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thesamoanqueen · 10 days

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Blackwater XXI

Warnings/AN: I've been very busy and I'm late on a lot of stories here, but I promise to catch up. This chapter was challenging and not only because of the themes that become more and more complicated, but also because I already had an idea but after what happened with Roman's family I chose to cancel everything and start again. I hope it turned out well and thank you again for your support and patience

Paul had always been a member of the family to him. Anyone invited to the table became part of the family, that was what Roman had been taught, and when the table passed to him, he had respected tradition and made Paul the wise man. Years before that moment, his pops had told him how they had met, he had described the wiseman as a bold boy that the wild wolves had adopted during their trips, willing to do anything to make a name for himself. That instinct, his desire to be the best, was what made Paul special and had allowed him to make a career where others had failed. Difficulties, risks, had made him the perfect advisor, but Roman had also learned his lessons as he grew up and was running out of tolerance and time to deal with new issues.

The time for confessions is over. He better speak now.

- “It's been a while since you've been home” - he reflected, putting away the coffee, immediately seeing Paul do the same.

He had waited, he had granted him mercy, but nothing had happened.

- “The kids can take care of themselves, they don't need anyone at this point. I'm more useful here now. It's an honor to serve you and your family, I'm happy to do it” - he recited impeccably, his face smiling and excited at the idea of sharing that moment with him before getting to work as they had been doing for years now.

- “Is it so?” - he asked, looking him over carefully in search of the answer.

It's all thanks to us. We did it all.

- “I made you the wise man, it wasn't due to my family. I chose you to be something more than a lawyer, none of them had ever thought of you like that” - he reminded him, intercepting one of those reactions invisible to human eye that a wolf instead sniffs out as soon as the prey suspect.

For a long time, when Roman wasn't yet the most feared alpha in the country, Paul had worked for others, more or less legally and also given his family a lot of hard work. Business was business. He had the instinct of an opportunistic jackal rather than a wolf, but Roman had never judged him for his attitude, because he had understood his way was the smartest way to get what he deserved without spitting blood. He had succeeded with the wiseman’s help, they respected each other now, but between them there was a hierarchy and a promise of loyalty. Affection would not have saved him after such a disrespect.

- “Im grateful to you my Tribal Chief, but I don’t understand, have I perhaps offended you?” - he asked confused, while Roman took a deep breath, gathering his patience that was running out day after day.

He had no time for chit-chat, there were two days left until the tribal combat and he had to know how things were before risking everything.

- “You’re having contacts with the strays at the border” - he began, pointing to the phone Paul had with him as always.

Delegating had become a necessity when business had expanded and the issues to deal with multiplied to the point of not giving him rest. Controlling everything was an impossible job that would only bring disadvantages in the long run and the wise man had taken his place promptly, he was very good at solving the less important matters before they reached his ear and in the best way. Over the years they had created a perfect harmony, but it was not the time to let things happen and Roman could not allow himself the luxury of believing in anyone's loyalty after what had happened with his own blood and knowing that in his house there were already whispers.

- “We need to check them and I do it for you, my Tribal Chief. They have no chance, but they are teaming up, it’s better to know their moves. I only do my job for your best” - he explained, a hand on his heart and a serious expression.

Across the border they talked a lot about changes now he had lost his grip there, they didn’t hide, they made alliances speaking with their heads high, they made promises and threats, they remembered names both Roman and the wise man had known and respected, while they lit fires from the ashes. To him it was just smoke, arrogant puppy games because for the first time in years he had shown a weakness, but as soon as he had solved his first priority he would get rid of them too.

- “What about Jey? You checking on him and Jimmy too because it’s part of your job? You saw ‘em. You talked to them, I told you not to and you went looking for my cousin” - he replied harshly and this time the wise man faltered.

The rumors even if pushed south were still rumors, but his blood was something tangible. They were in his land, at his door. The wise man knew the twins as much as him, he had seen them grow up together and he had been there when Roman and Jey had first clashed for the title of alpha. He knew what would happen, he knew what to expect. The losers at the border were not up to par, but Jey was another story and the thought he was judging him or worse helping him to have someone more maneuverable at the top, going against their collaboration, supposed friendship, was intolerable.

- “My Tribal Chief no, trust me, Im trying to do what is best for the family” - he tried, but Roman immediately stiffened at the mere thought, putting away his coffee.

- “Im what is best for the family. You are my wise man, you are here for me, not for them, not for the family, me! My name and my role are on the line, there’s nothing to discuss unless you have other plans”

It had happened once, when he was still traveling across the country for family business, months before Y/N, over a year ago. They had made it clear, he had forgiven Paul and since then their bond had become stronger, but it could have happened again. Loyalty is never absolute, Roman had learned the lesson the hard way. If his own family, his friends, had chosen to betray him, why couldn't Paul a second time for his personal vision?

We not dumb. We’re not weak.

- “I’d never dare, you know nothing is more important to me than you! I love you! You are my Tribal Chief!”

- “and still you forgot it to do as you wanted” - he reminded him, taking a step forward, feeling the smell of his panic creeping into his nostrils.

- “What?! No, no, I’d never disrespect you like that, I was just”-

- “I told you, wiseman” - he growled softly and Paul raised his hands, to defend himself or beg him it didn't matter.

- “I-I... I did it for Y/N!” - he admitted at the end, gesturing towards the hallway where the stairs were – “I shouldn't have said it, but... I did it for her”

She wasn’t there to hear it, but she didn’t need to be there to give him one of her warning looks, because Roman was already doing it. He endured their arguments on a daily basis, thankfully they had never gone too far to make him talk and part of the reason it never happened was that the wise man knew to watch his mouth when she was involved. Whatever moment their relationship was going through, whatever was happening, it didn’t matter, Y/N was untouchable.

- “Be careful” – he warned him, his gaze dark and Paul understood, because his demeanor changed and he took a few seconds to choose the right words before speaking.

- “It’s nothing new, she’s always been… against this… she has her strong opinion and a lot already happened, it’s probably the prospect of losing someone she cares about that puts her on the defensive” – he explained giving him a look that made Roman’s mouth twitch.

That conversation was becoming unbearable for him. He was perfectly aware of what Y/N’s opinion was about his family war, he was aware there was more than what she was admitting, he was aware of what traumas the past had left in her mind. He didn’t need to hear the wise man explain to him how things were or play the therapist to justify what was happening when the two of them weren’t even on good terms.

- “Im her family and nothing will happen to me, she won’t lose anyone” – he reminded him, seeing Paul put on another face that pushed his nerves even further.

- “Of course, no… not you at least, no, I’m sure she knows perfectly well that her place is by your side but you know there’s a strong bond with the twins… it’s mutual, at the meeting it was clear that Jey feels the same, you saw it, we were all there and she’s a smart woman, a survivor and maybe” - the sudden growl stopped him from saying anything else, but Roman had heard enough by now.

- “You are crossing the line”

No! She is mine. Our mate. Mine!

The only thing clear at the meeting was that his cousin was an dumbass and had learned nothing in the years spent as his right-hand man. He had crossed the line with that invitation as much as Paul now, it had been a lack of respect he would pay dearly for. Y/N was Roman’s responsibility, no one else’s, it was his role to take care of her and he was crazy to offer her protection, when knew full well Roman would get himself killed before quit. He should have worried about Takecia and their family, because he had a real mate like him, a real bond and he had built his life with her, not with Y/N and it wouldn’t be Y/N who would be left on the street when, despite himself, Roman would punish him in two days. Nothing would ever happen to Y/N again, he had promised her and he was doing everything he could to keep his word. That’s why she would stay by his side, they would finally build their family, there, on his land, in his home, because he was the best choice. Not Jey.

That bond the wise man was talking about? was there because Roman had wanted it. It was him who had pushed them to spend time together months before, he needed to make her feel comfortable then and to have someone to always check on her. There was no bond as deep as theirs, absolutely nothing between her and Jey that could hold a candle to it! Y/N was worried because it was in her nature, she was kind and merciful behind fangs and growls, she was already taking care of the whole family, it was her instinct and Roman had to balance: protecting her even from her most vulnerable side. Whatever it seemed from the outside, it was a lie, there was nothing, absolutely nothing. She was his, she would never turn her back on him like the others to save Jey or Jimmy from their fate.

- “… my Tribal Chief I didn’t mean”-

- “Did she tell you to do it?” – he inquired, looking at him deadly serious – “Don’t make that face now, I asked what you did, we’re talking about you and you tell stories about her!”

It's not true, no.

- “I was just trying to explain”-

- “Answer wiseman. She told you to deal with Jey, take care of him, is that how it would have gone?!” – he repeated impatiently, his voice heavy and Paul visibly jumped, narrowing his eyes in terror as he saw him smash his fist on the table.

- “She implied it during a couple of conversations. She said to find a way before the fight” – he answered with his head down and Roman froze.

Why does he keep lying?! Y/N would never do this.

We are mates, made for each other.

His wolf hated even the hint of doubt. There was no scenario where something so abominable could happen. He trusted her, he trusted only her and for Roman was the same… but something inside him still jammed at the umpteenth confirmation. For an unbearable moment, the ground beneath his feet trembled at the thought it wasn’t just fear that was making Paul talk. Her looks, the way she froze when he was close, the mark rejected after all those months together and the attempts to discuss the fight even after seeing him return home covered in blood.

She was on his side. She had promised to always be.

- “A way for what?” – he repeated, his voice uncertain and far away this time in the sudden silence of the house.

The wise man in front of him opened his eyes hesitantly, raising them to him in fear, his brow furrowed in concern at the sight of the veins stiffening from trying to hold back his claws, the smell of anxiety and expensive aftershave shipped all the way from New York mixing together.

***

Lisa lived in the city, in a lovely apartment that was easy to get to downtown and the beach. Roman had tried to convince her to leave it for something better, Y/N knew the story, but she had always refused and it was clear why. It mirrored her, was in a strange way exactly like her, with flowers in front of the door, a strange Mediterranean mix of lace and old photos everywhere of the entire family, arranged with rigid care like in a museum where you were not allowed to touch anything. It was welcoming though, smelling of tasty food and laundry, Lisa’ smell.

- “Sika would go crazy if he knew you were here with me and not at his place! he always asks about you, to me! How is Y/N? You heard about our daughter? I told him to calm down, it’s ridiculous” – she sighed exasperated, sitting down with her and immediately reaching out to reassure her – “at his age and with what happened to you… I think it’s the girls’ fault, they don’t indulge him like before, I mean they have their families to take care of and with you he’s got these ideas in his head again!”

Sika seemed like such a scary man at first sight, a big man with a serious look, yet both he and Lisa had been kind to her after the first moment. She had no idea how he was with his daughters, she hadn’t seen them all together yet even though it had been a year since she’d been there, but he had been gentle with her. They had talked a lot, he had told her so many stories and she had enjoyed listening to them, he had been kind and happy when she had agreed to spend time with him to go fishing. But that was before he had agreed to the fight between his son and Jey, since then she had not seen or heard from him personally, there was no time to get close or chat, there were other priorities and deep down Y/N thought it was better this way. She didn’t know if she would have reacted with the same enthusiasm at the prospect of spending time with him, she still didn’t understand how a father could accept knowing his son was in danger, even if family traditions were involved.

- “I’ll go visit him too, I made a promise” – she replied, trying to hide the weight now permanently stuck in her chest, but Lisa gave her a sympathetic look anyway.

- “There’s no rush, honey, don’t worry. We all know that now is not the time”

She knows.

Y/N had no idea if it was some sort of sixth sense as a mother, hers had never been empathetic, but Y/N hoped was the case. It was the reason why she had decided to go visit her that day, putting aside the idea of keeping everything inside as she had always been used to do and leaving Roman’ side.

She had woken up in an empty bed, him already downstairs taking care of the last things before the war and she had felt alone in that big house. Hormones were torturing her despite the suppressants she was taking every day at that point, anxiety had transformed her into a block of ice and she had felt the need for someone, someone who understood or at least listened to her, because her and Roman seemed to be tuned into two channels that broadcast in two different languages on the same frequency creating only chaos. She would have gone to Naomi, she would have wanted to so much, because Naomi would have understood just by looking at her, but she couldn't anymore. They were no more sisters, not even family.

- “I wish it was instead”- she admitted, seeing Lisa nod.

- “I’ve been in your shoes, I still am in a way… It’s such a terrible feeling in your guts”

She had been a wife, but she was still a mom, she always would be and as far as Y/N knew, Lisa was also close to the twins, she had raised them too. Y/N hadn’t really thought about it, she wasn’t used to seeing things from other people’s point of view, but Lisa was like a more adult version of her: she didn’t belong there either, she had joined the family, she had had her difficulties, they were a bit alike.

- “How did you do it?” – she asked curiously and Lisa looked at her confused – “I mean, accept it. All”

Lisa thought about it for a moment and Y/N saw her turn to look at a couple of the photos around the house, her gaze lost in her own memories, before shaking her head bitterly.

- “I didn’t. I faced it as long as I could, for my kids, then I took a step back” – she confessed and Y/N felt the weight of that admission somehow add to her despair, causing a shiver that made her clench her hands.

Her and Roman were mates, they were meant to be together, they had no way out or plan B and Y/N knew that Lisa and Sika's divorce had been caused by different issues than what they were facing, but the thought they hadn't made it, even if they still got along and loved each other, hit her full on without warning.

Some things weren't meant to last.

- “It will be different for you two, Roman won't allow it” – Lisa added immediately, stopping her thoughts this time and Y/N immediately forced herself to smile with the same hope.

He doesn't quit. Never. He promised.

Yes, Roman wouldn't allow it, even if things were difficult now, they would change. It wouldn't be like that forever, he was a man of his word. They could do it, they just had to hold on a little longer and then, when everything calmed down, they could look back together and say they were over it.

- “A few more days” - she reminded, making Lisa nod as well.

- “One step at a time”

The sound of the wind against the windows distracted her, something in the weather seemed to have changed in the last few days. She had never spent so much time in the same place to notice such things and even then Y/N suspected she didn’t have a correct perception. Her body was constantly throwing tantrums, sometimes her skin burned at the most unthinkable moments and other times the shivers shook her. Her mood changed as quickly as the clouds that followed one another in the sky, piling up or disappearing because of the burning rays of the sun. She wasn’t superstitious and she didn’t see any signs in what was around her, she knew that what was happening to her body had nothing to do with the changes in the weather, but she found herself paying attention to it for a while as if her she-wolf was really waiting a sign.

- “I’ll cook you something, stay here and rest” – Lisa brought her back, getting up from the sofa quickly after having looked her up and down.

- “No, you don’t need to!”

- “No one stays hungry in my house and you need to be healthy. I know that face. It’s okay, say nothing, I know!”

Her complaints went unheard and Y/N watched her go straight to the kitchen, with that short and martial step that gave her a more terrible look than her sometimes stern glances. Still sitting in her place she listened to the noise of pots, doors and stoves, while the house came to life and she began to look around, observing one by one, all the photos that surrounded her, memories of a family and a full, chaotic, but happy life.

A pack.

***

Roman hadn't expected to see her come home at that hour, even if after all they hadn't spent time with each other lately as they had promised to do. He had felt her scent creep into his mind as soon as she had crossed the threshold even if he had not heard her footsteps, on tiptoe as if she had to avoid attracting too much attention and the noise of the car had not been enough to make him stop working. His instinct remained to make sure she was okay, but now he had one more reason to add to the list to check.

After the chat they had had in the morning, the wise man had left the last documents that Roman would take care of before the fight, unnecessary precautions for the new succession they would not use. Business had to be postponed until he had time. So sitting at his desk, he waited with them in his hand, feeling Y/N pause beyond the door for a moment before continuing in their room direction.

She spent a lot of time there, preferring the limited space to the whole house, with the sole exception of the garden and only because she could easily access their private part of the reserve for her runs. Roman hadn’t accompanied her lately, but she was missing for our to do them and as much as it would have done him good to stretch his legs there, focusing on his human side, more vulnerable was the best choice rightnow. In the renewed silence of the room he took care of the documents, signing the pages on which Jey’s name had now been replaced by Solo’s and after rereading everything one last time he stood up, glancing at the ulafala before heading to their bedroom.

When he entered, Y/N’s scent had mixed with the fragrance of the body oil she used after the shower, air was a little thicker, humid, even if the open window to the outside was already cleaning everything up, letting in the cold wind. He closed it in silence, seeing Y/N turn to check on him with a side glance from the bathroom, already wrapped in a shirt too big for her shoulders, hands busy softening her bare caramel-colored legs, her curls already hidden for the night.

- “You didn’t go for your run” - he noted, freeing himself from his watch, breathing deeply, searching the air for a trace of something he didn't want to find.

Her smell. Just her good smell.

- "Not today, I'm tired" - Y/N replied, busy finishing quickly to rest or maybe just avoid... something else.

It’s so sweet... Our mate.

He would never have let her shower alone before, not after being separated for so long and with that delicious smell on her. He would have helped her with the cream and oil, sliding his hands a little higher despite her complaints, until he buried his face between her soft folds until they were both so tired they couldn't take it anymore. He would listen to her complain for the pleasure of keeping him in line and torturing him, and then snuggle against his side and Roman would stay there listening to her breathing, as she drifted off to sleep peacefully and then he too would fall asleep knowing he had his world there with him.

Those days seemed far away now. Their bond thin, the two of them different people once again.

- “You’ve been out all day” – he said, as she put everything away without paying him attention.

- “I went to your mama’s house, she says you should shave your beard”

- “You like it”

- “I told her”

His lips curled into a smile that didn’t last more than a moment, as he too made himself comfortable. Moments like that were what he had wanted, conversations so familiar, but everything suddenly had a strange sound, a hidden meaning now that doubt had crept inside him.

- “You went only there, to her”

He didn’t want to ask, he shouldn’t have, Y/N was different, and yet he couldn’t help it.

His comment, almost a question, hung in the silence of the room, until Roman stepped out of the closet, meeting Y/N’s dark gaze, her scent the only thing surrounding him in their most private space.

- “Who else?” – he heard her ask back, suddenly tense.

And Roman took a deep breath, trying to keep calm, avoid thinking that his rush to finish the day was for some other reason and her tension hid what would bring out the worst in him. He could have asked his mom, even the driver who had been waiting for her all day, but it was between the two of them and he wanted to hear it from her. He needed to hear and know it was just nothing, a useless worry that he could forget.

- “I was asking about your day” - he tried, looking for a soft approach, but Y/N was already on the defensive.

- “Today?” - she asked and Roman ran a hand over his beard, hiding a grimace of disappointment.

She always had to push him, it was a power that only her had over him. No one else. She always found a way.

Breathing deeply he decided to abandon the plans and close the distance between them, reaching her in the bathroom without rushing to position himself behind her. Her scent insinuated itself into his veins, sliding inside him like a second skin, down his guts and to his head, reminding him of the first time he had smelled her. It still happened to him, every single time, an overwhelmed sensation in his bones, a deja vu of the soul finally whole and now unable to bear the thought of losing her for something or worse… someone else.

She’s everything, we need her with us.

- “You talked to Paul” – he revealed, looking at her reflection in the mirror still fogged up on one side.

Beautiful, perfect, her face so pretty and her sharp gaze now glued to him, staring at him with a shadow in her that Roman couldn’t ignore and made his anxiety grow.

- “It’s impossible not to talk to Paul if he wanders around the house at all hours as if he lives here” – Y/N pointed out to him, now like a statue but unable to hide her annoyance.

And it was a reaction that Roman knew well, because it was the only way she reacted if the wiseman was somehow involved, she had never changed opinion about him, but now it only pushed him to ask himself more questions. Paul followed him like a shadow, he was in his house constantly, he had been present since their first day together, but it had never gone well between them and for some reason Y/N had decided to have civil conversations with him only now. Maybe because she couldn't talk about certain things in front of him, with him, because he had already said no to her, because she knew how he would react and what would happen if he found out who she was trying to protect somehow.

- “Solo saw you two talking” - he reported, searching for a reaction in her expression – “… I asked Paul and he told me a few things about your conversations” – he admitted seriously, seeing something in her gaze change, the feeling of her wolf suddenly present.

Jey had run after him when he smelled her. He had found her before him, down in the city, he had tried to get close to her the same day saying he had smelled something in her scent, he had told him…

No, he has had a real mate for years. She is mine.

- “Of course he did, because you went to him before me” – Y/N accused him and Roman took a moment to take the blow, tension high between them now.

He had not disrespected her. He never would have. She was sacred to him, untouchable. That's why he had doubted anyone, but not her, because she had never been a possibility in his mind, he would have always chosen her and instead he had heard stories that questioned their bond. Stories that might not be crazy, that could explain her bad mood and his cousin's arrogance. It wasn't paranoia or disrespect, he was trying to understand and discuss it as she had made him promise.

- “I don't have to watch my back from you” - Roman tried to explain and maybe it was the hard tone, but his wolf clearly felt Y/N's bad mood like a weight on his chest.

- “But you want to know where I've been, who I've been with and what I've been doing”

- “You don't like what's happening, you're the one who told me Y/N”

- “How could I?”

- “You and Jey”-

- “Me and who?!” - she stopped him, turning to look him straight in the face this time.

He didn’t like hearing her say that name at all now, but the feeling of her offense through the bond, the pain the insinuation had caused her, the weight of her eyes on him blocked the growl in his throat.

- “Do you think I went to him? Or that I would go to him after everything that happened to you, after telling them to stay away?!” – she asked and even hiding it behind her armor, Roman felt her voice crack at the implications given her nature as an omega.

He didn’t have that opinion of her. He had fallen into the mistake of treating her according to some stereotypes at the beginning, yes, but it was a mistake he had corrected immediately, now he knew her. Y/N was so much more. He didn’t think certain things about her… she was everything to him and that was why he feared the implications of her bonding with someone else. He didn’t want to lose her, he couldn’t, he wouldn’t stand the idea, not even for a moment. He was trying to understand because of their bond, he would never have done it for anyone else, no one else mattered as much as she did.

