#fucking left! right then and there! i would have gotten up taken my stuff and walked right out that fucking door.

[yxami]

Happy nut or not November day 6

desc: yandere childhood friend x gn reader, heavy amounts of jealousy and obsession, yandere stuff, I feel like this is doodoo

“You’re the most jealous man I know” You spoke with heavy amusement in your voice as you wrote down your grocery list to prepare yourself for a run downtown where you could buy the ingredients for dinner.

“You know other men?” Your childhood best friend’s tone was serious and splashed with a threatening concern of jealousy. You knew he had his problems with you and other potential threats to your close friendship but was it really getting this bad?

“Ha… no?” You put your pen down just a second before you see a quarter of your room whizz past you with his one hand spinning your chair so you were forced around to face him.

“Don’t lie” He huffs, looking like a dog that was stripped of a pup cup after being promised one. “I should be the only man in your life” He whispers, scooting you to the left of your chair so he could squeeze next to you and rightfully slip you into his lap.

“There’s going to be plenty of people in my life, I can’t just avoid every guy that comes along” You sigh, feeling him wrap his arms around your lower stomach as if you were a stuffed animal, keeping you locked in with a comfortable grasp.

“You’re right” He sighs against the back of your neck, making the hair stand up, his lips pressed against your skin before he spoke. “You should keep away from everyone, and just stay in my house forever” He traces the folds on your jeans, running his fingers down your thighs back and forth.

“Very funny” You roll your eyes, reminding him that you weren’t done with your grocery list.

He gives you the time to write down two vegetables for dinner before he’s interrupting you again. “I’m coming on this trip too, right?” He rests his head on your shoulder, not masking that he was reviewing your list along with watching your every move, you already knew he would since he was your best friend and full time stalker anyways.

“If you wanna but im gonna take awhile grabbing everything so you might as well stay home” You wave your hand, grabbing the outfit you were going to wear but not yet changing like he assumed you would.

“I’ll come with you, it’s okay!” He insists before getting kicked out and ordered to stay outside while you change.

Like always, he was sitting right outside, waiting until you were done.

Once the two of you make it to the grocery store you make sure he sticks close by you so he can grab the items you need while you read them out. If he’s going to be here he might as well make himself useful, right? You mentally speak to yourself as you see him looking for the right item.

You’re too distracted with reviewing the list and adding an emoji next to every item you have in the cart to pick up on a lingering stare, not the one that you feel everyday anyways.

“The fuck are you looking at?” Your best friend growls at a person running their eyes up and down all over your body, as if you weren’t already taken by him.

You turn your head almost immediately to see who he was talking to, towering over a stranger holding on a face with enough level of seriousness that says he’s ready to beat them to a pulp.

“Hey hey, let’s just go cmon” You tug on the sleeve of his sweater, switching your attention on the aisle and then on them, hoping nobody would enter to see the situation laid before you.

You didn’t want to see your best friend in another fight, especially not at your favorite grocery store. You’re honestly shocked he hasn’t gotten arrested yet with how many fights he gets into.

“No, I wanna see what the fuck this bitch was staring at” He doubled down, glaring daggers into the limbs that he wanted to tear off of this creep.

“Let’s just go get the rest of our list” You pull on him more, looking extremely worried, which immediately gets your friend’s attention. He sighs and growls threats under his breath, making it loud enough for the creep to hear.

And as soon as he turns, the idiot scurries away faster than when they was caught.

“I’m sorry, that just pissed me off badly, they shouldn’t have been staring” He frowns, seeing how upset you looked. “I don’t mean to pick fights I swear, I just don’t want guys looking at you like that” He curls his arm around your lower torso, pulling you in for a hug.

“Sorry” He meekly says, resting his head on yours.

“It’s fine, just stop getting into fights before you get your ass beat” You picked up your phone to see what was next on the list, dragging him along the entire trip before he could pick another fight.

He was a handful but at least he listened to you?

#yxami’s yam #yandere #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #male yandere #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #pls request #gn reader #yandere obsession #yandere stalker #yandere bestfriend #yandere best friend #crazy yandere #yandere childhood friend #clingy yandere #yandere friend #yandere oc #yandere ocs #yandere stuff #yandere things #yandere boy #yandere male #yandere x reader

[phfenomena]

❝i hope i was your favorite crime.❞ || coriolanus snow x f!reader

| request- hi! i was wondering if you could do a corio x plinth reader where he aproches her bc she is a plinth (and she notices and gets mad bc she think that corio takes her for a stupid girl who would just fall for his lies) but he slowly falls for her. i would really like if it ends well, like them together. i hope you understood my idea, i love your work btw.

| A/N- i wanted so bad to make sooooo angsty but i fought the demons. def ooc everybody besides festus. fuck you festus. hope you like it as much as i do 🫶🏻

| WARNINGS- alcohol consumption, creepy men, bad fathers (relatable), nice coriolanus snow, festus creed (he deserves a warning), eating, making out, traumatized sejanus (im sorry sejanus i love you)

the eldest plinth daughter. not an heir, but something you’d want to marry into. if you could get her, you’d never need to do anything again in your life. coriolanus knew that, he reveled in that. he’d never met her, all the times he went over to the plinth’s apartment she was either out or the door to her bedroom was tightly locked- not accepting visitors.

he wondered what she did with her time, was she in university? sejanus seems to never talk about his sister unless someone asks. but yet here she was. a floor length silver dress caught coriolanus’ eye, turning his head to follow the figure. she stood tall and confidently next to her brother. his eyes cascaded over the entire family, all in the same tantalizing silver. they were brightly shining in the ballroom of the benefit. it’d be hard to ignore them. he hated that.

he studied her, they way he could almost see a resemblance to sejanus but feeling as if he’s grasping at straws. her left hand holding a champagne glass she hasn’t drank from, and her right hand resting on sejanus’ shoulder. she’s nodding along to whatever nonsense pup harrington is spitting at her, no doubt making a pass.

she excuses herself and points at her glass, which is now empty after having to listen to the poor boy. when she reaches the full glasses lined up on the table coriolanus makes his move. “hello, ms.plinth.” her head turns to him and her eyes narrow. “coriolanus snow. my brothers supposed best friend- where’s tigris? i like her.” she quickly downs the glass and reaches for another. coriolanus can feel the disdain for him leaking out of her pores.

