyre wanted to keep me hidden out of fear that your father would take me and use my powers for his own advantage.” You felt Eris’s breathing stop, his body went still and he clenched his jaw as he looked down at you.

“I will not ever let my father get near you. You are my mate, I will protect you until my last dying breath.”

You couldn’t stop yourself, the gold thread in your chest was humming. You closed the space between you and Eris, then you placed your lips on his kissing him softly. He pushed you back against the door kissing you harder. His hand moved to the door knob and locked it to make sure no one would come in and interrupt you two.

Your hands find purchase in Eris’ red locks and you pull on them. You pull back from the kiss staring at him with glazed eyes. This is the last thing you expected to happen, but you need him, you need to feel him. Eris pulls your hands and walks you over to the bed. He pushes you down and crawls on top of you. His mouth finds your neck and he sucks some of your soft skin into his mouth. Eris moves his way down his mouth moving between your breasts.

His hands slid up your waist until they made contact with your breasts. A gasp left your mouth when he squeezed one of your nipples. Your scent was starting to mix with his and it caused a groan to leave his lips. Eris pulled his hands away from your nipple and moved down your body. Pulling your dress up off your body until it eventually comes off.

The only thing you were left in was your underwear and heels. An annoyed groan left your lips as you stared at Eris noticing he still had all of his clothes on. You leaned up just after he pulled your heels off and threw them onto the floor. You moved your hands up the length of his arm, pulling around his shoulder and down.

You grabbed a hold of his shirt at the bottom and pulled it upwards towards his head until it was off and discarded somewhere in the room. You placed a devious smirk on your lips as you moved your hands down towards his cock. It was hard and you couldn’t help but widen the smirk. You stood to your knees and shoved your hands down his pants dripping his cock tightly.

A moan left his mouth, his eyes fluttering close. “Gods.” A whisper breath left his mouth. You moved your other hand up and started to untie the strings until his pants were loose enough. Then you removed your hand helping him out of the rest of his clothes. You sat him down on the edge of the bed and moved in between his knees.

Your hand wraps around his cock and you start stroking it. Leaning forward you take his cock into your mouth swirling your tongue around the head. Eris lifts his hand grabbing onto your hair and moves it out of the way so he can watch you take his cock further into your mouth. You couldn’t fit the rest of his cock in your mouth so you used your hand to pump the rest.

This hadn’t been the first time you’d slept with someone you didn’t know. But Eirs was your mate, and you couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your life only hearing his moans as you sucked his cock. You pulled back, moving your hand up and down his length. You slipped your tongue out and moved to the bottom of the base and licked all the way to the top.

You sucked the head of his cock back into your mouth moving further on his length until you started to gag. Eris exhaled, pulling you off before you could have a chance to make him cum. You looked up at him, a sly smile on your lips.

“As much as I’d like to cum in that pretty little mouth of yours I need to be inside of you now.” Eris stood and picked you up, throwing you on the bed. Your legs were bent at the knees. He grabbed a hold of your underwear and pulled them off, throwing them on the floor. He moved closer to your cunt and licked a stripe from bottom to top tasting your juices.

He groaned at your taste. A moan left your lips and Eris moved up your body. He grabbed onto his cock and slid it through your folds getting his cock wet. Eris finally thrust his cock inside you, both you and him moaning in unison. Eris bottomed out inside you. His arms rested on either side of your head and you had wrapped your legs around his waist.

“Gods, you’re so tight, Little Fox.” He moaned out, closing the space between you and kissing your lips again.

“Please.” You whispered when he pulled back from your mouth.

“Please what?” He asked with a stern voice.

“Please move.”

He smirked at you. “Such a pretty Little Fox.” He whispers in your ear.

Eris pulls out, then shoves his cock back in. He starts to pick up his pace, his hips slamming into you. Another moan escapes your lips, your eyes close tightly feeling him inside you. Feeling so close to him like you’ve never felt before.

“So good.” You moan out. Eris pulls one of his hands away from your head and wraps it around your neck. A groan escapes your lips as he tightens his hand around your neck. You can feel your orgasm getting closer just as you feel Eris hit that sweet spot inside you. “Close.”

“What a needy little thing you are, mate.” He breaths, continuing to snap his hips into you. His cock pulled out only to be pushed back in. He can feel himself getting closer to his release but he wants you to get your release first.

“Yes. Gods yes.” You reply. The thrum of the gold bond sitting in both your chest grows brighter and brighter as you both get closer to your release. Eris pulls his hand from your throat and moves his thumb down to your clit circling it. That’s all it takes, your release hits you and you tighten around his cock.

“That’s it. Cum for me, Little Fox. I’m the only one who will ever make you feel this good. You’re mine.” He tells you.

“Yours, all yours.” You moan out. Finally Eris feels his release hitting him. He spilled deep inside you. Dropped his head into your chest and exhaled. Eris slowly pulled out and laid down on the bed next to you and pulled you into his chest. You felt the blanket being over you, your head rested on Eris’s chest. “So what now?” Your voice was soft and afraid as you asked the question.

Your earlier words of what his father might do to you replayed in his mind, Eris turned his head and looked at you finding you already looking up at him. “I think it’s time I kill my father.” He whispered.

You picked yourself up, pulling the sheet with you to cover your chest. Eris was standing pulling his pants up. There was a serious look on your face. “What? You can’t be serious? I mean that’s… Why do you want to do that?”

Eris turned around, his amber eyes resting on you. “I’m protecting my mate-” Before anymore words could leave his mouth the door was slammed open. Rhys, Feyre, Cassian, Nesta and Azriel walked into the room.

“What are you doing?” You asked, looking at your family.

“We could ask you the same. Sleeping with the enemy?” Azriel questioned a voice void of any emotion.

“Please, get out.” You whispered softly, looking away from them. Yes they were your family and you loved them all but they still made you feel like you weren’t a part of the family. Eris noticed the sudden change in your body, like you were trying to pull away. Feyre looked at the boys, and they turned around. Then Nesta walked over to you grabbing your clothes.

“Get up, get dressed, we’re leaving.” Nesta ordered. She gripped your arm and pulled you from the bed. A whimper escaped your lips.

“Let go of her.” Eris ordered, his angry eyes resting on Nesta’s grip on your arm. You and Nesta looked back at the male.

“She’s my sister.”

“And she’s my mate, and you’re hurting her. Let go of her.” The glare was evident on his face as he continued to stare.

“Go get changed now, Y/N.” Nesta was glaring back at the male. You nodded your head and walked into the bathroom. You could hear them arguing as you changed back into your dress. You didn’t want this. You opened the door and the scene before you horrified you.

“Stop. What are you doing?” You asked Azriel who had a knife to your mates throat. He looked back at you.

“He’s manipulating you, Y/N.” You could feel everyone’s emotions. They were all on high alert, Eris had his eyes on you. He was calm, it was like he was trying to make sure you stayed calm too.

“How? How is my mate manipulating me?” Your eyes were glowing, something none of them had seen when they started training you to control your powers.

“He lured you to bed, slept with you. Now you're defending him, he’ll use it against you.” Nesta’s voice filled your ears and you looked at your older sister.

“Get out. None of you get to decide who I sleep around with. None of you decide anything for me. You’ve all kept me hidden for 6 years because you thought Beron would capture me and use me against my own will. And you might be right, that might still happen. But Eris, my mate, he will not do that to me.” You didn’t realize what you were doing until Eris was in front of you.

“Let them go.” His voice was soft, his hands cupping your face as you contorted your face in confusion.

“What?” Finally you looked around the room, your eyes landed on Azriel who was grunting over in pain, then your eyes found your older sister. She too was in the same position. “I-I did this?” You asked, staring at Eris. Feyre was near Nesta while Cassian and Rhys were helping Azriel from the ground.

“It’s ok, breathe Little Fox.” Eris gripped your hand, you'd never done something like this that much was clear. Nesta’s eyes landed on you a glare you’d never seen her give you.

“I-I-I’m sorry.”

Suddenly you could feel everyone’s emotions again, you couldn’t control it. You’d hurt two people you cared about so much. A cry left your mouth as you started to back away from Eris.

“I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean it.” You were shaking your head moving back towards the window.

Rhys, Feyre, and Eris were walking towards you trying to keep you away from the window. The windows were opened but you didn’t know how far of a jump it would be. All you knew is you needed to get out of here. You needed to breathe.

“It’s ok, Y/N. We know you didn’t mean it.” Feyre’s voice said calmly. Everything happened so fast, you felt Rhysand’s power rumbling through the room. You didn’t mean to do anything, but Feyre was on the ground. The same pain that ran through Azriel and Nesta was running through her. The tears were back again.

“I didn’t mean to. Rhys, I’m sorry. I don’t. I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Let her go, Y/N.” Rhys’ voice rumbled, suddenly the rest of the High Lords, your sister and her mate, Mor, Emerie, and Gwyn were at the door. Eris looked back and saw his father, he had his eyes on you.

You nodded your head. Eris tried to walk closer to you, but you shook your head. Feyre could breathe again and that was all that mattered. You backed up too closely to the window and before Eris could catch you, you fell out. Eris was the first to turn around and run out of the room heading to the side of the mansion. You groaned, lifting your hand up to your head feeling a wet substance.

You pulled your hand away to see blood dripping down your fingers. Panic still running through your body you stood up and grabbed a hold of your dress taking off running. You felt dizzy. So dizzy. You didn’t know where to go, only that you had to get away. You didn’t make it far though, you ran right into the chest of someone else.

You looked up seeing the one person that Rhys and Feyre had been trying to protect you from the last 6 years. It wasn’t your mate, it wasn’t your sister’s, and it wasn’t any of your friends. Beron placed his hand on your arm and gripped it tightly causing you to whine out at the pain. You were sure that a bruise would be there tomorrow.

“You’re coming with me, Empath.” With those words the two of you winnowed away, disappearing from the party.

[cyber-tiny]

Drifting

Pairing: Will Ramos x reader Word Count: 5.9k Disclaimer: This is just a work of fiction. If you feel some type of way about it please please just don’t read <3 Warnings: 18+ SMUT; MDNI; Porn with plot; car sex; unprotected sex (be safe guys!); p in v ; fingering (female receiving); soft dom Will; slight dumbification; dirty talk; praise kink; slight fluff; There is one problem with this app and it’s the enraging lack of Will Ramos content! I can’t get this man out of my head so I decided that if I can't read about him, then I'll have to write. This is my first time writing so please keep that in mind. English is also not my first language. Constructive criticism is more than welcome. Hope it’s not too bad! Enjoy!

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

Pretty. How could somebody be that pretty? Were the first thoughts that crossed his mind when he first laid eyes on you.

After a month of touring, he was finally able to return to the raceway, excited to let go of all of the tension and stress the tour had caused him. It was his way of escaping the stress of his daily life, somewhere he could release all his built-up tension and feel the rush of adrenaline push all of his concerns away. That was until he saw you for the first time that day.

He pulled up and parked his car next in the row of the dozen other vehicles already parked there, side by side, all facing the raceway. He could hear the chatter and laughter of the people chilling around the cars as well as the muffled sound of music blasting out of some car’s speakers. He opened the door and got out, being greeted by what had by now become his closest friends. He was already feeling so much better being back home, surrounded by the familiar smell of tar and burnt plastic that filled the air as the wheels of the car that was currently drifting through the course left marks at every sharp curve.

While waiting for their turn on the track, the rest of the attendants watched the show while drinking, listening to music and chatting. The relaxed vibe of the gatherings as well as his outgoing personality made it so he had no problem befriending every single regular attendee of the raceway. It was truly his place of refuge, a safe zone, somewhere he could allow his always busy mind to let go of any worry and give in to the rush of adrenaline. Until he saw you.

When his eyes met yours he froze in place for a second. He took in your form, long hair draping over your shoulders that were exposed by your strapless black top. Your face looked surreal to him, makeup done to perfection and pretty lips reflecting the sunset light thanks to your pink gloss. Your hips tightly hugged by the jean shorts you were wearing as you sat on the hood of your pink lambo with your friend. God what a view.

He made his way down the different smaller groups of people, stopping from time to time to chit chat and answer questions about how the tour went. He couldn’t help but still glances at your direction as he subconsciously kept his answers shorter than usual just to speed up the process, hoping to finally reach your car.

Finally he turned towards you, getting slightly lightheaded at how much more beautiful you looked up close. Your friend was closest to the side of the car next to which Will was standing now and you watched on as they said hi to one another and talked briefly. After what feels like an eternity, your friend looks at you and places a hand on your thigh.

“This is Will. I told you about him, remember?” She said signaling towards the man as he stood there with a kind smile and his hands in his pockets. You definitely remembered that name, as during the past three weeks since you joined the group all they would talk about was him. Will this, Will that. Everybody had a story to tell about him. So by the time his red car pulled up and you heard the people around you talk about how he was finally back your eyes were fixed on that red door, ready to see who the famous Will was.

Your mouth fell slightly open as you watched him get out of his car. Pretty, you thought. What a pretty smile. He began enthusiastically saying hi to everybody as you were stuck in a trance looking at him. Black jeans and a black hoodie shouldn’t look that good on somebody. A silver chain and his pink curls peeking out of his black cap broke the monochromatic outfit. His sleeves were slightly pulled up, letting you admire his tatted arms and hands. His handsome face was framed perfectly by the tattoos that ran up his neck and his sharp jawline perfectly complimented by a frame of ink.

You felt your breath quickening the closer he got to your car until he was finally in front of you, speaking happily to your friend. You could tell he was just as friendly and outgoing as your new friends had described, an aura of confidence and kindness oozing out of him.

“This is Will. I told you about him, remember?” You nod in response with a slight smile, lifting your hand to wave hello to the man whose pretty brown eyes are now on you. “This is Y/N” your friend said. “She’s been coming to the track for a couple weeks now”.

“Nice to meet you” Will extended his hand to you and you shook it briefly, trying to ignore the electricity running down your spine as his warm skin made contact with yours.

“Nice to meet you too! I’ve heard a lot about you. It’s nice finally being able to put a face to the name after three weeks” You said, causing him to laugh lightly while he ran his hand through the back of his neck.

“Oh is that so? Only good things I hope” He replied getting a small giggle from you as you shook your head.

“Sadly only terrible things I am afraid” You joked, getting a quiet ‘I see…’ from him as he smiled even more brightly.

“This your car?” He asked, pointing at the pink lambo you and your friend were using as a seat in that moment. You nodded your head yes.

“Yes, this is my baby” You lightly pet the hood of the car as if it were a sleeping cat smiling up at him as your friend got up to get herself another drink.

“Oh I see. She is a beauty that’s for sure” He said giving a look at your car only to return his eyes to yours, making your legs shake slightly.

“May I?” He asked pointing at the now free space on the hood next to you.

“Of course” you signaled with your hands and he leaned back, resting his weight on the hood of the car without sitting on it. His arms were now crossed as were his legs and he looked relaxed as he looked back and forth between the track and you. You had never met somebody who made people so comfortable just by being around them. The smell of his perfume mixed in your lungs with the smell of burnt plastic coming from the track.

“Are you also waiting on your turn?” He asked, signaling towards the track with his chin.

“Oh god no! I am not a fan of curves actually. I just enjoy coming here to hang out.” You said, resting your hands on the hood behind you.

“Oh okay. Why the Lamborghini then if I may ask?”

“I like to race” You replied, his eyebrows raising slightly in shock.

“Oh wow that is awesome! I guess I owe you an apology for assuming you were wasting a lambo on boring stuff” He said, face filled with genuine interest in your answer. He was so full of life that his energy was contagious.

“I have to admit I am slightly offended Will” you said, his name leaving your lips for the first time.

“I guess I’ll have to make it up to you somehow” He said as he shifted his weight back to his feet, no longer leaning on to your car. “But I think I have to head down now, it should be my turn on the track soon. It was nice meeting you!” He said with a smile as he walked to his car and got in closing the door.

From that moment on, his mind became inundated with thoughts of you. When would he get to see you next? Would you be there next time he went to the track? Would you be wearing those shorts again? Will sighed in frustration as he made his way to the track again, no longer able to disconnect his busy thoughts on the way there, but instead rushing through all possible scenarios that could unfold if he were to see you there again this time.

For the past few weeks, this had been a struggle for him. Always hoping he would bump into you again at the tracks, praying for any opportunity to talk to you. Not only were you beautiful but you were also incredibly cool to hang out with and that only made Will's fixation on you stronger.

You were more than happy anytime the human golden retriever approached you to start small talk or just to chill together as you watched the race. Within the next few meetups, you realized that not only was he the most outgoing person you had ever met, but also a complete flirt. The way he would joke with you and tease you just to get you to blush slightly at his banter made your heart do summersaults inside your chest. Was he like this with the other girls too? Did he also look at them with heavy eyelids as he took as sip of his drink?

Despite the slight sting of jealousy, you were almost certain that he was just like this with you. Why? Because you had carefully analyzed every interaction he had with the rest of the group throughout the last hangouts. You had to. You needed to know if he looked at them the way he looked at you. If he took as close attention to what they said as he did with every word that came out of your mouth. You had become consumed by the possibilities, feeling a growing chemistry between both of you but too much of a coward to ask him directly.

I mean he was irresistible, and he knew it. He had to know. How couldn’t he? He was clearly a confident guy and he had good reason to be. Not only was he incredibly attractive but funny and caring too. He was the whole package and you felt greedy for thinking you might have a chance at having him. Did he feel the connection too? Were you making it all up in your head? These questions rushed through your head everyday as the weeks went by.

Even now, your thoughts consumed you as you sped down the highway in your car. Usually the feeling of the breeze on your hair and the pull of the speed was enough to empty your head of any thoughts. But you couldn’t shake Will off your head.

And there you were again at the track as you had been almost every other day for the past few weeks. You were hugging your knees, sitting on the hood of your car watching the sun set over the track. The slight sound of Will resting his weight on your car snapped you out of your thoughts. You looked at him with a smile.

“Are you not going on the track today?” you asked, as he hadn’t had his turn on the raceway yet.

“I am I am!” he replied “I was just maybe wondering if you’d like to hop in and join me this time” he said, eyebrows raised, pretty brown eyes pleading for you to say yes.

“What?! Me?! Down there?! Are you insane Ramos?!” you replied, eyes widened. You had talked about it in the past, about you being scared of the spinning and turning.

“I promise it is not as bad as you imagine it. It’s actually pretty fun. Why do you think all of us do it?” He asked, one eyebrow raised at you. “Come on, I could teach you how to drift. If you do it yourself it will be less scary. I promise”

The promise of being closer to him and spending some time alone even if it was inside his car made you swallow your fears. You closed your eyes, sighing, convincing yourself that it would be okay.

“Fine. Let’s do it” You said as you got down from the hood. He gave you a shit-eating grin as you finally gave in to his pleas at which you rolled your eyes with a slight laugh.

He walked you to his car, eyeing your figure as he walked two steps behind you. Your black mini dress hugged your curves perfectly and he couldn’t help but wonder how high it would ride up your thighs if he were to bend you over the hood of his car. God how pretty you would look.

He opened the passenger door for you and you thanked him as you sat down. His masculine smell now surrounding you, you closed your eyes letting the scent fill your lungs as he sat next to you in the driver seat. He turned the ignition on and drove the car down to the track.

“Okay are you ready? I promise I will start slow” He said, looking at you waiting for your okay. He was incredibly happy you trusted him enough to even agree to try this so he wanted to make sure.

“It’s not the speed I am scared of Will, it’s the spinning like a washing machine on tumble part.” You said, your tone slightly shaking as you were quite nervous. Your breaths were intentionally slow to try to calm your racing heart. You couldn’t tell what was making it race more, the slight fear you were feeling, or Will’s pretty tattooed hands buckling your seatbelt for you. He was so close; you could feel his warm breath on your skin. Your eyes wondered for a second to his lips. You could swear you saw his smile get wider at this. Did he see? Luckily, he leaned back, returning to his seat before he could see your face turn red.

“I promise it will be fine. Okay? You can trust me, you know?” He said, his deep brown eyes looking into yours. You felt as if he could see your entire being, even those parts of you that you tried to hide most. But with him, it felt natural. You sighed and shook your head.

“You need to stop looking at me like that Will”

“Why? Is it working?” He asked, his expression turning slightly cocky as he called you out. You blushed, choosing to ignore his flirtatiousness for your own sanity.

“I know I can trust you. Now go before I change my mind” You said, both hands holding onto your seatbelt softly looking for any kind of security this act could bring you.