He squeezed his eyes shut, giving in to an exhausted breath and leaned down to leave a kiss on her head, caressing her shoulders over the shirt, hoping to feel her relax and thus find peace for himself too.

- “You are my mate. You’re the only one I can trust, do you understand how important it is?” – he tried to explain, staring at their reflection together in the mirror.

Y/N remained still however, rigid in her place despite his caresses and Roman stopped, smelling her to maintain composure while the annoyance grew in his chest, abandoning that attempt, moving his gaze away to focus on her exposed neck where her weak point had been calling him since their first time, but in those days more than before.

Everything would have been easier with the mark, it would have been better for everyone and instead Roman was there asking questions and dragging out conversations, waiting to move on and leave those problems behind. It would be simple, it would be quick, it would open the doors to their future together, the one that his cousin threatened to take away from him and she seemed to want to keep away.

- “It doesn’t matter”- he heard her whisper, understanding the reason for Roman sudden trance and he straightened up suddenly, deciding that he had had enough for today.

It mattered instead. Maybe not for her who had grown up terrified of the idea of mates because of the traumas of her past, but it mattered more than anything else and soon she would understand it too. It was inevitable, as was the fight with Jey. Whatever the reason why Y/N had decided to talk with Paul, that didn't matter and neither did her efforts, real or otherwise, to stop them for the sake of one or the other. There was almost only one day left now and when it arrived, there would be nothing to do for Jey.

Protect the pack.

- “The wise man… he won’t bother you again” – he reassured her, seeing her raise her eyes to him again as she heard him walk away.

- “He’s fired?” – she asked without a hint of sarcasm, but it was something Roman couldn’t afford, not even to please her.

- “I’ll tell him to stay away from here. It’s your house”

What he could wasn’t enough though and Y/N’s expression changed again, getting worse even when his phone started ringing from the next room, almost as if the wise man had been waiting for the perfect moment to enter the scene. Roman had given him a mission, one to make up for what he had done, an advantage that would have already been a checkmate to the wannabe alpha if it had been successful. Something it was better for Y/N not to know, at least not at the moment.

Next to him Y/N didn’t even wait to see him take the phone, before getting up and turning her back to him. Her sixth sense or her bad mood perhaps guiding her.

- “I’m tired, I’m going to bed” – she murmured without trying any further to fix things and Roman watched her climbing between pillows and sheets, to curl up in a corner, shifting into the immobile figure with whom he now shared his nights.

***

It was starting to get cold. There was one night left until the harvest moon and therefore the new season.

Him and Naomi hadn’t bought a house near the reserve, they preferred the city with its lights and noises to the endless sea of trees and desolate roads frequented only by foreigns, but he could feel it even from there. The air was humid outside, there was the smell of wet grass and the clouds passed too often in the dark sky, carried by the wind that rose from the ocean to gather on the green barrier of the reserve. In a few weeks there would be no more announcements for visitors and their bonfires, but reports on TV about weather and risks for the population. It was the most uncertain time of the year.

With his hood pulled up tightly over his head, shaking off the cold, he checked one last time the backyard where his kids had played with the dogs before dinner. Nao had told him to take care of it the next day, but mama had raised him well and he couldn’t go and lie down on the bed to rest knowing that she would be the one to do it for him when he got up at dawn for other chores the next morning.

He had reached the pool when something at the end of the backyard, however, seemed to move in the dark and with a green ball he had recovered in his hand, he went to check, leaving his searches pending. He thought it was some animal that had climbed over the fence from the back gate, but he found himself in front of something bigger.

- “ ‘aight you scared the shit out of me, you know that uce?!” – he complained, glaring at Solo who was standing on the path, with a black hood on his head too.

He was standing there dressed like a thief, with his usual dark expression, almost avoiding breathing and Jimmy had thought the worst for a moment as he approached. Even after all those years he still didn't understand how it had been possible for his lil brother to change so much, but unfortunately he knew the answer, the street and a certain lifestyle have that effect if you have no one to back you up when you really need it and the boy who sang in his room and in the kitchen, so similar to him, had disappeared for a while now.

- “Whatchu doing out here huh? It's late, you shouldn't be walking around at this hour like a damn thief” – he scolded him, playfully throwing him Marley’s toy, but Solo didn't move, letting the green ball fall at his feet with a ridiculous sound.

He should have been home by this time, he had kids too, a wife soon, it was no time to sneak in through the back gate and set up an ambush in the backyard dressed like that.

For a long moment Solo didn’t move, even though Jimmy wasn’t expecting much anyway, remaining silent and staring at him, his dark eyes shining for the moonlight filtering through the clouds, hitting him and his chain. He looked older than the last time Jimmy had seen him, it was weird.

- “I need to know if you’re sure” – he said after a while, his voice low but soft compared to how such a badass he looked.

- “Yep, I’m sure, it’s late kid! Get yo ass home! Move!” – he nodded, looking at him.

- “I’m talking about Jey. You sure you want to be on his side?”

That’s why he’s here.

Jimmy let his head loll forward, his hands on his hips, as he let out a heavy breath.

The idea that all the chaos would soon end and with it, the dictatorial reign that his crazy cousin had established for years relieved him, but he felt the weight of what was happening weighing on his shoulders. He had been the one who started it all, the first to rebel and yet his brothers were the most involved, even though he was the eldest.

Jey had become so serious, he was quieter and more withdrawn every day, he was already fighting in his head and even being close to him, step by step, every second, Jimmy felt that something was already missing. Jey… he spoke to the elders alone, he decided alone, thought without leaving the bond open for him, their synchronicity had broken and Jimmy was starting to worry about him, he didn't want to see him crushed by burdens and obligations, he didn't want him to change like Roman had.

And Solo… he had taught him how to ride a bike, taken him to get his first tattoo and yelled at him for bad grades in school when pops forgot he had a house to go and do what almost all the men in their family did. He hadn’t always been there for him like he should have, but he was still his brother and he really couldn’t stand seeing him come back like a puppy to Roman, with his absurd and toxic ideas.

- “You shouldn’t be here asking stupid questions at this hour, idiot. We are brothers, twins. You’re the one on the wrong side, I’m sure” – he looked him over and something in Solo’s expression changed.

He had never understood what the hell was going through his head, but maybe it was the right night to start.

Maybe he had gone there at night to avoid Roman, maybe doubts and suspicions had made their way inside him too seeing how big uce was behaving, maybe he was already tired of doing everything he ordered and the blood had called him home. Jimmy and Jey were his brothers, Roman was family, but it wasn’t the same, he’d never been there for him and he didn’t really know him. Maybe going to war for him, was too much.

- “Solo listen…” - he began, reaching out to rest a hand on his shoulder – “it’s not too late for change side” – he said.

Brother.

Together they could do it. They would have each other’s backs. Together as a pack, lone wolves never came to a happy end, mama always said it.

Solo looked at him strangely, his dark eyes moving to the hand that Jimmy had put on his shoulder, before looking back at him and doing the same gesture.

- “I’m sorry”- he said, but Jimmy didn’t have time to reassure him.

His fingers tightened quickly around his hoodie, swinging him with all his weight out of the gate, slamming him down onto the street with a blow straight to the throat. The contact with the sidewalk, the pain that shot through his head as his temple hit, made him so dizzy that the next few seconds were a blur. All Jimmy felt was pain, everywhere, and blows coming over and over everywhere, as Solo held him down with one knee pressed into his chest. He reached out his hands, grabbing his hoodie, the ground, scratching the asphalt, the moonlight and the street lights mixing in confused trails in his eyes. He wanted to speak, to react, but he couldn’t and his head felt like a toy in his little brother’s hands, bouncing everywhere and making his ears ring. He felt the taste of blood on his tongue and its consistency on his skin, running down his cheek and down his back, his muscles giving way to kicks and punches, his shoulder bent like it shouldn’t have. He felt like an inanimate body at the mercy of a blind and resigned fury, he took it in the void of his head, trying to keep the bond with Naomi closed so she wouldn’t come out, so she wouldn’t see. He had no idea how long it had taken Solo to reduce him to an inanimate body, but just as he had started, he stopped. Through his swollen eye, with the distorted vision he had at that moment, Jimmy only glimpsed his shadow, standing beside him for a moment before disappering, not a word, not another glance before they parted again. Or so he thought. He didn’t know, he didn’t understand at that moment. He lay there, struggling, trying to recover whatever strength he had left, his mind wandering, confused by physical and mental pain, fighting to stay awake. He tried to change to recover, but he couldn’t, it hurt, and so he dragged himself to the gate, trudging in a filthy trail to Marley’s toy to squeeze it with his last energy.

In the end, Naomi would have to go get him too.

Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @racerchix21 @alyyaanna @expert-texpert @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @surdelcielo @keybladeofsteel @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @gobbersworld @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @civildawn @romanmydaddy @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @darqchilddaydreamz @harmshake @sortudademais @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @joannasteez @reignsx @kianaleani @daguenoire @extra-11 @333creolelady @snowpanda18 @brattyfics @mzv11 @romanreignseater @dreamsinfocus @vebner37 @depressedneedingrevenge @cyberdejos2 @mahi-wayy @jxtina-86 @southerngirl41 @smile1318 @headoftheetable @wrestlingprincess80

#roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns x y/n #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns x female reader #roman reigns fanfic #wwe fanfiction #wwe fic #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns x original character #roman reigns x you #roman reigns smut

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bluehourbucky · 1 year

Note

Ooo I'm a different anon but could u do a part 2 for the vampire oje. Doesn't have to be smutty. Just love their interactions

Bite me

pairing: vampire!bucky x innocent!reader

warnings: blood / bj / sucking blood / face fucking

a/n: sorry it took so long hope you like it

18+ ONLY

minors do not interact

strawberry juice (part 1)

________________________________________

Bucky was surprised how quickly you've accepted that you'll be his for the time being, he didn't even have to hypnotise you.

"My new home? Why? "

"Oh my darling you're just so precious, you see I need you to survive and you want to help me right?"

you looked confused so Bucky continued.

"So as you can tell already I'm a vampire doll, and I need blood to survive and you just happen to have the tastiest blood that keeps me fed for a long time. We can do this the easy way or the hard way the choice is yours."

You sat there on the bed trying to put your brain to work and figure out what to do but your brain just wouldn't cooperate. It's like there was fog clouding it.

"Are you going to hurt me?"

Bucky had smiled flashing his fangs at you which made you avert your gaze.

"Depends."

"On what?"

"If you're a good girl or not."

And so far you've been so good and Bucky was thriving, he'd never been so well fed he didn't even have to slumber to get energy.

Steve had been extremely kind and helpful to you, he didn't treat you like a prisoner.

As of recently you've started going on walks with both Bucky and Steve, never alone though.

"But I won't run away." you tried to argue and you really hadn't planned on going anywhere, you were well fed Steve had cooked well balanced meals every day, you had a room and everything at your disposal.

You even wanted to help around the house but Steve wouldn't let you it was his job and his job only.

It wasn't that bad at all.

Paid food, housing and you didn't even have to work except when Bucky was taking the blood from you but that wasn't even that bad since Steve was taking little amounts of blood putting it in blood bags for Bucky, like donating blood but to a vampire.

All in all not bad.

However your sleep schedule was messed up.

Most of the times you didn't know if it was day or night because of the blinds and dark curtains covering all of the windows most of the time.

It has been around 2 months since you've started living with them and you still didn't understand what made your blood special, Bucky wouldn't tell you.

"Good morning doll, when will you start wearing pants around the house, you're tempting anyways."

Since the first night Bucky hadn't touched you like he did the first night. Bucky was sure if he did something like that again he wouldn't be able to stop himself from taking you.

You turned quickly almost dropping your midnight snack on the floor.

"I was just-"

"No need to explain yourself doll, just heard you thought I should keep you company, maybe even get a breakfast while I'm at it."

For some reason, your legs shiver and the need to close your thighs overwhelmed you so you just do that. Since you'd "moved in" he'd kept a distance and you'd be lying if you said it didn't hurt you. You missed talking to him, he didn't even tell you about the books he'd read.

"You never keep me company you're just hungry."

Bucky was taken aback by your words. You're his sweet girl you've never talked like that to him. But maybe you're right he hasn't been keeping you company he avoids you like the plague, it's been weeks since he drank from you physically.

If he was being honest he liked you way more than he'd like to admit. Yes your blood was good but he started feeling guilty.

"Do you want my company, pretty girl?" He'd come close to you, and you sucked in a breath, Bucky had taken the bowl from your hands.

He caressed you cheek softly, his finger barely touching you, but making your body temperature rise nonetheless.

"Why don't you look at me huh?" Bucky lifts your chin and your eyes meet his, oh and they are so pretty and your pretty pink lips that would look even better around his cock.

"Please." you don't even know what you're begging for, his attention, his touch?

"Please, what darling? Use your words pretty girl."

"Pay attention to me. You've been ignoring me I don't like being ignored. I wore so many pretty clothes and you won't notice me."

His pretty girl is an attention whore.

"Oh don't you worry, I noticed you, I heard your little whimpers when you tried to take care of the ache between your legs and you just couldn't. The little shorts and dresses you've been wearing were the only thing I paid attention to."

As if the weight has been lifted off your shoulders you smiled exhaling, blood was what Bucky lived off, but you lived for attention.

"Really? Why didn't you talk to me then! You didn't even tell me if you liked the book you were reading."

Bucky chuckled, damn you were adorable.

"Well I'll tell you if you do something for me."

You nodded eagerly.

"You don't even know what I want you to do."

"But I want to know."

"Have you ever heard of "curiosity killed the cat?""

"Pff that's not real. Tell me."

He'd taken your hand and let you to his bedroom , he didn't need Steve coming in and ruining the fun.

"Where's your bed? Do you not have a bed?"

Bucky laughs, it's been a while since he laughed so much.

"I don't need a bed."

His bedroom was more like a formal lounge room the long couch a fireplace and a lounge chair and of course a coffin standing against the wall. Bucky let's you scan the room before talking again.

"Okay that's enough looking come here." you obey instantly.

Bucky stands between the fire place and the couch in the middle of the room and picks up a pillow behind him, throwing it down on the carpet in front of him. Your eyes follow him.

"Go on." he points to the pillow and you just stand not sure what you should do. Seeing you need guidance Bucky grabs the back of your head and lowers you to your knees. He didn't use any force.

"Wil you tell me now?" your doe eyes look up at him innocently.

"Nope, we haven't even started, doll."

"But-"

You are cut off by Bucky pushing your face into his clothed buldge. He's been wanting you like this for a while and who says dreams don't come true.

"See what you do to me? Need you to take care of this before I tell you about the books I've read."

"But I don't know how." you want to do whatever he needs you to but you've never done anything like that before.

"Don't worry precious I'll help you, why don't you help me take these off first." Bucky takes your hands and leads you to the waistband of his sweatpants. You pull it down and Bucky instantly feels better, his hard on is still trapped in his underwear but much better with one layer taken off.

"Good girl." you sit not knowing what to do next so you take the waistband of his underwear releasing his painfully hard cock.

You forget to breathe, and don't know where to look and right as you were about to turn your head Bucky holds it in place.

"You need to see what you've done pretty." With one hand in your hair and the other on his length gathering the precum.

"Open up" and you do, he slips two fingers into your mouth loving the way you look tasting him.

"Give me your hands put them here." Bucky places your hands at the base of his cock, your hands are warm and soft and he thinks he's about to cum with just one touch.

"That's it." he praises you when you start moving your hands, your movements are a bit sloppy but enjoyable.

He groans when you squeeze him a bit harder.

"Sorry!" you think you've hurt him so you stop.

"Oh don't you dare stop now." Bucky says looking down at you, and what a sight to see. Your little hands hugging his thickness, he needs your mouth immediately.

"Open up for me." Bucky says, taking his cock and slapping it on your mouth.

"More." he says sternly and you open as wide as you can.

"There you go." Bucky smiles when you close around him, he's only half way in but it's already too big for you. He starts using your mouth, his thrusts are gentle not pushing you further into him. Your hands are on his thighs holding on but not for long.

"What you can't fit in you hold in your hands understand?" you nodd and immediately take the rest of his length, you use one hand to pump him and the other gets a hold of his balls. Bucky moans the moment he feels your hands on his balls playing with them.

"Doing so good pretty girl" he groans and feels his self control slipping, he needs you to take all of him. Bucky couldn't take his eyes off of you tears rolling down your red face. You suddenly pull away panting.

"Can't breathe." Bucky chuckles and brings you to his cock again.

"Breathe through your nose honey." Once you've gotten used to it Buckys thrusts became more frantic and unforgiving. He didn't stop when hit the back of your throat and you gagged saliva falling down your neck right between your breasts.

"Fuck me." Bucky breathes out, and with every thurst he groans and moans absolutely using your throat for his pleasure. Eyes rolling to the back of his head when your throat contracts squeezing him just right.

"So good, right there." you're holding tightly onto his thighs your nails digging into them which just sends Bucky into euphoria.

"Don't you dare spit out." Bucky says through gripped teeth just seconds before he finishes into your mouth sending cum down your throat. He rides out his orgasm his cock finally softening as he shoots the last drop of his cum.

Bucky pulls out and shuts your mouth closed like you're a dog.

"Swallow." not knowing what else to do you swallow the salty substance.

"Such a good girl for me." he says when you open your mouth to show him that you've swallowed every last drop. Some of it managed to escape and dripped down on your shirt but that's okay.

"Can you tell me now?" you manage to say despite it hurting of your throat.

"Of course darling. Just clean me up first and I'll tell you everything."

___________________________________________

[THE END]

please I know this was bad smut but I'm trying! I'm not used to writing it and I hope I did a decent job!

I would appreciate tips or constructive criticism what I could do better <3

likes comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #vampire!bucky x innocent!reader #vampire!bucky #vampire!bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky masterlist #sebastian stan characters #bluehourbuckyask #bucky smut

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bengiyo · 3 months

Text

Don't Care for an Old Man's Underwear! Ep 4 Stray Thoughts

Thanks to @isaksbestpillow for making this watch possible.

Last time, Makoto went on a friend date with Daichi to find an appropriate gift for his closeted boyfriend's father. They eventually found a massager that felt appropriate. Meanwhile, Kakeru has taken some steps to exit the house more, but he's taking care to avoid kids his own age because he never feels like he can connect with them. We got additional insight into Daichi, learning that he's suffered excruciating homophobia, and every day he chooses to be brave enough to be kind. We also met Daichi's mom, and I appreciate that he probably learned his considerate approach to people from her. Daichi and Makoto had an amazing conversation about what to do if Kakeru is trans, and also in the public bath. It felt like Makoto made a genuine breakthrough last episode.

I like how gentle the mom is being with Kakeru about this situation. Even though she's so happy to see him in person, she's not making it feel overly special that he's out and talking, and she led with check ins.

It's really important to me that Mika is making the choice about Kakeru's future one he gets to decide.

I don't know how they were before Makoto decided to update himself, but their teamwork feels familiar. I think he at least trusted his wife's instincts when it comes to their kids.

I love that we're seeing Daichi with his boyfriend away from the Okita family. We should know what his own life looks like. I'm also enjoying the vibe between him and his huge boyfriend. I love that they're both veterinary students.

Man, Daichi overwhelms me with feelings every time. He's so good about framing a challenge or difficulty in a way that's manageable.

I liked Makoto getting a glass out for Mika to have a beer with him. It felt like it was something they do sometimes. I do wish he'd tell Kakeru this story, too. I think he'd appreciate knowing that his dad became this macho type because of bullying.

I'm gonna cry again about this conversation in the car. Really Kakeru just needed to know that his dad had his back. Gender is not so simple, and I like that Kakeru clarified that he doesn't dislike being a man, but he doesn't want to present as coarse or 'manly,' and wants to be cute.

"No one is more ignorant and obstinate than me. You've got immunity," ended up being way more heartfelt than it might have a few episodes ago.

"Let me think about it," has been hitting so hard from the Japanese shows since 2021. I don't know the specifics of what Madoka has been through, but I like that his immediate thought after catching himself was to thank Daichi for the regard he showed his parents.

So relieved that these girls weren't immediately mean to Kakeru.

Don't blow this for us, Makoto. Just be patient and let Kakeru show you the way.

Well well well, the girls want our boy's advice.

Crying again about the mom's note.

I like this woman on their team. I think she's Shimura. She does not take workplace abuse in stride and holds her ground.

I remain obsessed with Apple.

These girls let him opt out of karaoke. There is hope.

Wait, but this overachiever seems pissed that he's crushing her hustle.

I do love that Moe came running for her brother.

Aw, Makoto didn't get the "keep it normal" memo and overdid it.

Hey, Moe is bringing the dad in on the situation now! That feels earned from episode 2!

I, too, hope Kakeru finds his B-suke-kun.

Mmm, familiar kids from Madoka.

This show is so rewarding. The relationship developments from previous episodes continually pay off. Daichi's influence is helping both Okita men make it through their troubles, and now Makoto is able to coordinate with Mika and Moe about Kakeru. Everything isn't suddenly fixed, but you can see the effort beginning to pay off. I'm going to be thinking about that car conversation for a long time. I am glad we're seeing an independent Daichi plot, but I am worried it won't end happily.

#Ben watches #ossan no pantsu ga nandatte ii janai ka #don't care for an old man's underwear #oppan #japanese drama #jdrama #lgbt tv

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notwarriorswiki · 1 year

Note

Knot, please enlighten me with this Ravenpaw. He looks amazing

In Po12, Tigerclaw attempts to kill Ravenpaw rather soon after Firepaw joins ThunderClan, rather than allowing him to lurk around for moons. Firepaw even thinks Tigerclaw successfully killed his new friend, and Tigerclaw belives Ravenpaw bled out after all the injuries he sustained. But in truth, he was found by Scourge.