“she’s, um, she’s back at home. with grandma’am. she is quite nice to be around, isn’t she? how are you enjoying your night?” he attempts to flip the conversation back to her- oh wait, she’s not even looking at him anymore. her eyes find sejanus’ as he’s talking to livia cardew, and she begins walking in his direction. “nice talking to you, coriolanus.” but he felt like it definitely wasn’t nice. was he wanting to marry her for her money? yes. but was she also beautiful and apparently quite funny, as ma plinth has said? also yes.

she spent the rest of night collecting champagne glasses and not leaving sejanus’ side. even he was beginning to get bothered by the bachelors approaching his sister. she leaned against the back wall, yes, another glass in hand. she’d gotten roped into a conversation with festus, clearly tortuous. coriolanus was standing with sejanus about a foot away, so sejanus could keep and eye on festus.

“it’s just so frustrating, coryo! all these guys coming up and trying to make a pass at my sister while i’m right there, if i didn’t know any better i would’ve taken pup harrington outside. you should’ve heard some of the stuff he was saying to her. it’s horrible.” sejanus rants while staring at festus. “well, she’s gonna have to get married eventually, sejanus.” coriolanus says with a slight smile to his bestfriend.

“i know that, just none of these guys. we’ve been everyday with them at the academy. you know how bad they are, the shit they say about women in general. i don’t want those guys with her.” it’s obvious he’s quite over protective of her, even though she’s three years older than him. coriolanus nods along with him and pats his back.

“i’ll go save her.” coriolanus comforts his friend and makes his way to festus. “sejanus said he needed your opinion on some ideas for the food, seemed urgent.” she nods and offers a knowing smile to coriolanus. festus leans his head on the wall “man! i really felt like i was getting somewhere with her” coriolanus rests a hand on his shoulder. “trust me, you definitely weren’t.”

the party has picked up and died down, everyone sitting to eat but coriolanus couldn’t seem to figure out where she was. she wasn’t sitting with her family and unless she had friends he didn’t know, he couldn’t see her anywhere. he’d made his way outside to take a breather from all the talking and hugging old people who knew his parents.

that’s when his eyes laid upon the girl in the silver dress, and he took a seat next to her on the steps. she’s staring out into the gardens and her eyes are glazed over. no champagne glass in her hand this time. she doesn’t turn to look at him.

“i’m really drunk right now and i hate almost everyone in there. all they care about is money and those stupid hunger games.” she confided in him and rested her chin on her arms that are wrapped around her knees. “yeah, you didn’t look like you were having a great time. i tried counting how many glasses you had but i lost count after ten.” she lightly laughed and shook her head.

“i think it was thirteen but i’m not sure, i drank four while festus was chirping in my ear about how many children he wanted.” she feigned chills at the mention of his name and they laughed. she turned to look at him with a barley noticeable smile “you’re not like them, are you? you’re more like sejanus. quiet and doesn’t bother women they want to marry.” the comparison of sejanus would normally upset him, but coming from her it felt the highest compliment a man could receive.

she rubbed her hands over her arms to conserve warmth and coriolanus quickly removed his blazer to wrap around her and she muttered a small thanks. resuming her staring at the gardens. “would you like to grab you some water? or something to eat? it’s not gonna be very good for you tomorrow morning if you don’t eat something.” he whispers towards and she nods her head.

as coriolanus is walking back in, the plinths are walking out. “hey coryo. we’re heading home for the night as ma doesn’t feel too well, have you seen-“ coriolanus points outside “she’s on the steps, make sure she eats something when you get home. way too much champagne for a human.” seianus claps his hand against coriolanus’ chest and continues outside.

the sun is battering down on the capitol but the plinths home is cooler than a beautiful spring day, probably for the hungover girl inside. coriolanus knocks on the door and smiles as his eyes meet ma’s. “oh! coriolanus, it’s so good to see you. we didn’t talk much last night. come in! i just finished up some pies!” she ushers him inside as sejanus joins them in his mothers corner of the kitchen.

after the grueling and quite long conversation with ma coriolanus excused himself. sejanus seemingly interested in this new sugar ma had found. as coriolanus rounded the corner to her room, he stopped. suddenly feeling quite nervous and as if he might throw up. her bedroom door opened and her eyes meet his, he looks down and she’s holding his blazer out. “i heard you talking to ma, here this.” her calloused tone returns, maybe she only likes him she’s drunk. he better find a lot more champagne.

the plinth family plus coriolanus are sitting in the sun room, drinking iced tea and munching on whatever treats ma had baked. “so, coriolanus, do you have any plans on getting married after university?” strabo’s deep and rough voice cut over his wife’s story.

coriolanus set his tea down “i’d hope so, certainly.” his eyes skip between strabo and his daughter. she’s sitting with her knees pulled up to chest and she’s looking out the window. “well you know how much we’d love to have you in the family, we could arrange your marriage with-“ she sets her cup down harshly and stands up.

“you always do this! could you just leave me alone? maybe i don’t want to get married, ma said it was fine if i didn’t marry.” she’s waving her hands around and waits for him to answer. when she’s met with silence she storms out and slams the sunroom door. “strabo, you can’t make her marry someone she doesn’t love.” someone she doesn’t love.

coriolanus stands up and thanks them for the tea. “tigris wanted to head to the market and i’d never let her go alone, i’ll see you guys tomorrow night.”

he walks by her door and tries the handle, quietly. he fully expected it to be locked but the door swings open and she’s laying face down on the bed. “sejanus, go away.” she grumbled through her mattress. “it’s not sejanus.” she sighs and sits up, staring at him.