Your eyebrows were slightly furrowed as you looked ahead at the road, face filled with a mix of determination and slight unsureness. He wanted to kiss your furrowed brows so badly. But instead he nodded, putting the car in gear.

You felt the vehicle pick up in speed quickly, a feeling you were more than used to. However, as you saw the curve getting closer as the car sped up, you felt your body tense up. Will placed his hand on your thigh softly giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Are you ready?” He asked, to which you nodded inhaling deeply as you were suddenly hit with centripetal force. You felt your body float for a second, almost as if deprived of gravity, your heart rushing and the adrenaline pumping to your veins. You couldn’t help but start laughing at the incredible sensation, feeling like a kid on a rollercoaster.

Hearing you laugh, Will felt relieved. And then he felt happy. Happier than he had felt in a long time, loving how your sweet laughter rang in his ears. He took it as a sign to continue down the track, drifting at every curve, each time with more force. After the last curve, he drifted one last time and slowed down the car to a stop.

You were left laughing and catching your breath at the same time, your pupils dilated and your hair slightly messy. He had never seen such a beautiful sight.

“You wanna try?” He asked, to which you nodded eagerly. He smiled happily and got out to open the door for you.

He admired your profile as he sat down next to you, this time with you behind the wheel and him as a co-pilot. There was something so erotic about the way you shifted slightly, adjusting yourself to the feeling of the car seat. The way your bare thighs clung slightly to the leader. The way your pretty hands with your manicured nails took hold of the steering wheel experimentally. Pretty nails for a pretty girl, he thought. And God how much prettier they would look wrapped around his cock.

“Okay so what do I do?” your voice snapped him out of his trance.

“Okay it is very simple in theory. All you have to do is steer towards the curve as you approach it and then steer away quickly while shortly stepping on the break.” He explained, looking at you as you nodded at the instructions. “The tricky part is you cannot hesitate. If you do then it becomes dangerous. So I need you to trust yourself okay?” He said.

You nodded again, filled with determination. A part of you wanted to get over your fear and another part of you wanted to make him feel proud of you.

“Good girl. In that case, hit the gas whenever you are ready” The pet name sent shivers down your spine. You shuffled slightly in your seat adjusting for the increasing pressure you felt between your legs. You took a deep breath and began speeding down the track headed for the first curve. As you did you felt his hand on your thigh again, reminding you that he was there with you. You turned into the curve like he had instructed.

“Wait… Now steer away!” You followed his order and felt the car shift under your feet, wheels squeaking against the track loudly. Your body was lifted slightly due to the force, and you felt adrenaline pumping through your veins. You stopped the car smoothly as you came out of the drift, now surrounded by a cloud of burnt plastic, the night was suddenly quiet again as you two were the only ones left on the track. Your chest was busy with your heavy breathing caused by the adrenaline and a smile slowly formed on your lips.

“I did it!” you exclaimed happily, feeling proud of yourself.

“You did! That was incredible” He was just as happy as you were, feeling his heart tug in his chest at your proud smile. He pulled you in for a hug and you closed your eyes upon feeling his warmth. His arms were wrapped around you as he told you how proud he was that you managed to overcome your fear. Your breathing was still quick due to the adrenaline, your mind still racing at the speed of the drifting car. So when he pulled away from the hug slowly, your body acted on its own, pulling the boy towards you by the collar of his hoodie and closing the distance between you again, only this time with your lips crashing against his.

He was quick to kiss you back, although softly and slowly in contrast to your adrenaline-driven hunger. You relaxed into his warm lips, feeling the remaining tension leaving your shoulders. Only butterflies were left now. And you could swear there had to be at least a million of them flying wildly inside your chest.

He deepened the kiss, bringing one of his hands to hold your cheek softly, rubbing loving circles on the skin with his thumb. You hummed into his mouth, to which he moaned in response daring to bring his tongue to slowly trace your lips. You could feel the temperature rising inside the car as both of your body temperatures increased. You squeezed your knees together feeling the slick that was beginning to pool in your panties.

Will intensified the kiss, leaning closer to you so he could explore your mouth with ease. He let a frustrated groan leave his lips as the seatbelt stopped him from coming as close as he wanted to, so he swiftly unbuckled himself.

Next thing you knew, Will was leaning almost completely over you, part of his weight pressing against you. Without leaving your lips, he reclined the driver's seat, leaving you almost lying down completely with him on top of you.

“God you’re so beautiful. You have no idea how much I’ve thought about this” He confessed, breath heavy over your lips as he tried to catch up to the oxygen lost during the exchange. “You look so pretty under me like this” His words went straight to your chore, causing you to press your legs together even more. He closed the space again, kissing you hungrily. You brought your hands to the back of his head, playing with his soft locks as you lost yourself in the kiss as you subconsciously began rocking your hips upwards in search for more contact.

“Fuck” his eyes closed for a moment as he tried to keep his cool in order not to completely lose control. “Want you so bad” He said, his by now hard cock straining painfully against the constraint of his black jeans.

“Want you too. Please” You begged softly only to bring him back into a desperate kiss.

“Are you sure princess?” He asked, starting to leave soft kisses along your jawline. He was holding his weight up on one hand while the other left soft caresses on the hem of your dress on the outer part of your thigh. He was trying so hard to keep his hands to himself until you gave him your full consent.

“Yes… please…” you moaned out, causing his cock to twitch against his pants. Unable to hold himself back any longer he unbuckled your seatbelt. He tapped your legs softly signaling for you to spread your knees, allowing him to fill the space between your legs, his hips now meeting yours. He hissed at the sensation, cursing as he began to rut his clothed cock against your chore.

You looked so beautiful underneath him, cheeks flushed with heat, messy hear splayed out on his car’s seat, your eyelids heavy with lust as you whined for him to continue. “More please… I need you to touch me” you pleaded as you felt his warm lips begin to kiss and suck on your neck slowly.

“What a needy girl…” he looked up at you slightly from the crook of your neck only to leave a small bite that made you gasp. Suddenly his weight was no longer on you, as he distanced himself and sat back down on his seat. You looked at him with confusion, feeling your skin get cold as soon as his body wasn’t on yours.

“Move to the back princess” he explained, pointing towards the back seat with his chin, giving you as much space as possible to move to the back through the gap between the front seats. You sat up and crawled to the back with some difficulty at the tight space.

“Fuck…” you heard him say as you felt one of his big hands grab at your ass as you struggled to move to the back. You finally were able to make it to the back to which he followed, joining you in the back. His eyes met yours, now with a darkened look full of admiration and lust. What a sight you were. Lips slightly swollen from kissing him, dress halfway up your hips, exposing your underwear to him. “God you look so pretty like this… so needy for me”

As quickly as he separated earlier now his weight was back on you as he cornered you against the inside of the back door, one hand behind your neck. He began rutting his hips against yours again, swallowing every pretty moan that left your lips with his. In one swift move he sat up, pulling you along with him and leaving you straddling him.

“Can I take this off princess?” He asked, toying with the hem of your dress. “yes…” As soon as that word left your lips he was pulling the dress over your head as you raised your arms eagerly.

Once the clothing item was somewhere in the floor of the car and no longer hiding your form from him, he took his time to admire you. His eyes looked you up and down slowly. Your pink underwear set was lacy and complimented your skin beautifully. He could simply not believe you were real.

“Such a pretty girl…” He began attacking your neck with wet kisses as his hands explored your body, leaving your skin burning wherever he touched you. He carefully slid you bra straps down your shoulders, his eyes asking for permission to remove the item completely. You nodded, your lips now too busy kissing and licking his pretty neck tattoos, earning you groans from him. He freed your breasts from the constraint of the bra and you let out a soft moan when you felt his warm hands on your breasts.

“Shit how can you be so perfect?” He asked, taking one of your nipples between his fingers and massaging it carefully. His touch was demanding but careful, his expert hands knowing exactly where and how to touch to have you pleading more, soft moans of his name leaving your lips.

You hid your face in his neck trying to muffle your moans as you started moving your hips against his clothed erection.

“Let me hear you pretty… There’s no one to hear anyway hmm? I have you all to myself” He said, urging you to stop concealing your moans. Your hands went down to his hoodie, trying to pull it off of him without detaching your lips from his neck.

“I want to see you too” you said, urging him to take it off. He smiled cockily, his hands leaving your hardened nipples to pull at the back of his hoodie, taking it off together with his t-shirt. His defined torso was now exposed to you, silver chain contrasting against the black of the ink that decorated his chest and arms. Your lips parted in a quiet ‘oh god’ as you took the view in. “Fuck you’re so hot… Need you so bad…” “Do you now pretty girl?” he said as he brought you closer to him, one hand at the small of your back, the other at your hips, helping you move against him. He took one of your nipples into your mouth and you moaned loudly at the pleasure. Your hands got lost in his soft locks as you let him get lost in your chest, leaving your nipples so sensitive that the slightly colder air of the car was enough to make you squirm.

The hand on your back snaked around to the front as he began playing with the lace of your panties. He leaned back, wanting to study your expressions as he brought his thumb to rub softly at your clit over the fabric. Your loud moan made his cock twitch painfully.

“Please Will I need more…” you begged, feeling how your eyes began watering at the amount of pleasure he was giving you. The way he looked at you as he teased you and rubbed you slowly made you clench around nothing.

“If my pretty girl asks so nicely how can I say no.” He said, your pulse speeding up at the thought of finally getting what you needed so badly. “But first I need your pretty hands around my cock baby. Need you to show me how good you are. ‘kay?” He lifted your hips enough to fit his hand between your bodies and loosen his belt.

“yes… wanna touch you” you replied, licking your lips at the sound of the buckle of his belt. He slowly pulled his jeans and boxers down, his heavy cock fully hard against his stomach now in full display. You clenched around nothing at the view, mouth watering at the size of him.

“Go on then baby. I need to feel you so badly” he encouraged. Carefully you took his member into your hand, slowly beginning to pump him. He was so long and thick that you had to add your second hand in order to fully wrap him in your hands. The low groan that left his lips made you even wetter than you already were. “That’s it pretty, just like that”.

The praise caused your legs to shake slightly and your hands to squeeze his cock slightly at which he hissed, precum leaking from the swollen tip. He could read you like a book, examining every little clue your body gave him in order to coax more of those pretty moans out of you. “Such a good girl for me”

Your mind was dizzy with lust, beginning to rock your hips against his thigh in search of some form of relieve. He loved seeing how needy you were, how desperate for him to give you what you wanted so badly. He loved how pretty you looked begging him with your eyes to do something, anything to relieve the pressure you felt between your legs.

“Let me take care of you now princess. You’ve been so good… You’ll get everything you want” he said, carefully removing your hands from his dick. In one strong move, he lifted you up slightly and turned you around so that your back was now against his chest. You complained slightly at not being able to see him anymore, to which he pointed towards the rear-view mirror. His member was now resting between your folds, only increasing your desperation to feel him inside.

His hands went back to your breasts, toying with your hard nipples. You moaned, leaning your head against his shoulder and closing your eyes. “Uh uh, princess. Eyes open. I want you to see how beautiful you look when you come undone for me” He felt your legs shake at the dirty talk, knowing exactly what buttons to push in order to make you melt against him.

“please… please touch me… please…” you pleaded. He finally gave in, slowly sliding his hand down your body until his hand was covering your panties, feeling the warmth of your chore against him. Slowly, he pushed your panties to the side. You could see yourself in the reflection, now completely exposed. Your eyes met his dark gaze in the mirror and you moaned softly.

Slowly, he began drawing circles on your clit, drawing out a cry from you. “yes.. god… please…” you had turned into putty in his hands at this point. Completely at the mercy of what he gave you.

His fingers traveled further south, the pad of his fingers collecting your wetness around your entrance. “Such a messy girl… Look how wet you are baby” The sounds your body was making due to the wetness were purely pornographic and honestly music to his ears.

All the air left your lungs when you felt two of his fingers slowly stretching you out. You couldn’t look away, hypnotized by the way his pretty slender tattooed fingers disappeared into your swollen cunt. His other hand made its way to your neck, applying light pressure to the base of your throat. Your moans were getting louder and louder as he began pumping his fingers in and out of you, loving the fucked out look on your face.

“Does that feel good baby?”

“s’too good” you moaned. Eyes rolling to the back of your head at the pleasure. He increased the speed at which he finger fucked you, slender tips hitting all the right places inside of you.

“Come on pretty, come on my fingers so I can fill you up” that’s all it took to send you over the edge, moaning his name as you shook on his lap. He pumped you through your orgasms while he covered your shoulder in kisses as he praised you for doing so good for him.

“Such a good good girl for me” carefully he turned your face towards the side, connecting your lips together in a hungry yet slow kiss. He then hooked each of your thighs on one of his hands, lifting you up and aligning himself with your swollen entrance. Then, he slowly sunk you down on his cock, stretching you open as he bottomed out. His low groans and moans made the hair at the back of your neck stand up as you cried at the feeling. He filled you up so nicely, hitting every part of you perfectly.

“Fuck.. you’re so tight for me baby. Can barely move you’re gripping me so good” His hot tongue was leaving a wet trail on your neck as he gave you a moment to adjust. Once he felt you clenching around him again, he held your hips in place and slowly slid out almost completely to fuck back into you again. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as the feeling paired with the image in the mirror of his cock filling you to the brim made your head go foggy.

“s’too much… too big…” you moaned losing control of your body for a while, the stretch of his cock against your walls driving you crazy.

“I know baby... it’s a lot, isn’t it? Just relax into it yeah? I’ve got you” he kissed your shoulder blade sweetly, not wanting you to drift away completely. His sweet reassurance paired with his careful movements brought you back to reality.

“More…” you begged, needing for him to go faster, harder.

“Hmm… are you so dumb from my cock already that you forgot your manners princess?”

“please please please…” you begged gaining a satisfied moan from him.

“That’s a good girl…” without making you wait more he began thrusting up into you faster and deeper, hitting your G spot with every drag of his heavy cock. You felt the familiar knot tightening in your lower stomach as your cunt clenched around him.

He was trying his hardest not to come too early, but the way you felt around him and the image of your pretty body bouncing on him was making it a hard task. He wasn't usually this loud, but he couldn't hold it back. Panting, groaning, moaning, cursing, and borderline growling at how good you were making him feel.

“Is my baby close? Are you going to come?” he asked, feeling your insides tighten around him. His thrusts by now had become so hard that your skin slapped loudly at each contact of his hips. He brought one of his hands to draw circles on your clit and all you could do was let your mouth hang open as you cried, your orgasm approaching you.

“I’m close too, princess” You could feel his thrusts become more erratic by the second “Come on baby, come all over my cock. make a mess all over it”

Screaming his name your orgasm hit you like a truck, thighs twitching as you squeezed his cock impossibly hard. “Fuck baby yes…” he moaned loudly as he reached his orgasm, hot strings of cum filling you up.

He slowly fucked you through your high, leaving soft kisses all over your skin with each heavy drag of his cock against your walls.

Your chests were rising and falling in unison, both struggling to catch your breath. He wrapped his arms around you lovingly. “You okay?” He left soft kisses wherever his mouth could reach.

“Yeah… more than okay..” you replied, a tired smile on your lips. He felt relieved after hearing that, wanting nothing more than for you to be okay.

“Let me take you out tomorrow yeah? A nice dinner for my pretty girl” He begged, his heart racing slightly as he waited for your response.

“That sounds good” you smiled. “Maybe we can come back and do some drifting afterward”

God, where had you been his entire life?

[mci-writing]

Hello! Is it possible for you to do headcanons of fem midoriya and fem bakugou(separate or together, which ever you prefer) doing naked apron for their boyfriend? Thank you!

For a hot minute, I didn’t know how to go about this. Hope you enjoy! Reader’s gender won’t be specific for the most part.

Naked Apron Hcs-

Izumi is definitely very nervous when trying it out at first

Sure, she’s a closeted pervert and sure, it’s super exciting to try out such a risqué cliche, but what if you didn’t like it

She really wants it to be enjoyable for both of you, not just her

And she kinda wants you to have a very,,, emotionally charged reaction,,, when you see her in it

So after hyping herself up some more (and receiving encouraging messages from her friends to go through with it), Izumi is wearing a sunflower golden apron around her body, held in place with a very neat (somehow tied with her shaky hands) and big bow on the small of her back, the tails resting on her freckled, slightly tanned booty. The fabric is thin enough that her pebbled, hardened nipples are seen straining against it and it leaves very little to the imagination where it stops, just above mid thigh and just a little under her hips

When you do come downstairs to your shared kitchen to see what your adorable little girlfriend is up to, she’s leaned over the stove cooking up something and moving away pretty soon after to bend down and take a glance at whatever she has in the oven

It’s pretty much impossible not to follow her every movement as she moves about the kitchen, grabbing things here and there that she may have missed before

You stop to hug her from behind and give her a small spook in the process, a very loud noise sounding from her lips at the initial shock with a nice set of flushing cheeks to match (on both set of cheeks-). Just walking around like that is enough to arouse her (very evident when you reach around and can feel the heat of her radiating through the thin fabric), but she becomes a bit more of a mess when you tease her about it and take your time admiring the fabric and how well it fits and compliments her

She isn’t cooking for long after that, the stove and oven cut off as Izumi receives some very much needed fingering and licking-

Katsuki is the type to casually walk around the house with little to nothing on already, so naked apron is a literal walk in the park

Will take a few to admire herself in the mirror

Only cares about how she feels about it bc, “You’re only allowed to like it if I like it”. Trust me, she does care, but she also knows that she looks good in literally everything, so it’s not a huge concern

Probably also had help from Bakusquad in picking it out, but she’ll never admit that she had help and she’s definitely not telling them that she wore the “shitty and fucking stupid” apron. It’s mostly orange with a few designs of swirled flowers (or bombs? I’m pretty sure those are bombs, honey) spaced around the waist of it. It’s somewhat of a v-neck, doing very little to hide her cleavage, and manages to hold her tits in place. It’s hard to tell if it’s really being held by the apron’s ties on the back or if it naturally is hanging from her body, but you’re never going to get the time to dwell on it.

She shows the apron off in your shared room first, ensuring to tease you and call you a pervert for enjoying it. You don’t have to glance for too long because she just knows and she’s going to squeeze as much teasing out of it as she can

Will purposely move into certain positions to show off what is and isn’t exposed by the apron. You can’t stay for too long tho, or she’s definitely going to call you out for staring when she catches you, you fucking perv

Give in and start touching her tho and she’s very easily putty your hands. You’re still a damn perv, but she can’t coherently get the words out when she’s trying to keep a strong front and stuttering when fingers gently press against and tease sensitive, clothed nipples

Tell her she’s cute, even tho she “already fucking knows she is”, and play with her a little. Sure, you’re still a “damn fucking pervert”, but she’s also just as much as one when her lower lips are drenched from you just admiring her apron

[a-lil-perspective]

I can't recall if you've done these and ignore me if you have, but the Bad Batch's reactions to learning their SO is pregnant and/or how they would decorate their child's room? ^v^

Omg I love this so much okay yes thank you for enabling me also sorry these are so long I love getting elbow-deep in delicate feelings.

Also how about pregnancy reveal and how they each decorate the room. :)

—

Hunter: To the surprise of *flips through notes* absolutely no one, this man has a breeding kink. I’ve alluded to it time over again but now I’m full on saying it. He wants to get his S/O pregnant. Like, it’s his dream, the idea of making a baby, fathering a child. It’s such an intimate process for him and he y e a r n s. He doesn’t know much about parenting but he’s willing and eager. Hunter doesn’t let his inhibitions hold him back; he’s able to adapt and figure it out as he goes. He’s not worried. His leadership disposition works in his favor here to give him that boost of confidence most new fathers lack.

So back to the pregnancy reveal. Thing is, Hunter knows before the S/O does, which I’ve touched upon in the past—well, he doesn’t “know”, per se. He doesn’t know that she’s pregnant. He just knows something is different about her. Even before any physical symptoms emerge to serve as an indicator. His heightened senses are already on it. Her scent has changed, almost imperceptibly, but enough to be of notice. She carries herself differently. And is she glowing?

He can’t quite put a finger on it. She catches him staring numerous times, this mystified expression on his face. She asks him about it, but he shrugs it off each time. He doesn’t allude to his findings until he’s 100% certain what it even is.