"Should I send you to join your clanmates?" "No! Please! Anything but that!" Ravenpaw cried out. The black tom seemed to pause, icy blue eyes widening faintly. "Don't send me back. I don't want to go back to ThunderClan. Please, I can't go back!" Ravenpaw dug his face into his paws, practically able to taste the dirt as the thick stench of blood wafted on his pelt. His breathing was growing slower, eyes becoming heavier, his voice but a timid murmur in the cold darkness of twolegplace. "Please, I don't want... clan..."

Scourge saw himself in that quivering cat that day. He brought him back to be tended to by their medic, and outfitted Ravenpaw with everything he'd need to be a thriving member of his clan - BloodClan. There Ravenpaw took on the name Raven, and met Barley, Scratch, and other kind cats.

It was no secret to the other BloodClan cats that Raven received special treatment from Scourge. He became practically like a son to the BloodClan leader, who involved him in all aspects of leadership in the territory. Unknowingly, Raven was being primed to take over Scourge's role one day.

Raven was indoctrinated with all of the loyal and active BloodClan cats. From what he saw, they took care of each other, and it was like he found a new home that was safe and away from Tigerclaw. That changed though when he encountered Brownpaw of ShadowClan.

"Ravenpaw! Is it really you? Bluestar said you ran away, but I never thought I'd see it with my own eyes!" Brownpaw chirped. The small apprentice lashed his tail with a chuckle. "So you did become a kittypet, huh?" Raven curled back his lip with a shake of his head. "This collar isn't from a twoleg. It's from my new clan, and you're in our territory." He straightened up and flicked his ear. "What are you doing in twolegplace anyway?" Brownpaw frowned and tilted his head. "New... clan? Whatever - look I got lost chasing some mice, ok. Your territory smells anyway. I don't want to be here, so could you point me back the way I came?" With a small huff, Raven nodded. He supposed ShadowClan cats did have to hunt in odd and smelly places. He couldn't blame Brownpaw, after all it had taken himself some time to get used to the alleyways of twolegplace. He flicked his tail and nodded back. "You take a right just the way you came. When you see that house with the pine trees, that's your sign you've reached the territory. Turn right again and you'll find the forest in no time. Now get out of here, ok?" He paused. "And don't tell anyone you saw me." Brownpaw scoffed. "Why should I?" Raven opened his mouth to protest, but Brownpaw chuckled and shook his head. "I'm kidding. I wouldn't want to be in ThunderClan either. I gotta get back before I get in trouble. See you, kittypet!" "I'm not a kittypet!" Raven protested. But Brownpaw was already gone, disappearing out of sight to return to the forest he called home.

But Brownpaw never made it home.

Upon returning from patrol, Raven found the ShadowClan apprentice's body strewn over the gathering grounds of Scourge's Alley. The tower of boxes were the throne of the black cat who reminded his cats what they did to any clan cats they encountered.

"The Clans must be eradicated."

And thus Raven slowly began to uncover the world Scourge hadn't let him see before. The cats who didn't ally themselves with his cause, who were forced to pay dues or risk being punished within their own gardens. The spread of hate for those outside BloodClan's walls, breeding an "Us against Everyone" mentality. It was familiar, yet just as horrifying. Just as the Clans hated outsiders, so too did BloodClan - and the Clans were those outsiders.

"Why didn't you kill me that day?" Raven quietly asked. Scourge blinked, surprised by the young tom's question. He almost looked as if he might ask why he asked such a question, but the way his ears fell back told Raven he didn't need to. He looked away, raising his head high. "Because I saw myself in you, Raven." It was his turn to blink back in surprise. "What?" "You're not like them." Scourge flicked his tail, blue eyes looking down upon Raven from his perch atop his throne. "You're not a clan cat." "B-But I was-" "No. You weren't."

He may not have been a clan cat anymore, but Raven knew clan cats who he still cared about. The Clans were flawed, yes, but he didn't think everyone apart of them deserved to die.

Raven ends up discovering later that Barley too isn't so happy with Scourge's rule. His sister wasn't willing to fight against clan cats, and as such she was called a traitor by Scourge and nearly killed. She was believed to be dead, but Barley took her into hiding, and brings her food so she can remain undetected. At first he thinks Raven will out him, but Raven does not. Instead he wishes to change BloodClan and twolegplace. He realizes that while he's grateful to Scourge, that this cannot continue.

Raven and Barley have their own story, changing BloodClan from the inside and building up a supportive group that wants change. Raven even reunites with Fireheart and Graystripe later, collaborating as they exchange intel on Tigerstar. They learn Tigerstar has learned to communicate and guide the dogs through the knowledge he has learned through Scourge, and that the BloodClan leader is helping Tigerstar to get close to him so he can launch his war against the Clans.

When the war happens, BloodClan is split, Raven and Barley revealing their own forces as much of Scourge's army takes their side. They wanted to live their lives in Twolegplace in peace, without thinking about the Clans. This new clan would no longer be BloodClan, eating dirt off the ground. Rather they would be SkyClan, who look up towards the future.

When Scourge is killed by Firestar, Raven takes back his old name of Ravenpaw. He collects Scourge's severed collar, gingerly removing the dog teeth that no doubt jabbed into his throat every day - Ravenpaw knew the feeling fell at this point. He remembered when Scourge told him how he was reminded of himself when he found him. Ravenpaw wishes he could've known that Scourge, before draping the broken collar over his shoulders.

He'd always love Scourge like a father, and would carry his memory with him all of his life. He would be like Scourge - the old Scourge. He would be Ravenpaw.

#warrior cats #po12 #art #ravenpaw #barley #scourge #au

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beetles-and-rock · 8 months

Text

Dough Expands in the Heat

Finally, I'm posting it. This oneshot has been in the works for nearly a year, and I can finally say I'm very happy with it!

Big thanks to @outer-andromeda for cheering me on and helping motivate me to finish. You've been such an amazing help!

Thank you to @bioexorcizm and @maddcelestial proof reading this for me. I value your help and your kindness.

Content warnings

-soft feeding/stuffing kink

-tummy kink

-self-loathing

-body-shaming

-body dismorphia

-mention of panic attack

-soft tummy play

Due to the NSFW nature of the ending minors should not interact.

Thank you!!!

The comforting smell of cinnamon and sugar wafted from the kitchen throughout the house. The oven gave off a cozy warmth that combated the chill of the autumn afternoon. You glanced over the half-wall that split the kitchen from the living room to see your husband sprawled out across the couch, sleeping peacefully. An eclectic playlist the two of you had put together of titles from both your favorite rock bands, solo artists and singles sounded from the stereo in the living room. They weren’t the kind of songs most would consider to be mellow enough to sleep to, but Dewey, being a lover of all things rock, seemed to have no issue snoozing through almost anything.

The soundtrack of his lazy Saturday was also the fuel to your momentum in the kitchen. You hummed along to Def Leppard’s ‘Love Bites’ absentmindedly while carefully checking over the handwritten recipe on a yellowed index card to be sure you had done everything to the letter. Upon self-confirmation, you set the tray of doughy spirals filled with butter, cinnamon, and sugar you had labored over into the oven.

You had recently taken up baking as a new hobby since you tended to enjoy it when you had a reason to, or had a specific taste for something. The last several weeks you’d been trying different recipes you either always wanted to, or ones that had piqued your interest online. Dewey often helped, or gave tips, that usually involved adding a bit more sugar or butter than the recipes often called for. Still, the assistance he most enjoyed was being your taste tester. He wasn’t always the best at trying to hide his disgust when you burnt something, but more often than not, when his face turned to one of pure bliss, it made you melt, driving your desire to improve and expand your repertoire even more.

You went over to the kitchen table to rest while the rolls baked. You watched Dewey’s stomach rise and fall through the doorway in the kitchen. Sure you had missed having him hug you from behind, pressing his soft body into your back, and resting his head on your shoulder while he watched you bake, still you had good reason for wanting to work on this particular recipe while he slept. You wanted to bake something special for all his hard work with the kids lately for their upcoming gig. Though the show was still a couple weeks away, he really only had the weekends to rest. So you closely followed his Grandmother’s Cinnamon roll recipe, determined to get it exactly right. Besides, the sight of him so calm and sound was rewarding in itself, even if he was drooling a little.

The chime of the oven’s alarm caught you off guard. You had been so entranced in the rhythm of Dewey’s breathing, watching his shirt riding up little by little, threatening to show just a sliver of his middle, that you jumped when you heard it go off. You quickly went over, pulled on your oven mitts, and pulled out the tray. The heavenly aroma bombarded you, then billowed out through the rest of the house. They looked amazing. . . well if you had to go by the way Dewey had often made them. Your decor wasn’t very skilled yet, but when it came to Dewey, messy was the name of the game. You lifted your head to see that Dewey was still asleep.

“Good,” You thought. If anything could wake him from his slumber, apart from being startled awake, it was the scent of food. You would still be able to surprise him. You hesitated when you brought in the tray of extra glazy, cinnamon-heavy treats, he was so very serene you almost didn’t want to wake him. Still you knew he preferred these particular rolls warm, so you set the tray down on the coffee table, and went over to the couch.

Dewey’s eyelashes fluttered as he stirred from the pleasant sensation of your lips softly peppering his cheeks with kisses. He reached up and lazily pulled you down over him, trapping you in a bear hug.

“Hey there, sleepyhead.” You giggled.

Dewey grunted, eyes still closed. He managed to mumble a barely audible: “Hey Babe.”

“You awake?” You teased.

Dewey whined in response, but couldn’t hide the corners of his lips turning upward.

“I have a surprise for you.”

He opened one eye looking directly up at you. That got his attention.

“Surprise?”

You nodded and kissed his nose. He hugged you tighter and locked his arms, trapping you against himself. He looked up at you now with both his sleepy but playful brown eyes.

“Dewey!” You squirmed in his hold, but there was no escape. There was no denying the muscle from years of hauling instruments around sitting beneath the layer of fatty cushioning that made his embrace so comfortable. He chuckled at your futile attempts to pull away. He rubbed his scruffy chin against your cheek to tease you further, knowing good and well you enjoyed the sensation of his

prickly hairs on your skin. You squealed and giggled, fighting fruitlessly.

“Ah-ah! You brought this on yourself, babe! There’s no escape-”

He paused suddenly. The scent of the baked treats filled his nostrils. He took a deep whiff, closed his eyes, and sighed out a long hum. A dreamy grin spread across his face. When his eyes opened they were knowingly locked on you.

“You didn’t.”

You giggled giving your own guilty little grin, along with a scrunched, freckled nose.

"I most certainly did!"

Dewey let you go, and sat up quickly looking over the tray of familiar looking cinnamon rolls.

"Oh babe!" He beamed up at you, then looked back down at the tray, eyes gleaming with excitement.

You leaned into his shoulder. "Well are you gonna sit there and gawk, or are you gonna try one and tell me if I got it right?" You pulled the tray closer to him. He immediately grabbed one, and took a big bite. The look on his face made all your effort worth it. First, his eyes widened, then shut loosely as a moan escaped his lips.

Memories of his late grandmother came flooding back to him as the toasty spiraled bun fell apart across his tongue: the way her house smelled on the day she did her Christmas baking every year, learning how to bake the treats along with her and getting to lick the spoon, the way she spoiled him by baking his favorite treats whenever he came to visit, how she would care for him when he'd stay home sick from school and neither of his parents could be there for him, all the Elvis records she'd play for him; and the way everything she said about him completely contradicted the things his father would say about him.

He blinked a few times feeling his eyes sting.

"What a woman." He thought. He glanced at you with misty eyes, vision slightly clouded.

"What a woman."

He took another bite of his cinnamon roll and sat back, allowing the memories of having been so loved to wash over him.

You watched as his expressions changed from blissful to tearful. You grew worried.

"Babe? Are you alright?"

What happened? Was there a bad aftertaste? Making him cry certainly wasn't your intention.

Your question seemed to revive him from his thoughts.

"Mmhm!" He shoved more of the roll into his mouth, and hummed in pleasure. "God! These are good!" He managed through his full mouth. He swallowed looking back at you. He noticed the concern on your face.

"Are you okay?"

You burst into a small giggle at his antics.

"Yeah, I'm fine." You crawled into his lap and kissed his cheek. "I'm glad you like them."

You leaned down toward the coffee table, picking up another roll, and raising it to his mouth. With a gentle tilt of your head, you offered to feed him more of the decadent treat. Dewey happily obliged, eating hungrily from your hand. He settled his arm around your waist pulling you close as possible.

This had been a more recent thing between the two of you starting only a week or so before you were married. There were a few playful forkfuls here and there. Now, several months later you would feed him snacks and, every once in a while, entire meals. When you baked something though, you almost definitely would start feeding him and he would eat whatever you put to his lips.

You continued feeding him at a gentle pace while the two of you returned to your conversation.

"So, did I get them right?"

Dewey smiled and swallowed his current mouthful.

"You nailed it, babe! They're almost exactly like she used to make them."

You watched his eyes lower and his shoulders sink a little. He missed her. You cupped his cheek and lifted his face back up to your own. His shiny eyes met yours.

"She would be proud of you, Dewey."

His lips trembled for a moment, still his smile returned.

"Hey! No makin' me cry, okay?" He grinned. You kissed him.

You felt his lips grin against yours, and could taste the traces of his late afternoon snack on his. The two of you lingered a moment before he gently squeezed you against himself as he broke the kiss.

"Besides," He went on, picking up another cinnamon roll. "I'd rather remember her happily while eating these." He stuffed it into his mouth and moaned again.

You cooed at his sentimentality. Dewey had a tendency towards hiding any emotional vulnerability, or at least he used to. He had his telltale signs, such as staring off, pressing his lips together and looking downward, or turning away altogether if he felt he might cry. All things that did persist, but less and less around you. So, you let his ever so slight change of tone slide.

He sat back again and looked at you out of the corners of his eyes. You watched the edge of his lip curl into a smirk; a little spot of glaze in his mustache.

You returned the smirk.

"You want me to keep feeding you don't you?"

He nodded and grinned lazily, and hugged you tight. He hiccupped, and put a hand to his stomach.

"You okay?" You leaned into him, resting your hand on his. Dewey hummed and nodded.

"Yeah."

"Alright." You chuckled, reaching down to the tray. "I just wasn't sure if you were getting full or not."

"Ha! Me? No way! You know I take my pastries very seriously."

You held another roll up to his mouth, smirking. "Ah, but not quite as seriously as your music."

Dewey grinned, biting into the roll. "You got me there, babe."

He proceeded to talk through mouthfuls about how well the kids were doing, and that he couldn't wait for the gig coming up. He was only able to eat about three more before the dull ache of warning in his stomach rose enough to actually concern him. He paused to huff out a sigh, and run his hand up and down his belly. He groaned softly. His head lolled in your direction and he gave you the most pitiful look.

"What is it baby?" You asked teasingly. You could see he was certainly bloated. His shirt had finally ridden up enough to expose a sliver of his belly. But you knew your husband. You knew how he sounded when he was actually in a lot of pain, and you also knew how he sounded when he was milking the duller pain of a full stomach in hopes of getting you to rub his tummy. Naturally with Dewey, simply asking for it wasn’t enough.

He whined leaning against you and pathetically rubbing the sides of his gut.

"Aww, does my bear's tummy hurt?"

He nodded, whimpering up at you.

"Alright, darling." You patted your lap.

Dewey lay across your thighs so that his stomach was in perfect reach. He rested his head on the arm rest, wincing in exaggerated pain.

“And the Oscar goes to Dewey Finn!” You said with a clear smirk in your voice.

Dewey whined. “Have a heart, babe!” He winced. “Ooooooh. . . too much sugar.” He slid his hands down his middle pushing his sweatpants off his lower stomach. Something caught in your throat, but you swallowed and kept your cool. You pulled up his shirt, and began giving gentle scritches over the surface of his belly. A goofy grin spread across his face, and he let out a happy whiney growl. The sound made your lips curl into a smile, and a ticklish warmth spread across your face. You flattened your hand against his stomach, adding a little pressure, and rubbing in a circular motion. Your other hand went to his head, pining for the softness of his messy hair. Your fingers ran through his soft, bouncy, tangled locks. Dewey’s grin widened even more, he closed his eyes and pressed his head into your hand.

“There’s my happy Rockstar.”

“Three and a half more inches.” Billy groaned exasperated.

“Wait, what?” Dewey looked incredulously down at the young stylist who was currently holding measuring tape around his middle. “What do you mean!?”

“I mean you’ve added three and a half more inches to your waistline since I last measured you.” Billy sighed, rolling up the tape. Dewey shuddered feeling it slide uncomfortably around him.

“I’m going to have to let out your costume shorts again.”

“But that’s impossible!” Dewey countered, not really believing it truly was. Still he was extremely embarrassed, it certainly wasn’t the news he wanted to hear; especially not so close to a performance. He gave a quick glance around the room, suddenly feeling nervous about any of the kids noticing. He quickly pulled down his shirt and sweater vest. The vest stopped shorter than it should have. That’s when the realization hit: he’d been in denial about this for weeks. His clothes had been fitting him a bit tighter lately, especially his pants. Just last week he’d broken the zipper on a pair of his jeans while trying to get them on. He’d just shrugged it off blaming the washing machine for causing them to shrink.

“With your diet?” Billy huffed. “I’m not surprised. There’s a reason your winter costume is bigger than your spring one. Now I’m gonna have to let that one out, and we’ve not even passed Thanksgiving yet!”

Dewey’s stomach felt even heavier. He was aware his weight tended to fluctuate between seasons though he always stayed fairly chubby. The fact that he was already bigger than he was last year bothered him greatly.

“Would it kill you to control yourself for once? I mean you eat like a-”

“ALRIGHT, Billy!” Dewey interrupted. “Just . . . go do what you gotta do, okay?”

The sassy little preteen turned on his heel and walked off muttering more complaints to himself, leaving Dewey propped up against the desk, brushing his hair back off of his forehead.

“Mr. Finn?”

Dewey’s mind jolted.

“Oh God, of course it’s her.” He looked up to see Summer, and immediately prepared himself for more scolding.

“What is it, Summer?” He sighed.

“For what it’s worth, I think you look fine.” She seemed. . . worried? It was a pleasant surprise, but it was hard for him to take anything genuinely at the moment. He raised a brow.

“You’re not still trying to earn gold stars are you?”

“No, I gave that up forever ago. But it happens doesn’t it? Especially in new marriages. You’re settling down with your wife. It’s okay.”

“I guess.” Dewey hopped up onto the desk, wincing when it creaked. It always had, but with the awareness of his weight gain, it just made him feel worse. He huffed, trying to push it from his mind.

“I mean I can’t blame you for being embarrassed or self conscious. The way the media constantly shoves unattainable body types in our faces is disgusting and suffocating.”

“Summer, this really isn’t helping.” Dewey grumbled.

“I was fat before I got married.” He thought. He looked down at himself, staring at his stomach. It was filling out his sweater vest more, and looked rounder. He thought back to those little feeding sessions. Those weren’t there before you two were married, not that he didn’t gorge himself on occasion when he was single, but with you it was different. It made him feel warm, loved, and giddy. Maybe that was the reason he was getting so lost in eating, that, and you baked some really good stuff. He pressed his hand to his belly, gently rubbing his thumb up and down the area just below his ribs, trying to mentally accept that he’d let himself go. He heaved a sigh feeling his gut push his hand forward.

“Yep, I have a problem. Damned comfort food.” Then a thought struck suddenly that horrified him: Had you noticed? Surely from all the cuddling and how much you’d rub his tummy when he’d had a bit of an ache from. . . maybe overindulging a little, you would have seen and felt him getting bigger. Was that becoming a problem for you? Why hadn’t you said anything about it? Was it because you didn’t want to hurt his feelings? Was he becoming less attractive to you? Were you silently hoping he’d lose weight? Would you leave him?

He began to feel light headed.

“Mr. Finn!” Summer grabbed his collar, forcing him to look at her. He stared at her wide-eyed, panting hard.

“Breathe, Mr. Finn. It’s alright, just breathe.”

Dewey caught his breath. “What. . .happened?” The words clumsily spilled out of him in a breathy stutter.

“You started having a panic attack, I think.” Summer explained.

The music coach looked around at his students, who were all staring back at him.

“Oh great. Pull yourself together, dumbass!” He hopped off the desk, and steadied himself; still a bit dizzy.

“I’m gonna go get some water. Then we can start rehearsal.”

“Are you sure you’re alright, Mr. Finn?” Tamika asked.

“Yeah, you’ve always been fat, why is it such a big deal now?” Freddie added. Summer swiftly jabbed Freddie’s ribs with her elbow. “Ow!”

Dewey took a deep breath. He shut his eyes and exhaled quietly.

“ALRIGHT!” He clapped his hands together. “Let’s get to work! Seriously guys, we've got a gig in two weeks! Zack, you’ve got our last song?”

“Right here!” His young guitarist called out holding up a stack of papers. “I made copies during study hall, so there should be enough for everyone.”

“Alright! You came prepared! I like it!” Dewey finally grinned. “Now pass those out! Everyone, get in rock positions. We gotta learn this fast if we want to perform it for this next show!”

The students scrambled to their places, Freddie behind the drums, Katie to the guitar rack, Lawrence to the keyboard, and Zach jogged across the room handing out lyrics and sheet music. Summer handed Dewey a water bottle, determined to make sure he took care of himself after hyperventilating just moments ago. Dewey took the water bottle, thanked Summer, and took a few good swigs. He pulled on his guitar, and took a copy of the sheet music Zack handed him, looking it over. He found himself grinning with pride.

“Zack, you are growing so much, dude.”