“do you not knock before entering a room?” she tilted her head and studied him. “i expected it to be locked, sorry. i’ll knock next time.” his eyes seem to gravitate towards the floor and he can’t will himself to bring them back up.

“i’m sorry about my father. i’m sure it made you very uncomfortable, he’s just always trying to marry me off.” her hands fidget awkwardly in her lap. “i wasn’t too uncomfortable, any guy would be lucky to marry you. i always heard that you were quite mean, i’ve yet to see that.”

she scoffed and turned her head to the window. “they only say that because i don’t hesitate to speak my mind. i taught sejanus that. i am definitely what they call me, but only to them.” why does she feel so comfortable spilling her guts to him?

“i saw you and sejanus’ sister a few minutes ago, coriolanus. are you willing to deal with her grating voice and attitude for the plinths money?” arachne sneers towards him and the group laughs. “it helps that she’s pretty, it’s already hard enough trying to talk to her.” coriolanus regrets it the second it escapes his mouth.

she liked him. she really did like coriolanus snow, but who doesn’t? she weaved her way through the crowd trying to escape him. he was hot on her trail until he catches up to her in one of the various bedrooms inside the ravinstalls estate.

“do you think i’m stupid, coriolanus? be honest.” he scrambles to find the words but his brain couldn’t function in the one moment he desperately needed it. “i said you were different, i talked to you about things i liked, i would tell ma all about you. but you aren’t different, you’re just like the others.” he ran his hand through his hair. “i was different, i am different. i don’t know why i said that, it just came out. i didn’t mean it, i promise.”

he attempted to take her hand but she ripped out of his grasp and stomped out of the room. shit.

the next day her door was locked. and the next. and the next. he wasn’t even sure she was there anymore. sejanus hasn’t mentioned anything but he wished he would. he wished he would tell him if she was okay or if he majorly screwed up.

as coriolanus and sejanus sit in the sunroom attempting to study, there’s a knock on the door. coriolanus cranes his neck to see festus ravinstill standing there with a bouquet of flowers. god, this kid is tragic. but then he sees you, take the flowers with a smile and a kiss on his cheek. strabo’s never looked happier.

coriolanus suffered in silence watching festus become a daily guest and drowning out sejanus’ complaints about him being there. for once in his life, he agreed with sejanus. when he enters the kitchen to refill his glass of lemonade he sees her watering the plants in the kitchen.

“don’t marry him. he won’t be good to you.” she drops her head and turns to him. “and you would?” she spits back sending him into a whirlwind. “yes.” he whispers out and she takes a few steps closer to him. “festus is nice and fathers happy with this. i don’t have another choice, coriolanus. i have to do this” how does she always sound so sure of herself? maybe coriolanus could take a class from her.

their eyes finally meet, after weeks of not seeing her eyes, she’s finally looking at him. “you could marry me, instead. i wouldn’t treat you like a prize, like festus would.” she steps impossibly closer and he feels like he can’t breathe when she’s around. oxygen becomes molasses and his knees become jelly.

she looks over coriolanus’ shoulder and stands up on her toes to kiss him. he takes a moment to catch on but he his hands find purchase on her waist and he leans down. all nerves thrown out the window and all he can think of is her, how she tastes, how she smells, he can’t even remember who festus is.

her hands wind his curly hair around her fingers as she swipes her tongue against his own and he pushes her against the refrigerator, causing a few magnets to fall onto the floor. his hands are trailing up and down the waist of the yellow dress she had decided to wear that day.

festus had left the plinths the second he saw her look at him over coriolanus’ shoulder. knowing he lost and there’s nothing he could’ve done.

she pulls back, panting. “i’ll marry you, just don’t call me annoying again.” her lipstick is smeared across both of their mouths and he gives her a dopey smile. “i wouldn’t dream of it” he brushes stray hair out of her face.

“in the kitchen?! we make food there!” sejanus is standing in the doorway, seemingly traumatized. “sorry, sej.” he shakes his head walking away but throwing a secretive thumbs up at coriolanus.

#tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #billy the kid x reader #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #tom blyth fluff #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x you #tom blyth x you #coriolanus fanfiction #sejanus plinth #sejanus deserved better #festus creed i don’t like you #billy the kid fluff #billy bonney x reader #billy the kid #william bonney smut #william bonney fluff #william bonney x reader #william bonney

[purplelupins]

Sugar Sugar

|The Black Phone|

Part I Part II

Albert Shaw/The Grabber x Fem!reader

Summery:

A couple months after Albert had snapped and finally gotten reader, she left for college…and all seemed to be going so well up until he pays her a visit.

Warnings: stalking, age gap, jealousy, toxic relationship, unclear intentions, unprotected sex, tummy bulge, overstimulation, pantie stealing, kidnapping, little bit of feelings, lowkey voyeurism, creampie, swearing, manipulation.

MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE WITH ANY OF MY STUFF

Notes:SURPRISE!! a year later and we have a part two!! This is dedicated to my dearest friend @wayward-persephone. Happy birthday you beautiful, talented soul. This is for you 🤍

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

If there was one thing you had learned about Albert Shaw, it was that he didn’t like to share.

It had been a month since you left for College, and Albert hadnt taken the change well. He had grown accustomed to seeing you everyday when he pleased, and he had so very nearly persuaded you to stay...to forget about your dreams and any future career you thought you might have...but he hadn’t quite gotten you.

Not yet.

He had played with your hair as you sat in his lap one afternoon in his office. “Why do you need college anyway? Statistically, most people don’t even use their degrees, honey.”

But you were adamant.