When she tells him she’s pregnant, the biggest grin spreads across his face. A whole salvo of emotions swirl in his chest all at once; pride, excitement, purpose. This man is so soft. His eyes shine. Think every soft expression he has ever directed towards Omega but x1000. His voice is reduced to a whisper, because a part of him can’t believe it even though their every intimate interaction has prioritized conception up until this point. He’s absolutely elated. And maybe a bit smug because yeah, he knew it he didn’t and yeah, they did this. They made this. Life.

He holds her close and doesn’t ever want to let go. He showers her in kisses and praises and full on worships her, thanks her, telling her he’s the luckiest man alive. His hands rest on her stomach, longing for the day he can cradle it, and then the baby itself. He can’t wait to be a Papa.

As to how they decorate, well, I’ve also talked about this, and I’m thinking they go with a very minimal look. They (Hunter) initially wrestled with sharp gray and crimson accents, like his squad colors. Because Hunter Junior is an honorary member. But they settle for something more muted and mellow; as it should be for a baby. And in a way, it’s the first step towards sequestering this precious being away from the influence of war. Soft yellow walls. Lightweight curtains that allow for sunlight. Padding and plushes to surround her in comfort. A sense of normalcy that Hunter himself is just as quickly acclimating to.

Wrecker: Has absolutely no clue beforehand. He’s too busy being concerned over the sickness that’s been ailing her for weeks now. He feels so helpless, he can’t sleep, she can’t sleep, he doesn’t know what to do with himself or how to help her. She assures him she’s fine, it’s probably just a bug, but Wrecker assumes the worst.

When he finds out she’s pregnant, he straight up cries. In relief, in joy, because he’s honestly so excited. He thinks it’s the greatest thing ever. His trepidations only come later, once the dust has settled and it’s quiet, he’s lying awake at night alone to his thoughts, fearing for how him and his brashness will fare in the presence of something so delicate, so… small. What if the S/O suddenly doesn’t want to raise this baby with him, doesn’t trust him to keep them safe and out of harm’s way? What if they need to be kept safe from… him.

He bottles up all his worries.

And she knows something is wrong, because Wrecker is a terrible liar, and subtlety has never been his strong suit. His dejected state hangs thick in the air and it’s suffocating. She finally sits him down and forces him to fess up.

Her heart breaks when he tells her everything.

It takes several months, almost the entire course of the pregnancy for Wrecker to build up enough confidence to be assured in his capabilities; the ability to perform with finesse in the presence of their fragile child. Or, children. Daddy Wrecker does just fine with his twin girls.

Wrecker goes all out with the décor. Bold, bright colors infuse the walls, with some cute baby animal prints to accentuate. There’s a particular fondness for duckling wallpaper. Also, plushies everywhere. Lula is the leader of the pack and watches over the twins. :)

Tech: The resident nerd is a bit oblivious. While he keeps meticulous track of her monthly cycles, Tech gets distracted easily and is quick to hyper fixate on literally all other matters while the S/O is over here questioning if she’s pregnant because she’s late. She actually brings it up to him in passing and the idiot (affectionate) is too engrossed in something else to offer any advice other than a noncommittal hum in response.

She understands and respects his dedication to his work but it’s still a bit disheartening when she reads the positive test all on her own, Tech nowhere to be found. Her hormones are all out of wack and they’re dangerous, because suddenly his oscillating priorities are maddening. She’s trying to tell him she’s pregnant god dammit and she has to practically yell it in his face.

That gets his attention. That gets his attention real quick.

He halts everything. His work entirely forgotten. He blinks at her.

It takes a moment, but his face lights up, eyes wide behind his thick frames, and he surges forward and picks her up before spinning them both around and it’s a joviality so rare for Tech that he dedicates solely to her in that moment. When he sets her down he’s sporting this haughty grin because once again the nerd is pleased with the essence of his work and all that entails. The S/O’s temper has completely abated by this point and she’s laughing, sharing his sense of satisfaction.

“You are with child?” He confirms and the eager nod he receives makes his heart flutter.

Maker, Tech’s heart soars.

He apologizes profusely for his absence as of late and his sudden penance has her slinging her arms around his neck and kissing him fervently to shut him up. Nothing else matters. They’re gonna have a baby. A baby genius, no less.

Decorations: Lots of options actually. Think “Steampunk but make it soft”. Maybe gadgets and gizmos, with a largely geometrical theme. Or locomotives. Maybe even nautical. Tech might even incorporate a bit of everything. Dad!Tech is nothing if not versatile.

Crosshair: Complex sniper man. I’m sure you are wondering about his reaction most.

It’s definitely the most nerve-wracking.

Because with Crosshair it’s a different kind of atmosphere, a different kind of approach to be made. It’s not exactly an open invitation or a shared fervor; in fact discussions of pregnancy and child rearing with him are largely taboo. It’s the kind of solemnity that has you holding your breath as you await the approaching storm. The S/O is on pins and needles. The pregnancy comes at not the most opportune time, and she’s conjuring up every possible reaction, every possible outcome in her mind. She’s literally made herself sick over it.

A plight not lost on Crosshair.

He knows she hasn’t been feeling too hot lately, and while he’s yet to uncover the reasoning, he’s been watching her closely (as if he’s ever not). He’s at her side taking care of her when she’s been too exhausted, physically and mentally, to get out of bed. He makes sure she eats, rests, and recoups. Even though she seemingly wants nothing to do with him and shuts him out with each passing day.

She’s known about the pregnancy for three weeks.

That’s how long it takes for Crosshair to finally confront her, when he can no longer stand to see her avoid him, his gaze, his very touch. It’s a broodiness he himself enacts well and with her he’s just not having it.

So he asks her what’s going on with barely restrained frustration. His expression is far more even-tempered, controlled.

“It’s nothing.”

“Tell me.”

She hates the lump forming in her throat, bobbing against his fingers that hold her chin. Her voice quivers, an apology ready on her tongue as she chokes out, “I’m pregnant.”

Two life-changing words, but Crosshair’s face could reveal otherwise.

It reveals nothing.

The silence seems to stretch between them. She forces herself to hold his gaze, the one that somehow breaches her very soul while his own remains ever-elusive.

She grips his biceps as desperation claws its way to the surface. “Please don’t be mad—”

He pulls her to his chest then, with urgency, his arms wrapping protectively and decisively around her. He swallows down his immediate offense; the one that surges over the impression that he’ll leave at the first sign of inconvenience (even if it is a knee-jerk reaction). That he’ll leave her. The love of his goddamn life.

Crosshair is a man of few words, but his embrace is a conduit of soothing ones. She cries into his chest, in love, in anguish and apprehension for the morrow, but assurance in knowing he’ll be there. She misses the resolution shaping his face. He’s here to stay.

They stay like that for a long time. Holding on.

He kisses her head, and after what feels like hours, rasps out, “I’ll take care of you.” His hand falls low to her front. “Both of you.”

Crosshair loves decorating his child’s room. It’s oddly liberating for him. His aesthetic flare makes for a beautiful, tasteful room. He paints the majority of it by hand. He’s rather quite proud of himself. Soft accents surround an environmental theme, a reflection of his work as a sharpshooter, exposed to different elements where he nestles into a sniper’s vernacular and adapts; much like with fatherhood. Forests and meadows and botanical blends pervade the walls of the nursery. It’s peaceful to Crosshair. It feels right to him. He thinks baby will like it, too.

[whaleofatjme1920]

The Ends of Hallways (Proxies X F!Reader)

The Ends of Hallways

[Proxies X F!Reader]

[Warnings: slight language]

[AN: Y'all are just gonna have to thank Eris for always sending me the best requests. I don't have favorites,,, but Reader, I have favorites. Also no Kate sorry :( ]

Your face was practically squished against the glass of the car Hoodie had stolen as the four of you pull into the parking lot of woods that brim with the Operator’s energy. You’ve never seen these woods in person - only in dreams. You’ve never even really seen your master in person, once again, like these woods, he too has been confined to your dreams. But you hear him, and often. His voice falls down on your ears like gentle rains that fall from the heavens. He is everything and more. That is why it is so exciting for you to finally be here, so close to him, and to his presence.

“You excited?” You hear your group leader ask.

You nod and press harder up against the glass. “Are we going now?” You’re ready to bounce out of the car and everyone can see that.

He chuckles in response. “What do you think Hood? Time to go?”

The hazel eyed man behind him shoots the driver a look. “Masky, just look at her, she’s gonna break the window if we don’t.” There’s a slight playfulness in his tone that tells you the right hand really isn’t annoyed with you.

“Fair enough,” Masky smiles. He then reaches behind his seat, hand slapping at who used to be the runt’s knee. “Tobes? Tob-Tobes, get up.”

Toby’s eyes shoot open as he lurches forward. “I’m u-u-up, I-I’m u-up,” he yawns as his hands rub tiredly at his eyes. “Are w-w-we here a-alaready?” He asks, the exhaustion still clear in his tone.

Both of the men in the front seats nod. “C’mon, let’s get going,” Hoodie says as he pulls up the lock on his car door before sliding out.

You wait impatiently for Masky to unlock the car then zip out like a bat from hell. You’re immediately at the edge of one of the forest’s many trails and taking in the sights and sounds of your boss’s woods. They’re beautiful, really. The autumn colors bathe the woods in fiery oranges and passionate reds with threads of gold to interlock it all together. The sky is just the slightest shade of blue as clouds cover the sun. There weren’t any people here either - not under the little structures, not exploring, not anyone but you and your comrades.

“Wrong one,” Hoodie says as he closes the trunk to the car before tossing a backpack to Toby, who catches it like second nature.

You whip your head around to see that Masky, Hoodie and Toby are smiling at how excited you are before silently asking you to follow them. “Where are we going?” You ask, eyes wide as you jog up to them.

“Across the field. There’s this cool tunnel of trees we think you’ll appreciate,” Masky replies as he leads his group across the grass. It crunches slightly as the four of you move, like it hasn’t been watered in a long time.

“R-Really?” Toby hums as he puts his hands in his pockets. “You s-s-sure we’re n-not gonna be l-late?” The young proxy gives a slight look to his group leader, eyebrow raised as if he’s sure the Operator is okay with them possibly being tardy.

Masky shakes his head before tapping his temple with his free hand, “he told me it’s okay.”

“He did?” You ask as stars cloud your eyes. The Operator, as you’ve heard so far, is to be feared and respected. He’s like a father you can look at but never touch. He seems so out of your range, like he’s not even visible - not even if you squint your eyes. You wonder what makes you so… interesting… in his eyes. You really don’t think you’re worth all the fuss. Clearly he does.

Masky chuckles before ruffling your hair with his hand, “yeah. I think he finds your enthusiasm endearing.” Masky’s not entirely incorrect. When they first got Toby, the Operator was strangely favorable towards the young proxy as well - maybe because he was hand plucked, special, and therefore deemed worthy of his time. You were similar to Toby, albeit, you accidentally got involved with the Operator. He liked you, chose you, then kept you.

Hoodie whistles slightly as the four of you step into the trees, his gloved hand reaching up to tear off a branch from one of the low hanging trees then swing it aimlessly as his side. “Seems pretty obvious in my opinion,” he whacks Toby lightly with the stick making said proxy laugh. “Looks like Toby isn’t the only golden child anymore.”

“P-Probably not,” Toby hums, a slight melancholy coming into his tone. “Think I-I’ve been losing f-f-favor with h-hin for a w-while.” He glances over his shoulder and smiles at you.

You frown slightly and place your hand on his shoulder, “I don’t think so,” you say. “Just means he has two golden child-s now.”

Toby beams.

You do too.

The group continues to move through the trees, mostly silent save for Masky and Hoodie pointing out little memories from time to time. Things such as some guy named ‘Alex’ chasing them through here, Masky’s waking up with no memory, Hoodie’s nature shots, and everything in between. You learn a lot about the hands of your group from when they were just scared film students to the things they’ve done as proxies here. It’s kind of nice as you’ve never really spoken to them this way before.

When you first came into this life and were placed in this group, the hazing process kicked in like wildfire. Almost every day was a mentally or physically, sometimes both, a draining task and a bonding agent. Authority was not to be questioned and they made that more than clear. Eventually, the hazing grew lighter and lighter until it just… didn’t exist. That was how it went - you were no longer considered naive and starry eyed. Still, authority was not to be questioned, and it’s why you and your comrades have never really talked on this specific level before.

It’s why it’s such a treat that you get to talk to them like this now.

Eventually, the four of you make it to an odd stretch of trees. They tunnel over each other, a lot like a thorny funnel, but they frame the sky so well.

“If the sun was setting,” Masky starts. “It would look like a cradle.”

You take a step back and observe the tunnel of trees, trying to imagine the setting sun. The mental image is pretty. “Will we ever be back here to see it?”

“Oh definitely,” Masky continues. “But uh, the business we’re here for today? Don’t know if that’s meant for anyone but me and maybe Hoodie.”

You look on instinct to Hoodie who nods. “Is that normal?”

“Sure is,” Hoodie says as he takes in the scent of the cooling autumn woods. He knows the group is almost to the limits of the Operator’s realm. “Tell me what you feel right now, Reader,” he says in passing as he flicks the stick somewhere off the given trail.

With a glance around at your surroundings, you attempt to get a feel for the area you’re in. It’s cold, much colder, but the atmosphere still feels a little thick. The further you go into the woods (and by extension the Operator’s bounds to which you don’t even know exist yet), you get that odd feeling in your legs that feels like they’ve fallen asleep. It’s like the physical sensation of static. You try to explain it in words, but they fail. Instead, you allow Hoodie into your thoughts.

“Nice,” he smiles. “Alright, try to ask for permission in.”

“I need to ask for permission?”

“E-Everytime,” Toby begins as he and the others pause. They’re right on the edge of the bubble and can feel it so much stronger than you can. “It’s t-to ensure n-normal humans c-can’t come in,” Toby begins to explain as you gaze around your surroundings, wondering how you’ll even begin to ask. “T-Though, their f-feelings sometimes k-kick into o-overdrive and they e-end up p-piercing through the v-veil on a-a-accident.” He chuckles softly and you know exactly what he’s referring to - you’ve heard tales of the people who get stuck wandering where they shouldn’t: always ends in someone strung up in the pines. “W-We’ve all learned t-to ask p-permission like b-breathing.”

You shoot your comrade a confused glance, wondering what that will mean for you. “I just ask?”

“Kind o-of,” Toby says. “Just l-let your f-f-feelings guide you. She’ll t-t-tell you whether you’re a-a-allowed in or not.”

You close your eyes and begin to hone in on whatever your heart is telling you. It’s a cold feeling, mostly like vines that slip up and down your limbs as they grow upwards and then inwards towards your heart. It’s an odd feeling. Once the static vines pierce through your heart, you physically see a fog roll into the forest around you. It consumes you and your comrades before you remember Toby mentioned ‘she.’ The fog thickens. “Wait, she?” You say as the static begins to leave your system. It feels like you’re tearing through roots as you walk forward.

“He didn’t mean it,” Masky quickly replies as he begins to pull you through the fog. “Good job on asking though. Strong response,” he says as gestures to the fog, his hand swimming through the billowy clouds. “Wives’ tale is the stronger the fog, the more genuine you were in response.”

You wade your fingers through the thick fog as you and the others walk forward, deeper and deeper into the darkness where there was none. “Must’ve had a really genuine response, huh?” You mumble to yourself. The fog doesn’t even feel like normal fog - it feels thick and heavy and leaves slight dew on your clothing as you walk. How interesting.

‘Head talk from here on out,’ Hoodie says as the four of you reach a stretch of woods that feels slightly dangerous.

‘Did you feel it too?’ Toby asks, his hand at his hatchet.

Hoodie nods slightly, his eyes narrowing as he slows his pace so he’s guarding the back. He gives you a slightly concerned look as the fog evens out. Everyone but you knows that they’re in perhaps one of the most dangerous parts of the veil. The Operator’s mere presence is usually enough to deter the things like the Rake from his grounds, but that often means they get trapped here - in the in-between - and lash out on the first thing they sense. The sooner the four of you get out of this dangerous spot, the better.

‘What do you sense?’ You ask, cutting mentally through the rough silence, your own hand moving to your blade.

Hoodie looks like he’s about to answer you before he holds his fist up and the other three of you duck down instantly, dipping below the fog. Just then, some deer begin walking past.

‘Deer?’ You say in a questioning tone.

‘Not just any deer,’ Hoodie begins as the deer slowly nibbles on the leaves and other things. ‘Take a good look at their bodies. They look normal to you?’

You narrow your eyes slightly and get used to peering through the fog as the deer pass. Eventually, you’re able to look at their coats. There’s something off about them, something wrong. Something you can’t quite place. The longer you watch them as they move in front of you, the stronger that off feeling gets. They have every physical part of the deer down but it’s just not right. It’s like their joints don’t fit well beneath their skin. And their eyes… Their eyes are completely hollow.

‘You see it?’ Masky asks as the last of the deer passes by. He glances over his shoulder briefly to see you nod. ‘We’re lucky they didn’t change this time,’ he mumbles, slowly inching forward while crouched against the earth.

‘What would’ve happened if they changed?’ You inquire, moving quietly alongside your comrades.

‘Nightmare fuel,’ Toby finally pipes in. ‘Nothing about them looks right. Big mouths full of sharp teeth, black eyes, too many limbs, like a messed up centipede,’ he finishes, a slight shudder coming into his mental tone.

You notice the other two of your group members nodding in agreement before finally deeming it safe enough to stand up and finally exit the in-between of the veil.

You’re greeted to the sight of a beautiful, rustic looking Germanic mansion surrounded by iron gates that hold honeycomb patterns that trail skywards only to end on sharp peaks that you’re almost certain your boss has spiked people on plenty of times. There’s also flowers of every kind in the front gardens that catch your eyes the moment you step through the grand gates. There’s fountains and topiaires, statues and benches that tell you the Operator drips with style and elegance.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Masky smiles.

You nod, “it’s gorgeous.” The air smells slightly expensive, but mostly sweet. How is it that a place like this can even possibly exist? Around the mansion are autumnal trees, mostly maple, some sycamore and other birch. Scattered on the front lawn are other proxies and some independents, mostly catching up and talking before leaving through the same gates you entered from. Some of them smile and wave as they pass you, others grunt and turn their nose up at you upon realizing you’re the youngest. This place sings with the Operator’s overwhelming presence.

Your comrades continue to watch your amused expression as they lead you to the front doors of the mansion. They’re large and stained glass, slightly gothic in woodwork and tower over you.

“Go ahead,” Hoodie chuckles as he nods for you to open the doors.

You glance back to him, then at the large doors before tentatively placing your hands on their surface. With a small breath, you push them open and find yourself greeted to the most exquisite foyer you’ve ever seen. Large chandeliers hang from the ceiling, sapphires and rubies drip from the fixtures and shine the light beautifully across the marble floors. Gold leaf adorns almost everything that juts out while the huge staircase in front of you beckons you forward.

“Doesn’t seem like he needs us yet,” Masky says as he checks his watch. “Got here earlier than expected, huh?” He lightly ribs Hoodie who rolls his eyes in response. “C’mon, let’s go to the sun room. Don’t wanna wait around in here.” He nods for the three of you to follow.

Toby clears his throat slightly as if to remind the two in charge that you’re still very much here and new.

“Oh, right,” Masky says. “Reader, this is super important, so listen up,” your group leader begins as he turns on his heels to eventually rest his hands on your shoulders.

You raise a brow at his sudden contact. Masky normally didn’t touch you unless what he had to say was important - which really, really didn’t happen often.

“This mansion likes to play off your thoughts, feelings, and logic,” he says, his hand gesturing to the staircase that’s slowly moving directions. You didn’t even hear it begin to shift. “The Operator usually keeps things in line for when he summons you, it’s almost a guaranteed path you’ll make it to him, but,” his eyes go serious. “If it’s just you and you’re moving around, you need to have a place in mind or it’ll accidentally spit you out somewhere totally random. We’ve had people get lost in here because the mansion is slightly playful and weirdly baneful depending on the individual walking around.”

“The Operator has a playful side?”

Masky stifles a laugh before shaking you lightly. “I legitimately mean it, you need to have a place in mind or you’re gonna get lost and the Operator isn’t gonna be happy. By extension, I won’t be happy because I need to come get you.”

“Mhm,” Hoodie nods in agreement. “And you can’t have the thought in passing either, it’s gotta be on your mind until it’s in sight.” After Hoodie’s words leave his mouth, Masky lets you go.

You take all the information in and wonder just what makes the place run. It’s like it has its own personality - it’s playful and baneful? You have to ask it permission to even enter its grounds and it deems whether you’re worthy or not? What kind of power does the Operator even have and why on earth would he even care about that kind of stuff? If he truly wanted his proxies to access him, he’d do it with no hesitation. The humans that would wander into his rooms would just end up tasting someone’s blade.