Zack grinned back, giving a nod and pulling his own guitar on. Rehearsal had begun. It took Dewey’s mind off things at first. He was his usual excitable self seeing the kids bringing the lyrics, music and vocals together. It wasn’t bad at all for their first time with a new song, and though they were usually quick to learn, he constantly found himself in awe of their ability. Though perhaps it was more a side effect of his pride in them. Still one can only be hit in the gut by his guitar so many times while jumping around wildly as he always did before being reminded there was more of a gut there. The rest of the rehearsal he was aware of his vest riding up, and the extra weight at his front jiggling a bit as he bounced. He stopped. Zoning in and out between his self-consciousness and the new song, he just stood still, playing and singing softly. The session was going as well as he could have hoped, and yet, he was completely unable to enjoy it.

The door to the apartment opened and Dewey shuffled in. His head hung as he moved toward the bedroom. He couldn’t even lift his face to glance up at you. He couldn’t face you now. Anxiety tingled through him at the feeling of your eyes on him. He was too flustered to notice that your face bore an expression of concern. Somehow, just knowing you were watching him made him feel absolutely massive, making him more eager to get out of your sight as soon as possible.

“Dewey?” He heard you call to his back, but he didn’t answer. He quickened his step down the hall to the bedroom.

He tossed his messenger back to the floor, and began to undress wanting to get into looser, more comfortable clothing. He unbuttoned his pants, and sighed with relief despite feeling his stomach bouncing forward. He rubbed the area where they had been digging into his sides, wincing at the angry red marks that lined waist. He sighed. He pulled off his sweater vest and dropped it on the floor. He stepped out of his pants, and began unbuttoning his shirt. That’s when he caught himself in the full body mirror on the right side of the bed.

He frowned, and walked closer, pulling his shirt off his shoulders and letting it slide down to the floor behind him. He stopped in front of it, now seeing his reflection in just socks and boxers. For the first time in a while, he really paid attention to his stomach. He had always been fairly self-conscious about his weight, having been made fun of all his life for being the “fat kid.” Eventually he’d learned to brush it off, to joke along, and even embrace it. It seemed with you, he’d forgotten to look at himself with disdain altogether.

He raised his hands to the underside of his belly, and lifted his stomach a little. He grimaced. His chest and shoulders felt heavy, and an increasing flow of disappointment that made his head swim. He let out a sigh. Maybe he hadn’t really gotten over his insecurities after all. He breathed in, heaving his chest outward, and pressing his stomach inward with his hands. That only looked more awkward, and it wasn’t helping. He let go, exhaling quickly, this time watching his stomach bounce forward.

“God, I really am massive. . ."

He looked back to the mirror, and turned to the side to see from that angle. That was even worse. He could now clearly see those three and a half inches. . . maybe more? He pinched at his middle, looking back down.

“damn it. . .”

Familiar intrusive thoughts came pouring in; memories of being made fun of on the playground, how poorly he performed in gym, his father claiming he was too spoiled, that he’d grow up to be fat and lazy and never amount to anything, being told he didn’t have the body to be a rock idol, that someone sexier would be more successful. His band members in ‘No Vacancy’ telling him he shouldn’t wear the open leather vests and tight pants they did because he would “scare the chicks away.” Patty’s occasional critical comments. How he’d given up on anything other than the one night stands he did manage to score because who would want to be seen dating him. Girls wanted someone handsome.

Dewey felt his throat tighten, and his eyes sting, but he swallowed the pain; after all swallowing was what he was good at, right? He huffed in frustration blinking the welling tears out of his eyes, and tore up the blankets from your bed, throwing himself under them. He shut his eyes tightly trying to fall asleep so he didn’t have to keep thinking about it. He’d become so engrossed in his self-loathing that he didn’t realize you had poked your head into the room just moments before he got into bed.

“Dewey?” You tried.

He whined, but not the cute childish way he had before. It sounded more like a frustrated growl.

“Are you alright?” you asked.

“I’m fine.” He sighed. “I’m just tired.”

“Did rehearsal go okay?”

“Yeah, it was fine.”

“Did you overdo it?”

Dewey nearly snorted sarcastically. Oh yeah. He definitely had.

“Probably. . .” He answered.

“Alright, then. I’ll let you rest a while. What would you like for dinner?”

“I’m not hungry.” He groaned.

“Maybe for later then?” You offered worriedly. “We can eat a little late, I don’t mind.”

“I’m not hungry.” He insisted. “I’m tired, babe. It's been a long day and I just want to be left alone.”

“Are you not feeling well?”

“I’m fine . . .” He was growing more and more irritated, feeling pressured by your presence.

“Can I get you anything?”

“I’m fine!” He snapped. “I’m just tired! I’m not hungry! I’m not going to be hungry later! I want to be left alone! Now, get out!”

His regret was instantaneous. He could hear the pause that followed. It was silent, yet deafening. He knew then and there that he upset you, and it only made him hate himself even more.

“A-alright baby. I-I’m sorry. I’ll let you be.” Your broken, shakey response shattered him. Part of him wanted to jump up, and apologize; to hug you and wipe the tears he knew you were quietly crying away. A whole new wave of disappointment came, when he couldn’t bring himself to do that. He stayed lying in bed listening to your footsteps and hitched breaths recede back down the hall.

He lay in the same spot for hours, unable to sleep. His stomach growled, his head had started aching, and he was scared to get up and check on you for fear of finding out you'd left him. Even if you hadn't, the idea of disappointing you in more ways than one kept him still as stone. Being fat and mean definitely wasn’t attractive. He moved his hands back down to his stomach, pinching the fat into his hands.

“God, I've gotten huge. . . She definitely knows.”

He closed his eyes and exhaled.

“It's only a matter of time before she leaves me. . . I don't see how she can stay happy married to a fat slob who is only getting fatter. Dad was right. . .”

He wasn’t able to mentally insult himself again long before he felt the covers move over him. He jumped, looking up to see you getting into bed. He froze in the dark feeling your body moving closer. He could hear your arms sliding their way over to him. He panicked and turned away from you.

“Dewey?” You whimpered.

“Crap!” He didn’t want to upset you again. “Think of something, you idiot.”

“I’m sorry, babe. You were right earlier, I’m not feeling too good. I don’t wanna get you sick too.”

His stomach growled, and he winced. You were definitely going to know he was lying now. Yet to his surprise, you sat at his back. You cooed softly.

“Awww, baby. Is your stomach upset?” You reached to touch him, but he curled in on himself, crossing his arms over his belly.

“Yeah.” He groaned weakly.

“Do you need a bucket?”

“Nah, I’m . . . close enough to the bathroom, I think.” He answered, knowing there was nothing in him to throw up.

“Do you need some water or ginger ale?”

Dewey thought for a moment. He didn’t want you getting suspicious. He didn’t think either would hurt him since neither were actual medicine. Still, whether it was rational or not, he was afraid the fizzy bubbles of the ginger ale might upset his stomach even more, so he went with the safer option.

“Water please.” He whimpered.

“Of course, baby.”

Unfortunately for Dewey, water doesn’t do all that much for an empty stomach.

Having spent the entire night awake with a constantly grumbling and aching stomach, Dewey felt so much worse the next morning. His head was throbbing, and he had no energy. He felt sensitive to everything, and quite irritable. He refused breakfast, despite the loud growling from his stomach. He was sluggish, but not in his usual way. He was quiet, he seemed anxious, and he wouldn’t look at you.

By now you knew whatever was going on with him was not nausea. You'd seen him with a stomach bug. This was different. He wasn't eating, but not for fear of throwing up. You grew even more worried after he called off rehearsal for that afternoon. It was unlike him to cancel any rehearsals so close to a gig. He was quiet and sat hunched up on the couch, occasionally whining and squirming. He usually lay lazily splayed out in all his glory. And good lord did he have glory. Something was up, you hesitated to anger him, aware of his sensitivity, but the fact that he was avoiding you made you anxious.

“Dewey, baby, I know something’s bothering you. You know you can talk to me. Please, what is it baby?”

He jumped at the sound of your voice. He tensed up, looking more nervous. . . no terrified. “Nothing! I’m fine!” You could feel the discomfort, as if some part of him was writhing beneath your gaze, not wanting to be seen.

“Dewey, you’re not yourself. It’s scaring me.”

“I told you I’m fine!” He growled. “There is nothing to be scared of. I just want some time to myself! I don’t understand why that’s so much to ask!”

“If there is nothing to be scared of then why are you hiding from me!?” You growled. You’d had enough of this rude tone.

“I’m not hiding-”

“YOU WON’T EVEN LOOK AT ME!”

“CAUSE I DON’T WANT YOU TO LOOK AT ME!”

Your tearful eyes widened. He looked at you in just as much shock, clear that he’d given away more than he meant to.

“What? Wh-” Your voice broke. “Why don’t you want me to look at you?”

Dewey hung his head shamefully. “I-I”ve. . . “

You sat down beside him. “What is it, Baby?”

“I’ve . . . I’ve gotten fatter.”

The flow of your tears down your cheeks stopped, halted by your utter confusion.

“Huh?”

Dewey sighed. “Billy, uh . . . measured me for my winter costume fitting. I’ve got three and a half more inches on my waistline.”

“W-wait, s-so you don’t want me to look at you because you gained a little weight?”

He looked up at you, pained. “A little? Babe, this is more than a little! What if I’m getting too big? What if I get too fat? What if it becomes too much for you?”

“Dewey, if it bothered me I would tell you, out of concern for your health. This little bit of extra tummy is nothing to get all worked up about.” You cupped his cheeks rubbing your thumbs back and forth across his hair peppered skin. You gave him a gentle smile.

"Baby, it happens. . . If I'm to be completely honest with you. I've gained a little since we got married too."

Dewey scoffed. "Yeah, very little if any at all, you still look perfect. Meanwhile I'm over here blowing up!"

"Dewey-"

He sat back and gestured to his middle. "Babe, look at me, I'm huge!"

"Baby-"

"It's only a matter of time before I start breaking chairs or struggle to fit through doors."

"Dewey Finn!"

He turned to you, lips trembling. "I-I don't want you to leave me." The top halves of his eyes begin reflecting just above his lower eyelids as tears start welling up. Your hands returned to his face.

"Baby, how shallow do you think I am?"

Dewey looked at you, unable to speak without breaking. All he could muster was a whimper.

“And what good would starving yourself have done? You know as well as I do how dangerous that is. Did you really think I wouldn't notice you weren't eating? How long did you think you could have actually made this last?”

“I-I. . . uh. . .”

"I love you Dewey. Every part of you. I love your big brown eyes, your messy hair, your smile, your plump little lips, the scruff on your face, your voice, your laugh. I love laying my head on your chest and hearing your heartbeat. I love the way the calluses on the fingertips of your left hand feel against my skin. And you know what else?"

You put your hands on his belly. "That includes this too. I love your tummy, I think it's cute. I have a bit of a thing for it specifically. I like that it's soft, and squishy. I love laying my head on it like a pillow. Weird as it is, I sometimes like the weird noises makes.

I love your body, bear. It's sexy to me. I like that you're a bit chubby. It's a lot nicer to be held by someone softer than it is to be held by someone super skinny or muscular. And nothing makes me happier, or feel more safe and comfortable than when I'm held by you.

So no. I don't mind that you've gained weight. In fact, part of me is thrilled about it.”

You gave his lower belly a squeeze. It felt like dough in your hands. He squirmed suddenly, and let out a squeak of surprise. Your eyes met his wide ones. You eased your grasp on him, moving your hands back up to his cheeks.

“Still if you want to lose weight I'll support you in that too. I love you regardless, Dewey. So please, stop doing this to yourself."

Dewey stared at you a moment with tired, pitiful, watery eyes, his hands fidgeting. His face crumpled, he sobbed and hugged you tightly to himself, burying his face in your shoulder.

"I'm sorry." He whimpered.

"Don't be. . . I understand, baby. I've been hard on myself too. But, hey we're married now. You gaining weight just means I'm doing a good job of taking care of you. And I love taking good care of my man."

You patted his stomach playfully, getting a soft hum from him. He lifted his head to look at you. Through his puffy tear stained cheeks a blush started to form.

"You really mean all that?" He asked.

"I do. I love you, and your tummy too." You answered, patting the sides of his belly and rubbing them a little, ending with a playful squish at his love handles that made him giggle and blush deeper.

"And speaking of your tummy it has been growling like an angry bear since late last night, so I think it's time I continue 'taking care of you.'"

As if on cue, his stomach grumbled loudly making him wince a little.

"Mmm. . . yeah." He agreed rubbing it himself now. "I could really use some food."

He looked up at you with his big brown puppy dog eyes and whined. "Soooo hungry."

You chuckled and kissed him. “Stay right here, baby. I'll make you a nice big dinner. Course you'll have to start out eating slowly. We want you to keep it down."

He stood to follow you, still a bit timid.

"You sure you don't need help?" He asked as you gently pushed him back over to the couch, patting his butt flirtatiously.

"Mm-mm. You're going to rest."

He looked back at you and attempted to smirk, trying to hide his obvious blush. "Okay. Alright. I'm sitting."

Dewey almost couldn't contain himself with the smells pouring in from the kitchen. The scent of his favorites made his stomach growl even more. He poked his head into the kitchen.

“Need a taste tester, babe?"

You glanced up at him and smirked, putting a hand on your hip. "Will you get back to the couch?"

"I can’t help it! I'm hungry and the smell isn't helping." he sighed with pleasure. "This is torture."

"No darling, you wouldn't be rewarded at the end of torture." You chuckled.

Dewey let out a dramatic defeated groan heading back to the couch grumbling.

Luckily for him though, it wasn't long before you were sitting in his lap feeding him. You paced him carefully, so as not to upset his stomach, but it was like a damn had broken. You fed him that first bite, and he became ravenous from then on. You gave his face and neck little kisses to encourage him.

“God this is perfect!” He moaned barely intelligible through a full mouth. You ran the fingers of your freehand through his hair, grinning.

“You said the same thing last time I made you a meatball sub.”

Dewey swallowed. “Yeah, but it's even more perfect this time.”

“That might have something to do with how hungry you are. When did you eat last?”

Dewey hummed, drumming his fingers on his stomach as he thought.

“Breakfast yesterday?”

“Dewey!”

“I couldn't eat! I. . .I was too nervous.”

“What about lunch?”

“Hm?”

“Don't you have lunch before music coaching?”

“. . . I slept pretty late. Breakfast kinda was lunch.”

You nodded. “Yeah that sounds about right.”

“Hey!”

You giggled, setting the last bit of the sub in his mouth. He looked up at you skeptically as he chewed and swallowed.

“Are you sure you're okay with. . . this?” He asked anxiously. You slid your hand under his shirt rubbing side to side over his middle.

“I promise I am, bear.” You kissed his cheek once more. “Still hungry?”

“A bit.”

“I made a second one and some brownies for dessert. Do you think you can handle it?”

Dewey gave you a cocky grin. “Oh I can handle it no problem.” He punctuated the statement with a couple pats on his tummy.

Dewey let out a belch that ended in a moan. He leaned back against the couch, and sighed slowly with each exhale. His hand moved slowly up and down his belly, pausing when a hiccup escaped him. He suddenly felt another pair of hands push down his sweatpants and lift his stomach over them. He sighed with relief, and looked up at you with lazy eyes and a drunken smile.

He felt warm and drowsy, heavy and silly. His half lidded eyes followed as you knelt down in front of him. You kissed the soft area just above his navel and somehow that area seemed to grow warmer. His face certainly did. You slid your hands under either side of his lower stomach and gently gripped the flesh which in turn, made him grip the couch. He groaned with pleasure. Another hiccup jostled his middle against your hands. It was an uncomfortable jerk, but you seemed to know exactly where to massage him to alleviate the tension.

He relaxed again, bathing in the warmth and affection.

“Do you feel good, baby?” He heard you ask from somewhere far away.

“Mmmmmhmmmmm. . .” He managed. He patted the upper part of his belly and smiled deliriously.

“Good.” You stood and leaned down to kiss him. He lifted his head, and returned the kiss to the best of his ability until a hiccup broke it. He froze and looked at you. You giggled softly and nuzzled his nose, he couldn't help but join you, chuckling carefully.

You sat at his side, snuggling up to him. You resumed rubbing his belly in a circular motion. He purred.

“Mmmm. My wife takes good . . . hic . . . good care of me.” He gave you a big dorky smile and wrapped an arm around you.

“That's right, Rockstar.” Your head came to rest on his shoulder. “That's right.”

As good as he felt right now, in his heavily food drunk state, nothing prepared him for the way you kissed his belly, determined to leave hickies on every inch of that soft flesh the moment his back hit the bed. He moaned loudly, whining happily. His head swam, he gripped the sheets white knuckled. He was beginning to learn just how much you loved his belly with every bruise and featherlight touch of your lips. You kneaded his middle like the dough you baked with.

“OH GOD! BABE!” He cried in ecstasy.

#dewey finn #alex brightman #school of rock #school of rock broadway #school of rock bway #school of rock musical #tummy kink #stuffing #feeding kink

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atimeofyourlife · 11 months

Text

Whumptober day 24

The first time Steve was left home alone over night, he was just 7 years old. His mother had argued against it, wanting to leave him with a babysitter or the Hagans, or with family. But his father put his foot down.

"Really, Elizabeth, he's got to learn how to take care of himself. He can't have people running around after him his whole life." Richard Harrington replied. "And it's not like we're going away forever. It's just one night."

Elizabeth agreed, leaving Steve alone for the night.

Steve was unsure about being left alone. On one hand it meant that he didn't have to listen to anyone, he could choose what to eat, what to watch, when to go to bed. But on the other hand, it meant that he was going to be alone. He enjoyed himself for most of the afternoon after his parents had left, being able to play with his toys how he wanted to, not only being allowed two at a time and having to tidy up after himself as he played. When it came to dinnertime, though, he felt lost. He could just reach the stove, but he didn't know how to operate it properly, and didn't want to risk getting hurt or causing a fire. So he decided on just making a basic peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Something easy and quick that he had made before for an after school snack or for lunch if there was no one else home.

His next fear came at bedtime. He'd got into his pajamas and brushed his teeth, but as he climbed into bed he realized that no one was going to come to tuck him in. No one was there to tell him a bedtime story, no one would be there to comfort him if he woke up with a bad dream. He curled up tight under his blanket, cuddling his teddy close to his chest. He slipped his thumb into his mouth in an attempt to calm himself enough to drift off to sleep.

He woke up the next morning, feeling barely rested. It had taken him a long time to get to sleep, the slightest movements and sounds startling him awake. He eventually made his way downstairs, still in his pajamas, for a breakfast of cereal. He then dragged a chair into the kitchen so he could wash the dishes without splashing too much water over himself and the floor.

He made sure everything was clean and tidy, and just waited for his parents to get home. They'd told him that they'd be home just after lunchtime, maybe a little later if the traffic was bad. And that there would be something special for dinner if he'd been good. He only had a small snack for his lunch, not wanting to spoil his appetite before dinner. He played with some of his quieter toys, keeping the mess to a minimum so he would be ready as soon as his parents got home.

As the time ticked by, he started to get a little worried. Had they forgotten about him? Or maybe they'd been hurt? He was growing hungry, and it was starting to get dark outside so he knew that it would be bedtime soon. He decided to make himself another peanut and jelly sandwich, because he couldn't take the hunger much longer. He was nearly finished eating when the front door finally opened. He watched his parents walk in, neither of them seeming to notice him at first, too caught up in their own conversation. His mother looked around as the chair scraped on the floor as Steve stood up.

"Steven, why aren't you in bed yet? It's past your bedtime." His mother scolded him.

"I. I'm sorry." Steve replied, ducking his head. "I just wanted to stay up to see you."

"You've seen us. Now put your plate in the kitchen and go to bed." His father replied, his tone cold.

"Oh. Okay. Goodnight." Steve hurried into the kitchen to put his plate on the side, then went upstairs, not looking at his parents. Once in bed, he waited for someone to come to tuck him in, but it got later and later, and the sounds in the house died down, and neither of his parents bothered.

By the time Steve was nine, his parents were regularly away for at least one night, often two or three, so he'd had to learn to care for himself. How to get himself up and ready for school in the morning, how to cook himself dinner in the evening. Cooking was a task that came with a number of injuries as he taught himself how to handle the kitchen. Little cuts on his hands from where knives had slipped when he hadn't known how to grip them properly when chopping up food before cooking, burns on his hands and arms from catching them against hot pans, or from spitting oil or splashing boiling water. So he had to teach himself first aid to care for the injuries he gained. And his parents never noticed the injuries, how many band aids Steve had on by the time they got home. If he told them that he'd hurt himself while trying to cook they would just tell him that he had to be more careful next time.

Steve was ten the first time he had to take care of himself while he was sick. He woke up with a fever and a nasty cough, and a constant sick feeling. He looked for a phone number, hoping they'd left hotel information, but he couldn't find it anywhere. He tried calling their secretary, but she wouldn't tell him how he could contact them, instead just saying that she would let the school know that he would be absent for the day. After several close calls of barely making it to the bathroom when the coughs got too harsh and his stomach rebelled too much, he decided to hunker down on his bathroom floor. He dragged in a couple of blankets to make the floor feel a little more comfortable, and had a bottle of water and a pack of crackers to see him through. He was ready to ride it out until he felt better, the bathroom floor being the only place he could think of that wouldn't need too much clean up.

When he was eleven, Steve had to teach himself how to do laundry and figure out how to get groceries on his bike, as his parents would be away for increasing amounts of time, a week, even two at a time. He started doing his own laundry after a teacher commented about him wearing dirty, slightly rumpled clothes to school. He made up a quick lie about the washer being broken, claiming that it would be fixed soon. Knowing if he admitted that his parents weren't there, he would get in more trouble.