It would have been so easy to just drag you into his van and make you disappear from the world, but

You were his sweet little bunny, and he had engrained that in you so well, perhaps you just didnt realize how much you belonged to him yet, and that was alright, he could wait. he was old, and he knew a thing or two about patience.

Albert pulled into the college parking lot and gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white and his teeth hurt from clenching his jaw so tight. One month.

God he had missed you... needed you. Not that he hadnt seen you of course- he had indeed seen you, you just didnt know he saw you. countless nights of driving for hours just to sit outside your dorm window and watch you sleep. On more than one occasion he had attempted to sneak inside the campus but he had to appreciate the amount of security there- at least he knew that his girl was safe from anyone else trying to sneak in like him. he knew what college life was like; he had been young too. He knew all about how good girls became whores so fast without being under their parents gaze and how young men sought out any warm cunt they could to sow their seed...disgusting the lot of them. But he knew he had trained you well.

dumbed you down just right, and made you reliant on him...knew he was the one who could make you cum, and who would make you feel special. because you were. you were his, and that was very special.

Of course he wished that guard hadn’t stopped him so that he might sneak into your dorm room and slip into your bed to use your sleeping body…but alas he was denied.

It was chillier now, and Albert shrugged his cardigan on over his shirt as he strode across the parking lot.

He knew you werent expecting you, but he also knew you would be in your dorm cleaning until 3:30 that day... some study group you had joined was meeting and he knew he only had so long to see you. But regardless of if you had to go or not...he would see you.

As soon as he opened the door to the building, he swore he could smell you. Perhaps it was just his vivid memory, but as he strode to the reception, he ran his tongue over his teeth and he could even taste you. He could feel his pupils dilate at the very thought of how sweet you were when you came into his mouth. How you grabbed at him and whined and whimpered...

So fucking sweet...like sugar.

Albert asked the guard at the desk which room you were in, and it was easy enough to convince the man he was your father- Al was well aware that your family hadn’t come to see you yet- he had heard you talking to a friend one night on the phone.

Plus, the staff knew his face- he had been the one to move you there after all, not your family.

He smirked at the memory; remembering how he had knocked on your front door and your father had answered and looked so pleased.

Of course, your father knew Albert by that time- your he had come to your work numerous times to check on his baby girl, and Al had so happily greeted the man while you stood there with a blanched face. Your poor father had no idea that Al had just finished filling your young pussy with his cum and that it was now slowly dripping down your thighs under your skirt. He remembered how your father had invited him to your family's summer barbecue, and how elated he had been when Al accepted. His daughter's boss coming to their house? This was a big deal.

So when Albert showed up, van and all to move you two hours away, free of charge, you father had almost exploded with gratitude and pride for you. He had called you to the door and beamed at you- he had no idea what a fantastic impression you had made on your boss...he was so proud of you.

There was something about having your family so obliviously accepting of him that made the devil in him purr. He had loaded up the few things you had decided to take into his van, and watched as you nervously climbed into the passanger side. You had both waved to your weeping parents, but as soon as you were down the block and out of their view, Albert's warm hand was on your thigh, dragging that long skirt up you leg and bunching it around your hips so he could stroke your flesh. You had jumped and tried to push his hand away lest someone see...but he had just laughed and pulled off into a quiet parking lot. He had you in his lap before the engine was off; his hands had been in your hair, pulling you tight against his chest as his tongue licked into your soft mouth. "I’m gonna miss you, bunny." he had rasped, "Gotta make this trip count, right?" The sound of his belt unbuckling had made you shiver in his arms.

His eye twitched at the memory of it.

By the time he had your boxes in your dorm, he had made you cum three times. Albert needed you to remember who you belonged to; he didnt care if you could walk. He wouldn’t let you leave his sight without knowing very well that he could trust you…and in the back of your mind, you were aware of that.

His possessiveness worried you sometimes. You didn’t even feel comfortable going to the movies with a friend, lest he find out and torture you the next time. And Albert always found out. He knew everything; while that was charming and sweet sometimes…it was uncomfortable at times too. Al had immersed himself into your life like an infestation and if you wanted him out, you'd have to burn everything to the ground. Possibly including yourself.

He was everywhere all at once.

Al turned down the hall and found your dorm easily, his breathing came faster and faster as he got closer to your door. The anticipation was making his fingers tingle; he could hear light music playing and he smiled to himself when he recognized it. It was song that had come on the radio one night as he had driven you home from work and he had noticed you swaying to it. He had bought you the record the next day...you were thinking of him...

Of course she is.

The idea of you thinking of him was enough to make him sway on his feet.

Albert knocked on the door four times, and waited.

"One second!" He heard you call, and he felt his pulse jump.

A moment later, you were opening the door, and he watched you freeze.

You stared up at the man you knew so well and felt your eyes go wide. Your pulse quickened and your skin flushed at the sheer sight of him

"Albert." You murmured in shock.

He grinned, his canines showing off nicely.

"Surprise, kiddo." Came that voice that made a shiver chase your vertebras. Albert ate up your appearance and clenched his fists to not grab you right there. Your hair was a mess and your only had on a crewneck you had gotten from the school over your jeans.

Adorable.

"C’mere." He opened his arms and relished in you stepping into them. He felt your arms wrap around his waist, and you buried your face into his thick chest as he in turn buried his face into your hair and breathed in. Albert noted that you smelled a little different, but it was still you. He made a mental note to steal a few panties while he was there since the ones he had snatched before now smelled more of him that you.

“Miss me?" he rumbled, and he felt you nod against his chest.

"Mhm. I- I had no idea you were coming..." you mumbled as you pulled away and he tucked some hair behind your ear.

He watched your eyes go all bright and fluttery as you stared up at him.

"Yeah well...I missed my favourite girl." Albert cupped your cheek and you melted into his touch, but you jumped away when you heard some footsteps coming down the hall.