“Sun room?” Hoodie reminds Masky.

Your entire walk to the sun room you try to conjure a mental image in your head. They say it’s doubtful you’ll get lost so long as you’re with them, but you consider it good practice. When you finally make it to the sun room, you’re pleased to see it’s relatively empty save for a few groups interspersed in the large, window adorned room overlooking a silver lake. There’s a few independents walking around with carts holding different tea time finger-foods and waiting tea sets on every table. Maasky leads you over to one of the tables nearest to the view of the lake.

“So, what business exactly are we here for today?” You ask as you waste no time in pouring yourself some tea.

Masky shrugs, “no idea. He said he just wanted us to come.”

“T-Think he r-really only n-needs an audience w-with them though,” Toby adds before silently thanking you for pouring him some tea as well. “L-Leaves us some t-t-time to chat. Y’know, t-the thing H-Hood hates us d-doing,” he lightly jokes.

Hoodie scoffs and feigns being annoyed, “I only hate you two chatting when we’re in the middle of tearing out some guy’s entrails.”

“Y-Yeah, which is a-all the time,” Toby giggles.

You laugh as well.

The four of you are in a heated argument about something relatively stupid when static overtakes Masky and Hoodie’s hearing. They visibly pause, as if they’re trying to key into something you can’t understand when it suddenly stops.

“Have t-to go?” Toby inquires before taking a strawberry tart and popping it into his mouth.

Both Masky and Hoodie nod.

“Yeah. Keep an eye on Reader, please? We won’t be too long,” Masky replies with a small, tired smile.

Toby flashes the two a thumbs up before the both of you watch them leave, a clear destination on their minds.

It’s not long until Toby gets distracted by some other independents that stroll into the mansion. You recognize the two of them as relatively minor legends - well, maybe not the one with the smile. His name is Jeff.

“So, this is your fresh meat, huh?” Jeff chuckles as he lightly pushes Toby’s shoulder. “She looks a little scrawny. Are you feeding her right?”

Toby laughs and nods, “Masky w-w-would lose his m-mind if you s-s-said that.”

Jeff’s chest rumbles as he laughs. “I’m joking,” he holds his hand up as a sign of truce. “Hope you know you’re running with one of the only decent groups out there, Reader,” he says before picking up his tea cup. It looks slightly comical as he brings it to his lips.

You offer him a smile and nod, “yeah, I know.”

The man to Jeff’s left nods in agreement, “Masky’s really good at what he does. Got one of the best.”

Toby immediately fights the notion (playfully) and the three engage in conversation that’s lively and vibrant all the same. You listen to the three verbally duke it out before you find yourself bored. You can’t just leave though, but you want to move at the same time.

“Toby?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I excuse myself?”

“W-Where to?”

“Washroom,” you reply.

“Do y-you need m-me to a-accompany y-y-you?”

Both Eyeless Jack and Jeff scoff.

“She’s a big girl, let her go,” Jeff says as he nods his own approval for you to go. “You told her about the mindset thing?”

Toby nods.

“Yeah, then she’s good to go,” Eyeless Jack agrees.

You flash the men at your table a smile before getting up. You push in your chair and then make it to the entrance of the sunroom, leading into the halls. You don’t have a set destination in mind. The moment you step out of the sunroom, you feel the air change. It’s not unpleasant, but it’s different. On instinct, you turn your gaze over your shoulder to see the sunroom is gone. It’s just hall and lining the hall are doors upon doors.

Alright, you can work with that! A small smile comes to your face as you begin to walk forwards, allowing your curiosity to bloom. The first door you decide to open is one that’s honestly not that exciting. It was just a storage unit. Another was a study. Then it was someone’s room. Another room. And another. How many residence rooms are there?

You close yet another door and then feel a thought come into your head, taking a seat on your train of thought like a butterfly sunbathes on a flower. She - Toby had mentioned it. And you wondered. You let the thought stay. Before you know it, you’re walking through the halls guided by forces you don’t quite understand, and the further you get into the mansion, the stranger the atmosphere becomes. It’s not unpleasant, but it’s not a normal feeling either. You watch as the light fixtures change from something relatively modern and regress into something more vintage. The dust begins to kick up. Irish lace begins to pepper the ceiling. You notice how the doors change style as well. How strange.

Eventually, you reach a dead end stretch of hall. At the very end of this hall is a singular door that looks weathered, as if it was sunbleached and painted over in oils. There’s an elegance to it you can’t quite place, and like a siren song, you find yourself being beckoned to it. Your proxy instincts kick in like second nature the closer you draw to it. You feel your breathing lighten, your steps as well, and you move towards it with a silence that is unmatched - as if you’re floating on air. You draw closer and closer to the door. It’s so magnetic, and you can’t quite explain why/ But closer still you must be to it.

Your hand tenderly grasps the doorknob - it feels like ice - and you twist it open. You wonder if you should be doing this. A part of you feels like you shouldn’t be doing this, but another part of you says this is what you were meant to see. You push the door open ever so slightly, just enough to be able to see inside, but the door is heavy, almost as if it doesn’t want you to. Like it’s trying to protect you from something further. You wonder if it just wishes to keep its secrets.

It’s gorgeous, it truly is. It puts the rest of the mansion to shame. It looks old - perhaps from 16th century Germany and fit for royalty. Plants of all kinds line the walls. They look like emeralds as light shines through their leaves. The sunlight kisses the flowers that sprout from the stalks. Beautiful woodwork surrounds the windows that are covered in fairytale-esque stained glass pieces. The scent is of something much, much sweeter and warmer than the rest of the mansion. Your eyes then draw to the center of the room, where an ornate table sits. There’s gold leaf decorating its legs followed by symbols you can’t really pin down. A tablecloth that looks like it was weaved from the stars above is the only thing that separates a delicate tea set from the precious mahogany table. The tea smells heavenly from where you stand.

Before you can press into the room, you pause upon seeing slender, pale hands take hold of the tea pot. Your eyes follow upwards to the owner of the hands only to see a woman so much more beautiful than the moon in twilight and the sun in the morning. Falling from her shoulders was golden hair that looked like a sea of amber as it cascaded down near the floor. Flowers were woven into it - mostly snowdrops, baby’s breath and queen Anne’s lace. She’s dressed in something from medieval Europe, and never once does her sleeve touch the table. She begins to pour herself some tea, a honey like hum coming from her being as she pours the sweet liquid. Her eyes flick upwards for but a moment when she hears a bird chirping outside. Her eyes are so dark, there exists no white sclera. They’re so dark, like black holes that hide in the depths of space, but you feel as if she holds the universe inside of them. She’s so beautiful, you’re not sure she’s real. A cat has jumped up onto the table, purring at her. When she smiles, your heart sings.

You want to say hello to her and spend time in her presence when you attempt to open the door some more. It creaks slightly. The hinges are ancient. Before you can say anything, the door is slammed shut, sending you flying backwards. You let out a sound of shock before seeing Toby reaching down to get you.

“What t-the hell a-a-are you thinking?” He hisses as he picks you up, grabbing your bicep and beginning to drag you away from the door that still holds your attention. “You r-really just w-wandered off l-like that?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, attempting to get free of his grasp as he continues to pull you along. No matter how hard you smack at him, he doesn’t let go.

“M-Masky said it’s not s-safe for y-y-you to wander o-off. A-And without m-me? D-D-Did you have a-any cognitive t-t-thought when you w-went out on a l-limb like t-that?” He sounds so heated.

You find he’s bringing you back to the sunroom, undoubtedly going to tell Masky and Hoodie about your misbehavior. “Why are you being so weird?” You retort as you attempt to wriggle out of his grasp. “It’s just a room!” You cry out in an exasperated tone.

Toby only reprimands you louder. It’s a losing game.

You eventually find yourself back in the sunroom. Only, instead of Eyeless Jack and Jeff, you see the deeply concerned and slightly pissed off faces of Masky and Hoodie. They’re not happy to see you, and you’re not exactly thrilled to see you either.

“Take a s-s-seat,” Toby says in a harsh tone as he thrusts you back into your seat.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Masky asks, not even attempting to mask his voice because that’s the privilege of being a proxy. You’re able to reprimand your proxies without anyone giving a care.

“You can’t just go off like that,” Hoodie continues as he furrows his brows. “You could’ve gotten-”

“Hurt? This is the Operator’s mansion, what the fuck is gonna hurt me in here other than himself or you two?”

“That’s it,” Masky points out. “He can seriously hurt you if you snoop where you shouldn’t!” His hands grips at your wrist, tightening to a point of pain.

When you feel tears prick your eyes, Hoodie sighs and puts his hand on Masky’s shoulder, “stop it.”

Masky hesitantly lets you go.

“What did you see?” Hoodie asks with a deep sigh, his posture tensing. He’s really hoping you didn’t see the Operator’s trophy room.

You give your comrades a concerned look, not sure whether you should answer or not when Hoodie raises a slight brow. Damn it. You’re emotionally compromised. He’s seeing what he needs to without your permission.

“That’s… Odd…” He says.

Masky glances to Hoodie. “No.”

“Unfortunately, I think yeah,” Hoodie says with a growing frown. He glances to Toby for confirmation, and upon seeing Toby’s nod, says “yeah,” again.

Masky groans and puts his face into his hands, finding comfort in being buried into himself.

You hold your wrist in your hand and lean back in your chair. “Just… What is it you guys aren’t telling me?” You question, hoping they’d just bite the bullet and tell you.

The group shares a look, debating whether they should even say it or not. When no one says anything, you press them again.

“Come on,” you sigh. “It can’t be that bad.”

“It really could be,” Masky says as he finally releases his face from his hands. “No one knows what seeing it does.”

Your eyes widen before you bark a laugh. “What?”

“No, he’s serious,” Hoodie picks up. “Seeing that door is rare, like, rainbow pikachu rare. Proxies think it’s an omen or a bad luck thing. To see it means a group’s eventual demise.”

You briefly scoff at the thought of proxies being superstitious before you remember some of you can actually cast portals. It’s really not that out of pocket.

“N-No one has e-e-ever found o-out though,” Toby shrugs. “W-We just know t-that the g-groups that h-h-have n-normally e-end in death.” He looks a little uncomfortable as he says the words, like there’s a legitimate truth to what he’s saying even though he’d rather it be utter BS.

“To be fair, we thought it was a rumor prior to you sneaking off,” Hoodie says as he tries to calm down his group.

You take in this information with a small frown. How could something that beautiful be that evil or a harbinger of doom? The thought of it left you perplexed as your comrades continued to lecture you on not wandering off until Masky and Hoodie were called away.

“I don’t know if I feel comfortable leaving Reader here with-”

Toby rolls his eyes, “you c-cant just s-say you want m-me to come with i-instead. N-Not need to insult m-my competence a-a-as a babysitter,” he mumbles before glancing down to his hatchets.

Masky sighs and nods for Toby to follow him out. Looks like it’s just you and Hoodie.

“So,” you awkwardly begin, not really sure what to do or what to say.

“So,” Hoodie hums back. “Anywhere you wanted to go?” When he sees the glint in your eyes, he shakes his head. “Like, a normal place. We’re gonna be here for a while while those two are out,” he chuckles, watching as you visibly deflate.

You allow the question to bang around in your head until you nod with a thought in mind. “The library. I’d like to go to the library.”

Hoodie smiles at that suggestion and finishes the rest of his tea before standing up. He stretches for a moment, then leads you to the hallway your original snooping began. You noticed as his thoughts immediately became clouded with the word and vision of ‘library’ as the two of you trekked the halls. As you walked, you barely recognized any of the doors you passed. They weren’t on your radar, which was odd in your opinion as you had opened a lot of door you probably shouldn’t have.

Eventually, you reach two large oak doors. Hoodie pushes them open and you’re greeted to the sight of a beautiful library. It’s impossibly huge - how could such a place exist in the mansion? You’re well aware it’s a huge place, but the fact that all of this is here… It’s bigger than a downtown city library you visited when passing through Chicago a few months ago. The Operator’s influence is beautiful, isn’t it?

“I’m gonna be in the sci-fi section,” Hoodie says as he nods over to the right wing of the library. “It’s on the second floor.” You notice the spiral staircase that leads to what appears to be a balcony - it must stretch backwards forever. “Check in with me in about 15 minutes. Don’t do anything stupid.” It’s surprising how relaxed he’s being with you. You would have expected someone like Hoodie to be a lot angerier and more observational.

Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, you nod and flash him a thumb’s up before bounding over to the left wing of the library. Nothing is properly labeled, but you get a strong bout of intuition where everything is. Right now, you’re on the hunt for history.

The aisle that holds the history books looks just as old as you would have expected it to. The books here aren’t any you’ve ever seen in stores either - they’re largely from the time period they’re to be representing. Some are more modern, but you get the feeling that they don’t exist anywhere else but under the Operator’s influence. You find a few books that talk about the early history of proxies, some on independents, but nothing to inform you on what you had found.

It’s honestly a little maddening. You check in with Hoodie when you have to - he asks you to list the spines of the books you’re currently looking at - and then you’re back to your fruitless search. You run up and down the halls of the history section looking for anything when you hear static begin to buzz in your heads. The feeling travels upwards like the vines you felt earlier from your heels to your chest. When they claw deep into your heart, you feel a pull. And once again, like a sailor beckoned to the rocks due to a siren’s song, you follow it.

It twists and turns you through the shelves, making you zip past the few proxies and independents that are currently visiting this wing of the library before you’re drawn to a rotunda. You look backwards and see in the distance the front doors of the library. When did this place get a middle wing? It was just straight shelves and a wall with large windows overlooking the rolling hills of the woods. You turn your attention upwards to the ceiling of the rotunda. There’s a large skylight that allows sunlight to cascade down. Around that are gems you don’t even know the name of that weave a mosaic of something positively divine. You allow your gaze to follow the shaft of warm sunlight down, and there, sitting at a table with a book in hand (it looks like a journal) is the Operator himself.

“S-Sir!” You manage to squeak out as you find yourself startled to be in his presence, Heat rises to your cheeks when he looks up from his book to turn his attention to you.

“How did you get here?” He asks, confusion etching his body as he curiously tilts his head.

Your breath hitches. “I’m so sorry,” you apologize, bowing your head almost immediately. “I don’t know how I got here. It just felt like a pull and suddenly I was here? I was in the left wing and looking over history books and I-” you continue to rattle off until the Operator holds up his hand, silently signaling you to stop. You do so as soon as he asks.

“I-. It’s no matter,” he waves off. “Come, sit down beside me.” An inky black tendril sprouts from his back as he pulls the chair in front of him out, allowing you to sit in his presence.

You will your stone-like legs forward and attempt to gracefully take a seat in front of him. It’s a slightly awkward silence before he speaks again.

“How have you been, Miss Reader?”

“I’m alright,” you reply, voice no higher than a whisper.

The Operator hums. “Good.”

Another pregnant pause.

“Child, where is your book?”

“I uh, didn’t grab one?” You answer softly. You can tell the Operator is looking at you with what he can convey to his fullest as confusion. “When I was pulled here I just.. Followed,” you attempt to explain. “I don’t know why I’m here.”

“And what have you done today?” He asks, giving his passing attention to you like a father would.

You bite your lip before steering the conversation towards the room you saw. “I think I met someone.”

“You did, did you?”There’s a passing interest as if he’s saying ‘that’s nice, honey.’

You nod. “She was in a tea room-”

He pauses.

“I found her by accident-”

He makes sure he’s hearing you correctly.

“Her hair was golden-”

He looks up.

“She had plants-”

He’s sitting upright now.

“She had a cat-”

He leans forward.

“Her smile rivaled the stars-”

He’s focusing so intently on you now.

“Her voice was like honey-”

He entirely focused on you.

“She was beautiful.”

The Operator’s ichor pauses for just a moment as he takes in the description of the woman you described. It makes a part of him sing and another part of him sob. He hasn’t heard of her in so, so long.

When you look up, you see the Operator practically leaned halfway over the table and entirely focused on you. It makes you jump. “I’m sorry,” you apologize sheepishly, thinking you saw something you shouldn’t have. “I wasn’t thinking and I uh, think the mansion led me to her?”

The Operator wordlessly nods. “Was she pouring tea?” He asked, voice so much gentler than anything you could ever expect him to conjure up.

You slowly nod. “She was.”

The Operator suddenly slumps down, making you jolt. You rise on instinct to help him when he waves you back down. “Do you realize who you’ve come into contact with?” He asks.

You shake your head. “I’m afraid not, Sir,” you say with slight remorse.

The Operator chuckles deeply - it rumbles his chest and in your head. “You found her.” He could smile, you were sure it would be from ear to ear if he had the correct facial features. “All these years later and you found her.” He emphasizes you like a bittersweet affirmation.

“Who is she?” You ask softly.

Your boss sits back up again. “Someone who loves me,” his tendril sprouts once again from his back and moves towards you. “Someone who loves you,” it taps your nose. “Someone who loves us.” The tendril makes a grand, sweeping gesture.

You take in the words and nod, still not knowing what they mean. Upon seeing your confusion, he decides to elaborate.

“A long, long time ago, in a realm you could not begin to fathom, there was light and there was dark,” he begins, his voice slipping into something akin to someone saying a bedtime story. “I was the light, and that cur we call Zalgo was the dark.”

You scrunch your nose at the sound of his name.

“The dark and the light were born from nothing, and she was beautiful.” His audible smile is actually endearing to hear. “Throughout the years, the light and the dark fought, constantly at each other's throats. It was woven in the threads of history, it had been our birthright. When we came to this place, this planet after being cast from our home - a palace amongst all palaces, a kingdom that rose far above any other, the nothingness came with us. She called herself Liebevolle Frau. She loved her children.” By this point in the story, the Operator has taken the liquids from the coffee cup he drinks from and animated them into the characters for this story.

You watch with stars in your eyes.

“But no guardian is without its favorites, and I happened to be hers.” Liebevolle Frau’s figure was shown sheltering the Operator’s much smaller one. “And this caused a rift that could not be mended through the light and dark. Eventually, the dark waged war on the light.”

It’s a war you’re still fighting to this day.

“In the 1500s, long after this mansion had been built and my power continued to grow, Zalgo had almost wiped us off the face of the earth to splatter out remains across all the five realms. Liebevolle Frau, thought caught off guard,” that would explain the tea, “sheltered me and protected this place and all who resided in it. At the time,” the Operator looks at you. “Independents and proxies had lived here much more commonly than they do now.”

You smile softly.

“Liebevolle Frau’s power had been pushed to its limit in holding back her first born son, and mind, as well as her heart, broke because of it. In her remaining moments of lucidity, she imbued herself, her soul,” the liquids take the form of something fluttering and soft, like a bird, “her everything, and became the place I hold jurisdiction over today.”

Your eyes widen as you think back to the odd feelings you’ve had coming here for today - and Toby’s slip-up.

“I have not been able to find her since the late 1500s,” The Operator explains as the liquids dance back into the coffee mug, the figure of Liebevolle Frau taking a hair longer than the rest. “She lives in everything.”

You’re honestly speechless over everything the Operator has said because it’s so… It’s strangely heartfelt. You’ve never even spoken face to face with your boss and when you do, it’s because some force is guiding you to do so. But if that force felt so alive, it must have meant she wanted you to know.

“Her physical form,” you finally manage to wisp out. “She wanted to be at peace, didn’t she?”

The Operator chuckles deeply. “I would assume so.”

Before you can respond to anything or even come up with another response, you hear both Masky AND Hoodie yelling for you in your head. The jarring difference between your boss’s gentle voice and Masky and Hoodie crying out for blood is enough to make you jump (once again).

Upon seeing your sudden switch in atmosphere, the Operator hushes the voices in your head and calls them to his side.

Toby is the first to show up though, and quickly trailing after him is Masky and Hoodie. They both look ready to reprimand you but upon seeing you sitting with the Operator, nothing but reverence crosses their minds and bodies.

“Good evening, Sir,” Masky says as he bows his head. “Are you well?”

“Thoughtful, aren't you, Timothy?” There’s no animosity or anger in the Operator’s tone, but it makes Masky blush all the same.

A pregnant pause passes.

“I was just speaking with your newest member, Miss Reader,” a pale hand gestures to you. “Come, join us. I could use the company.”

You watch as confused glances get shared between your three comrades before they take a seat beside you.