Learning to use the washer was something of an adventure. He separated everything as best as he could, the way he'd seen his mother do. The first time he did laundry, he used too much detergent, causing bubbles to overflow onto the floor. It took some time to clean it up, but the floor was sparkling by the time he had finished. He ran the load of laundry again, this time without any detergent to get rid of the rest of the bubbles still clinging to the clothes. Once it was done, he hung everything to dry, not wanting to risk using the dryer wrong. But he was pretty proud of himself for managing to not wreck anything, or have any color run during the wash. His second load wasn't quite as successful, a navy sock getting caught up with his whites. His white socks, underpants, and undershirts all came out with a slight blue tint. It didn't bother him too much, because it was stuff that wouldn't really be seen. He was just worried that his mom would be mad at him for it, the way she had been mad at his father for leaving something red in the pocket of a white dress shirt, causing the whole load to come out pink. He hoped that nothing would be too wrinkled, because he didn't want to have to use the iron.

Trying to get groceries on his bike was interesting. The milk had gone off, and he'd run out of bread, sandwich meat, and cereal, and there were still several days before his parents would be home. They hadn't left any money for him to spend on food, so he had to use what he had left of his allowance. He biked to Bradley's Best Buy, making sure he had the baskets secure on the front and back. He was careful when picking up items in the store, not wanting to go over his allowance. At the checkout, he realized that it would take pretty much all the money he had, only leaving a few pennies. He carefully packed it onto his bike, not wanting to weigh his bike down too much, before cycling home. He knew it would be much more difficult if he had to get more groceries than the small amount he'd picked up.

When his parents came home, his mother made a comment about there being a lot of milk left.

"The milk went bad, so I had to go and buy more. I had to get some other stuff as well, like bread and sandwich meat. It used up nearly all my allowance." Steve explained, hoping she would say that she would pay him back.

"Oh, okay." She responded, no mention of the fact that Steve had had to use his own money to pay for groceries for the house, and no offer of reimbursing him.

This happened several more times, them going away for over a week, and Steve needing to buy groceries while they weren't home, always having to use his own money. Until one time he ran out of milk and sugar, and didn't have any money to go to buy some. He managed to survive without it for the few days until his parents came home. Swapping his breakfast of cereal for the toaster waffles he was only supposed to eat on Saturdays. He was scared of how his parents would react, that they would be angry at him, even though it wasn't his fault.

"Why is there no milk left?" His mother asked as she looked through the fridge, about to make his father a coffee.

"I ran out." Steve replied.

"Then why didn't you replace it, you stupid boy?" His father added.

"Because I didn't have any money. I keep having to spend my allowance on food for the house because there isn't enough when you go away, and you never give me the money for it." Steve said, and regretting his words instantly, knowing how much his father hated it when he talked back.

"Don't talk back to me like that." His father backhanded him across the face.

"I'm sorry." Steve mumbled, staring at his feet.

It did change his parents' actions when they went away. They knew if they didn't make sure he always had enough food, that it would start to look suspicious. So they started leaving him small amounts of money, alongside a list of groceries they expected to be in the house when they returned. Every penny of the money had to be accounted for, with receipts showing exactly what he'd spent, and anything left over being returned to his parents.

By the time Steve hit his early teens, his parents were gone more often than not. But even when they were home, it never felt like they were present. Neither of them bothering to show any love, or care, or attention to him. Only responding to anything he'd done if they weren't happy with him. Looking for any excuse to berate or punish him. When his parents were home he spent most of his time either hiding in his room, or at Tommy's or Carol's. But that almost made him feel worse. Seeing how loved they were by their parents. How they always had someone to come home to, someone to care for them when they were sick. Someone to cry to when they were scared. Someone to help them when they were stuck with something, or if they got in trouble.

Steve just wanted what his friends had, parents who loved them unconditionally. He could never understand what he'd done to deserve the disinterest and the neglect that he'd gotten from his parents his entire life.

#whumptober2023 #no.24 #neglect #stranger things #fic #steve harrington #steve harrington whump #steve harrington has bad parents #atimeofyourwrites

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cacticassie · 1 year

Note

oooooooh you wanna talk about ur headcanons sooo bad

(srsly tho i'd love to see :3)

rubs my evil little hands together

Thank you kindly for the ask. I finally have an excuse to infodump about headcanons hehehehehe

You didn't specify who for, soooo I'm gonna go for 3 star fam + Cassie for this

Gregory Bowman

14 (at the time of RUIN, 12 during GGY)

Venezuelan

The most GNC kid you've ever seen, but people confuse him for a girl sometimes. He isn't super happy about that (he's ftm). Also, he's bi

Autistic

He gets overwhelmed with crowds, bright lights and strong smells (especially as patient 46. The Mimic made his autism stronger /hj)

He also gets migraines when the Mimic/Dr. Rabbit is messing with his mind.

He has a special interest in coding! He wanted to make video games when he was a little younger

Doesn't like to let his emotions get to him. He tries to push forward through them no matter what.

He tries to act tough to spite his small stature, and got into fights in school often because of it

Vanessa does his hair now. He likes it the way it is, so doesn't ask her to change it. He has let Cassie style it for fun before

His hair was hacked at with a pocket knife to keep it short while he was Dr. Rabbit. It looked far worse in GGY era than SB era.

Since hanging out with Cassie, he's been putting makeup on regularly. It's only black eyeliner and nail polish, though

He's always drawing or doodling. He finds it relieves stress if he doesn't overthink it (which, like all artists, he sometimes does)

Gets a lot of graphic nightmares about what the Mimic did while in his mind. Before recovering his memory, he thought they were just that– nightmares.

He's seriously scared of the dark, to the point he hallucinates things moving in it

Used to own every piece of Freddy merch there was, until he ran away from home

He came from a fairly rich family. Not super rich, but rich enough to own a big house. It was mainly his relatives and his dad that had the money, while his mom was simply an indie writer

His parents threw money at him sometimes, and once he'd met Tony it'd gone straight to him a number of times

Was homeless for a few months, living on the streets and spending many nights at Cassie's. Eventually he started staying at the Pizzaplex. His memories of where and when are muddled.

Sees Vanessa as an older sister figure, Cassie a younger sister, and Freddy as parental (but don't tell any of them that)

One of his front teeth is missing because it was knocked it out while someone fought him back as Dr. Rabbit.

He's part of the 1% that actually likes sodaroni.

Vanessa A.

Lesbian

Loved cooking, reading and gaming before the Glitchtrap stuff happened. She's slowly gotten back into it after taking Gregory in, but doesn't play games very often anymore unless it's with him.

She's really awkward with people she doesn't know very well. And, despite trying her best, she often ends up freaking people out with some insanely obscure dark fact she knows, usually about Fazbear Entertainment's past.

Remembers everything from when she was Vanny, but it is slightly fuzzy

She pushed away all her friends and family when she was Vanny, and has yet to reconnect out of worry of something going wrong and them ending up hurt. She has considered sending Gregory to be with them in the past.

Her grandmother passed not long before she was Vanny, and the two were particularly close. She'd taken the house and had not been able to live in it until she was freed.

She used to be louder, but now she tends to be quiet and reserved. Some of her old personality shines through when she's with Gregory, when she teases him like an older sibling would

She's paranoid and overthinks things. She's scared Fazbear Entertainment will come knocking for Freddy, or that the Mimic will find out where they are through the internet, or a variety of irrational fears

Has a large scar on her waist from stray machinery in the sinkhole

Hasn't told Gregory about what the Mimic truly is, nor what it did to him, hoping to protect him.

Since Gregory can't remember much of his life from before, Vanessa promises she'll help him remember-- but she's grateful for some of the things he doesn't.

Freddy Fazbear

He charges overnight in the basement with a contraption Gregory came up with using an old car battery. The battery lasts 12 hours before needing a recharge.

He has been accidentally left in a room alone by Gregory and Vanessa before, who forget sometimes that he's just a head now

On occasion the trio go on picnics to quiet places where they can be alone, and on these occasions Freddy gets to see the world– he's very excited about seeing new things outside of the plex!

He can now connect to the internet, and was able to download all of the Pizzaplex's blueprints this way. He can also now be used as a projector.

Since his Faz-wrench port was on his body, Gregory fitted a USB port to Freddy's head; it's janky, but it works long enough to transfer a few files.

Gregory has asked about Bonnie, although Freddy doesn't talk about him much. He mostly fondly recalls memories before getting upset and not wanting to speak more.

He's often the one to stop the sibling-ish arguments between Vanessa and Gregory

He doesn't know it, but Gregory's been researching how to build small animatronics for a few months so he can build Freddy a new body as a surprise. He… Hasn't gotten very far, yet

He still sings on occasion, but finds it brings him memories of his friends, which (similarly to Bonnie) he doesn't like to think about too much.

He feels incredibly guilty for what happened to all of his friends. He doesn't blame Gregory in the slightest, but does wish he'd taken a different approach.

Cassie Reyes

14 (at the time of RUIN, her birthday was that very day)

Dominican

AuDHD

Trans + bi, like Gregory! But is mtf

Loves video games and would play them with Gregory all the time. She tended to prefer cosier games, while he liked RPGs– they played Minecraft together often, which kept them both satisfied.

Super emotional, considers herself a crybaby. She tries to hide it behind a sassy, sometimes bossy exterior

She imagines alternate situations a lot and pretends things are different than they really are. She can't cope with change or loss very easily.

When she wants to do something, she will do anything to achieve her goal + won't rest until she does. She overworks herself and thinks too much about things she shouldn't

Her mom died when she was 6. It's been just her and her dad since then

Her dad recently (as of RUIN) left for some reason, he didn't say– only leaving money and a note. She might drive herself crazy looking for him in future.

She's the weird kid in class. She doesn't have any real friends and gets bullied for being into 'childish things'.

The wolf kid. The very reason she prefers Roxy over the others.

Her second favorite character is Chica! Although she likes all the characters a lot. She also remembers liking Bonnie before he disappeared-- even her dad couldn't tell her what happened.

She watches cartoons and writes essays or fics about them in her spare time

While Gregory was homeless and visiting her, on the colder days, she'd let him in for movies and hot cocoa and they'd make a blanket fort. Sometimes Gregory would spend these nights falling asleep on Cassie, watching her play animal crossing or stardew valley

She won both the Roxy and Freddy talky for her and Gregory at the Pizzaplex during her birthday. Gregory would sometimes come within range while she was at home just to walkie something incredibly stupid or annoying, before getting out of range too fast for Cassie's complaints to be heard

She hates sodaroni and feels nauseous every time Gregory drinks it right in front of her like it's nothing.

#My sillies #If you wanna see more hcs just ask!!#This is only the tip of the iceberg for these three #And I haven't even gotten into the other characters.....#Also ALL of this is canon to Aftermath!! Sometimes my hcs differ between fics jshdjbd #There are hints to plot points in this lmao #fnaf #fnaf security breach #fnaf ruin #gregory #Vanessa #Cassie #glamrock freddy #Headcanons #GGY

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lip-rings-and-quiffs · 1 year

Text

Been a While | L.H

Luke + f!reader

Warnings : not much. Luke is initially depressed but it’s not very graphic so it’s not really angst. Fluffy. A bit over 4k words.(i think. I have no idea). Pls excuse my horrible writing lmao (also I’m rusty)

Summary : Whilst trying to get away from his life for a couple hours Luke Hemmings has an encounter with someone who would soon become very important in his life. Aka I’m bad at summaries

+masterlist| reblogs are highly appreciated!

Luke had been feeling down lately. He had been struggling with his mental health, and he didn't know how to deal with it. He had been going through the motions, doing what he needed to do, but he didn't really feel alive. He felt like he was just…existing. Without a purpose. Like his mere presence didn’t matter.

One day, Luke decided to go to a coffee shop to get away from everything for a while. He needed to be alone. Away from everyone. He ordered his usual, a plain black coffee, and sat down at a table in the corner. He was scrolling through his phone when he heard a small voice say, "Excuse me, is this seat taken?"

"No, it's not," he said, gesturing to the chair across from him.

The girl sat down and introduced herself as Y/N Y/L/N. She was kind and friendly, and Luke found himself opening up to her in a way he hadn't with anyone else.

They talked for hours, about everything and anything. Y/N was a ray of sunshine in Luke's grey world. She made him laugh and smile, and for the first time in a long time, he felt happy.

As they were leaving the coffee shop, Y/N said, "Hey, would you like to go out with me sometime? Maybe we could grab dinner or something?"

Luke felt his heart race at the thought of spending more time with her. "Yeah, I'd like that," he said, smiling. They exchanged numbers, and Luke couldn't wait to see her again.

Over the next few weeks, Luke and Y/N went on several dates. They went to restaurants, parks, and museums. They talked about their hopes and dreams, their fears and insecurities. Luke found himself opening up to her more and more, and he felt like she understood him in a way that no one else did.

Y/N was patient with him when he wasn't feeling well, and she always knew how to make him feel better. She brought him small gifts, like his favorite candy or a new book to read. She was always there for him, no matter what.

And Luke was never one to read. Especially not books like these. Sometimes he read science articles on his phone but never books about vampires and werewolves made most likely for teens! But if you were to walk by his house on a Saturday evening you would be met with the sight of the lanky man sitting by the window, book in hand. And boy did he look invested.

One day, when they were out on a walk, Luke said, "Y/N, I need to tell you something. I've been struggling with depression for a while now. It's been really hard, but you've been the one bright spot in my life. You make me feel happy, even when everything else seems bleak."

Y/N took his hand and squeezed it. "Luke, I'm so sorry you've been going through this. But I'm here for you, okay? Whenever you need someone to talk to or just to sit with, I'll be here."

Luke felt a weight lift off his shoulders. He had been holding this secret in for so long, and he was afraid to talk to anybody about it, but it felt good to finally tell someone.

As they continued their walk, Luke felt lighter and happier than he had in a long time. He knew that he still had a lot of work to do to get better, but he also knew that he had Y/N by his side, and that made all the difference.

Over the next few months, Luke started to feel like himself again. He was still struggling with depression, but he had Y/N to help him through it. She was his rock, his light in the darkness.

One day, Luke decided to do something special for Y/N. He knew how much she loved flowers, so he went to a florist and picked out a bouquet of her favorite flowers. He wrote a note that said, "Thank you for being my sunshine” with his signature smiley face on it. Luke had a spare key to Y/N’s apartment.

As he was finishing putting the flowers in a vase, Y/N walked inside, finding the giraffe of a man towering over a table. “Lukey, what are you doing here?”

He smiled, nodding his head towards the flowers. With a confused look she turned to look at her favorite flowers staring back up at her from the table. She couldn’t help the dopey grin that adorned her face as she squealed in joy. “Thank you! They’re my favorite” she said whilst reading his note. “Aww Lu, this is so nice!”

Luke walked towards the table, towering over her. “I have something to say” he looks down at her. She nodded looking up at him.

“I uh well, I umm. I’ve realized that it’s been a while since I’ve been happy. And I’ve healed a lot since that day I met you at that coffee shop. That day, that day was the day my life completely changed. And that’s because of you. You are the reason I’m happy. You’re the reason why I wanted to try again. And these few months have been better, so much better than the last couple of years and I’ve been thinking. I umm, first of all thank you for always being here for me and second of all, Would you like to be my girlfriend and make it official? It’s ok if you say no-” “-Yes!” She exclaimed pulling him down to her face.

“Didn’t even let me finish” he teased, raking his arms around her waist. “You were gonna start to ramble” she fired back, diving into give him a quick kiss on the corner of his lips. “True” he grinned, eyes closed as her thumb ran across his stubble covered jaw.

A/N: Thank you for reading<3 also pls gimme feedback.

Reblogs are highly appreciated!^.^

+masterlist

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chilly-me-softly · 2 years

Note

yess dad mason series!!! you can write sth similar to the first one but without the bad dream. Maybe mason’s daughter meets the team in his house and have an evening all together 🥺

It hadn't taken them long to arrange something, one message and then another and another, and the evening at Mason's house was planned. The boy had ordered takeaway considering the number of people who would soon be populating his house. He enjoys cooking but he certainly wasn't going to waste time and energy on a bunch of men who were going to make a mess of his space.

The doorbell rings not long afterwards signalling the arrival of the first guest and as always Alice runs to the door and waits for him there, almost rushing him. Mason is still trying to make her understand that she cannot open the door if he or someone else he trusts is not around. For hours one day they've been forcing her poor grandpa to go outside and ring the doorbell for some sort of behavior practice, Mason's apprehensive side not letting a single hypothetical escape him.

"Okay go" he murmured to the little girl, who walked up to the door almost touching it with her nose.

"Who is it?"

"Ben"

"Uncle Ben!" and then she jumps on the spot excitedly to reach for the doorknob and Mason smiles behind her helping her to open the door and allow the boy to finally come in.

"Hey you! How's my beautiful girl?" he asks taking her in his arms and complying with the girl's implied request.

"Fine" the two set off familiar with the place, leaving Mason to close the door and to wonder if he hadn't suddenly become invisible.

Soon Reece, Ruben and Kai also make their entrance, having the little girl's attention for a few minutes. Too busy with whatever she is doing with Ben to pay attention to other people.

"You've just been on holiday together, it's only normal she wants to be with you" Reece is fighting at yet another failed attempt to engage the little girl in something other than his teammate.

"Guys, don't fight - Mason takes over to calm the other children, picking up his daughter and bringing her onto his lap - I'm sure this little one here can entertain everyone, can't you Alice?"

"No" she replies dryly, making Ben laugh, Mason not hiding a smile. And everyone is saved by the doorbell.

Alice wriggles out of her father's grasp and runs to the door, opening it and forgetting everything he had recommended or done a short time before. He can never drop his attention since she started walking.

Kepa is at the door, they were waiting for him, knowing he would be a little later. Alice searches for Mason with her gaze by stepping back a bit, clinging to his leg, suddenly feeling intimidated.

"Hola mariposa. This is for you" he hands her a packet by leaning towards her and all the awkwardness she had up to that moment suddenly is like gone.

"What do we tell Kepa?" Mason nudges her as the little girl has already taken a corner off that paper, curious to see what's inside.

"Thank you" she murmurs focused, not even looking up from the package.

"You didn't have to" Mason addresses his friend now, who smiles, shaking his head. "Just a little something"

"Colours!" Alice gasps drawing their attention to her and the smile on the boy's face widens knowing he has made her happy. She then runs into the large living room where her drawing station is located so she can try them on right away.

"They are special colours. They don't write on table, skin or walls"

"Oh it's perfect" Mason is left picking up the paper from the floor as the newcomer greets the rest of the boys.

The evening continues in full blast, the boys in full sync wasting no time in finding who to mock or topics to talk about. Alice is the one who gets the most attention, taking advantage of having not only her father to play with for once, trying a few games with a few people.

"I want to colour" she and Kepa are playing with a ball, he sits with his back against the couch and tosses it to her not far away, who promptly tosses it back. And he's talking to Mason about something else when the little one comes up to him and tells him about the change of scenery by letting herself go against him.

He wraps his hands around her hips protectively, "Go and get your colours then" he doesn't even have time to put her feet back on the ground that she has already run to her table taking the small box given to him earlier and a book with some drawings.

"What do you want to colour?" Kepa asks her after she sits cross-legged on the floor and starts flipping through that pages full of scribbled pictures.

"This one"

"Oh a ballena, good choice"

"What's a lena?" Alice looked at him curiously, tilting her head slightly to the side.

"Oh it's a... whale, yeah I think that's what it's called"

"Lena - she smiles again mispronouncing the spanish word, causing a big grin to appear on the keeper's face - blue cause it's in the water" and she certainly wastes no time in scribbling that too with the colour she just chose.

No one wants to admit it, but by the time Alice finally falls asleep in Mason's arms, everyone is exhausted. Perhaps more than a day's training. But they are surely rewarded, happy to have spent time with her and with no desire to stop being part of the little one's growth.

Little Mounty

#mason mount #mason mount one shot #mason mount imagine #mason mount imagines #kepa arrizabalaga #ben chilwell #football imagine #football imagines #little mounty

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tu-sugar-mami · 2 years

Text

It has always been you: #7

You can read part 6 here

Less than 2k words

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Angie's shrill yells can be heard all over the house, and Donna knows she doesn't have much time. Sure, her heart is shattered and the tears won't stop pouring from her eyes, but you're safe and that's all she can ask for.

The man is coming after her, and for what she's seen, he's unstoppable. The quest to find his daughter has driven him insane and he has no mercy for anyone. How dare he try and 'save' his family when he destroyed hers? Not only by forcing her to push you away, but… Donna has called her sister, or at least tried to. No one answered the phone at Castle Dimitrescu, and she doesn't want to admit it out loud but knows that the call they had a day ago, where Alcina let her know the man broke into her home, was the last one.

Donna wants nothing more than to let the man take the flask and leave, but Mother Miranda's orders were clear, either Donna is done for by the hands of one Ethan Winters or by Miranda herself. She knew her power wouldn't be enough to deter the man, to protect you, and so she did what she thought was best; send you away.

It pains her. Those last days had been turbulent between you, and she wishes things had been different, but even with Miranda's gift she can't change the past.

When Miranda called, right after you woke up, she was told that the man was on his way to the Beneviento Estate and would be there any moment. Donna knew she had to rush and find a way to get you to safety. She didn't mean to shatter what little of the friendship you shared still remained, but if it was the only way…. She just hoped you'd find a way to be happy with your mysterious beloved.

The image of your poor state was fresh in Donna's mind. Her suspicions were confirmed when she tended to your unconscious form and found under your shirt those dreaded bloodied bandages. The two clean cuts in your back underneath the rags were worrying, and the stitches had barely resisted the effort your body made. You had gotten the surgery from the book, that much was clear, though there is something that still doesn't quite make sense to Donna.