The action stabbed at Albert’s heart and jealously began to poison his head.

Was she embarassed by me?

The older man looked down the hall, and saw that it was two girls who looked to be around you age; they smiled as they saw you.

"Hey y/n! Didn't know your dad was coming to visit you." One chirped and the other nodded.

Ah.

Albert smirked internally.

You wanted to curl in on yourself. They had no idea this man had made your body do things you didnt even know were possible. You looked at Albert pleadingly and he slowly realized why you were panicking...because if they ever met your father they would question who he was…and that would rouse a plethora of questions.

Perhaps if Al was a better man he would have corrected them and told them that he was just a friend…but Albert Shaw was not a good man. And he was feeling particularly sadistic.

"Yeah, I thought I’d surprise her. Nice to meet you girls." Albert grinned and watched them pass.

They blushed and giggled when they were past and Albert’s face fell.

Whores.

You rubbed a hand over your face and sighed out a laugh.

"Come in." You stood aside, and smiled sheepishly.

Albert shared your smile, albeit more predatory, and passed you; he waited until your door was closed before he grabbed you hand and pulled you to him. At the quickness of his actions, you squeaked, but the sound was covered by his mouth as he kissed you fiercely. The other man’s tongue slipped into your mouth and smoothed against yours. He pushed you up against the door and locked it blindly- need taking over him. His huge hand wove into your hair and held you still- a low groan emitted from him when he felt your soft lips move against his.

His warm breath huffed against your cheeks, and you felt as I’ve he was consuming you through his every touch, let alone his kiss. Albert picked you up and had you wrap your legs around his waist in an effort to have you closer. He needed more. So much more. Albert ground his hardening cock into your crotch, and smirked to himself when you moaned helplessly into his mouth, small hands grabbing at his shoulders and hips moving against his like he taught you to.

"A-Al-" You gasped as he released your mouth and kissed messily down your neck. Goosebumps springing up his lips’s wake.

"I know bunny, I know… I got you.” He rasped, and pulled you away from the door before dumping you down onto your small bed.

The record you had been listening to was still playing, and Albert was everywhere, and your head was getting dizzier, and dizzier by the second. It had been a month since you saw him and while you werent a particularly needy person, he had left a gaping hole in you. He had made you addicted to him; the way he held you and spoke to you and fucked you.

He had you in the palm of his hand. all he needed to do was close his fist.

Albert shucked off his jacket and connected your mouths again; unbuckling his belt, and unzipping your jeans and tugging them down all in a flurry. When the cool air snuck up your bare legs, you shivered again. Albert took notice and pecked your lips once before nuzzling your nose with his.

"Don’t worry, I’ll warm my girl up." He rumbled and you blushed even harder at his insinuation. Albert’s rough hands collected yours in one palm and wrapped his fingers around your wrist, while the other pulled his cock out and ran the tip through your slick folds. The slow drag of the leaking tip made you whimper at the contact after so long of relying on your fingers- just like he had showed you.

Albert tsked you and hummed, "Awe I’m sorry...I know. Its been too long. I’ll take care of you, bunny. just hold still."

You were so soaked that he slipped the head in far too easily, and you choked on your breath. The sudden stretch was painful, and you felt tear prick at your ears as your body adjusted. Albert groaned and dipped his face into your neck as he pushed and pulled until he was fully sheathed inside you. There was a bulge in your tummy when he sat fully inside you, and the sight of it when you look down made you clench unconsciously. You whimpered and your body began rolling your hips, needing him to move. And he was eager to oblige. The older man quickened the slow thrusts, and began hammering into you- all need and possession.

Your body bouched under him as the three his weight into fucking you, each thrust striking your clit steadily. Albert’s hold on you almost tightened in tandem with your body and he revelled in it.

“That’s my girl, look at you…” He purred, his head spinning from your rosy cheeks and heavy eyelids, “…You still fucking blush for me…” he mused as his pace slowed for a moment to enjoy how you went even redder.

You looked away, embarrassed that you were indeed a flushed mess; you bit your lip to stay quiet, but it couldn’t hide you mewling and gasping.

Mine.

Albert could feel himself get closer and he gave into his selfishness and began rutting into you without abandon. There was only the muffled noises of your cries and the smack of his flesh on yours in the small room. He didn’t even try to hide it as people passed by outside, and the depraved side of him was hoping those girls from before would hear them and know what he’s doing to her. He hoped it would make them stay away from his bunny…he didn’t want her surrounded by sluts anyways. And if she was lonely, she was more likely to come home to him.

All mine…my bunny.

He was close. You felt Al throb inside you and his warm breath on your neck as he chased his orgasm. Albert’s thrusts grew sloppy and lost their rhythm, then he pushed forward into you, and you sobbed into his shoulder when you felt the tip of his cock press up against your cervix as he came. The bulge in your tummy grew warmer, and you felt as if you might melt into a puddle. His cum filled you, and some began to leak out past the tight seal of cock.

He growled into your hair, and ground his shaft against your g-spot, eliciting a surprised gasp from you at the intense stimulation.

“You thought I wouldn’t make you cum, bunny?” He smirked, exhausted. “You thought I forgot how to take care of you, hm?”

Your eyes went wide.

“I- I don- “ you couldn’t even keep at thought together when he lifted his shirt for his tummy to grind down onto your clit better, and he rolled his hips against you.

“Christ, you’re all dumb already, hm? I think my girl missed me.” He teased you, grinning wolfishly at your fucked-out form.

You nodded, not caring what he said; you could feel yourself tighten more and mor. You could feel a moan build in your chest. You gently grabbed the back of his neck and tried to bring him down to your lips. He resisted for a moment. “Ah ah, what do we say?” He had you hanging by a threat and he was going to soak up every moment while he could.

You sobbed quietly.

“Please!” You gasped when he ground particularly hard into you.