A pleasant silence passes through the air before a gentle humming that’s sweeter than honey overtakes it like a passing breeze.

[morizoras-cave]

Drink (Request)

Ryan Reynolds x teen!daughter!reader

Genre: angst, fluffy ending

Request Description: Could you maybe do a Ryan Reynolds x teen!reader where the reader maybe goes to a party and something gets slipped into her drink but she calls Ryan and says she doesn’t feel well and he gets her and looks after her? Only if this is okay for you to write and you feel comfortable doing it. I love you work so much🥺 Thank you!🤍

Warnings: attempted rape, drugging, language

(A/N): this is my first ryan reynolds post. v excited. reading this back, i realized that this could be taken as victim blaming. the beginning part where ryan is talking about how his daughter “shouldn’t wear that dress out” was more of a “awww look hes a protective and good dad”. i dont believe in victim blaming at all. (off topic here) also i wrote the last part of this drunk af. anyway i hope y’all still enjoy. now smell you later losers!! break begun!

“Y/n, you are not going to a party in that outfit!”

You glared at your dad, who was both shaking his head and wagging his finger in disapproval. 

“What’s so wrong with this dress?” you protested, crossing your arms. 

“The boys and the girls will be after you in seconds! I will not have some sweaty teen thinking something nasty about my daughter!” his voice was high (as always), as he squealed his argument. You rolled your eyes. 

Your mom walked into the room to grab something from the fridge, but stopped and looked at you. “Nice dress, N/n, you going to a party?” 

“Don’t encourage this!” Ryan hissed and you smiled scornfully. Blake’s laughter came throughout the room and she stopped beside you with her glass of milk in her hand. 

“Calm down, Ryan. She’s growing up!” 

“Nuh uh!” your dad looked away, still unsatisfied. You couldn’t help but giggle. 

“Y/n, just go to your party. I’ll deal with the grump lord,” your mom pushed you towards the entrance. Ryan’s face twisted into that of someone betrayed by his closest. 

“Woah, woah, woah! Grump lord? I have a code name? In my own house?” 

You skipped to the entrance room, sliding on your jacket and your shoes, smiling playfully. “Wait!” your dad yelled and footsteps nearing you, as he jogged to the entrance. You looked at him. 

“Just.. Call me if you’re in trouble. Anything at all,” he knew he was defeated. Although, you loved basking in the glory of victory, you couldn’t help but smile at your dad’s kind words.

“I will,” you promised.

The party was loud and booming. Every inch of the house was hot (in an uncomfortable way) and crowded, teenagers rubbing against each other and dancing. You found yourself with your friends in the living room, dancing to the sound of a Nicki Minaj song. 

“I’m gonna go get a drink!” you yelled over the music. Your friends, extremely intoxicated and doing ‘the stanky leg’, gave you a mindless thumbs up, and continued to dance. You giggle was drowned out in the music. 

You squeezed your way past different people, finally making it to the table with all the liquor. The boy who was hosting had miraculously bought enough for there to just be an all-you-can-drink table. 

The unnerving feeling of someone watching you became immediately clear. You looked around, finding the person fairly quickly. It was a boy, maybe a couple of years older than you, with a drunken gaze and tousled hair. He was smirking at you. You rolled your eyes and poured yourself a gin and tonic. 

The moment the drink was finished, someone poked your shoulder. You looked up. It wasn’t the same boy as before. This one was bigger and broader. He had the same knowing smirk on his face. You felt unnerved.

“Hey. Is this your friend over here? They look pretty smashed, you might want to check on them,” he pointed to somewhere behind him, taking all your attention from your drink to your idiot friends. You told them not to drink too much.

“Can you show me where they are?” you mumbled and the boy nodded, pulling you away from your drink. He led you to somewhere entirely different in the house, where a girl you’d never seen in your life was doubled over, puking on the poor host’s carpet. 

“I don’t know this girl,” you explained and the boy’s mouth made an ‘o’ shape. He sighed and then shrugged.

“Sorry, I thought I saw you talking earlier. Sorry to bother you,” then he walked off. You shook your head at the weird incident and walked back to you drink. You started gulping it down hungrily, deciding you were definitely too sober to be at this party.

 Almost immediately, you started feeling extremely drunk. Extremely. Which was weird, you thought, but it was hard to concentrate on it, when the environment was so loud and your thoughts were so blurry. 

Then, slowly, you realised that you didn’t usually feel like this when you were drunk. You tried to rationalise it. Maybe you just put too much gin in your drink? Maybe you had forgotten that you’d drunk something? Whatever the case, you started feeling weird. 

Everything was spinning. You wouldn’t have been able to find your friends if you wanted to. Then, in your chaotic state, your eyes passed someone else’s eyes, and you recognised them. It was the boy from earlier, the broad one, smirking at you. This time, his smirk felt alarming. Chilling. 

That moment was when the penny dropped. Your head snapped to the other boy, the one who’d just watched you. He gave you a grin. 

You were shaking, blinking away tears. You realised the position you were in. You were prey. And you were vulnerable. You took a few shaky steps, trying to make it seem like you hadn’t just realised you’d been roofied. 

When your back was turned to them, and you were stood behind a wall of dancing bodies, you pulled out your phone from your bag. You couldn’t tell if it was your vision, or if your hands were shaking, but everything was buzzing, unable to keep still. 

Your finger hovered over his number. What if you weren’t roofied? What if you were just drunk and silly? How embarrassing would that be? You felt tears prick your eyes. 

His voice echoed in your head. “Call me if you’re in trouble. Anything at all.”

You pressed down on his number, bringing the phone to your ear. You could hardly form a sentence. Everything was moving and it was so loud. 

“Hello?” Your dad’s voice was like cutting open this hellspace to some sort of heaven. It felt safe. You closed your eyes, a tear running down your face. 

“Hi, dad,” you had to yell, “can you- can you come pick me up?” 

There was a moment of silence from the phone, before he said: “Sure, why? You’re at Erik’s house, right?” 

“Yeah, Erik’s house. Let’s talk about this later!” then you hung up. It almost felt like your heart was shaking in your chest. It was too much, all of it. You could hardly walk, but you took a step towards the door, then several more. 

You feverishly grabbed the door handle, trying desperately to open the door, but you weren’t strong enough. It was a chilling realisation, that you weren’t even strong enough to open a door. 

“Do you need a help?” 

You jumped and shrieked, but it was drowned out by the music. No one noticed. You looked up and you had to stand there for a moment, before you realised that it wasn’t any of the boys you’d seen before. 

This boy looked concerned. You couldn’t even process how you must look, tear-streaked face, ruined makeup, shaking and helplessly grasping a door. You didn’t care. 

“Here,” he mumbled and opened the door for you. You whispered a ‘thank you’, and wobbled out on the street. You heard the boy leave, but you kept standing there, waiting uncomfortably for your dad to show up. 

Eventually, you saw his car pulling up in the distance. You breathed out in relief and dashed to his car, opening the door and sitting down beside you dad. He was looking at you, brows furrowed in concern. 

It was a scary thing. He was always afraid of seeing you like that. Seeing you scared and drunk and desperate. As you sat down his hand grasped yours. 

“Are you okay, Y/n? What happened?” 

You shook your head. You felt so unfocused. It was impossible to understand everything that was going on. You missed being sober. “My- My drink,” you mumbled senselessly, unable to speak normally. 

“What about your drink?” Ryan pressed, squeezing your hand. You were his child. He loved you. He was worried. Beyond belief.

“I-I think someone.. I think someone put something in it..” you mumbled, head swinging. You were far from the normal you. Everything was swinging right by you. 

“You think someone..?” Ryan trailed off. You saw his knuckles turn white as he grasped the steering wheel angrily. “Did they- Did they touch you?”

You shook your head. You saw your dad breathe out in relief, his hand never leaving yours. 

“Alright, I’ll just drive you home. It’ll be fine,” he mumbled (mostly to himself) as he started the car and drove away from the booming, partying house. “It’ll be just fine, N/n.”

He kept mumbling to himself, but you fell asleep in the car. Eventually everything was too much for you, so you just decided to close your eyes. It was a good decision. Sleep was so peaceful. 

Ryan drove you home, carrying you into their house and into your room. “What’s wrong with her?” Blake would yell, confused and scared, but Ryan would just focus on getting you to bed. 

“She was roofied. Someone put something in her fucking drink! She could’ve been- She could’ve been fucking raped!” he ranted to his wife, whilst you slept peacefully in the other room. 

Needless to say both your mom and your dad were much more overprotective after that, both with parties and with boys. But it was okay. You woke up safe and sound, and you were happy your dad had gotten you before something awful happened.

Honestly, you didn’t oppose their overprotectiveness, because after that night you felt like you needed it. No matter what way you twisted it, that night fucked you up. You weren’t as reckless or careless after that. And you got help from a professional, but still. It was an awfully traumatising experience. 

You were just happy your dad had been with you that night. And that he cared for you. Of course, he would. He was your dad. He loved you more than anything else in the world. You had no reason to worry, not when you had your dad by your side. 

___________________________

Tag List:

@hera-the-writer @marvel-madness @40srogcrs @whatthefuckimbisexual @snarky–starky @garbage-potato @lozzypoz321 @allthecreativeonesaretaken @missamericana713 @rororo06 @shady80smusicsingercolor @ireadfanficforfun @deephideoutmilkshake @rae-is-typing @sophs-library @herecomesthewriterwitch @alicedanganh @eviemarvel @idk123906

[buckyownsmylife]

You found me - Loki Laufeyson smut

The one where you’re on your period.

Warnings: period sex, oral sex (f), p in v, breeding kink, praise kink

Word count: 3.5K

A/N: Day 7 of kinktober and this one is coming out unrevised because I’m fucking tired and I don’t have a beta. The prompts were praise kink and period sex. Also, Loki is nasty and if you’re squirmy about the subject of blood in sex, you probably shouldn’t read this.

Loki’s P.O.V.

I’d watched the sweet human grow more agitated with each passing day. Upon my arrival at the tower, she immediately caught my eye, not only because of her indisputable beauty, but mostly due to how charming and approachable she was even to me, someone barely considered bearable by most of the other inhabitants of the building.

And still, she didn’t seem to care. Not that the others, her friends, didn’t like if she so much as stood closer to me, and not that I had once tried to destroy her entire planet. “You’re not your mistakes, Loki,” she’d answered when I inquired, at last beaten by my own curiosity. “To me, you have a clean slate. You’ve been nothing but polite and courteous to me since you arrived. I don’t have any reason to continuously mistreat you for crimes you’ve already been acquitted for or that you’ve already suffered for.”

She truly was a mystery to me, her kindness so unusual to my being that I couldn’t help but to drink it in as much as possible, looking for her whenever I didn’t have anything else to do, which was constantly. So when she started to change, despite the small nature of the differences, it all seemed that clearer to me.

It started with her bursting into tears in the middle of breakfast when my bull of a brother accidentally bumped into her, making her drop the cup of tea in her hands. Everyone was startled by the sight, much more than by the porcelain breaking, concerned that she had somehow managed to hurt herself, but after a while, she rubbed her eyes, clearing them of tears before dismissing our preoccupations with a wave of her hand.

“‘M sorry, I’m just sensitive today. I felt guilty over breaking something, God, I’m such a klutz.” No one even had the time to note that it hadn’t been her fault or that the tin man had more than enough money to buy thousands of cups just like the one now destroyed, because she was out of the kitchen in a hurry, taking the light of the morning with her.

Or at least, that’s what it seemed like to me.

Then, the next day, she didn’t appear for breakfast at all. I knocked on her bedroom’s door to find her still lying down, completely wrapped up in her covers, a look of pain in her face. “What’s wrong, my sweet?” I asked, immediately running towards her to check for any sort of bruises, but she simply waved me away.

“‘S just cramps, Loki. Don’t worry about it. I got a heating pad over my belly, I should be down in a minute.” I actually found myself pouting, unconvinced and still worried about who I considered to be my only friend, but when she smiled softly at me, nodding to assure me of her safety, I decided to grant her the space she apparently needed.

It did not mean I wasn’t still concerned.

Then the third day came and with it, an unexpected outburst that consisted of her screaming at that new Barnes guy for being so “awful” to me when he was the person who should understand what I’d been through the most.

Overall, I was definitely very confused about seeing her that angry. She wasn’t the kind of person to lose her head like that. But my confusion was easily surpassed by how touched I was by her demonstration of loyalty.

It had also left me incredibly aroused, and once again I had to resort to taking care of myself before going to sleep, but that is something I was trying very hard to ignore, in order not to scare her away.

But then, the fourth day came, and with it, the most puzzling display of foreign emotions I’d ever seen on her so far. It started with her avoiding me for the better part of the day, before jumping three feet in the air when I managed to find her in the kitchen after everyone had gone out for drinks.

“Y-your fingers are cold,” she explained, but I’d always been cold and she’d never once seemed to have any sort of particular reaction to the temperature of my skin before. “Everyone’s gone, I think I’m gonna call it an early night.” 

I wrapped my (cold) fingers around her wrist before she could run away from me. “I was hoping we could take advantage of their absence and watch that movie you’ve been talking about for a while.”

She seemed hesitant, and I tried to ignore how my heart hurt at seeing her avoid my eyes. “Please?” I asked, aware of how I couldn’t remember the last time I’d done so, much less for another person’s companion. “I miss you.”

That last confession came out unintentionally, and I could already see myself backtracking when she raised her beautiful bright eyes to meet mine, smiling softly up at me in a sweet, innocent look that shouldn’t have turned me on as much as it did.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Ok,” I agreed, biting my lip to stop a moan from surfacing at the simple sight of Loki smiling openly at me, because of me. “Let’s do it.” I pulled him to the living room, trying not to shiver from how his fingers felt interlaced with mine, knowing he’d think it was because the cold bothered me. I didn’t want him feeling worse than I’d already made him feel, I was already too guilty for my behavior these last few days.

I put on the movie we’d been commenting about before locating a nice blanket to cover us with, before hesitating at the realisation that I really shouldn’t sit as close to him as I usually did. 

Unfortunately for me, he noticed, raising one of his perfect eyebrows as I tried to play it off as nothing, laughing at myself before taking a seat next to him on the sofa. “Let’s watch it!” I tried to come off as excited - I’d been the one commenting on how much I wanted him to watch Hocus Pocus for days now, but the second the movie started, I knew I was a lost cause. 

Being so close to him, sharing a blanket, being engulfed by his natural perfume of spices and winter, I felt myself growing wet despite my best wishes. Fuck. He was right there. But I knew he’d never see me in any sort of flattering, attractive way, so I had to get a grip over myself, because I didn’t want him to notice that there was something wrong with me.

“Are you ok?” He asked, a few minutes into the movie, as I tried my best to remain absolutely immobile in order not to feel his skin against mine. It was only after he asked that I realized I wasn’t even breathing properly, and I must have looked pathetic, sitting there like a statue, pretending to watch the television.

“Yes, yes,” I breathed out, adjusting myself in hopes to get more comfortable and hopefully calm down his suspicions. “Don’t worry about me. Watch the movie!” The problem now was that the way I was sitting, sitting on both my legs that were now curled underneath me, the throbbing of my clit was just that much more obvious, and I was on the verge of moaning just from the little bit of friction the position offered me.

Fuck, I hate this. 

I tried my best to shift in my seat as inconspicuous as possible, but every movement I made now sent a direct jolt to my desperate pussy. I was on the verge of crying when his voice interrupted my own internal monologue again.

“Okay, enough of this, Y/N. You will tell me what’s going on. Speak. Now.” The authoritative tone of his voice didn’t help my little situation at all, and at last, I found myself whimpering under his penetrating gaze. Immediately, my hands came up to cover my mouth, ashamed beyond belief that I’d done something so mortifying, especially since Loki’s eyebrows were now close to his hairline as he stared back at me with his mouth hanging open.

“Are you… Are you aroused?” I couldn’t really admit it, far too embarrassed to speak, so I just hid my face in my hands as I rested my elbows on my thighs. “Did I… Did I do this to you?”

Loki’s P.O.V.

I watched as she started giggling at my question, uncertain as to where that response would lead me as far as the question I’d asked was concerned. When I didn’t offer any sort of accompanying commentary, opting to let the silence in the room rest, she at last sighed, revealing her gorgeous face to me again.

“Yes,” she admitted, and I felt like my heart had stopped beating for a second. She bit her lower lip again, avoiding my gaze as she stared at the tv I’d turned off minutes ago. “I’m sorry, Loki. I know we’re friends, it’s just… I’m on my period and I get really fucking horny and…”

“You’re on your what?” I interrupted, unfamiliar with the term she was utilizing. She blinked a few times, like she wasn’t expecting me to be concerned about that particular part of her speech.

“My period,” she repeated, scratching the back of her neck. “I’m taking by your question that Asgardian women don’t have it, but us Misgardians do. Well, some of us, and only after we reach a certain age. Basically, we start… bleeding… from our… lower parts. And it’s very messy and emotional because our hormones start acting up and that’s why I’ve been acting crazy these last few days.”

I didn’t know what to say, too concerned with trying to process her words. “You bleed… from your lower parts. Why?” Confusion was all I could understand in the moment, but thankfully, it seemed like she didn’t mind. In fact, by the way her adorable giggle echoed around the room, she seemed very amused by my reaction.

“It’s basically nature's way of punishing us for not getting pregnant.” Well, I wasn’t expecting that. Immediately, perking up, I licked my lips as I dragged my eyes over her body once more, admiring the way her breasts moved with each breath she took.

“And you want my help to deal with that,” I clarified, but when her eyebrows shot up on her forehead, I got confused once again.

“No! I mean… No, of course not. What do you think you could do to help me with this?” She asked, hugging herself, her eyes avoiding mine once more. I huffed, getting tired of this and her sheepishness.

“Well, I could put a baby in you, for one.” By the way her mouth fell open, I could see that the idea shocked her, and I wasn’t sure if it was in a good way. “At the very least, I could help you deal with your arousal levels. Don’t you think that would be a much nicer way to spend the evening, than stealing glances at me while clenching your beautiful thighs?”

She shut her mouth but looked to the other side of the room, pondering my words as I waited for any sign of agreement so I could pounce. I was already licking my lips in expectation when she turned back to me, a supplicant look on her face.

“I-I don’t… I mean, yes, sure, but… Loki, I’m all bloodied!” I chuckled as I pulled her to my lap, enjoying her warmth against me. Carefully pushing away the stray hairs across her face, I made sure she was looking deep in my eyes when I talked to her again.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Well, I’ve always enjoyed the taste of blood.” The shiver that ran through my spine at his words and the feeling of his cold breath over my mouth stopped me from realizing what was going on until he had me in his arms, half-way through our hallway already.

“Loki…” I tried to warn him once more, despite desperately desiring anything he wanted to be doing to me, but he stopped me with a hush, his beautiful green eyes sparkling as he looked down at me in his arms.

“No more thinking, my sweet. Just feeling.”

The first thing I felt was the softness of his covers as he laid me down on his bed with all the care in the world, like I was the most precious thing he had ever held between his arms. “I never thought I’d see you here, like this,” he whispered, his eyes drinking me in, making my breath hitch at the lust I saw there.

The second thing I felt was his heart beating against mine in a quick dance as he laid down over me, both of our shirts dismissed as he kissed me deeply and languidly. “You really want this,” I noticed, finally realizing that Loki had been wishing for the same thing as I had, probably for just as long.

The only answer I got was a bruise on my neck from his icy lips, before he continued to trace a path with his tongue that took him directly to my nipples. “These look so sensitive, my dove.” He wasn’t wrong. I was sensitive all over, especially after the new nickname he’d just assigned me. “Do not worry, I’ll take proper care of them.”

He drew the nipples with the edge of his tongue, his eyes connected with mine the entire time, and I struggled to keep in the gasps and moans that were begging to be released. Almost as if he was reading my mind, he ordered, “Let them out, my sweet. I want to hear all of the delicious sounds you make. I’ve been dreaming about them for too long.”

The symphony of my own sounds of pleasure then broke free, adding to the dizzy feeling in my head as Loki continued to nibble and suck on each inch of skin available to him. The curtain of raven hair temporarily blocked him from me as he moved lower and lower across my body in a snail’s pace, until his lips were dancing on the edge of my jeans. Only then did he raise his beautiful eyes to meet mine again. 

“May I take them off?” I could only nod, but it was enough for him to open that blinding smile of his, while his fingers made quick work of my pants and panties. The smell of blood then reached my nose, albeit timidly, and I groaned, suddenly snapped back to reality. “What’s this?” Loki asked, his fingers playing with the string of my tampon.