According to the book, the only way to get rid of this… illness, was to have your love requited or going through a surgery to remove the vines from the lungs. It said that after the second option, the victim would forget the loved one and everything related to them, so why were you still suffering? She can't find a way to explain why you were still coughing and why you were still loving them. Donna assumes that yours was a special case or you found a loophole and found a way to not remove the plants completely. Either way, that doesn't make her feel better.

Donna is… well, devastated is a light word, utterly destroyed would be a better term. Oh how she wished, yearned, to have you love her with that passion and willingness. To her, you were so brave, though mostly stubborn, even going as far as to try and force yourself to keep those feelings when they were killing you… wouldn't it be easier to forget them altogether?

It had been on a late afternoon when she realized she loved you. The sun was setting and darkness was slowly overtaking the clear skies, letting it take a gorgeous pastel pink and orange color. Donna wasn't sure how, but you ended up laying on her lap and reading out loud (you've taken to do that a lot lately) for her on the cushioned swing in the front porch. She was content, listening to you and raking her fingers through your hair and enjoying the breeze. It took her a minute to realize you had stopped reading, but the reason why just left her heart beating faster. Even through her veil, you were looking at her with so much adoration and softness in your eyes. The soft smile in your lips melted her from the inside with the warmth it radiated.

Donna didn't know it, but her hand playing with your hair emboldened you, and so you dared to ask the question that had been bouncing around in your mind.

"Donna, do you believe in destiny?"

Such innocent question had caught her by surprise, but she was curious where that came from.

"Why do you ask, darling?" Her hand resumed the soft petting.

"It's– well… sometimes i think all of this is too perfect for it to be just luck." You grabbed her hand in yours, tracing circles with your thumb on her knuckles. "I'm really happy i met you, Donna." And then you laid a shy peck where your thumb was stroking before continuing your reading.

Those words and the gentle kiss turned her into a blushing mess. The way the last rays of sun painted your skin a golden color had her completely captivated. Your lips, smiling even when you kept reading, made it impossible for her to look away. You looked so comfortable there in her lap, as if you never had a worry in your life. She couldn't believe someone as wonderful as you could ever enjoy the company of someone like her. She couldn't believe you trusted her, trusted the monster, enough to feel comfortable in her presence and even let your guard down around her. She couldn't believe that you cared for her enough to consider your encounter 'luck'.

Oh how she fooled herself. She let herself fall into a trap with no end. Of course it could never be her the one who wins your heart, right? But oh how she yearned. She craved your tender touch, your caring smiles and comforting hugs… she knew she was being selfish, but then again, never in her life she had something to call hers, never completely. She never had something or someone she could keep, not her family, not her sister –well, sisters, poor Claudia had been so young–, not her humanity, not her happiness. The universe was an unfair force, and a bold one at that, because everything that Donna once held dear it had dared to snatch it from her. So yeah, for once, she wanted to be selfish and keep you with her, and if not you at least the memories and the recent feeling of your lips against hers shall suffice.

"Donna!" Angie's voice reaches her ears once again, and Donna is shaken to her core. She doesn't hesitate when grabbing a nearby pair of scissors and going in search of her beloved doll…

Meanwhile you… well, your body aches and your sight is blurry. Just how lucky you are.

You...remember her.

The realization hits you.

Despite all you remember…

When you opened your eyes, laying down on Chips' bed with every muscle in your body throbbing in pain and once again covered in bandages, your eyes started leaking. They took the flowers out of you, even though they promised not to. Chips' had performed the surgery, and by the lack of needing to cough you suspected it was the permanent one this time.

Why were you crying? Because you still remember her. Because relief washed over you as soon as your brain registered the information, that despite the lack of flowers in your system the image of Donna, the scent of her perfume, her gorgeous face was still clear in your mind when you woke up.

The book was wrong! It was wrong and you can still remember her, still love her!

Oh how you wished to go back to Donna and apologize for everything. You wanted nothing more than to hold her hands and kiss her palm and hold it against your cheek.

Chips will be mad that you stained their pillows with your tears, but by Talos you are happy, if maybe just a little annoyed that all of the pain had been unnecessary.

"I wouldn't stand up just yet."

Speaking of the devil.

"Chips, i don't like you right now." You slump on your belly again, not even trying to argue. The morning light coming through the window makes your head hurt.

"It was necessary. You were going to die." They sit on a chair next to the bed.

"I had it under control." You grunt, burying your face in the pillow.

"Under control mangos!"

"Gah!"

The slap on your unsuspecting buttcheeks caughts you unguarded and it stings, but then again, it's Chips we're talking about, did you really not expect it?

"You're so stubborn! How can you be so– agh! Stupid!" They stand and start pacing. "Don't even get me started! What you did was reckless and idiotic! You pull a stunt like that again and your ass is not the only thing that's gonna suffer!"

"I'm so-"

"Sure you are!" They sigh. Their face looks tired, and you know they must have been awake all night patching you up. "I'm…" a sigh. "I'm glad you're okay."

"Thanks for helping me Chips, i owe you. Again." You turn your body and lay on your side, having a better look at your friend. "Have you rested yet?"

Chips averts their gaze, almost ashamed, before sighing yet again.

"I was up… thinking." They say.

"Did it hurt?"

You earn a flick on your forehead.

"Oof!"

"I have to apologise." Their expression turning serious and it worries you. "Not to you, but your woman." Okay that's a new one…

"What for…?" You squint suspiciously.

They reach for the drawer next to them and bring out a small silver box with gorgeous carvings and decorations. What catches your attention though, is the lid and the familiar crest that rests there.

"I needed to get your clothes and found this in your bag, you should– you need to see it." As soon as the box is in your hands they stand and leave the room, wordlessly.

There's a note attached to the side of it, and you hurry to open it.

The letter read:

I'm so sorry for the things that might have happened by the time you read this. I wish it doesn't come to be, but i need to do anything that guarantees you'll stay away. I know you won't leave if i didn't do it that way. Many things have happened since you first left, and my siblings and i have been dealing with something out of my control. I won't be able to protect you so I need you to leave to keep you safe. Please do not return, ever. I hope you can forgive me.

Always yours, Donna.

Your hands are shaking when you hold the box in your hands, and when you finally dare to open it, a sweet melody sets the pace for the two white porcelain ducks spinning inside the music box.

You can feel your eyes prickling and pooling with unshed tears.

She remembered…

Donna, your beloved Lady remembered.

"Oh Donna. I'm so, so sorry…"

___________

If you love my work, would you like to buy me a coffee?

_____________

@pnkvenom

#re8 #donna beneviento #my fic #donna beneviento x reader #donna x reader #donna beneviento angst #it has always been you fic

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partyexe · 1 year

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HEYY I JUST WATCHED THE EPISODE THAT YOUR JAME THINGY IS FROM HEJDHD, its one of my favourites!! how about you whats your favourite episode(s) (im assuming you've watched them all? i havent if you haven't either so dont worry)

oh yes i have!!! im a bit rusty bc the last time i watched an ep was around this time last year but again the whole series is kind of ingrained into my head so

ok heres the list

1. classroom (s2e22)

i just love this one so much because it reminds me of an experience i’d have in elementary. the plot is that a test is supposed to take a place but there are technical difficulties that melanie and jim spend the whole episode fussing over, meanwhile there are a bunch of seperate plots going on inside the classroom between the kids and their little antics they’re going through despite being ordered to sit still until everything is sorted out, which of course they don’t do. in the end melanie is just like oh whatever lets just take the day off. and she joins in hanging out with the kids

2. belsons backpack (s2e36)

AAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHDHDHHDEHRHDHDSJDJDDDUDIDKDKKDK. THIS ONE IS SOOOO. Ok SO what happens is belson and clarence accidentally switch bags and clarence finds this comic belsons been making out of pages of some sort of zoology book about dolphins, with the main protagonist named bodhi. of course clarence confronts belson about it and he’s like Omg i didnt know you liked comics!!! I love this so much you should make more!!! with his gay ass and belson of course denies any connection. but instead of it ending there, he keeps making them and secretly giving them to clarence. i dont remember exactly what happens to initiate the next events but it ends in clarence coming to belsons house and helping him through writers block and spoilers belson literally cries. over how sweet clarence is. head in hands

3. lil buddy (s1e41)

loooots of people don’t like this one at all but it’s so special to me. they dont like it because it’s “ugly and creepy” but like honestly? as an autistic it resonates with me so much with how i used to feel as a kid if something i liked / relied on was taken away from me. i used to have a ton of meltdowns and panic attacks over the smallest things so seeing clarence go through the same thing in this episode. AUGH just ive cried several times watching this ep its so touching and its so sweet at the end. Please Watch It !!!! im not even describing what actually happens throughout it bc i want anyone who hasn’t seen it to watch it as spoiler free as possible (you might remember seeing those memes about clarence shaving his head and wearing a black hoodie, this is what that’s from)

4. rise and shine (s1e12)

another one that i like just bc its so cozy. the whole premise is clarence wakes up early like at 4 or 5 am i think, and we see his whole little morning routine that involves trashing the house and then cleaning it up again all before mary and chad wake up. it does have a plot like with this mountain lion that made its way into his backyard but i dont care that much abt that part tbh. again it’s mostly the feeling of the episode

5. the entire stormy sleepover saga (s3e5-10)

not even gonna say anything about this one for two reasons. one is spoilers and two is because id be here until 11 am (it is 5 am) if i did so. just know it is the best thing to come out of the whole series Ever and it is the closest thing to clarence being serialised there is.

6. balance (s1e50)

speaking of serialised stuff in this show!!! this one comes directly after the episode “in dreams” where jeremy, a kid clarence meets in his dreams and does everything he can to make clarence stay asleep and play with him, makes his debut. ok i know based off that description jimmy sounds like some kinda villain but he’s sweet and just wants a friend ok. there is not a single Bad Guy in clarence and if you disagree you are wrong. but yeah the episode balance is where balance, who i kid you not looks like a clarence x belson fan kid, shows up first. basically throughout the episode he causes a bunch of problems for clarence and belson but appears as a goody two shoes to the rest of the school, at the end even hypnotising the staff momentarily, before he gets sprayed with a hose and gets thrown back into his little clown car with similar versions of jeff, sumo and belson in there with him. just a really bizarre episode that has some cool lore stuff

and finally number 7 is video store (s3e35)

this one is so good its crazy. it has no direction or planned plot, it is literally just the voice actors messing around in the studio acting as the main three in a video store, trying to find the perfect movie to watch that they can all agree on and have never seen, while making the store clerk’s life hell. it is definitely one of the funniest episodes i can tell you that confidently

#THABK U FOR THE ASK <3 #clarence #clarence cn #odiespeak

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444jiya · 2 years

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nightmare ~

"what did you mean to do then? because all you've done is fuck everything up for everyone!"

"i-"

"you're not a talented hero! you're not clever or strong or special enough to make choices like this! you're lucky you didn't get someone killed!" tony bellowed despite peter only being a few steps away from him.

"i just thought-" peter tried to talk, but kept getting interrupted.

"no! you never think, peter! you just want to seem like a god-send saviour! when you are not - you are a fucking child. a child!" tony's degrading words cut into peter's mind and infected it with poisonous venom.

"i'm so sorry, mr stark! please, don't take my suit away! i promise i won't go after the vulture or anyone else ever again without you!" the fifteen year old pleaded.

never did he think that going after the vulture, getting a building dropped on him and just about capturing him would get him reprimanded by tony. he thought tony would give him a little 'that's wrong' talk, but not a whole yelling plus a punishment!

"no. you're never going after anyone ever again. i'll make sure of that."

peter's eyes widened. "no.. no, mr stark! you can't!"

"i can! and i will. peter when will you understand? rules are there for a reason," he sighed. "you're off the avenger team. AND i'm taking your suit off you." tony said, seemingly enjoying hurting peter with his harsh choice of words.

the fifteen year old was now on the verge of tears. "please, i swear, i never ever wanted to go against you mr stark. i'm never gonna do anything that you don't want me to do again!"

peter shot up out of bed. his breathing was irregular as he tried to get up out of bed to wash his face. he wanted mr stark. no, needed mr stark. he wanted him to tell peter that it was all okay and it was just a bad dream - just a little nightmare and that he really did want him.

peter didn't know what he'd do if tony didn't want him anymore. he didn't want to be some broken doll just thrown out because he didn't have any value anymore.

slowly, he got up and walked out of his aunt's house at 3 in the morning. he wanted mr stark. he walked all the way down to the tower, despite being in only his pj's, which got him a lot of odd stares. thank god for the heavy rain or else people would've recognised him.

in half an hour he made it when he realised he had forgotten his security id. hoping friday would let him in, he walked in and to the receptionist.

"kid? what the hell are you doing here drenched and at 3 in the morning?" the receptionist asked.

"i want mr stark please."

"no can do unless you got id that permits you to go in."

"friday can recognise me." he stated back.

"friday? identify this boy."

"name, peter benjamin parker, age 15, tony stark's personal intern." friday replied in her monotone voice.

"oh, very well, go through." she let him. he gave a quick nod before going up in the elevator to the penthouse. hoping mr stark would be there.

just to his luck, tony was there on one of the bar stools drinking a piping hot cup of coffee. unusually, he never realised the set of smaller footsteps walking up behind him. "mr stark?"

"what..?" tony squinted his eyes to see the mystery guy in the dark. soon, he saw the very vague outline of a teenager - around fifteen. and there'd only be one kid here at the tower at this time - peter. "peter?"

"mr stark..." the brunette's bottom lip quivered as mr stark used a remote to switch on the dim light.

there mr stark was taken aback by how messed up this kid looked. it was three in the morning, peter's hair was the worst it had ever been, his eyes red and puffy and all teary; his pajamas all crumpled and soaked, and his whole face flushed the same colour as a ripe tomato.

"peter, god what happened?" tony questioned cautiously as he got up to hug peter.

"i- i just had this nightmare, and i was scared you hated me, i'm so sorry but i just needed to see you to make sure you didn't hate me," peter said without taking a break to breathe.

tony sighed sadly knowing how hard it must be on a fifteen year old to carry the whole weight of trying to save the world and bring peace and joy into it. he ruffled peter's hair lovingly and invited him to stay the night. even superheroes needed breaks sometimes.

#writing #authors #reading #writers on tumblr #angst #creative writing #fanfiction #fanfic #peterparker #spiderman #irondad and spiderson #ironman #ironheart #familyfluff #nightmares

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nicoline1998enilocin · 1 year

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Hi, and welcome to my Tony Stark Masterlist. It is nice to welcome you to my little corner of Tumblr! 🤍

On this Masterlist, you'll find all the one-shots, series, alternate universes, and requests that include fluff, smut, and angst, but each story will have its own appropriate warnings. If you'd like to check out who else I write for, you can check my Main Masterlist!

I do not work with a tag list. If you want to be kept up to date when I post new stories, you can follow @nicoline1998enilocin-library! 🤍

Stony || Coming Soon

Stuckony || Coming Soon

WinterIron || Masterlist

All graphics are made by @nicoline1998enilocin

|| 🥀 ~ Angst || 🤍 ~ Fluff || 🌶️ ~ Smut ||

A relaxing night at home || 🥀 🤍 🌶️ You've been going through a bit of a rough patch lately and Tony's caught on, so he wants to do everything in his power to make sure you have a nice, relaxing evening at home. This way you won't have to think about work or any other worries for even a second. He will of course join you, because he could use one of those nights himself, too.

Swinging together || 🤍 You have always dreamt of having a porch swing on your porch, and now that you and Tony are moving into your new house, this is the perfect opportunity. He will do everything he can to build it before your baby boy arrives and make your little family complete.

Love by the fire || 🤍 🌶️ Tony has taken you for a weekend away to a small cabin in the woods where it'll be just you two, and no one around for miles to interrupt either of you. The weather outside is cold, but the atmosphere inside the cabin is almost reaching its boiling point as you two can't keep your hands off each other.

I'll always be by your side || 🥀 🤍 What was supposed to be a comfortable, easy Sunday turned into one of the worst as you're caught off guard by your period and in horrible pain. Luckily, your boyfriend, Tony, is by your side the entire time to make you feel better and spoil you absolutely rotten.

Spiked candy || 🤍 🌶️ You've had a crush on Tony for as long as you can remember, but you didn't know he also has one on you. During his annual Halloween party, he makes a move using a project he's been working on for a long time, and they have precisely the desired effect because you couldn't be happier the morning after. Your dream of being his might finally come true after all.

Together forever || 🥀 🤍 🌶️ You and Tony have been head over heels in love with one another for as long as you can remember. It isn't until someone is getting injured and nearly loses their life that your feelings come out, and both of you wish you would have shared your feelings sooner, especially after seeing how fragile a human life is.

His innocent assistant || 🌶️ || Part 2 || 🤍 🌶️ [ Part 1 ] Tony's feeling a little needy, and he can't resist asking his sweet, innocent lab assistant for help. You don't like seeing your boss in discomfort, so you're more than happy to help.

[ Part 2 ] Tony enjoys taking you to his parties as his date since he loves to show off his sweet, innocent assistant to everyone willing to hear about you. This time, however, the party doesn't go entirely to plan as he finds you flirting with none other than the God of Mischief himself, and jealousy takes over his entire being.

Everything I ever wanted || 🤍 🌶️ During your pregnancy, Tony couldn't keep his hands off you, and neither of you could get enough of each other. Now that your twin boys are born, he wants nothing more than to have you pregnant with his babies again, and he'll let you know exactly how he's planning on doing that.

Special assignment || 🌶️ You've had a crush on your professor since the first day you followed his classes, but little did you know you didn't precisely escape his mind either. When he asks you to go to his office for a 'special assignment,' you instantly get excited, looking forward to being alone with him.

Mine || 🤍 🌶️ You've been Tony's PA for many years, and you have both developed feelings for one another over time. When Tony sees you in a beautiful red dress he can't take his eyes off you, and feelings are confessed later that same night. When you spend your first time together it is filled with raw passion, but you wouldn't change it for the world as you're with him.

Mile High Club || 🤍 🌶️ You and Tony have been in a secret relationship for the past seven months, and you're being sent on the first mission for just the two of you since you've become an Avenger. Seeing how the two of you will have nothing but time during the long flight to the other side of the world, he wants nothing more than to make you a part of the Mile High Club.

Warm welcome || 🤍 🌶️ It promises to be a beautiful night at home with your cat and a rom-com playing on the television when you're surprised by your fiancé, Tony. What was supposed to be a three-week mission turned into a two-week one and a surprise welcome, which you're very grateful for.

Love at first sight || 🤍 🌶️ Howard and Maria Stark, the current reigning king and queen, are planning on retiring, but they aren't able to until the heir to the throne is married. Their only son, Tony, feels like it isn't the right time for him to get married, nor does he have anyone he would even think about marrying in the first place. This all changes when you walk into his life and turn his entire plan for the future upside down.

Lovers Garden || 🤍 🌶️ After years of dreaming about starting your life in Italy, the day has finally arrived for your dream to come true. After the exhilarating process of renovating your dream house and turning it into your sanctuary and the anticipation of all your belongings being shipped to the other side of the world, it's time for you to leave New York behind and start your new life with your husband, two-year-old son and the little one on the way.

Discovering Our Love || 🥀 🤍 🌶️ When Tony throws a party after an extended, challenging mission to celebrate its success, you and the other Avengers get wrapped up in a game of truth or dare, which turns out to be the start of the most fantastic love story you’ve ever witnessed: you and Tony. When you’ve gone without warning the next day, Tony can’t help but get distracted every time he thinks about you, the thought of you and your first kiss still fresh in his mind.

Bare It All || 🤍 🌶️

Healing Hearts || 🥀 🤍 🌶️ || Coming Soon

His Innocent Assistant || 🥀 🤍 🌶️ || Coming Soon

"Marry me" || 🥀 🤍 🌶️

The Power Of Love || 🥀 🤍 🌶️ || Coming Soon

Don't Go Baking My Heart || Baker!Tony Stark || 🥀 🤍 🌶️

Lips Like Sugar || Sugar Daddy!Tony Stark || 🥀 🤍 🌶️

The Love Of My Life || Young!Tony Stark || 🥀 🤍 🌶️

Tony Stark x Fem!Reader x Son!OC

Tony Stark and his hair-pulling kink

Baby, it's cold outside || 🌶️ You've just gotten married to the love of your life, and are currently on your honeymoon in one of the most beautiful countries of the world. The scenery you're looking over is absolutely breathtaking, but your husband is doing everything he can to take that breath away in all different kinds of ways. And of course, there will also be lots of snuggles in front of the big fireplace too.

Touched for the very first time || 🌶️ You and Tony have been going steady for a while, and you're finally ready to take the next step in your relationship. Tony wants to make sure your first time will be unforgettable and takes out all the stops to make you feel like the most special and beautiful woman on earth, which you will always be in his eyes.

Nice and round for me || 🌶️ || Part 2 || 🤍 🌶️ [ Part 1 ] You and Tony are enjoying your honeymoon in Switzerland, and you had a little more to drink this particular night than usual. You still can't keep your hands off one another, but when the night gets more heated, a specific kink of Tony's comes to light, and you can't help but indulge him in his biggest fantasy.

[ Part 2 ] The two of you are absolutely in love with each other and your amazing twin boys. The two of them are like angels sent straight from heaven, and now Tony can't wait to make more kids with you. Especially now that he wants a few that are exact copies of you, after having boys that are his carbon copy.

Making a new friend || 🤍 You've been dropping hints about adding a little feline friend to your family for a long time, but when it seems Tony doesn't pick up on your hints, you drop the subject altogether. That is until he suddenly shows up with a little ginger cat, just like the one you have told him about all this time.

Like a King || 🥀 🤍 🌶️ Your husband had a bad day at work, so you decide to treat him like an absolute king. From a nice home cooked meal to a warm bath and a massage, you're pulling out all the stops to make him feel loved and to turn his day around completely.