“Atta girl.” He praised you and dipped his head down to kiss you. You latched onto his lips eagerly and whimpered with need as he continued his ministrations. Albert hummed contently at your desperation for him, then he pulled away after a moment and spoke against your lips, “You’re almost there, cmon…” he encouraged you.

You could barely think after the kiss, and nodded. You felt yourself give in to the scorching heat inside you, and you arched your back as you came. You felt a rush of liquid down your bare thighs as you forced some of Albert’s cum out of you.

“There you go…there’s my girl. Good girl.” He rasped against you, the rumbles in his chest making your even warmer than you were. The older man’s demanding energy never ceased to envelop you- consuming you mind and body like you were his property.

Albert kissed at your neck and slowly eased himself off of you, and watched his cum spill out of you as he pulled out. “Made a mess of my bunny…” he mused under his breath and he pushed his hair back from his face. Then he looked down at you, and he paused.

You were staring up at him so serenely. So fucked out that you probably couldn’t even form a coherent thought or idea.

Mine…

As your breathing finally returned to normal, you slowly eased yourself up from your bed and looked down at your legs where Albert was kneeling and kissing at your thighs. You watched him drag his tongue up a streak of your cum; as if he felt your eyes on his, he looked up at you, and smirked devilishly.

“There’s my pretty girl.” He cooed.

“Hi...” You said shyly, while you squirmed and twitched at his touches- your skin already so sensitive.

Albert placed one last kiss to your thigh then knelt down on the floor to look at you as you sat up. “What do you say if I take you out for a bit?” He rubbed your ankle gently, knowing his touch made your brain melt.

To his pleasure, you nodded with a dazed, shy smile, “Yes please.”

“Alright…let’s get you dressed. Can’t have you catching cold can we?” He stood slowly and winced at the pain in his knees; groaning at his back.

As you righted yourself and came back from the washroom after cleaning the mess between your legs, you saw Albert perched on the edge of your bed, playing with one of your stuffed animals. It was a little childish but they made you feel safe. For a man you knew could be brutal and cunning and possessive, he looked so soft with such an innocent object in his large, calloused hands.

You suddenly wondered if he had any when he was growing up…he had divulged very little about his younger life…but a few details about the cruelty of his father slipped by. You knew he didn’t have it easy…

Your heart stung. Wordlessly, your crossed the room to him, and crawled into his lap, not caring that you were sore. Albert watched you climb onto him, and was about to make a comment, but then you nuzzled your face into his neck, and breathed in, and he kept quiet.

“I missed you, Al…” came your soft voice from his hair.

Something in his chest tugged.

“I know…I missed you too, sweetheart.” He rasped, and pet your hair.

You both sat there for a moment- the carnal need for each other out of your systems for the time being.

“How’s Samson?” You asked as you reluctantly pulled yourself away and tugged on a new pair of panties since the ones you had been wearing were missing all of a sudden.

“Howling for you.” Albert laughed. It was true. Samson knew you gave him the best treats and a month without you might have been even harder on him than on Al.

You nodded, then tried to hide your smile as you reached into one of your storage drawers and pulled out a large bag of treats. Albert barked out a laugh.

She’s incorrigible…

“I hope it’s okay…I found them in a shop here and thought of him.” You fiddled with the seal on the bag and looked down.

Albert shook his head, that signature half smirk pulling at his lips, “You’re too sweet, you know that?” And took the bag from you.

You waved him off and pulled on a skirt, and a new shirt that didn’t have cum on it. “It’ll make me happy to know he’s not howling.”

You tugged your shoes on and Albert wrapped his arms around your waist, “Is he the only one you thought of?” He rumbled, and noted that you instantly relaxed into his embrace.

Such a good girl…

“Al…” you gasped embarrassingly, and squirmed.

“What?” He chucked into your ear, “I thought of you, you know…”

You gasped when he nipped at your neck.

“I- well I just…I’m- you know I thought about you…” you felt him smirk, “And i-if you keep pushing I don’t think we’ll ever leave so…you know- just…” you tried so hard to be assertive and it failed so miserably, but Albert seemed to enjoy it as he kissed your head and was smiling as he came around you.

“Can’t blame an old man for asking.” He kissed your temple and handed you your jacket. “Now how about a milkshake and a slice of pie?” He opened the door, and let you walk out first.

You took a booth at the popular diner in town, and went to sit across from Albert, but he didn’t even give you the chance before he was tugging you into the booth beside him.

He scanned the menu, squinting at the small font, and made up his mind quickly.

You tried to hide your smile.

“Now why don’t you tell me what you’ve been learning so far?” He cooed and leaned his cheek into his hand as he watched you read.

You flushed agin. You were certain you’d never get used to his attention.

“Oh well most classes are just introductory right now…so nothing super interesting just-“

“Hi there folks, my name’s Harper I’ll be your server for today…what can I get for you?” A vibrant server came over to the two of you and you almost jumped when you saw her. You had been so used to being in the little bubble Albert seemed to make around you that someone popping it irked you.

Albert smiled at your startled form then looked up at the young woman. “A piece of cherry pie and a coffee for me, please.” He said. The young woman’s face flushed slightly, and you felt jealously rise in you. That was new…You knew Albert was handsome, and you trusted his claim that you were the apple of his eye, but that didn’t stop you from being a little possessive in your own way. You weren’t the most confident about yourself, knowing there were far more beautiful girls out there that could easily catch Albert’s eye-

“And what would your daughter like?”

The simple question made you freeze and look to Albert for help. You didn’t know what to say or if you should correct her. Evidently, Albert took a sick enjoyment from your discomfort and the perverted thoughts that swam comfortably in his head because of it.

Albert hid his wolfish grin, and covered it with a playful chuckle as he pulled you into him like a father might. “Go on then, kiddo. Dad can’t order for you forever.”