“It’s one of the tools women use to contain the blood inside our bodies. I have to change them from time to time, but at least I don’t get permanently dirty during my period.” He didn’t immediately say anything, too preoccupied with analyzing my pussy, while I trembled in expectation under his unwavering gaze.

“Can I pull it out?” Loki asked, his eyes shining with a distinctive sparkle I couldn’t really identify. 

“Why?” I hesitated, unsure if I wanted him to see the mess it’d certainly become, even if I desperately wanted to have him inside of me.

“Because I want to taste you, my dove.” He teased me with tiny little kisses over my navel, a mischievous smile on his lips. “And I desperately want to feel you from the inside.”

I didn’t have anything to say to that, but Loki simply took my silence as an agreement. Soon, his tongue was tracing circles around my clit, until it finally closed in on it, before he softly sucked it inside his mouth. And I was a goner.

Thinking was impossible, and he was right, all I could do was feel. I didn’t even notice he’d already taken off my tampon until I felt his tongue going lower and lower, finding my wet hole and plunging inside of it.

He moaned at the taste of the wetness he found there, and I could only tremble in his arms and move my hips to fuck myself on his tongue. “And you wanted to deprive me of this…” He actually looked disappointed in me as he looked down on my cunt perfectly on display for him. He held my lower lips open with both of his thumbs before diving in once more, slurping and groaning and I felt myself cumming just from the deprivation of it all.

At the new flow of wetness that hit his lips, Loki actually growled against my pussy, stretching his jaw to encompass my whole pussy with his mouth. “I could taste you forever, my sweet…” he whispered when he finally pulled away, pushing two long fingers inside of me and pumping a few times as I whined when he touched my sweet spot, pressing harshly against in before pulling back and admiring the mixture of blood and cum in his fingers. “But I really need to be inside of you now.”

After sucking on his own digits until they were clean, Loki stepped out of the bed to remove his pants, revealing a gorgeously long cock, the head red and weeping as he pumped it a few times while looking down at the mess I was, sprawled out over his cover for his viewing pleasure. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he commented, almost to himself, and I moaned at the simple comment, catching his attention as his eyes flew back to stare directly at me again. “You get aroused when I compliment you.” It wasn’t a question, and I wouldn’t know what to answer if it were. However, to both of our eyes, it was clear that it was nothing but a statement of the truth.

“Come here, my little dove. Let me ease my throbbing hardness in that perfect warm cunt of yours.” Having yanked me to the edge of the bed by one of my ankles, he pushed inside of me swiftly, cautiously watching my face for any signs of discomfort. “How does it feel, my sweet? To have me inside of your body? Because to me, it’s like reaching Valhalla while remaining on Midgard. You’re so perfect. The perfect flower for me. I think I made the right choice in deciding to deposit the future prince in you.”

He didn’t give me any time to process the information he so casually dropped on me, immediately starting to fuck me with long and deep thrusts that made me feel his cock deep inside my belly.

Loki’s P.O.V.

“Oh, look at you, my sweet… so perfect, accepting me deep inside of you. Can you see it? Look, how much of you is already mine, my love.” I carefully reached her nape to pull her so she could view the protuberance in her lower belly every time I pushed in. “This is where our child will grow. I can’t wait to see you round with my seed.”

Y/N started to sob as I quickened the pace with which I speared her, her nails carving its marks on my shoulders and back. “Lo-Loki, what are you talking about?” She screamed over the sounds of our passionate lovemaking, and I grinned, rubbing my nose on her neck.

“About me making sure you won’t have your period again, my love. Wasn’t this what we talked about just before?” Her eyes grew big at my words, but before she could say anything else, I hit her special spot repeatedly, making her head fall back against the pillow as she screamed her release. “There you go, my sweet… my perfect girl. You want my seed? Say you want to be mine, my dove, say you’ll be only mine until the end of time.” 

I closed my eyes as I felt my own high fast approaching, my breathing getting heavier as our movements became even harsher, almost animalistic. “I-I want it, Loki. Make me… Make me yours.”

The sound of her melodic voice asking for my release was what brought me over the edge, and I made sure to continue to pump it further inside of her until I could no longer move, finally allowing myself to drop on top of her warm body.

“Loki…” She called out to me after a few minutes, when I was almost embraced by the sweet hands of slumber.

“Call me my prince,” I immediately interrupted, making myself more comfortable while remaining inside of her.

“My prince…” She tried again, earning an affirmative hum this time. “You know my period only stops while I’m pregnant, right?”

I took some time to think her words through, while I exchanged our positions so she’d be leaning over my chest. “That only means I’ll have to keep you pregnant until eternity, my sweet.”

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Heyyyy! SO as a local comteologist- okay sorry lmao 😂 I was wondering! Could you maybe write about an mc that is very affectionate? Because I am like that and I would give my ALL and just everything for someone I love. So, maybe the guys are pretending to be asleep and they hear mc admitting her undying love for them? I don't want to burden you! So, I think Will, Jean, Leo and Napoleon would be fine :D

I love you! And please take care of your self cuz corona is a hondje- sorry lmao

Have all of my uwus my lovely, I relate HIGHKEY I’m ungodly affectionate irl~

You take care of yourself too! Tyty 💖💖💖 nothing to apologize for I love a good clowning, esp if Theo gets clowned in the process 😂😂

And never apologize for using my esteemed title I will die on this Comte-thirsting hill (☆｀• ω •´)ｂ

I hope these attempts bring you joy! 

William Shookspeare:

Our v creative playwright boy was just vibin’. He had a long day at the (obnoxious thespian voice) theater and while he loves the art with all of his being, the man is t i r e d. MC was late to bed and while he prefers to wait for her to join him no he is not horny perish the thought he just started dozing off from the exhaustion. He’s not sure when the lights go out, but he feels an immeasurable warmth around him. Faintly, he can make out a voice murmured at his ear, a gentle hand running through his hair. (I s2g if this bih says “Puck?” I’m gonna smack him for MC)

“Had a long day, hm?” He’s only just coming to, and can’t muster the energy to reply or open his eyes. “I’m sure this next performance will be the best one yet! You surprise me every day, Will...”

“Try not to work yourself too hard, sweetheart. Your work may one day be the world’s greatest marvel.”

He wasn’t sure what it was about the words that made his lips tremble. Was it the praise that always seemed to flow forth at a moment’s notice, the real kind he was so unaccustomed to? Or was it that unshakeable calm; her faith in him unmoved by any fear or doubt--the kind that made him wonder briefly if she was dull all those years ago. Now he was just thankful it was still here, no matter how undeserving he may be.

“But you will always be my entire world, my greatest marvel. I love you too much to let the world have you.”

Jeanne D’Arc (REEEEEE MY GOODEST BOY OTL):

It was early one morning, frost blossoming in fractals along the transparent surface of the bedside window. An inevitable, biting chill lingers in the room while the sun is fighting to climb past the horizon, its time so limited in these winter months. She watches as the light casts a gentle gray over the bare walls--something she promised to remedy soon--so reminiscent of how he appeared to her at first. Pure and bright, but still fighting off a darkness she knew so little about.

The thought made her draw him to her protectively, careful not to wake him up as she tucked him close to her heart. He was so warm, even despite the frigid weather. A product of his time as a soldier? She was never sure, but she was always touched by how often he used that warmth in service to her. 

She remembered earlier the other day, when she returned home from some grocery shopping with Sebas. Concern was overflowing from his stoic face--it was there if you knew where to look for it; his eyes a little more narrow, the line of his mouth closer to a frown. All at once his hands were reaching for hers, relieving her of whatever she allowed him to carry while walking into the kitchen alongside her. When Sebas stepped out again he took her hands in his, pressing them along his face. She had cried out, knowing her hands were freezing--it had to be painful to warm them in such a way. But he only smiled that beautiful smile to quell her distress, the one that always took her breath away, and insisted he could do no less.

“The same goes for me too, though, Jeanne.” she looked at the fierce mark on his face, so unworthy of someone so gentle. She resisted every urge to soothe her fingers across it, loathe to wake him up. She didn’t notice the fingers that twitched at her hip, his signs of stirring subtle. “Whenever you need me, whenever you can’t think of a good reason to walk out of this room. All you need to do is find me, okay? I love you so, so much.”

Leonardo Da Binchi (no i will not apologize. he deserves to be clowned, glorious moron):

Once again her lover was gloriously strewn across the library floor, arms crossed and fast asleep. An exasperated smile found her face at the sight. Perhaps it would have been a surprise at first, but nowadays she would just roll her eyes and walk past. Sometimes, if she was feeling forlorn or a little reckless, she would climb into his lap just as he was. He seemed to enjoy being woken up that way though, so of course she couldn’t give him the satisfaction every time; a woman likes to change things up. And sometimes she was too busy to spare the time.

Even so, the slowly dimming shadows under his eyes were a relief to see. While the celebration of his birthday could only be a blessing, she knew what a double-edged blade it could be. It invoked so many wounds that hadn’t yet healed. While she wished he would share that burden with her--however heavy it may be--she slapped her own cheeks lightly at the impatient thought. Give him time...

“I know you think you have to carry everything alone. And in some ways, it’s something I admire so much about you--the way you always seem to know just how to move forward. Like nothing can shake you.”

She leaned down close to him, bracing herself against the bookshelf as she pressed a kiss gently against his temple. “But know that whenever you find yourself wavering, or even if you just need a place to rest, I’m right here. I’ll always be right here. I love you so much more than you think, Leonardo...”

She stopped herself before she could finish the thought, knowing it wasn’t what he wanted to hear: “more than my own life.”

Napoleon Bonaparte (oh my little lion man...):

They were spending a nice afternoon in the courtyard, as a lovey-dovey couple do, and they went under the veranda to find some relief from the midday sun. Surprising literally no one, our sweet emperor started to doze after some yummy tea time snackies--drifting asleep against MC’s shoulder. She adjusted a bit to change the angle of the lean, making sure he wasn’t putting too much pressure on his neck. Little puffs of air made her bangs flutter as he breathed low and even, and she smiled.

He’d had a guard jobs back to back recently, which meant precious little time to spend with him. Restless and quieter than usual, she had suggested a little stroll together around the courtyard; admiring the flowers and telling him about the books she’d been reading to fill the silence of those lonely nights. It wasn’t long before he started to smile more, snickering when she gave ludicrous summaries of the characters and plot. 

Early that morning she had taken the time to make perfect tea time sweets, fully anticipating--and hoping--it would encourage him to rest. So often he would be worried about her missing out on things or trying to plan more elaborate dates, but if she were honest she didn’t care much for extravagance or constant excitement. These tender moments where he could trust her (and the mansion’s perimeter) enough to fall fast asleep, no nightmares in sight, was enough to fill her heart with so much joy.

“I know you can’t help but want to do everything you can for the people around you; protecting and serving others is your life. I never want to be a reason you feel you need to stop doing that.” She murmured in the silence, playing with the buttons on his coat with a faint smile. “But even so, remember you always have a home to return to. More than that, no matter how powerful or skilled; you’re also one man. A man I love more than anything else in this world, a man I always want by my side--if he’ll have me, that is.”

She took the hand that was entwined with her own, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of his palm as his lashes trembled. “I love you, Leon. Whether I see you every moment of every day, or only in stolen moments between assignments. That will never change. There will be times where you belong to the whole world, but this” she placed a hand gently over his heart “will always belong to me. Let it lead you home to me, sweetheart.”

And because I can’t help myself, I added Comte, Mozart and Vincent:

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (he’s the melody I can’t get out of my head DON’T LOOK AT ME):

Despite all of his promises to quit his bad habits, she opened the door later that evening to find him fast asleep against the covered keys of the piano. His shock of white hair was nestled comfortably against his arms, piled together as a makeshift pillow. The sight made her think of those long, long nights in college; thinking you’d close your eyes for a minute--only to be adrift in seconds. 

Smiling wryly, she reached into a nearby closet to retrieve a blanket before draping it gently across his shoulders. Torn between waking him up and guiding him to bed or leaving him be, she decided on the latter. She got the feeling that waking him up would only mean “a few more minor edits” to the composition he was working on, leaving sleep an afterthought. While she knew he often couldn’t help himself, she didn’t want him neglecting his health all the same. 

She’d be back with some hot chocolate in a few hours, just how he liked it.

As she was about to slip back out of the room, the hand at his elbow clumsily grasped for hers resting on the covered keys. Heat bloomed across her face, ears burning as he clung to her warmth. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.” She sat down on the piano bench carefully, trying not to jostle him awake. “Your music will never stop being the most beautiful and soulful sound I’ve ever heard. But even a mind as impressive as yours needs plenty of rest--even more so, I’d wager. You work yourself too hard sometimes, Wolfie.” She leaned until her shoulder brushed his, “But I’ll always be here to make sure you don’t overdo it too much. Sweet dreams my only love.”

Vincent van Gogh (he’s babie your honor):

MC was on her laundry rounds, Vincent’s aprons now thoroughly washed and folded for his use once again. She knocked on the door murmuring a greeting--though fully anticipated he might not respond. While he was usually so sweet and attentive, it was almost like he became an entirely different person when painting. Utterly serious, intensely focused; any attempts at speaking to him would require many tries before he came back to himself with a beaming smile. 

She sighed dreamily, easily picturing it. His eyes would always be stunning, a cerulean to rival the calm waters of the Mediterranean Sea. But in the midst of his greatest passion? They burned bright enough to make her forget the rest of the world existed.

Trying not to embarrass herself on unsteady feet, she opened the door cautiously to find his easel abandoned. Shocked, she scanned the rest of the room until she found him strewn across the couch; a blanket haphazard in its provision of cover. With a gentle smile she stored away the fresh aprons in the dresser before she approached him, kneeling close to the couch so that she could tuck him in properly.

He let out a pleased little huff before shifting slightly in his sleep, body angled in her direction. There was a faint smile on his lips, evidence of what was likely a pleasant dream or peaceful rest. She traced the outline of his ear cuff with insatiable fingers, eyes glistening a little when he nuzzled into the faint touch--trapping her between his cheek and his arm. 

“You’re more precious to me than anything else in this world, Vince,” the murmur was barely audible, he didn’t stir. “I can’t imagine my life without you, and if I’m honest--no part of me really wants to imagine it. This warmth is the greatest gift I’ve ever known; thank you for choosing to share it with me. I love you so much, sweetheart.”

Le Comte de Saint Germain (SAN GERUMAN HAKKSHAKKU):

Every day is a long ass day when you have 10+ children (yes, Leonardo, you are in that child count I hope you’re happy >:| ). For all his half-hearted complaints about the exhaustion and noisiness though, he loves his bubs, and wouldn’t have things any other way.

Even so, it doesn’t stop the delighted giggling that shakes her shoulders when she finds him fast asleep in his favorite armchair. His tie is undone and askew, head lolling to the side--any attempt at his usual poise long forgotten. While she most often found him to be charming and delightful, she loved it even more when he felt comfortable sharing these parts of himself too. 

She set aside the tea she would always have prepared at this hour and reached for the coat he had draped across the opposite chair, settling it carefully over his form. Resisting every urge to join him--Sebas would need her help preparing dinner--she carded a hand through his hair, tucking it behind his ear so it wouldn’t tickle him while he was asleep.

He was so lovely like this, face unmarred by the weight of several lifetimes that found him when he was awake. No matter how early she rose when they were together, she rarely ever got the privilege of seeing him a little drowsy, lost to rest as he was now. She brushed light kisses to his eyelids, smiling when he half-sighed her name.

“Tuckered yourself out did you? You big worrywart.” She resisted the urge to find his hand and entwine it with hers. “I promise to watch over them, so rest easy, my dearest love.” She played with the collar, tucking him in further. “I know everyone here is precious to you. But remember that you’re the most important person in my life too,” she leaned her forehead gently against his. “While I love to see everyone get along, I love to see you happy and well-rested even more. You’ll always be the only one for me, [insert Comte’s real name].” 

Bonus continuation because I still can’t help myself apparently, somebody please take my laptop away from me:

Arms like steel bands enclosed her in his embrace, a sleepy exhale washing over her ear as she shivered a little at the sudden warmth.

“Mm, ma cherie, surely you didn’t think you’d get away with that kind of teasing...”

“But I wasn’t teasing you! I was completely serious.”

Laughter shook his chest and hers too, making her melt at the undisguised affection in the hands that settled her close to his heart.

“Then you must be punished for such foul play. To think you would ruthlessly attack me while asleep, bien-aime.”

“And how might I atone for this egregious indiscretion?”

She could feel him smile against her shoulder, the rascal. “Stay here a little while longer with me.” As if he had any intention of letting her go. Not that she minded, honestly.

“Threaten me with a good time.” she mumbled, stroking a hand soothingly along his back as they closed their eyes for a while.

A few more minutes couldn’t do any harm, could it?

[amysteriousmessenger]

‘Alone’ - Jumin Han Drabble

This is my second slightly belated piece for @mysme-rbb​ and for this I was partnered with @aniskul to write a piece for Jumin!! They were very lovely to work with and always super kind and understanding, please look at how much detail went into their artwork and be sure to check out their account!! <3 <3 

- Art by @aniskul​ and the writing is by me!

Jumin stood with Elizabeth the 3rd in his arms, pressed against his chest soundly asleep. She was oblivious to the dark, stormy weather of that night. He wasn’t quite sure what spurred the thought on, but he thought of Rika and how she had vanished from this world, and as he watched his small cat wriggle in his arms, he realised that she, too, would one day leave him. Jumin had thought that he would be fine on his own, he had been before he had Elizabeth the 3rd, so surely, he would be fine after her. Surely.

He pondered his life without Elizabeth the 3rd, the loss of her. How he would have no one to greet in the morning, no one to talk to in his penthouse, no one to greet when he came home. The emptiness of it. The loneliness. Was he lonely? Jumin had never really considered himself as lonely, but he knew how alone he would feel if he no longer had Elisabeth the 3rd.

He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to seek out a ‘partner’ for Elizabeth the 3rd, but it had been a rigorous process. He had spent several weeks researching and interviewing different candidates but struggled to find a male cat that would be good enough for her. He had even had Jaehee working overtime to help him accomplish the task. When he had eventually settled on a father, he had also been a purebred white Persian male with a calm, sweet temperament by the name of Biscuit. Jumin wasn’t entirely sure what he thought of the name, since it seemed rather inelegant for a cat so handsome, but Saeyoung had seemed to enjoy the comedy of it when Jumin spoke of his intentions in the chat. Of course, Saeyoung had also begged Jumin to let him adopt one of Elizabeth the 3rd’s kittens and had been met with a resounding ‘Absolutely not.’ He could never subject a poor kitten to such torture, especially one of Elizabeth the 3rd’s beautiful, perfect children.

Jumin sighed, as a small paw batted at his cheek. It took him a short few moments to figure out why he wasn’t in his bed before the soft cries met his hears once again and he was suddenly wide awake. Elizabeth the 3rd was in labour, she had curled up on the bed next to him and cried in complaints at him. He had employed an entire team of veterinary staff to ensure that her entire pregnancy had gone well, because he wouldn’t put her at any more risk than what was necessary, but she had started delivering almost a week before she was expected to and Jumin had been forced to clear out his entire schedule in order to be with her. He also called the slightly disgruntled medical team out of their homes to be at his penthouse within the hour.

It had been quite a lengthy ordeal, spanning the entire night and consisted of Jumin rarely letting Elizabeth leave his sight while the medical team monitored her vitals. While Zen had claimed it was rather dramatic of him to hire people to monitor her birth when she was ‘just a cat’, Jumin had no real idea of how to help her. He, himself, had no prior experience with cats before he had been gifted Elizabeth, and he had no intentions of replacing the role of a trained professional when it came to helping her.

But by morning, Elizabeth the 3rd had delivered five very small, white kittens. She was well and was already being a very good mother to her new-borns, as Jumin knew she would be, since she was so naturally gifted at everything she set her heart out to do. They were feeding well and he had already chosen their names as Athena, Victoria, Icarus, Edward and, finally, Elizabeth the 4th. They were perfect images of their mother and, for a while, filled that void that had been unknowingly forming in Jumin’s chest.

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

Jumin sighed, closing his front door. It had been an unusually long day. He took his suit jacket off and placed it onto his couch, announcing to Elizabeth the 3rd that he was home. He was met with a singular long meow from her, and several smaller squeaks from her kittens. The kittens had their own room during the day, even though it pained Jumin to keep them behind a closed door while he was out, he didn’t want to risk any of them hurting themselves and him not being able to help them. He always looked forward to seeing them when he got home so late. This day was no different, and he was eager to go back to see them all, eager to have someone excited to see him when he got home.