Falling in love again || 🤍 🌶️ You've been living abroad for almost a decade, and when you find yourself back in New York, you also find yourself in touch with the man you thought you had said goodbye to forever all those years ago. When the flame reignites, the two of you never let go again and finally live the life you have always dreamt of.

Perfect picnic || 🤍 You've been seeing the one and only Tony Stark for the last few months, and you're not ready for the world to know that, so you're enjoying every minute of peace and quiet you two have together. When he invites you for a picnic to discuss something important, you can't help but think about your future together.

Talk dirty to me || 🤍 🌶️ You have been asked to interview and shadow Tony for a few months regarding his research in nanotechnology and his life as Iron Man. During this time, the sexual tension builds quickly between you two, and when you can't stop staring at him while he's working, the tension snaps, and you learn about a new kink you never knew you had.

Never grow up || 🤍 Your beautiful son came home a few hours ago, and now you witness Tony having a sweet moment with him, making your heart beat faster and filling with love like never before.

I can hear you || 🌶️ After a rather intimate moment in the kitchen with Tony, you go to your room to take the edge off for yourself. When he happens to walk by and hear you moan out his name, he can't help himself as he walks in, wanting to give you the pleasure you're so desperately craving from him.

A drunk mind speaks a sober heart || 🤍 🔥 You and Tony have been mutually pining for months, and he finally reveals his feelings during a party—albeit after a few too many drinks. The next day, you go out to confront Tony about it, and what happens next is better than you could have ever dreamed.

Reflection || 🤍 🌶️ The sexual tension between you and Tony has been steadily rising for the past few months. After the latest victory tour, it's reaching an all-new height before boiling over, marking the start of a new adventure for you both.

#masterlist #tony stark #tony stark angst #tony stark fluff #tony stark smut #iron man #iron man angst #iron man fluff #iron man smut

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no-saints-around-here · 2 years

Text

A Waltz in the Dark

Yandere Yakuza Boss Izana

Masterlist

‎‎‎‎

Special thanks to @trashybandit for beta reading!

‎tw: nsfw, explicit smut/sex, torture/body mutilation, prostitution and forced prostitution, dubcon/noncon, mentions of trauma, threats of and explicit murder, stalking, molestation, rape, kidnapping, imprisonment, exhibitionism, dead dove do not eat

‎‎

Twirling a picture between two fingers on one hand, lit cigarette pinched in the other, Izana exhaled, the smoke drifting lazily out through the small crack in the window. The gentle light of the moon did little to illuminate the inside of his cell, let alone the photo he held ever so gently, yet the tanned man could hardly bring himself to care - after all, each and every picture he owned of you had long been burned into the back of his eyelids. He could see them even when he closed his eyes: your doting smile, your bright doe eyes, the loving looks you sneaked when you thought no one was looking. Izana knew them all, and you, by heart.

The prison was dead silent at this time of the night, though Izana found it hard to pinpoint when this little slice of hell ever bustled like the other parts housing the general population - the solitary isolation ward was made to quash his command over the outside world, and to punish monsters like him. But while tranquility had once been considered a rare treat, a respite from his hectic days running his yakuza empire, the quietness now hung over him like a curse that he couldn’t exorcize. The same silence he was forced to endure alone on that tortuous day you were torn away from his grip, the serenity of the solitary isolation wards only served to force Izana to replay the torment again and again when he tried to rest - a broken, wretched movie on repeat that he had no escape from.

It had always been you and him against the world. Kind, gentle, innocent you who he worshiped with his whole being, who deserved nothing but the best in return for your love, your affection. Then the onslaught of blue uniforms that broke into the sacred temple he built to protect you from the world, snatching you away from his arms like the unforgiving jaws of a saltwater crocodile. And Izana could only watch as you were forced out into a harsh reality you were never built for, while he was thrown into prison on some superficial charges based on an anonymous tip off, to the delighted howls of pretentious scum.

Only you could free him, and the man eagerly counted down every minute to when you would once again gently kiss away the eternal darkness of his nightmares.

Bringing the photo up to face level, the cool paper that met his lips were a far cry from his memories of your own sweet, soft ones - the gentle tangle of your tongue with his every night, your comforting smell that reassured him that everything was right in his world. Not to mention the hour spent before bed, enjoying the warmth of your tight walls fluttering around his cock when he was buried balls deep inside you, indulging himself in feeling every clench and pant of your body as you struggle to adjust to his size. Kissing away the hot tears that rolled freely down your cheeks while you can only breathlessly whimper and whine his name, all the while his hips rutted against yours at a furious pace. His thick, heavy dick - the first and only you've ever taken - stretching you out well with every pound, molding your insides to the shape and girth of his length.

Your name panted out in return, repeated again and again like a prayer in between incoherent grunts and his groans of 'fuck' and 'baby'. Him leaving a trail of bruises and hickies down naked shoulders, marking you as his alone while your nails raked your ownership of him into his back, before slamming himself as far into as you as he could go and spilling his hot load deep inside, your walls spazzing around him as you came with him. And then the warmth of falling asleep huddled against you, his arms wrapped tight around you with his nose pressed into your hair, your steady heartbeat easing him into a sleep as kind as you.

Free hand wandering down towards the crotch of his pants, Izana wasn’t surprised to find it already tented, bulge straining in the confines of his silk boxers (you’ll never catch him dead wearing those potato sacks they called a prison uniform) - you always had that effect on him. Pulling himself free from his pants, Izana reluctantly, reverently replaced your photo on his already cluttered table, propping the image of your smiling face up against a paper weight as he turned away to fumble through one of many drawers with one hand, the other already starting to slowly pump his straining cock, the pre-cum leaking from his sensitive tip a giveaway to his eagerness.

He was sure he had it here somewhere - ah. Pulling it free from where he had carefully stashed the delicate piece of clothing out of sight of unworthy eyes, your used white panties glowed even in the lack of light against the tan of his skin, the small pink ribbon tied neatly in the center a reminder of your cute self waiting for him beyond these concrete walls. Rubbing the sheer, lightweight fabric between his fingers, the softness of the cotton against the pad of his fingers helping to paint the scene in his mind’s eye; you pulling your panties on fresh after a shower, your hair still wet with small droplets of water clinging to the ends of various strands, your little cunt pressed firmly against the crotch of your panties. Sneaky fingers slipping under the cotton in the dead of a night much like this one when you were all alone in your room, sprawled across your bed and huddled over soft sheets - one hand slowly massaging your clit as the other slipped two fingers into your already dripping pussy, fluids leaking into the once white crotch as you bit your lips in a bid to hush the sensual whines escaping from your throat..

Fumbling to expose the inside of your underwear with one hand as his other occupied hand picked up the speed, the dribbling cum help slicked the increased pumping of his cock, which only grew more frantic as he brought the used panties to his nose, taking a deep whiff. Your intoxicating smell was just barely strong enough for him to catch despite the crotch of your panties having been clearly stained with your fluids, though Izana supposed he'll have to make do for just a while longer. A mild fragrance, the lingering sweet scent of vanilla and orange - he wondered if you still used the same brand of soap he loved, wondered if you still tasted like he remembered.

Beads of sweat built on his forehead as his shameless grunts grew louder and more frequent, the knot at the base of his dick growing tighter as his peak came closer and closer. But it was ultimately the glimpse of your innocent, bright smile that tipped him over. Unable to resist, the man wrapped the panties around his cock, the added friction from the cloth and the sheer depravity of humping a cold piece of cloth instead of sinking himself into your warm walls that finally brought him to release, white cum spurting into the already tainted cloth, coating and melding into the fabric. Slumping back into the back of his chair, Izana rode out his high, panting as he released his abused length from his harsh grip.

Yet, Izana looking back down at that picture of you once more, the cold of his single cell - no matter how comfortable and homely he tried to make it - only served to taunt him about your absence from his life, that all that was left of the years with you, to accompany him through this lonely night were just that: photos. Sighing as he dropped the thoroughly soiled panties back into its drawer, the feared man noted to himself to order his guard to bring him a ziplock; there was no way he would allow lowly foot soldiers to handle something as intimate as your underwear.

The crunch of papers scattered haphazardly across the luxurious wooden table as the man brought his elbow to rest atop the covered surface only reminded him of his limited time left trapped within the four walls of this prison, locked away from you. Trailing one tanned finger across your face, he smiled. Five long years Izana had been apart from you and the warmth of your love, but soon, soon he would be free of his constraints. Soon, you would be back with him, in his arms where you belonged.

Izana leaned over, holding the years-old picture of your immortalized bright laugh back in its spot on the wall, violet eyes squinting as he aligned the well-worn tape back exactly where he had peeled it off an hour earlier, the paper’s once-pristine edge left as a puffy tatter next to his newer, more recent photos of you. Leaning back into his chair, the man brought the smoldering cigarette to his lips again, inhaling as he took a moment to admire the large collection of photos of you in the dim moonlight, before finally clenching on the bud between his teeth and once more turning his attention to long-neglected reports. Time and tide waited for no man, and with you haunting his every thought, the white-haired man got back down to work by the low light of the waning moon; there were jobs and reports that needed his sign-off, and as much as this notorious crime lord hated the paperwork, it was a necessary evil in his eyes. All this just for you. All this for the little light of his world.

‎

You hesitated, your keys stopping short of turning in the lock of your small apartment. Something was .... off. Peering once more as best you could through clear glass windows and thin curtains, you couldn’t quite put a finger on what set off this unrest in the base of your gut - everything looked exactly as you had left it this morning.

You had assumed the weariness in your bones was just the usual tiredness from a long day of work, having to leave for work before the sunrise and only coming back after dark, it was quickly clear that that was not it. But your gut was telling you otherwise, the hairs on the nape of your neck standing straight up. Run - that was all that was pounding through your head, all you could think of as you stood frozen in front of your door, your rising heartbeat surging through your blood. Run, and don’t look back.

A quick shake of your head, and you squashed down the feelings of dread welling up from the base of your stomach as much as you could. No, it couldn’t be. Deep breaths, you reminded yourself, one hand shooting out to grab a hold of the wall and steady your swaying head. You knew exactly why you felt this way - it was front page news that Izana, the notorious and well-feared yakuza head that you called your ex, was being released from prison today, having served out his full sentence of five years behind bars, far away from you.

A ‘model inmate’, the papers screamed, the image of those empty, violet eyes staring triumphantly straight into the camera, the same ones that you once thought were filled with love and gentleness, following you from every newsstand as you tried to keep your head down on your way to work and back. You had hmmpfed at reading that; there was no doubt in your mind that he was far from “model”, or whatever the prison guards choose to term it as, seeing that the crime and brutality carried out under his orders failed to stop. They were certainly one of many in the system that must be living in his pockets, passing on his orders to the outside world, allowing Izana to continue his absolute rule over the underworld even from jail.

But there was no way Izana could have already found you, you reassured yourself, pushing the keys firmly into the lock. It had been just a few hours since his release for one, and you were now living nowhere near to his usual haunts. And for two, having closely followed any and all news even vaguely related to the yakuza and Izana’s old henchmen for the past few months leading up to today, you had determined that those operating under Izana’s command still seemed concentrated around your old neighborhood. Though, you thought to the nagging little voice in the back of your head, it was a good idea not to get too comfortable here - the six months you felt safe living in any one place was almost up, and you were keen to find somewhere even further away from him.You didn’t have much savings as eager as you were to flee the country, seeing the types of jobs you could hold, but you would start packing tonight, maybe move into a hostel or motel tomorrow. Your freedom would be well worth the reset in your bank balance.

The wind was completely still tonight, the lack of your windows rattling adding to the eeriness of the night. Everything did seem in order on your careful scan, the silence of this small neighborhood permeating the walls of your home - there was no one else here. Yet you couldn’t feel at ease even as you double locked the front door behind you, dropping your keys into the small glass dish that sat to the side on a worn wooden table - maybe it was really time to go. Having spent years isolated from the world, you never did like the tranquility that accompanied a peaceful night like this; not that you didn’t like the calmness or the peaceful, no. You just preferred the hustle and bustle of the big city, sitting as you did once a week, on a bench along a busy street for as long as your weary body allowed you to, enjoying the throngs of crowds passing you by without a second thought; a chance to blend in with everyone else and just be you. But all good things had to come to an end.

Your feet carried you around on your usual path, first to set your bag down on one of two dining chairs in the tiny kitchen, then to set the kettle on for your usual nightly cup of tea. There was a strange yet familiar smell in the air that you picked up on as you waltzed by the flight of unlit stairs - cigarette smoke, you identified - though your mind brushed it off as nothing, the sweet tickle that it caused in your nose was one that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. Probably just your annoying neighbor smoking from his bedroom window again.

And the smell only grew ever stronger much to your irritation, your nose twitching as you let out a light cough, fanning your hand in a vain attempt to dismiss the smoke. Did you forget to close your window again? You were far from done with your usual routine when you finally had enough, all but storming towards the stairs with as heavy footsteps as you could manage, making your way up towards the single, tiny bedroom you called your own. If you were any braver, you would have told that stinky man off a long time ago, but alas confrontation was never a strong suit of yours.

Yet the apprehension that had been lingering at the back of your mind only flared once more with every step you climbed, and you paused before rounding the final corner up to your room. Maybe- maybe this was a bad idea, you considered, the last remnants of any animalistic instinct you still had kept screaming at you to give up on this mad adventure of a routine. Maybe tonight was not the best time to pack. This time you listened, but it was too little too late.

"Welcome home." His wretched voice was loud and clear in the absence of any other sign of life, echoing lightly across worn painted walls. You froze instantly, one foot hovering just inches off the step where you had been prepared to step back down, your brain blanking out. No no no- it wasn’t possible. He couldn’t have found you yet - you were supposed to have time -

The slightest hint of amusement at your lack of movement laced his next question, snapping you out of your trance. “Aren’t you going to come up?”

“Coming,” you mumbled in reply out of habit, turning once more to face the taunting darkness. It was a bad time to have a ‘I told you so’ moment like your sinking gut was mocking you with now, yet you could only reluctantly continue on, climbing the remaining few steps up towards your loft bedroom, every step up a strain to take, a fight against your unwilling body. If he was already here, then there was little else that could be done for you, you numbly noting the sudden set of new footsteps that had picked up from behind you that you didn’t dare turn to acknowledge.

The stomach-turning smell of cigarette smoke, a odor you had never quite learnt to bear, only grew more overwhelming as Izana came into view slowly, rising over the edge of the last step inch by inch, a menacing portrait of a ruthless king framed against the sole large window that flanked the far wall of your bedroom. The undisputed leader of a crime syndicate so heinous that even governments feared to cross was sat comfortably cross-legged atop your bed, nestled tightly among your sheets, the same violet eyes that haunt your dreams staring blanking ahead at the muted television playing an rerun of some old show. His white hair glowing in the dim illumination, dressed in the same soft white robe he wore all those years ago, the tanned man looked almost angelic, though one would be mistaken to think there was anything innocent about him.

The bare corridor walls you had been so hesitant to decorate now failed to provide any distraction as you stepped onto the landing of your second floor. Turning to glance at you briefly as you forced yourself up onto your second floor landing, Izana’s gaze didn’t linger on you, his attention seemingly distracted by something he held in his hands.

"Where have you been?" He demanded, though the direct order was disguised under that low and soothing tone he always used with you. “You were supposed to be home an hour ago.”

“I was-” You started, before catching and stopping yourself. Why were you answering him? And how did he know that?

But it seemed that Izana wasn’t expecting an answer, as if he already knew, simply patting the bed next to where he was, the drifting smoke of his lit cigarette bud held lightly between two fingers puffing up and waltzing lazily up towards the ceiling with every movement of his hand. “Come here.”

You should have listened to your gut - you could have ran by now, even if it meant leaving everything you ever held dear behind. You could have had a head start. You could have; but it was all too late, your last chance at freedom now just another lost opportunity locked away behind the unyielding gate of the past.

Shuffling forward into the room, it quickly became clear that Izana was far from alone like you had previously hoped despite the unlikeliness, and his present company failed to make your current predicament any better. Easily recognising your former neighbor from five years ago despite the years showing clearly on his face, the kindly middle-aged man that had once asked after you on your rare appearance in the yard of your golden cage looked rather uncomfortable being squashed under the weight of the less welcomed sight of your ex’s right-hand man Kakucho sitting atop his back, gun swinging loosely from his grip. You tried not to dwell on the presence of either, the growing nausea at what you were sure awaited the poor man who had been unwillingly dragged into your mess threatening to make you hurl.

Turning your attention instead back to your former jailer, you plucked up all your remaining courage, shaking hands clenched into fists by your side. “H-how did you-”

“Find you?” Izana mused out loud, cutting you off mid-sentence, and you caught a glimpse of what he had been twirling between his fingers - was that pills? “Who do you think you’ve been renting from all these years, baby girl?”

A pause, and for a moment, the serenity of the night washed over the room, your doe eyes blankly staring at the tanned man settled on your bed. A heartbeat, and the realization washed over you like a tsunami, you deflating as your courage drained away from the punch to the gut. The four walls of your room seem to almost close in on you, the tears welling up and spilling over against your will. Your freedom, the hard-earned life you thought you built - it had all been a lie, hadn’t it? You had never been free from him.

Blank eyes swinging up to instead burn themselves into your soul, one manicured hand lifting the slab up to where you could see before tossing it at a still wordless Kakucho who caught it effortlessly, the other bringing the stick up for another puff. You hadn’t been sure that you could feel any more dread, though you were quickly proven wrong as your heart sank once more when you realized what pills he had found: the same nausea pills you had always kept on hand for the past five years, tucked away carefully at the back of your drawer where no one should have ever found it, now exposed to his all-knowing eyes. A privilege you never had, now gone forever; you knew Izana never approved of you taking any form of medication without his express permission. Yet despite your suppressed sniffling, the same that was once enough to bring whole meetings to a standstill, Izana pressed on mercilessly. “Convenient, isn’t it? Always finding the perfect place at just the right price, in the next neighborhood over?”

Stupidity. It was truly pure stupidity, and you dropped your gaze to the wooden floor. What was it that your parents drilled into you over and over - if something was too good to be true, then it was really too good to be true? In hindsight, the signs might as well have been neon in the unlit night; various articles of clothes mysteriously disappearing and reappearing wet in your basket, your landlord’s overly accommodating behavior towards any of your enquiries. Suspicious to any normal person, but you didn’t even raise an eyebrow. Maybe, you despondently concluded, maybe Izana had been right all along. You really were too stupid to be free.

From the corner of your eye, it was hard to miss your former neighbor trying to catch your attention from his prone position on the floor, wriggling his bushy eyebrows and rolling his eyes as aggressively as he could manage. The firmly wrapped duct tape and makeshift cloth gag stopped him from outright calling you like you knew he wanted to, the corners of his mouth twitching with much effort. But against the hope splattered across his face, you knew the best thing that your useless self could do for the poor soul was to turn your dismayed gaze away, avoiding his persistent signals as best you could. Carrying the heavy knowledge of what happened to those whose gaze you dare return, you knew that meeting his eyes would only make the fate that awaited him worse - the release of death would have been sweet for those unlucky souls.

But you were too slow, too obvious, Izana pickin up on the quiet commotion, arm shooting out to grab your neighbor’s face. “Thought you were clever with an anonymous tip, were you?” The yakuza head yanked his head off the ground at what looked like an extremely painful angle, a bloodthirsty smirk that sent shivers down your spine spreading across his shadowed face as his fingers dug into the other’s short hair. “Five years locked away from my love - my little light - I’ll deal with you later.”

And you could only watch on in horror as Izana brought his lit cigarette down. Playing out in slow-motion, the gray-haired portly man screaming out from behind his makeshift gag as the bud smoldered against his forehead, your own stuck in your throat as the faint smell of burnt skin mixed with smoke filled your lungs. Your guilt only grew, unable to tear your gaze away from the unmistakable burn left behind. You dragged him into this. This was no one’s fault but your own.

One hand slipped into the pocket of your coat, and you nearly jumped when the cool metal of your phone touched your heated skin - wait. You still had your phone. The device was a small reassurance pressed against your warm hand, and you chanced a glance at Kakucho, Izana busy deriving a sick pleasure from driving the bud as deep as it would go into the flesh of the crying man. The red-eyed man seemed preoccupied, staring at an unknown point on your wardrobe. Perhaps, if you could dial the police - a very slim chance that you even could get that far - but just maybe you could, the person on the other side might be inclined to help if they weren’t just another pawn of Izana’s -

"Phone."

Your grip instantly tightened around the precious device, and your hope shattered. He knew. Turning to face away from the disinterested crime lord, your attempt to not immediately give in to the heavy demand carried in his outstretched hand was a failing bid from the start. "N-no."

Kakucho’s sole functioning eye snapped to you, though he made no move to get off from his perch. And Izana’s gaze lazily drifted to meet yours, those blank eyes clearly reflecting the light of the small television screen still playing noiselessly in the background, the reporter recounting the news of his earlier release and a laundry list of alleged crimes that he was linked to.

“Phone.” He repeated firmly, the command in his voice now absolute, those violet eyes daring you to disobey. You knew this tone well - it was that same tone that he used in those meetings you were forced to attend, clothed in nothing but small, lacy lingerie in the freezing room. Feeling those lingering gazes on your almost-exposed breasts, the slimy feeling of older men raking their eyes over you while you sat on Izana’s lap like a dainty doll, with you sometimes allowed to nestle against his bare skin, hidden away inside of his robes as he dished out orders and organized unspeakable cruelty.

Yet even still, you couldn’t help but try to cling on as if it made a difference, as if the feared yakuza boss seated just a few steps away wouldn’t get everything he desired anyway. “I-I bought it myself.”

“Come now, don’t make things difficult for me, love.” A small smile pulled his lips up, and he cocked his head to the side. “What will the police do for you?”