You stared down at your napkin like it might help you, but nothing happened. “J-just a strawberry milkshake please.” You murmured, still not looking up at the perfectly nice young woman.

“Sure thing- I’ll get those things out for you in a jiffy!” She chirped, and walked away with her paper in hand.

You still couldn’t look at Albert, though he seemed to have enjoyed the interaction thoroughly.

“Albert can you please make me disappear like one of your magic tricks?” You whispered, and covered your face with your hands when he laughed.

“C’mon now, sweetheart, it’s just a joke,” he kissed your hair, “You didn’t finish telling me about what you’re up to here.” He coaxed you to finally look up when he eased his hand over your thigh under the hem of your skirt.

“What’s wrong? Hm?” He teased you, and you just stared up at him helplessly as he moved his hand higher and higher until your lips dropped open; he passed the edge of your dampening panties, all the way to your very sensitive clit, and at the contact, you forgot how to breathe.

“Go on.” He prodded you.

Your lips felt dry and when you went to try speaking, you barley formed more than a few very discombobulated sentences.

You didn’t even notice Harper coming back with a smile on her face and tray in hand until Al looked past you and replaced his devilish grin with a pleasant expression.

“Here you are. Now just be careful of the pie it’s a bit hot. Oh, and I took the liberty of adding some cream to it…you strike me as the kind of man who might enjoy that.” She said as she put them down, and placed your milkshake down in front of you.

You might have made a comment to her about being more respectful and not flirt with the man she assumed was your father, but you decided against it. You would feel horrible after if you did, and she was harmless.

“Thank you so much.” Albert pulled you closer into his side and continued his petting of your clit as the young woman walked away.

“You think she knows?” He rasped in your ear, “That my cum is still dripping out of you? You think she knows I’m playing with your little pretty cunt?”

His depraved words made you shift and squirm. You gasped when he stroked over your clit- the friction from your panties over your recovering flesh making you twitch in your seat. “I don’t Um- I- ah!” You tried again, but when Al saw you about to speak he ran a finger down your slit between your puffy lips and your mind went blank.

“There she goes again…just an empty head.” he mused to himself as he watched your eyes glaze over while he toyed with your body right there in front of the half-full diner. He took a bite of his pie and groaned in his throat. “Almost as sweet as your cherry, kiddo.”

You fought with your brain to do your best to maintain your dignity and complete enough sentences to pretend that you were not being petted under the table, and seeing as no police were called, you managed.

Albert skillfully ate his pie and sipped at his coffee with one hand ; feeding you every other bite. A little red filling dropped down from your mouth onto your chin, and he couldn’t resist reaching over to you and swiping it away with his thumb before sucking it into his mouth. “Messy girl.” He hummed before returning to his coffee like nothing had happened.

Meanwhile you sipped mindlessly at your milkshake. You barely tasted it. Not when you were on the edge of another orgasm, which you pathetically fell over when he leaned over to you and kissed just below your ear.

“Come on pretty girl. Show your new town how well you cum for me.” He rasped lowly against your skin.

You bit down on your straw to hide your moan and you gripped his leg with your hand like a vice. Albert groaned deep in his chest when he felt the rush of wetness soaking your panties, and slowly took his hand away before sucking the two fingers into his mouth for a second.

“Such a good girl.” He said, and kissed your temple before giving you the last bite of pie.

The bill was brought to you and you didn’t even have time to glance at it before Albert had put down a $20 and was helping you up out of the booth onto your wobbly legs.

“Have a great afternoon!” The server’s voice called after you as Al lead you away and he sent her a wave of recognition; too busy trying to make sure you didn’t fall flat on your face. Your head felt disconnected from your body.

Albert -ever the gentleman- helped you into the van, and kissed your cheek. He climbed in beside you and pulled out with ease; you were still so boneless you didn’t even notice where you were going. He could have been driving to Canada for all you knew.

A comfortable silence enveloped you until Albert broke it.

“I was thinking, honey…why don’t you come back to Denver? You don’t seem very happy here.” He said, eyes on the road.

You blinked, and sighed; fidgeting with your hands. You had hoped he would have dropped the subject after you had officially left for college, but it seemed he was still focused on it. You hated any kind of confrontation, and sadly, he knew that.

“Well…I just…I know I probably will end up doing something else, but I guess I just want to have some kind of education…and it’s not for long.” You shrugged. It was the same conversation you had had with him months ago.

Albert gripped the wheel tight, “Don’t you miss me?” He asked, though his tone masked his rising temper.

“Of course I miss you…” You looked over at him, “So much.”

The older man pursed his lips and his eye twitched.

“Then what else do you need? Don’t you want to just wake up next to me and not have to torture yourself for years just to learn something you will probably forget?” He pushed, though his tone remained eerily gentle.

You were so focused on his words that you didn’t notice when he began to pull off the road.

It wasn’t until he parked the van that you finally looked around, and your brows scrunched up. “Al…where are we?”

There was a pause as he thought.

“Is there someone else?” He asked lowly, turning his body towards you and skipping over your question.

Your eyes went wide at the ludicrous insinuation. “Someone- No! No one…I don’t even really talk at all to anyone.” You offered honestly.

He sighed and shook his head. “So you’re staying?” His question was practically rhetorical.

“I am. At least for a year…if I hate it I’ll come back.” You nodded and smiled gently to reassure him.

Albert felt his anger start to rise and he turned away from you, running a hand through his hair.

He didn’t want “if”…he wanted you. He wanted you morning, afternoon and night and any other time after.

Albert sighed.

“Now why did you have to do that? Hm?” He turned to you.

You shook your head in confusion.

“A-Albert you’re scaring me…” there was a tremble in your voice and while Al had slowed down in his kidnappings and had truly enjoyed you…he had missed that nervousness. And hearing it in your voice was like a drug to him.

“You’re scared?” He asked. There was a lilt to his voice that you had only heard once before when he caught a spider and found out you were terrified.