He prepared their meals, set each place on a diamond-encrusted platter and opened the door to their dayroom. He greeted Elizabeth the 3rd, who was immediately curled into his arms purring while the small white blurs jumped playfully at his suit trousers. He softly petted each of them as they ate before carrying Elizabeth the 3rd over to watch the sun go down over the city with him. Jumin wanted to be closer to the kittens but didn’t want to risk endangering any of them by attempting to carry them all, so instead he sat on the floor next to the large window with them. He hoped that they inherited their mother’s taste for fine views, but they seemed more concerned with playing around in his lap. Well, he was sure that fine taste would come with time.

Jumin sat in silence for a while, wondering why his apartment seemed so quiet despite there being so many living things in it. Living things that could make noise, and play, and talk, and- Oh. They couldn’t talk. He couldn’t have a two-sided conversation with them. He couldn’t ask them about their day or have them ask about his. Is that what he was missing? Conversation? He thought for a moment that perhaps he should call V to come over and share a bottle of wine with him like they used to, but he remembered that V was often away on business too and wouldn’t be able to come over at such short notice. Who else did he have to talk to? His father? He’d rather not deal with his father’s new love interest. Assistant Kang? He already saw enough of her at work. Zen? He scoffed at the thought alone. Absolutely not. So, who?

And it occurred to Jumin, in that second, that he didn’t really have anyone to talk to. While he loved Elizabeth the 3rd and her children, they were not what he was lacking in his life. He needed someone that he could talk to on a mutual level. He wanted to hear about their thoughts and interests, what they thought about the wine over dinner and to help him pick out his tie in the morning. Jumin didn’t have anyone like that, and he realised that he had been attempting to fill the hole in his chest through the wrong course of action. He wouldn’t go as far as to say he was lonely, but the truth of the matter was that Jumin was alone. He was alone at work, and he was alone at home.

[dog-teeth]

2 weeks post op top surgery update!! pics & details under the cut!

i had my 2nd post op appointment on monday, getting the stitches off of my grafts and medical tape off my incisions. other than my limited mobility and some mood stuff and scar care, im pretty much back to normal! im v happy with how my chest looks, and my doctor said i was looking more healed than average for the 2-week mark :)

physical healing:

having the stitches taken off the nipple graft was a bit uncomfy but just felt like a light tugging and only took a few minutes. having the medical tape taken off hurt a bit bc the adhesive pulled on my skin, but it was super fast and not an intense pain at all.

so i had been instructed to keep my nipples very very hydrated with aquaphor (which is why they look shiny here lol), and not to pick at them or rub them. before my appointment yesterday, the entire grafts looked how the nipple does now, all black and scabbed, but i hadn’t been able to tell that it was just dead skin scabbed over & ready to come off because i had been keeping them so hydrated that they didn’t flake off like normal scabs, i thought it was just my bruised healing skin and that the scabbing process had barely started. then, i went into my appointment, and when my doctor took out the stitches, she swabbed the area lightly, and all of the dead skin came off super easily! i was so surprised! turns out almost all of the scabbing of the areola had already happened, i just didn’t know, because it was so different from normal scabs due to the constant hydration. now all thats left is the nipple, which takes longer to heal because its a thicker part of the graft.

you can see the little indentations on my skin from the gauze pressing down under my compression wrap, which i still wear all day every day, and will continue to do for the next few weeks. there is still a light bruise on one side of my chest and a numb patch on the other, plus a bit of swelling around the incisions, especially near the center of my chest. the bruise actually looks more visible in these pics than it does irl.

current physical care:

i’ve started scar care, which is super exciting! i massage my scars twice a day with healing ointment, keeping them nice n hydrated under a thin layer (but still dry enough that they dont get weird from being wrapped up all the time). i also started using silicone scar cream, which is for healing and fading scars.

i massage the incisions for about 15 minutes per day total, for 5-10 minutes at a time. it feels nice, its pleasing to run my fingers over the incisions, it is a bit tender on the place where there is still swelling and a light bruise. i also (very lightly) rub the outside of my nipple grafts when applying the aquaphor, which is to prevent the buildup of excess scar tissue that would raise my areolas up.

i feel much more confident about my healing after having the tape taken off my incisions and the scab tissue wiped off my nipple grafts. i spent the entire past 2 weeks worrying about my nipples falling off, and now i know that won’t happen lmao. im very excited about scar care, being able to massage the incisions and confidently touch my nipples is great. i’m looking forward to my nipples scab tissue flaking off, and for the dissolvable sutures under my incisions to dissolve completely, because i can feel them under my scars which is weird!

concerns going forward:

-spitting sutures, which is when a dissolvable suture gets agitated or rejected by your body and has to be removed, but it’s an easy fix if it does happen, i just have to go into my surgeons office and have them take it out.

-scar care! keeping my nipples hydrated, massaging my scars and the rims of my grafts, keeping everything wrapped under my ace bandage compression with gauze pads over the nipples.

-limited mobility and not carrying stuff- now that i’m pretty healed its hard to make myself not do normal things like reach my arms out, stretch, and lift things up, but i really shouldnt do it even if it doesn’t hurt.

-compression, i still wear my ace bandage wrap and will for at least 2 more weeks, which sucks, i can’t wait to be done with it! but im also glad it’s there because it makes my chest feel protected, i’m still very very cautious and weird about my giant wounds and still-healing nipples.

mood:

overall, i’m very happy with how it looks and how it’s healing. im very relieved to be past these first few weeks when everything is at its most difficult. i’ve been really really stressed out about it this whole time, worrying about my nipple grafts failing or not healing right, having full on anxiety attacks when i accidentally stretch my arms out too far or put too much weight on them, and being terribly afraid that my chest won’t look good aesthetically.

i’ve also been depressed lately, idk if it’s post-surgery depression or my normal depression or my seasonal depression. i was in very good spirits the first week, but i’ve been having low moods and low energy more recently :( i think once i’m able to drive and exercise again i’ll be much happier, but for now being trapped inside all day in my room has been rough.

recovery has been physically grueling and mentally very weird, because i literally did not believe it would actually happen until it had actually happened (seriously i was at the hospital getting prepped to be taken into the OR and i still didn’t think it would happen), and i didn’t believe it would be okay until my 2nd post op on monday when i saw how healed my grafts and incisions were. so really, i’m just now getting to experience the relief that i finally got surgery!!!! the more healed i get the more i enjoy it, which i’m sure will continue for the next months and probably years.

[woowoolvr]

This is for @mysme-rbb ‘s Reverse Big Bang! I don’t really know what to put here other than that I had a bunch of fun drawing Jumin and the kittens! My partner wanted me to post both her written and my drawn part, so I hope it’s ok! @amysteriousmessenger ‘s writing is so perfect and I’m so glad I got paired with her! 💞💞 Be sure to visit her blog as well! ^^

——————————

Jumin stood with Elizabeth the 3rd in his arms, pressed against his chest soundly asleep. She was oblivious to the dark, stormy weather of that night. He wasn’t quite sure what spurred the thought on, but he thought of Rika and how she had vanished from this world, and as he watched his small cat wriggle in his arms, he realised that she, too, would one day leave him. Jumin had thought that he would be fine on his own, he had been before he had Elizabeth the 3rd, so surely, he would be fine after her. Surely.

He pondered his life without Elizabeth the 3rd, the loss of her. How he would have no one to greet in the morning, no one to talk to in his penthouse, no one to greet when he came home. The emptiness of it. The loneliness. Was he lonely? Jumin had never really considered himself as lonely, but he knew how alone he would feel if he no longer had Elisabeth the 3rd.

He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to seek out a ‘partner’ for Elizabeth the 3rd, but it had been a rigorous process. He had spent several weeks researching and interviewing different candidates but struggled to find a male cat that would be good enough for her. He had even had Jaehee working overtime to help him accomplish the task. When he had eventually settled on a father, he had also been a purebred white Persian male with a calm, sweet temperament by the name of Biscuit. Jumin wasn’t entirely sure what he thought of the name, since it seemed rather inelegant for a cat so handsome, but Saeyoung had seemed to enjoy the comedy of it when Jumin spoke of his intentions in the chat. Of course, Saeyoung had also begged Jumin to let him adopt one of Elizabeth the 3rd’s kittens and had been met with a resounding ‘Absolutely not.’ He could never subject a poor kitten to such torture, especially one of Elizabeth the 3rd’s beautiful, perfect children.

Jumin sighed, as a small paw batted at his cheek. It took him a short few moments to figure out why he wasn’t in his bed before the soft cries met his hears once again and he was suddenly wide awake. Elizabeth the 3rd was in labour, she had curled up on the bed next to him and cried in complaints at him. He had employed an entire team of veterinary staff to ensure that her entire pregnancy had gone well, because he wouldn’t put her at any more risk than what was necessary, but she had started delivering almost a week before she was expected to and Jumin had been forced to clear out his entire schedule in order to be with her. He also called the slightly disgruntled medical team out of their homes to be at his penthouse within the hour.

It had been quite a lengthy ordeal, spanning the entire night and consisted of Jumin rarely letting Elizabeth leave his sight while the medical team monitored her vitals. While Zen had claimed it was rather dramatic of him to hire people to monitor her birth when she was ‘just a cat’, Jumin had no real idea of how to help her. He, himself, had no prior experience with cats before he had been gifted Elizabeth, and he had no intentions of replacing the role of a trained professional when it came to helping her.

But by morning, Elizabeth the 3rd had delivered five very small, white kittens. She was well and was already being a very good mother to her new-borns, as Jumin knew she would be, since she was so naturally gifted at everything she set her heart out to do. They were feeding well and he had already chosen their names as Athena, Victoria, Icarus, Edward and, finally, Elizabeth the 4th. They were perfect images of their mother and, for a while, filled that void that had been unknowingly forming in Jumin’s chest.

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

Jumin sighed, closing his front door. It had been an unusually long day. He took his suit jacket off and placed it onto his couch, announcing to Elizabeth the 3rd that he was home. He was met with a singular long meow from her, and several smaller squeaks from her kittens. The kittens had their own room during the day, even though it pained Jumin to keep them behind a closed door while he was out, he didn’t want to risk any of them hurting themselves and him not being able to help them. He always looked forward to seeing them when he got home so late. This day was no different, and he was eager to go back to see them all, eager to have someone excited to see him when he got home.

He prepared their meals, set each place on a diamond-encrusted platter and opened the door to their dayroom. He greeted Elizabeth the 3rd, who was immediately curled into his arms purring while the small white blurs jumped playfully at his suit trousers. He softly petted each of them as they ate before carrying Elizabeth the 3rd over to watch the sun go down over the city with him. Jumin wanted to be closer to the kittens but didn’t want to risk endangering any of them by attempting to carry them all, so instead he sat on the floor next to the large window with them. He hoped that they inherited their mother’s taste for fine views, but they seemed more concerned with playing around in his lap. Well, he was sure that fine taste would come with time.

Jumin sat in silence for a while, wondering why his apartment seemed so quiet despite there being so many living things in it. Living things that could make noise, and play, and talk, and- Oh. They couldn’t talk. He couldn’t have a two-sided conversation with them. He couldn’t ask them about their day or have them ask about his. Is that what he was missing? Conversation? He thought for a moment that perhaps he should call V to come over and share a bottle of wine with him like they used to, but he remembered that V was often away on business too and wouldn’t be able to come over at such short notice. Who else did he have to talk to? His father? He’d rather not deal with his father’s new love interest. Assistant Kang? He already saw enough of her at work. Zen? He scoffed at the thought alone. Absolutely not. So, who?

And it occurred to Jumin, in that second, that he didn’t really have anyone to talk to. While he loved Elizabeth the 3rd and her children, they were not what he was lacking in his life. He needed someone that he could talk to on a mutual level. He wanted to hear about their thoughts and interests, what they thought about the wine over dinner and to help him pick out his tie in the morning. Jumin didn’t have anyone like that, and he realised that he had been attempting to fill the hole in his chest through the wrong course of action. He wouldn’t go as far as to say he was lonely, but the truth of the matter was that Jumin was alone. He was alone at work, and he was alone at home.

[little-writings]

can i request a fanfic where mc is a veterinarian with her own clinic and the reason she meets jumin is because of elizabeth needing a checkup!

Oh my goodness absolutely! This was actually so fun to write! 

Anyhow, I hope you have an amazing day and enjoy!

———————————————————————————————————–

“How long has it been since Elizabeth 3rd has been to the vet?” V asked, grinning fondly as the snowy-white cat pressed against his legs, a purr beginning to rumble in her throat.  

“She doesn’t need to see a vet. She’s in perfect health.” Jumin remarked, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves absentmindedly. “I have a chef prepare her a perfectly figured diet, one of the most  accalimed groomers brush her coat once a week, and-”  

“They’re supposed to get examined yearly.”  

“Who are?”  

V scoffed. “Cats, dogs, and any other animal you could call a pet.”  

“I’ll see about having a house veterinarian come by.”  

“Well, I’ve actually been hearing quite a bit about a certain veterinarian. I think you’d like them.”  

“Are they on call?”  

“No, they have a well-established practice downtown.”  

“Then I’m not interested.” Jumin stated matter-of-factly. “Taking Elizabeth 3rd outside presents too many risks. She could get hurt, lost or both – or even worse. I would never forgive myself if that were to happen.”  

V’s brows furrowed behind his tinted frames. “They’re apparently one of the best in the country. I hear there’s not a pet they don’t get along with.”  

“I would hope so, being a professional. That doesn’t change the fact that it’s an on-site practice. Any potential danger to Elizabeth 3rd isn’t worth it.”  

“Do you really think I’d recommend something that could hurt Elizabeth 3rd?”  

Jumin jerked his head to V and found himself stumbling over his words, cornered by his own stubborn mind. “What? No, I ah – no of course not.”  

The ends of V’s lips curled up and he knelt down to scratch Elizabeth behind the ears, her quiet purring volume erupting to that of a lawnmower.  

“Then give them a try.”  

Jumin wrinkled his nose. “Why are you so adamant?”  

“Because,” V simpered. “I think you’d like them.”  

Jumin didn’t have to ask the next question for V to know what he was wondering.  

“They’re professional and very devoted to their work,” He rose to his feet and rummaged through his jacket, snagging a crisp, clean card from his pocket. He gave it to Jumin who eyed it curiously.  

“In fact, they remind me of you.”  

Jumin paused. Pawprints bordered the card alongside hearts and a phone number he supposed he had no choice but to call at this point. He hardly saw V enough these days, the last thing he wanted to do was disappoint him.  

“I’ll… I’ll think about it.”  

And so, later that evening, he found himself calling.  

“Loving Paws Animal Hospital, how can I help you?” The voice on the other line was sickeningly sweet and welcoming, as though dipped in honey and soaked in sugar.  

Jumin paused and bit the inside of his cheek, swallowing his pride. ”Yes, I’d like to speak to your lead veterinarian?”  

“MC? They’re currently with a client at the moment, but I’d be more than happy to transfer you to their voicemail. Have we seen the pet before?”  

“No. No one has.”  

The secretary must’ve been left at a loss at the stern tone and proclamation, but she did her best regardless against the statue that was Jumin Han.

“So, it’s a new pet?”  

“No.”

“Then… you’re a new client?”  

“Yes. Potentially.”  

Jumin heard an attempt at a stifled snicker and the hospital gained a mental strike in his mind.  

“Okay well, I’ll just go ahead and transfer you to MC’s voicemail. You have a wonderful day, sir!”

That sugary sweetness returned once more, perhaps even more high-pitched than it had been. There was a pause on the other line before your voicemail began. Your voice, in comparison, was light, airy. Jumin could only think of a pleasant song when listening to it – something he found himself falling into.

“Hi this is MC, I can’t get to the phone right now but if you’ll leave a message I’ll do my best to get back to you as soon as I can!”

Despite all the preparedness Jumin thought he might’ve had, he still managed to stumble the second that alerting sound went off.

“I-I ah yes – my name is Jumin Han, and I was considering setting up an appointment for my cat, Elizbeth 3rd. It’s just for an annual exam, though I don’t even think she really needs it she’s in pristine-”

Jumin realized he was rambling and cleared his throat sheepishly.

“Anyways, I was hoping I could ask you some questions before making a final decision. If you would call me back, it’d be appreciated. Thank you.”

Jumin let out a deep sigh and relented to the horrible process of waiting.

You returned the phone call in the evening when the warm oranges, purples, and slightest hues of a deep, murky blue were settling in and spreading overhead. Jumin answered in an instant.

“Hi! Is this Mr. Han?” Your voice was even softer beyond a recorded message. You sounded sweet, but just the tiniest bit tired.

“Yes. MC, isn’t it? I’ve heard many things about you.”

You chuckled. “Good things I hope.”

A smile tugged at Jumin’s face. “Good things only. It has set my expectations high.”

“Well, I’d be delighted to meet those expectations, Mr. Han. Now, what can I do for your Elizabeth 3rd?”

“Technically speaking, there is nothing that’s necessary. Elizabeth 3rd is perfectly taken care of. I simply can’t imagine any problems arising for such a creature.”

“And what kind of perfect creature is she?”

“She is a Persian.”

You thought for a moment, and Jumin could hear a pen tapping against a desk. “Persian cats can have some complications, even if they’re in otherwise perfect living conditions. Unfortunately, it just comes with the breed.”

A sudden twisting of knots appeared in Jumin’s stomach. He tensed. “Such as…?”

“Well, you know their cute little smushed faces? Like pugs their nasal passages are shorter and more susceptible to their environments.”

Jumin opened his mouth to speak, but you continued on like a textbook’s worth of knowledge had just been released.

“And Persians specifically are prone to polycystic kidney disease, and you have to watch out for that because if ignored when they reach eight or nine years old they could suddenly collapse and die-”

You stopped yourself. You might’ve not needed to jump to that immediate conclusion.

“But I uh – it is also perfectly possible that Elizabeth 3rd is in a completely healthy state!”

Jumin was now staring wide-eyed at Elizabeth 3rd who sat uncaringly in the center of the living room. She was grooming herself and only her tail was lightly swaying from side to side across the carpet. She appeared almost serene.

‘They could suddenly collapse and die.”

A pit crumpled in Jumin’s insides.

“When’s the soonest I can come in?”

You laughed nervously. There was a clicking of a computer mouse and a brief moment of silence where you glanced through the schedule. “I can squeeze you in tomorrow afternoon?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Mr. Han… are you okay?”

Jumin looked once more at Elizabeth 3rd who now raised her head to meet him. She closed and opened her eyes slowly, mewing.

“I will be when I know Elizabeth 3rd is okay.”

You sighed. “It sounds like Elizabeth 3rd has a very devoted pet parent. She is lucky to have you Mr. Han.”

“I am lucky to have her.”

The call ended soon after with you meekly attempting to assuage his fears, and Jumin beginning to pace about Elizabeth like any cause for concern he’d already miss would simply leap out for a dramatic entrance.

Jumin could now hardly wait for the appointment he considered pointless just hours ago.

V may or may not have received multiple texts of concerns throughout the night. The internet truly did not help the situation.

‘I read online that Persians with blue eyes can have something called Congenital ankyloblepharon. While the website says it’s not deadly, another said it’s linked to a fatal disease.’

‘Because of Elizabeth’s small nasal passage, a website is now telling me Elizabeth will more than likely develop a heart condition. Elizabeth 3rd does not deserve this.’

V had begged him to just wait until tomorrow and Jumin reluctantly agreed.

When the appointment finally arrived, Jumin had made sure Elizabeth would only travel in the best his wealth could provide. However, diamond-encrusted cat carriers apparently took a great deal of time to create, so a polyester and mesh carrier would have to do – lined with sherpa, of course, and filled with her favorite toys.

While Jumin had been anxious and fidgety the entire drive, Elizabeth 3rd was curious, excited even. When Elizabeth was pawing at the mesh lining to peek closer at the car window Jumin was tugging at his sleeves and holding his breath. Even Driver Kim took notice, though his support did little to ease his worries.

He only felt a little ease when he finally arrived at the clinic. The secretary had been stunned at the famous heir’s arrival, but quickly recognized his voice. Her surprise then shifted to amusement, a sly smile stretched across her face.

“Hello Mr. Han! How’re you doing today?”

Jumin furrowed his brow, glancing away. “I am… anticipating my meeting with MC.”