Your gut sank. You understood - the police force that now largely belonged to him wasn't going to lift a finger for you. Never again.

“Now, will you give me your phone?”

You numbly shook your head again. Get help, your mind repeated again and again, urging you to move your fingers, to press something - you couldn’t leave him to suffer. The clink of metal emulating from Kakucho was your response, and your eyes turned at the sound, the flathead plier grasped in one hand clamped tight on one solitary fingernail, your former neighbor’s eyes completely dilated as he stared at the unfolding scene.

"Pull it." The rip of flesh, Kakucho’s arm reeling back as if pulling in a catch on a fishing rod, the pliers flying along with the arc of his hand. A brief pause, and then a screeching cry that wrenched a knife into your chest growing louder and louder as what must be horrible pain set in, and you couldn’t turn your gaze away from the ripping flesh that tore along with the unattached fingernail.

You squeezed your eyes shut.

‎

It was like tearing off a slice of pizza, Izana amusedly thought, except for the lack of cheese, violet eyes fixed on the crimson blood oozing from the lump of flesh where there once was a nail just moments ago. The lack of proper entertainment like this in solitary made it hard to pass the time, the crime lord had to admit, and even if this was far from his favorite kind, it was acceptable after such a long drought. Though he did have his favorites, activities that involved a lot more pain and suffering like flaying, they were far from suitable for delicate eyes like yours, and he settled on having to wait a while longer. Once he got you safe and settled down back where you belonged, he would have all the time in the world to enjoy himself once more, and Kisaki was sure to let him indulge a little. What was a day compared to five years after all?

Tearing his eyes away from the scum’s anguish, Izana’s gaze only softened when it instead landed on your hunched-over form at the foot of your bed, your figure still frozen in the same spot you had been in for the past ten minutes. You were shaking. Hands clutching the crook of your arms so tight your knuckles turned white, eyes squeezed as tight as you could, your legs looking barely able to support your weight for much longer, and Izana knew instantly what he was dealing with - you were shutting down in a last ditch effort to save what remained of your sanity. It wasn’t the first time you tried to run away from reality, the only escape you had, and although he understood the incoming dissociation was your mind’s way of protecting you, the last thing he wanted was for you to not be there to celebrate your reunification with him.

Letting out a sigh as he finally shook off the pile of blankets he had so carefully huddled around himself, the tanned man made the short crawl over the uncomfortably hard bed, before pulling himself up into a sitting position and swinging his legs down over the edge. You didn’t even flinch when Izana reached over to grab at your now bleeding arm and pull you into his lap, one hand gently prying free the fingers digging into your soft flesh like he had so many times before, the other stroking the top of your head, running slender fingers through your hair as he turned your face away from the gruesome scene. An unusually compassionate gesture given his usually sadistic nature, but then again, his tender side had always been reserved solely for you. "Shhh, it’s alright, don't look at him."

You had always been too fragile mentally and physically, Izana mused. Never once had any tool been lifted in your direction, used to threaten your gentle being and plump flesh, yet here you were on the edge of collapse. Too soft to survive away from his side, too kind for this dark, cruel world - you would have been eaten alive several times over by big bad wolves trying to live by yourself if something mild like this got you all shaking, if the biggest and baddest wolf hadn’t kept an eye out for you even while locked away.

Catching his eye amidst his thoughts, Kakucho threw him a questioning look, plier already firmly latched onto the next miserable nail, the man barely bothered with what now was nothing more than routine work - even if Kakucho rarely had to do the dirty work himself these days, he never had qualms about spilling blood on Izana’s orders. Izana nodded. A fresh burst of pathetic screams and sobs, ear-piercingly loud despite the makeshift gag, shook the still air, and you let out another whimper in response, the uncontrolled shaking of your body intensifying with every muffled plea for mercy. “Make it stop,” you pleaded, balling his robes into your fists, the damp patch on his chest growing larger with your uncontrollable tears. “Please stop.”

Leaning over to bring his mouth down to your ear, the hot breath that tickled the shell of your ear was a momentary relief from the shrill cries that filled the room. “It’ll stop if you give me your phone.”

He straightened. “Another one, Kakucho.”

You caved, and the phone, a sad relic of days long past yet all you could afford on your meager pay, was produced from the depths of your pocket and presented to him on one small palm.

The threatening pliers disappeared back into the shadows of Kakucho’s coat as quickly as they had appeared. “See? Good girl.” Pressing a kiss to your forehead as he claimed the offering from you, the passcode was barely an obstacle to him, Izana punching it in, squinting at the tiny, unfamiliar keypad - he knew your passcode the same day you changed it moving into this apartment. And the worry was clear in your eyes no matter how you tried to hide it as you watched slender fingers slipped through your contact pages and phone logs, rapid scrolling pausing only momentarily for him to scan through the messages you received in the past few days and mentally note down the names that persistently popped up - he’ll have time to take out the trash later.

Reaching over to pass your phone to a still wordless Kakucho, the short glance Izana had of the worm squirming away on the ground was enough to piss the yakuza head off, an unamused frown pulling his lips into a straight line: it was a disgusting and frankly pathetic sight that would have lost him his appetite. Time for him to leave. A mere cock of his head at the doorway to your bedroom for his trusted friend to understand - the black-haired man instantly stood to attention at the order, gloved hands yanking the older man up before proceeding to wrestle the waste-of-space off the ground and out the door. The movement did seem to trouble you, and you followed them for a bit with those shiny eyes, a frown pulling at your face even as your hoarse throat tried to cough up your thoughts. “He-”

“Nothing will happen to him.” Izana remarked amusedly, playfully flicking your forehead when you turned adorable watery eyes on him, both hands clutching at his robe like a lifeline. “Kakucho wouldn’t hurt him.” Without his say so, but he was sure that you knew that despite the words going unsaid.

Taking the opportunity to look at the room around him as his trusted friend dragged the lower-than-dirt out of sight, it dawned on Izana that this rundown apartment complex that he had bought over with little hesitation, this sorry building - it had actually been your home. You had lived here like a mere peasant, lowering yourself to live among the vile trash cast out from the polluted city. “How do you even live like this?” The crime lord tutted, blank eyes scanning the miserably lit room, your few personal belongings in a state of disarray, scattered haphazardly across various counters and wardrobes. But you had no answer for him, simply shrugging and shuffling your feet.

Sure, he had tasked Kakucho with finding an appropriate location to acquire, somewhere in the vicinity of where you were predicted to move to and relatively well-maintained enough with an attractive price point for you to take the bait, and this apartment in a quiet corner of town had fit the bill perfectly. Sure, Kisaki had visited to okay the apartment and oversee the minor renovations and clean-up needed to make the place liveable for you. Sure, Izana himself had personally stamped his approval for the acquisition of the entire property (so that you wouldn’t have any filthy neighbors and he could keep an eye on you of course). But nonetheless the man still felt let down by the actual state of the house - someone as delicate as you had been living in a slum like this all these years?

He lifted your hand to eye level. Where once was smooth, unmarred skin, your hands were now flawed, fingers hardened with callouses from doing menial work you were never built to do, work that your fragile body couldn’t handle despite your belief. There wasn’t much about you he didn't know despite being physically apart, much like a good partner; the meaningless job you held was a thankless one, toiling away like a slave for a meager salary, being screamed at by ungrateful bastards he would love to see skinned and dried on his rack, all just for the merest hint of freedom or whatever you called it. Was this truly being free? Was this better than being with him?

And if he hadn't been as generous as he was, sheltering you for close to nothing - Izana shuddered at the thought of you having to whore yourself out to make ends meet like the common prostitutes that plied Toman's brothels. He didn't think he would know what restraint was if anyone dared to touch what belonged to him.

Kissing the tips of your fingers did little to help with easing the pain of years of hard work he knew, though the small gesture meant so much more to Izana - no more suffering for his princess. You were really here. No matter how long it took, no matter what it cost, he would make sure your skin would never be fouled like this again. His world would be right once more with you at his side.

Yet as he ran one hand down your side, the man only found fear where he expected excitement - you flinching away from his touch, trying to ball yourself as small as you could, your face turned away from his. Hand hesitating, it came to rest at your waist, fingers playing lightly with the hem of your underwear that poked above your shorts. You were - scared? Of him?

Impossible.

"Baby girl, what have they been saying about me?" His voice was soft. Gentle, like the touch of his fingertips that he trailed down your cheeks, lifting the hot tears away from your reddening skin, before bundling you into his arms, carefully nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, your face buried in his hair. They must be lying to you about him, Izana concluded as you shivered in his arms, implanting their falsehoods into your mind and memories.

His smell, strong and familiar, was all it took to trigger the bitter memories you swore you had dealt with one painful step at a time, the past you had tried to run from surging back to the front of your mind along with the overwhelming flood of accompanying emotions. Fear, pain, despair, guilt - you lived by his whim and mercy for so many years, but caught up in the moment of indescribable feelings, you found yourself unable to do more than whimper. A fresh flood of tears, born from the wave of self-pity, left your eyes stinging, the hot of tears scorching against your reddened skin as they trailed a well-trodden path down your cheeks.

But he understood even if you failed to vocalize your thoughts. He knew - the utter humiliation he put you through, forcing you to shed any ounce of decency you as you were made to strip naked in front of wide eyes and ride his cock; the numerous torture sessions you had to sit in on that he blamed on your disobedience, that he made you listen to yet never letting you watch. The despair at having your senses stripped away from you at his whim, left completely immobilized, seeing nothing, hearing nothing for god only knows how long until he granted his mercy by way of his touch. Izana must know. “I’ve never done anything that you didn’t agree with.”

And you couldn’t find any lies - despite the trail of carnage and despair he left in his wake, the one crime Izana had never committed was lying to you. His simple statement held nothing but the truth; you had always been a willing party, albeit with some slight encouragement from his end with the help of a few hapless victims. And your whimpers only grew, shame at having falsely accused your lover of crimes against your person that he didn’t commit an additional weight on your crumbling confidence. What was real anymore?

A warm hand came to rest on the top of your head, Izana allowing you to sob into his chest to your heart’s content, before pulling away when you were finally done, and you were left to rub at dry, puffy eyes.

Yet despite all the crying you had done in the span of two hours, you still took his breath away. Laying you down on your bed, nestled among your crumpled sheets, your splayed out hair looked like an angel's halo. Those doe eyes of yours that he fell heads over heels for all those years ago still sent blood rushing southwards, his member stiffening in excitement.

A shithole like this, even if you did make it your own, far from the opulence of the home that awaited you, was the last place Izana would ever dream of being in your arms again, gently making love to you and claiming you once more for himself. Yet face to face with you after five wretched, bitter, unwilling years apart, the Sun to his Earth; there was no excuse Izana could think up good enough that would keep him away from you any longer.

“I’ve missed you.” He breathed into your skin. Warm hands blazed a trail down your cool skin, and your worn clothes did little to stand in his way - a quick flex of his muscle, and the sound of ripping fabric was all you could hear for the next few seconds as your shirt was all but shredded. His usually empty eyes were dark with lust as he leaned over to kiss you once more, tongue running over your sweet lips.

As much as he wanted to spread your legs and fuck you into the mattress repeatedly, Izana knew better than to do so, tongue now gently prodding at your clenched teeth, coaxing them apart. You were tight for one, having taken no one else in the past five years, and he rather not accidentally break you on his first time, and for two the very raw emotions that were still flowing through you could come back to haunt him later if he didn't manage them carefully. Trust - he needed to win back your trust.

Releasing you to breathe, the red of your cheeks was more prominent than before, flushed with the effort as you tried to catch your breath. But you caught his hand as he made to remove your bra, a slight squeeze that he would have barely noticed if not for his heightened senses as both his arms snaking round to unhook the offending object. “Please Izana, I don’t want -”

One hand shot back to quickly squeeze your cheeks, stopping you from speaking. “Izzy. You always call me Izzy.”

You swallowed hard. “Izzy- I don’t want to. Please.”

“Hush, love. Let me take care of you.” Izana cooed at you, and your adorable bra was his next victim, carelessly tossed to the ground, followed in quick succession by your shorts, yanked down to pool at your feet in one smooth motion.

Now left in just your panties - this time a pretty pink one that suited you so well - you looked so plain without your usual collar and cuffs decorating your body; he always did like the contrast between the platinum and gold had with his own darker skin tone, the soft sparkles of precious stones in his memories throwing rays of light that danced across your skin when he was pounding into you. The collar that marked you as his, both his and your name scrawled prominently across the jingling tag. His mind wandered back to the ornate ring sitting in the pocket of his robes, what would have been the newest item in your collection if you hadn’t been stolen away from him - he’ll make sure to give that to you later. Now all he could think of was how much he wanted you, how much he needed you.

You were still as shy as you always have been, thighs as soft as your heart squeezing together to try and keep him away from his prize, hands fluttering up to cover your breasts from his sinful gaze, as if he hadn’t already explored every part of you multiple times previously with his tongue and fingers and cock. Not for long though, Izana making short work of plucking away your small hands, pinning them to one side under one of his, exposing you to him in your full naked glory.. Your soft breathing was enthralling to watch, the rise and fall of your chest as you shifted around in an attempt to get comfortable under him, your nipples already standing at attention from the cold of the room. And who was he to deny them what they craved?

Hands flying up to tangle themselves into his hair as Izana took one rosy bud into his mouth, your gasp was music to his ears as he expertly swirled his tongue around, high praise for the gentle sucking and nibbling on the sensitive point even as his fingers went to work on your other neglected nipple. After all this time, he still knew you like the back of his hand. Releasing the now-glistening abused bud from his mouth with a pop, you were given little respite from his attack, and Izana quickly attached himself to your other neglected breasts.

"I-izzy, ish too much!" You whined out, hands grasping at his hair, tugging at him in an attempt to free yourself from the torment, though it only served to make him harder, his hand now dipping down to pull himself free of his boxers, spreading the bead of pre-cum over his sensitive head. You really wanted this huh?

Your thighs were easily parted, your resistance non-existent in the face of his strength. Hard shaft eagerly rubbing up against the valley between your legs, the thin cloth still separating you from him quickly grew wet, Izana’s curious fingers poking and prodding and teasing at your sensitive parts through and around your drenched underwear, dipping into your moist folds before bringing it up to for a taste. Delightful. Pushing two fingers into you, followed by a third, a quick pump had you attempting to not-so-subtly grind yourself against him, to which Izana only pulled away.

"Ask. Beg."

The words tumbled from your meek lips before you could help yourself, your cheeks once red from crying now flushed with embarrassment instead. “Please, Izzy! I want you.”

And that was all the encouragement he needed. Pushing your panties aside to finally reveal your pussy, glistening with your own milk, it all took the retrainst he had left not to slam himself balls deep into you in one go. You were still tight as hell - stretched to your limit to accommodate him, the gasp as he pressed his head past the ring of muscle enough to tell him so. The feeling of your warm, wet walls gripping his cock as he slowly guided himself in was like a siren's call, unmatched in every sense of the word, Izana finding himself incapable of coherent speech with every inch he sank further into you. Pants and grunts and whimpers spilling from both yours and his lips rose up like a erotic symphony, your pleas for him to go slower swallowed as the tanned man peppered your lips with constant pecks between kissing away the new tears of pain from being opened up.

Your quiet sobs finally faded away as the skin of his hips came to rest against yours, Izana pausing to let you adjust to his size as best you could, one hand pressing down on your abdomen to feel the fullness of your belly, the other gently kneading one breast. You wearily nodded. “I’m okay,” you whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek and guide him down for a kiss. What started out as a steady pump, pulling out all the way and pushing himself back as far as he could go, quickly escalated into a ferocious pace as you sucked him in, the world around him fading away as the hug of your walls on his cock drowned every other feeling out. This - this was what he had been yearning for all this time. You were made for him.

“Iz-izzy, I-” You could barely hold his gaze as you stammered out his name, your hips rutting along with his as he hit that sweet spot he knew so well, the stars bursting behind your eyes clear as the breaking of dawn. That familiar knot at the base of his cock grew tighter with every stroke, and Izana knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. He wanted you. He wanted you so bad. With one arm supporting your back to keep you pressed up against his heated, sweaty skin, the other instead worked its way down towards your folds, expertly working the shy pearl out from his hood, rubbing and teasing and massaging your sensitive clit, and your walls only clamped down further in response, thighs attempting to close around him amidst the onslaught.

And when he finally reached the peak, you were close too. One last pump and slamming himself as far into you as he could, Izana came deep into you with a garble of your name, the hot cum spurting inside you enough to trigger your own orgasm. Your walls pulsed around him, you letting out a cry as you came with him, nails digging into his back at the sudden flood of heat in your abdomen.

Pulling out, it was clear that Izana wasn't done just yet, his member still as hard as when he had begun, but you were already completely spent, your chest heaving as you slumped back down onto the bed without the support of his arm on your back, the sweat beaded on your skin glittering like diamonds.

Allowing you to rest and come down from your high, it was a dribble of white fluid from between your legs that caught his sharp eyes. Gently pushing open the lips of your pussy, the man carefully scooped up the escaping cum on the tips of two fingers, before pressing it back into your panting hole. Getting you pregnant was never something Izana thought much about before. Sure he always fucked you raw, and you had never been permitted to have any sort of birth control, but being a father wasn’t something Izana had considered. It would be rather nice he supposed, seeing you round with his child, your breasts heavy with milk, barely able to waddle around without his help. He’ll have to try harder to get you pregnant from now on.

The comfortable white robe that he had once wore was quickly wrapped around you like a large blanket, your head barely poking into view amidst the sea of fluff, your arms and hands hidden away inside the too-long sleeves. Izana himself was content with simply tucking himself back into his boxers, and wearing nothing else, took your hand into his once more, tugging at you to walk with him. There was no doubt that whoever was downstairs would have had front-row seats to the show, but only he was allowed the privilege to lay eyes on your naked form, and he would make sure it stayed that way.

“For the last strands of my sanity, please put on some clothes, Izana.” The blond-haired man's pointed voice reached Izana well before he ever saw the man, his mildly annoyed tone echoing up the narrow stairwell. Kisaki slowly came into view step by step as he descended, the suited man looking as bored as ever typing away on his phone, seated cross-legged at your small dining table.

But Izana wasn’t bothered in the slightest when the co-head of Toman failed to turn his gaze up in greeting, instead more concerned with ensuring you made your way down the completely shadowed staircase safely. He had to admit the slight amusement bubbling up from seeing you stiffen with fear at the sight of Toman's number two though, with you quickly turning your gaze back in his direction. “Don’t want to.” Izana hummed out.

He had never, and would never let Kisaki lay his filthy fingers on you, but he supposed a touch of fear was good for keeping you in line. Which reminded him - Izana pausing just mere steps from the first floor landing to pull the diamond-encrusted ring from the pocket of the robes you now wore, slipping the white gold band onto your fourth finger. You had been his, you were his, and you would forever be his - and he would make sure of it this time.

The other only rolled his eyes before returning to his never-ending work. Guiding you down the last step, the yakuza head noting Kakucho’s flushing cheeks and his pointedly turned gaze at the sight of his raging hard-on obvious through his thin boxers. Izana wriggled his eyebrows. "Wanna suck me off, Kaku- chan?"

That only served to set his cheeks even more aflamed, and Kakucho bodily turned away.

But the cheer quickly gave way to a certain seriousness that tensed the atmosphere as Izana turned his gaze down on your former neighbour left lying on the ground, obvious shoe marks on his beige shirt where he had been used as a foot prop. The final matter he had left to settle before he could whisk you home. “Now, what to do with you?”

"We should take them along.” Came Kisaki’s distracted mutter, his gaze never rising from his phone. “The boys haven't had a good fuck in a while."

You gagged, the memory of the overwhelming smell of sex and smoke instantly washing over your senses, too much for your already uncomfortable stomach. You knew where he was speaking of, having been brought there once for reasons that now escaped you, and the mere mention was enough to throw you back to that wretched place, the constant hum of skin slapping against skin combined with the tired grunts of the poor victims, trapped in a hell they can only escape from in death, making for a sickening sound. It was only by some miracle you managed to stop yourself from hurling.

A weak tug at his arm, every tear that oozed out from your dry eyes a painful drop to cry. “Izzy, please.”

“Don’t waste your tears.” Izana spat out, though his hatred for your compassion didn’t carry through to his caress of your cheek or the concern in his eyes at your bloodshot eyes. "If not him, someone else. You know that."

But you persevered. “Please. Not him. I’ll -”

“I’ll come back willingly.” Your voice was small, and your tone soft, yet your words hung in the still air. He had you.

The small pink pill he picked up off your counter wasn't one you recognised, owning no such medication, yet it sat tauntingly in his open palm, and you carefully picked it up between two fragile fingers. "Would you be kind?" You whispered.

"For you, I will be." He assured you, pushing your hand towards your mouth, his other offering you a glass of water. "Now take your pill and go to sleep, hmm?"

“I want to be free.” Was what you whispered into his chest as your eyelids grew heavier and heavier and your breathing evened out, and Izana only let out a hum in response. He never lied to you, after all.

Bundling your now unconscious form into muscular arms, you weighed almost nothing as Izana easily lifted you up in a bridal carry, what was once your home, your sanctuary, quickly filling with men in suits armed with boxes who didn’t bat a singly eye at seeing their boss in just his underwear, instead laser focused on sweeping through and starting to pack up what little belongings you had. “Well you heard her. Cut his tongue and dump him.” He tossed back casually, before disappearing past the front door.

Kakucho sighed, standing to retrieve his own shivering, screaming bundle, yet Kisaki’s eyes remained on the door you had vanished behind, the question that haunted his mind for so long making itself known again: what was so special about you?

Alas, much like Izana did his time waiting in jail, it seemed so will Kisaki have to do the same for his answer.

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