“Stressed for the little lady?” The secretary pointed with her pen to Elizabeth 3rd, now rolled over on her back and playing with one of her toys. This was easily one of her favorite days already.

“Very much so.” Jumin answered.

“We’ll be sure to get you in quick then.”

Jumin nodded hurriedly, and sat down. When his name was called he nearly tripped from how quickly he shot up. It was a… difficult day for maintaining composure.

He ran his fingers through his hair, took a deep breath, and then proceeded on through the hall where you waited in the consulting room.

He hadn’t quite known what he’d expected when he saw you, but he still found himself without words, if only for a second. Your face was kind, far more than the ones he’d known throughout his life with eyes that offered a sense of comfort to soften the stress so clearly brimming at the surface.

“Hi Mr. Han.” You set a ginger hand on Jumin’s shoulder, offering a warm smile. “I heard you’re feeling a little concerned for Elizabeth 3rd?”

“That is an understatement.”

You folded your lips in thought, drawing your hand away only to lightly clap, determined. “Well I’ve never met an animal I can’t help, and I don’t intend to stop now.”

A bit of the weight dropped from Jumin’s chest. You tapped against the examination table – a heavy counter in the center of the room with a smooth, thick surface.

The room itself was decorated with pictures of animals surrounded by varying degrees of puns. The one the most caught Jumin’s eye was a photo of a cat, tail tucked just over its paws and a sweet expression beneath the words, ‘you’re purrfect.’

He wondered if you chose that one personally. He hoped so.

Jumin unzipped the carrier atop the counter for Elizabeth 3rd to poke out. She only hesitated for a moment before stepping out to greet your hand, fingers outstretched for her to curiously sniff. You beamed at the very sight of her, leaning down as she dipped her head against your hand, eager to be pet.

“Hello, Ms. Elizabeth! Aren’t you beautiful?” You scratched her cheek and her purring began, akin to a lawnmower. “She’s so sweet!”

Jumin watched as you examined her, flashing a light in her eyes and ears, squeezing her tummy for any masses, and flexing her legs for achy joints. Her temperature was normal, not even a rapid heart rate.

“Now I don’t want to stress her out on her first visit but I recommend we do an ultrasound,” You had remarked, rubbing her belly in one of the rare opportunities that a cat not only tolerated such an action but enjoyed it. Elizabeth 3rd was a rare creature indeed. “It’s just to make sure she doesn’t have anything bad developing in her kidneys.” 

“Do you expect there to be anything?” 

Elizabeth pawed playfully at your fingers, pulling them close to rub her cheeks against them when you relented. You had to draw your gaze back to Jumin to keep yourself from becoming distracted. It was rare to see Elizabeth 3rd warming up to someone so quickly. “Do I?” 

You paused, and then laughed. “Of course you’re asking me, I’m sorry! I don’t know what got into me – she’s just such a cutie! But ah – no I don’t. Elizabeth 3rd is as close to perfect as it gets. You weren’t kidding when you said how well she’s taken care of.” 

“She means the world to me.” Jumin hummed, Elizabeth tipping her head to see him and meowing. She almost appeared to smile when he scratched just beneath her chin. 

“May I ask how you found her?” 

Jumin hesitated, remembering the golden hair and slender hands that once held Elizabeth. It brought a pang. 

“She was a gift from someone dear.” 

You could see Jumin’s sadness so easily. You could only make your best effort to soften the hurt. “They must’ve known you two would be perfect for each other.” 

Jumin lifted his head to look up at you, and you smiled. It was gentle, and at that moment, brighter than the very sun. You wore your heart on your sleeve, and it was beautiful. He grinned, if only gently. “Thank you.” 

“Just being honest.” 

The ultrasound was an experience. Jumin thought you had to be lying or attempting a cruel joke when you brought the clippers. There was simply no way you truly could want to ruin Elizabeth’s coat! 

You had promised only the ‘teeny-tiniest’ area would be shaved, but you also promised it’d be cute. Jumin couldn’t completely disagree. 

You had him hold her still during the ordeal, his hands folded over her front legs and keeping her close as you carefully ran the clippers over her stomach. Elizabeth simply rubbed her head against Jumin’s suit. 

“See! Look at that little pink tummy!” You pointed to the now thin white hairs where just between the faintest hints of skin could be spotted. You encouraged Jumin to run his hand over and it was… oddly soft if admittedly strange. 

“There’s no way you don’t think that’s adorable.” You exclaimed. 

“It’s not not adorable. 

That made you laugh. 

The procedure itself was quick and easy. The probe found no problems within Elizabeth’s kidneys and the only issue that arose was Elizabeth 3rd squeaking in surprise at the cold gel spread over her stomach. 

“I’m sorry sweetie, I’ll get this chilly stuff off you quick, okay?” 

You made plenty of little comments like those to Elizabeth 3rd. While many others would hardly regard something as minuscule you took every effort to make Elizabeth 3rd comfortable. Jumin noticed each and every time. You were doting. 

Just as you said, you wiped her clean, only peppering her in pets all over her belly and sides as she could rollover. 

“She is the picture of health, Mr. Han. The only thing I’d recommend is we make these ultrasounds yearly to keep an eye on her – and so I can see her again.” 

Jumin chuckled. “I take it she’s swept you off your feet?” 

“Like she’s my prince charming.” You snickered. “I’m a sucker for pretty kitties.” 

“I’m glad someone else can appreciate Elizabeth 3rd for her perfection.” 

You nodded. “I also appreciate the owner that’s given her the chance to flourish so much.” 

There was a different type of pang in his chest and the tiniest bit of red flickered upon Jumin’s cheeks. Either you didn’t notice, or you didn’t say anything. 

But you smiled. 

“I ah – I might need to bring her in again sooner than her next yearly. I’ve been researching and read of other conditions in her breed that I’d like to look into.” 

You caught on quick. “Right, and we wouldn’t want to overwhelm Elizabeth 3rd with so much on her first visit! It might be best to stretch these concerns over multiple appointments just so we can do the best job possible for her.” 

“And you can teach me what to look out for and how to find them.” Jumin settled Elizabeth 3rd back in her carrier, pawing at you through the mesh, pink pads just barely peeking through. 

“Of course! And you are more than welcome to call! In fact…” 

You tore off a piece of paper from your notes, scribbling quickly before giving it to him. “Here is my personal phone number, for any questions you may have.” 

Jumin smirked and tucked it away in his pocket. “I expect I could find quite a few until our next appointment.” 

You clicked your pen, simpering. “I’ll be patiently waiting, Mr. Han.” 

“Jumin is fine.” He stretched out his hand, palm open. “In fact, allow me to properly introduce myself – we weren’t given the proper chance. I’m Jumin Han. It is a pleasure to meet you.” 

Warmth reached your cheeks, but you didn’t object, returning the gesture with a firm grip. “MC. The pleasure is all mine. I really do look forward to seeing you again, Jumin.” 

It was rare Jumin could say the same, but for once he did, he truly, truly did. 

“As do I.” 

[eirenical]

I am dying to know about all of your guardian wips 👀👀👀

[In response to this post.]

(And anyone else who would like to ask about a WiP, please do! ^_^)

I AM SO GLAD SOMEONE ASKED ME ABOUT THESE.  ^__________^

OK, getting these out of the way first, because they are no longer WiPs...

cheng jie KNOWS: This is the fic that became This is Not a Shovel Talk.  ^_^  This is the fic set right after Zhao Yunlan loses his sight and Shen Wei brings him to Dr. Cheng.  Set in a much broader universe (the universe tag is “college shen wei fic”) where Dr. Cheng and Shen Wei were good friends in college, and she had taken bb!Shen Wei, fresh-faced from Dixing (and millenia underground OTZ) under her wing and he imprinted on her like a baby duckling.  ^_^

FEET: I’m sure anyone who’s been following me for a hot second recognizes what this must be.  ;D  It’s the fic that became The Inherent Intimacy of Walking Barefoot Around Someone Else's Home... which is NOT a foot fetish fic, no matter how much Zhao Yunlan thought it might be.  XD  It’s about the INTIMACY.  The YEARNING.  FINDING HOME IN EACH OTHER.  It’s about the DOMESTICITY OF IT ALL, OK?  ...also a ridiculously hot picture of a barefoot Zhu Yilong looking like an absolute thirst trap, BUT WHO’S COUNTING.  XD  (...you’re welcome.  ^_^)  All fic notes and posts can be found under the tag “the foot fic,” because I’m just original that way.  ;D

And now on to the actual WiPs! ^_^

...but behind a cut because this is getting long.

buried and stabbed bookjoyworm: OK, so this one actually... may be self-explanatory.  XD  I reblogged this writing meme yesterday, and bookjoyworm was RIGHT THERE with this suggestion: “trapped under something and stabbed/impaled for weilan.”  (I’m still taking prompts for this writing meme, BTW, if anyone is interested.  ^_^)  And my mind IMMEDIATELY latched on to the idea of some kind of a car accident or cave in where Shen Wei got everyone else out, but was then crushed under the debris/trapped in the crushed car himself.  And he’s half out of it because a piece of debris is literally pierced through his body and he’s slowly suffocating, and he’s the other half out of it because he’s flashing back to the millenia he spent trapped and buried alive and his brain just kind of shut down in panic.  Of course, they’re eventually going to get him out and he’s going to be fine, but HE IS NOT HAVING A GOOD TIME, IN THE MEANTIME.  And I know this is weilan, but I’m on a Shen Wei and Da Qing kick atm, so there is also going to be a little bit of “even as rotund as he is, Da Qing can squeeze through the debris and reach Shen Wei and helps act as a lifeline when Zhao Yunlan has to stop talking because he’s going hoarse.”  ^_^

Shen Wei college fic 01: ...exactly what it says on the box?  ;D  This is the first snippet of what will eventually become the larger universe from “This is Not a Shovel Talk.”  Takes place the first day of orientation with Cheng Xingyan taking a bb!faced Shen Wei under her wing. First bit is actually posted here, if you’d like to read it.  ^_^  Labeled “01″ because I see this being a series of shorter fic, much like the “Care and Training of a Former Megalomaniac” series.  ^_^

Mirror Mirror (x this short film that Z1L did with Li Bingbing: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=48K8Q7JyrNU): Oh, I am EXCITED ABOUT THIS ONE.  I am... currently in the process of taking a lot of it apart and rewriting it, but I’m still very excited.  ^_^  First of all, I recommend watching the YouTube link.  It’s a short film (~6 minutes); it’s set in the year 2084 on the Moon.  But here is the gist of it: a woman (LBB) has come to see an art installation of multiple mirrors.  The exhibit is about to close, but the curator (Z1L) keeps it open for her, conversing with her as she looks at the mirrors, but eventually becoming too overcome with emotion to continue talking.  She eventually follows the exhibit around to the stairs that lead up to the office and confronts the curator.  It turns out they have a history.  By the end, you get the definite feeling that there is a reconciliation (...and maybe more?) in their future.

So of course, I IMMEDIATELY went... omg... what a GREAT concept for a Guardian reincarnation story.  *_*  So, the basic premise is that drama canon pretty much went as drama canon goes.  Some 30-40 years later, Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan are reincarnated.  Shen Wei doesn’t remember anything at first, but he’s haunted by his image in the mirror, convinced that the boy he sees in his reflection isn’t him, but is instead someone else.  (Spoiler: Because it is.  Two guess as to who and the first one doesn’t count. ;D)

He has... a rough go of it.  He starts pursuing art as a way to try to purge the half-memories and images that haunt him, eventually fleeing for the isolation of this installation on the moon, because he can’t handle the oppressive concern of everyone around him for his sanity.

Zhao Yunlan, OTOH, was orphaned as a child, but found and adopted very quickly by Da Qing and Zhang Shi.  I don’t think he remembers his former life, at all, but most of the major players are there; it’s only been 30-40 years and even the humans could still be alive by then.  He’s been following Shen Wei’s art for a while, fascinated by the young brilliant recluse, some nagging sensation of familiarity telling him that this person is special, and more importantly, special to HIM.  He eventually saves up the money to go to the Moon and see the mirror installation.  (By this point, Shen Wei has his memory back and he is absolutely floored that Zhao Yunlan just... waltzed into his exhibit like that, and he doesn’t even know how to begin to process it.)  The rest of the fic follows the short film canon, only this time it’s Zhao Yunlan seeing Shen Wei and just... KNOWING.  And then they live happily ever after.  ^_^

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 9: Intruloceit (Pt 1)

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 9: When you write something on your own skin, it appears on your soulmate’s skin as well.

Content warnings: implied abuse (nothing graphic), self deprecation, some internalized homophobia concerning polyamory, angst. 

(Happy ending in next part)

Word count: 1.7k

Janus didn’t sleep the night before his eighteenth birthday. Instead, he sat curled up on his bed, wrapped in his blanket, watching the minutes pass in the dim light of his alarm clock. His heart pounded as it drew closer to midnight, feeling like the numbers on the display were a countdown to his death.

He didn’t have friends, and that wasn’t a topic he would ever admit to being sensitive about. Most people would spend the eve of their eighteenth birthday surrounded by their loved ones, count down the seconds until they reached the strike of midnight, and then huddle around the birthday person as they wrote a message to their soulmate for the first time. A little greeting, an introduction, something to begin the process of meeting the love of their life. In a decent amount of cases, probably half, Janus would speculate, they wouldn’t get a response until their soulmate also turned eighteen, but the first note was still a special moment; something to celebrate. He’d never been a popular person though, by any standards.  Even back in elementary school, his general dark demeanor and habitual lying kept people away from him. Sure, it would be more fun to play at recess with the other kids instead of laying in the sun and watching the clouds float by, but his defense mechanisms were not something he was going to let go of any time soon.

When his bedside display finally read 12:00, he expected to feel something. A shiver up his spine, a tingling under his skin, anything. But nothing happened, and he couldn’t tell if he was more grateful or upset. He stared down at his skin, pen held in his shaking hands, debating if he should do it. The minutes ticked by, suddenly a lot slower than when he’d been fighting for breath in anticipation and fear, and the pen continued to shake.

Downstairs, the front door slammed shut, causing Janus to flinch so hard the pen clattered to the floor. His dad wasn’t supposed to be home for a couple more days, and he could hear his mom voicing similar confusion as she made her way downstairs to greet him.

“Darrel? Did the trip end early?” He could hear the hesitation and uncertainty in her voice even from behind his closed door. His father had left with the excuse of a work trip. They both knew that wasn’t true, and both had an unspoken agreement to not say a word about it.

“What are you doing awake?” The man’s voice was gruff, sleep starved, annoyed. He clearly hadn’t intended to run into his wife, the soulmate he had stopped loving years ago.

“The headlights shone through the window, they woke me up.”

“Well, go back to bed. I don’t want to be grilled by you right now.”

“Do you want some dinner? I think there’s some leftovers in the fridge-”

“I said, go back to bed!”

“Darrel, please! You’re going to wake Janus!”

Janus shut his eyes and ears as the yelling started, abandoning the pen and what little excitement he’d had previously. Like every night, his sleep was as restless and chaotic as the day time, haunted with flashbacks and nightmares that he had no way to escape. Words hit with as much impact as fists, reminding him of how he was meant to be alone. A soulmate could never love a royal fuck up like him. His dad’s words echoed and distorted as the blows landed, shouts of unlovable and worthless setting in his mind as tombstones. Images of his parent’s failed bond rifled through his mind’s eye at record pace. Whether they were a one in a million flaw or just a cruel reminder that soulmates are never as perfect as displayed, he’d never know. All he knew is that he’d rather be alone for the rest of his life than be submitted to the fate that had befallen them, abuse and hatred but unable to leave, not with the expectations and stereotypes they lived under. ‘Soulmates were perfect, never failing, an unshatterable bond.’ Bullshit. He knew he was also subjecting his soulmate to a life alone, but his fear easily outweighed his desire to be loved, or his sense of compassion. 

He woke up the next morning with a new heaviness in his heart, glancing at the time habitually. It was ten minutes before his alarm, but the thought of going back to sleep was too daunting a quest, so he rolled off his bed and padded to the bathroom to get ready for school. It was his senior year, and no matter how much he would rather stay at home and mope in his room, zoning out as he tended to do, he needed his grades to stay decent. It was the only way he was getting out of here. Half asleep, he threw on his yellow comfort hoodie, a stark contrast to his mood. It had been a present from his mom a few years ago, given with the uncomfortable smile between two people who lived together but rarely spoke. 

He clambered down the stairs two at a time, freezing on the last step as his eye locked on the person in the kitchen. His mom sat at the table, nursing a cup of coffee silently, barely acknowledging he had entered the room. Without so much as a word, he scooted by her, eyeing the bruise forming on her left cheek and slunk out the door. They didn’t talk much anymore, why would today being his birthday change that?

The day was nothing out of the ordinary, and Janus didn’t know why that made a certain hole open up in his chest. Boring classes followed by lonely breaks, a quiet lunch hour in an abandoned classroom and an uneventful walk to the park after school. He preferred doing his homework anywhere that wasn’t home, especially now that his dad was back in town. He needed to get these done, and who knew what would pull him away from his work there. Besides, the grass was soft and the sun wasn’t too overbearingly hot, and he desperately needed a tan. The darker his skin, the more unnoticeable was the huge birthmark that covered the left side of his face, a little something that just made him that much more avoided by his peers.

His pen had barely scratched the paper when a tickle over his right arm made him gasp, like a feather ghosting over the skin. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what it was, and after a moment of adrenaline and panic, it occurred to him that no amount of putting it off would prevent the inevitable. He’d have to acknowledge his soulmate’s existence eventually. With a deep breath, he tugged the sleeve of his hoodie up, eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

From wrist to elbow on his forearm, a deep blue ink had scribbled down bullet points that he must have not noticed throughout the entire day, since there were too many for them to have happened in the last few minutes. He started at the top, eyes drifting hungrily over the writing until he reached the last note, still being finished.

Chemistry test next Friday, study cephalopods

English paper on William Shakespeare, ask Roman for advice

Talk to Patton about moving movie night to next weekend

What far away is Andromeda from earth?

Fix V’s pin 

Yell at V to stop breaking their pins

Get dad to sign detention slip

Extra credit for calculus due tomorrow

Do you want to get coffee?

Janus froze. That last one… what the hell? Sure, his brain was decently sleep deprived, but he was almost certain he hadn’t written to his soulmate last night. Except, damn, that question certainly didn’t seem to fit in with the rest of his notes; it seemed aimed at someone. Nevermind how they knew he was there, knew he had turned eighteen, they were trying to contact him, and that was more important. He picked up his discarded pen off the grass, twirling it in his fingers. What should he say? Should he even say anything? His original plan to ignore his soulmate was suddenly significantly more difficult, now that they were making the first move. They were a real person, not just a stranger, no longer a figment of his imagination twisted into something evil. 

But before he could touch the tip to his arm to respond, to maybe introduce himself or ask where they were in the world (why were they offering coffee if they’d never even established where they lived, he wondered distantly), a barrage of green script exploded under his poised pen.

YES PLEASE! I was awake all night. I just saw your notes, you want help with the cephalopods? I can quiz you, I know everything about them. And I guarantee I know just as much about ya boi Billy Shakes as Roman, and I know the FUN stuff too! Not the prissy romancey stuff. Did V tell you their pin broke because they tried to stab me with it and hit my pocket knife? Because they did. What did you get detention for this time?

Even with the small writing, Janus had to rotate his arm to follow the messy scratching as the… new person continued to rant about their day. He sat in shock, not able to process what was happening. This had to be a mistake, right? It was astronomically rare to have more than one soulmate, and there was no way he was one of those people. He had never been special before in his life, in either a good way or a bad, so he in no way was deserving of… this. Maybe this was a mistake after all, just like his parents. Another cosmic fuck up, where he’d have to live out the rest of his life, watching the two people fall more and more in love while he looked on like a creep. Isn’t that what he deserved, though? The two other people obviously knew each other; two soulmates who must have turned eighteen before him and met a while ago, if their casual interaction was anything to go by. And… he couldn’t intrude on that. Even if he did, if he popped up out of nowhere like a bad cold, they wouldn’t want him to join their pre-established relationship already. They probably weren’t even polyamorous, and the whole idea would just make them uncomfortable. 

His mind was too far gone for homework. So with a lump in his throat the size of a meteor and tears stinging the corner of his eyes, he capped the pen, rolled down his sleeve resolutely, and packed up his supplies. Anything his dad would do to him would surely hurt less than this.