Back then it was playful.

Now?…now it unsettled you. It was creepy and unnatural.

“Well…Yea…” you confessed, hands going cold all of a sudden.

There was a beat of silence, then he nodded. “Guess there’s not much use in dragging this out then.”

Everything happened so fast, but what you knew was your head stung, and your world went black and fuzzy.

You were dizzy and your temple throbbed. Your limbs all felt like lead while your neck felt like it was pumped with helium. All you felt was your limp body being moved and something rough tightening around your wrists- a tight, sticky feeling over your lips too.

Albert placed you in the back of his van, and tore a piece of duct tape over your pretty lips and bound your hands and feet. He tsked the blood dripping down your face from your head. “All you had to do was agree with me, bunny…now look at what you made me do.” He tittered.

You squirmed against him weakly as unconsciousness took you, and he chuckled at your fight. “Shh…I know you’re scared…I know you don’t loved me like I love you, bunny… but that’s okay. I did all this to get you…and I’m not going to let you leave now…I have just the place for you.”

You would learn to love him, Albert would make sure of it.

He had managed to trap this precious little bunny in his jaws, and he wasn’t about to just let her go.

Not when she was as sweet as can be.

Just like sugar.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

@dogmatic255 @ethanhoewke @honeycovered-bandaids @dancingisdangerouss @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @theroadreader2 @lxdyred @eth1calcannibal @ebiemidnightlibrarian @katehawke @blep-bloop @ratpackash @al-shaw @darkvoidz @belladonnaaura @pecter-specter @samhainrain @turtle-boris @mandowifey

#ethan hawke #the grabber #the grabber x reader #albert shaw #the black phone #albert shaw x reader #slasher

[henwilsonmd]

post 6x18: some out-of-order vignettes | ao3

4251 words

“Buck,” said Eddie, trying to school his face into something less fond and amused. “That’s my couch.”

Buck turned from where he’d been happily showing off the new piece of furniture he’d gotten with Natalia the day prior. “What?”

“The couch,” Eddie repeated, with a quirk of his eyebrow. “You bought my exact couch.”

“No,” Buck replied with a shake of his head. “No, it’s definitely different.”

read on ao3

Eddie looked at it—a three-seater in dark blue, velvet-y fabric with square corners and deep seats to accommodate his long legs. They’d picked out some nice white decorative pillows for it, and it’s certainly brand-new looking, but—

“It’s totally the same.” Eddie gave up on hiding his smile.

Buck looked back to the couch, tilting his head to scrutinize it. After a moment, he sighed, planting his hands on his hips. “Ah, fuck. It’s totally the same.”

Eddie groaned, letting his head thump back onto the edge of the cot behind him. “The pain meds are definitely kicking in.”

“Well, good,” snarked Buck from a chair next to him, attention half-focused on his phone in his hands. “That’s what they’re supposed to do.”

Eddie sighed, long-suffering. “You too?”

“Yes, Eddie, me too.” Buck replied, thumbs flying as he tapped out something on the screen in his hands. Probably to Maddie. Probably about Chim. Who was probably okay. “Your ribs are fucking broken.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, staring at the ceiling. “And I know what they feel like. I’m fine, there was—other stuff going on.” He thought about that paramedic from the 133 shining a penlight into Hen’s eyes, frowning like he didn’t like the results and going back in to do it again. He thought about the constant jitter of Buck’s leg next to him, the constant worry for Bobby and Chimney who’d taken the other two ambulances before the three of them had managed to squeeze into another cab. “Besides,” Eddie pulled himself back on track. “Did you even get checked out?” He leveled Buck with a look that he hoped had more energy behind it than he had left.

Buck shrugged, powering off his phone with a click. “I’m fine.”

“There’s blood all over your face,” Eddie pointed out.

“Hen cleaned most of it up already.”

“There was more?”

“That’s—Eddie, I’m fine,” Buck said, turning towards him. “I scraped up my cheek and bit my tongue when I fell, and, sure, I’ll be a little bruised, but I’m fine.”

“You lost consciousness,” Eddie pointed out, and he swallowed around a dry throat.

“How… how did you know that?” Buck stuttered in reply.

Eddie gave his own shrug, picking at the edge of the right kneepad on his turnout pants. “I didn’t pass out. I radioed right after I’d gotten my bearings, but no one answered. Then, like, thirty seconds later you must have woken up.”

Buck, for a moment, held Eddie’s gaze with something so unbelievably devastated, and guilty—like the thought of not being able to answer Eddie’s call was the worst possible thing that had happened that day. Then he flicked his eyes down to the floor. “Okay, s-so, like, thirty seconds. I’m fine, Eddie. Really.”

Eddie frowned, thinking about those thirty seconds—an unbearable weight on his back, a growing pain in his chest, and the clawing panic as he listened to the silence stretching out on the other side of the radio and fought the mounting urge to plead, I’m still alive, please, I’m still alive down here.

And then how he’d breathed a hugely painful sigh of relief when Buck finally asked for a headcount, how he’d fumbled into his pocket for his St. Christopher medal and prayed—something he hadn’t done since that awful week of the coma. Prayed that he’d come home safe to his son, but also that Buck would be careful—that he wouldn’t do something stupid and destructive and reckless to save any of them.

That heady rush of gratitude when Buck had sawed the doors open, taking off his safety goggles and assessing Eddie’s situation with a calculating, heavy gaze.

Next to him, Buck cleared his throat, shifting in the chair. “Anyway, you broke three ribs, man. Let the meds do their job.”

Eddie huffed a laugh, leaning back into the pillows behind him. “Trust me, they are.”

Eddie sipped his Diet Coke, beer off-limits because he was still taking the Tylenol threes. “So, you finally got a new couch.”

“I had a couch before,” Buck pointed out, a matching soda in his hand for solidarity. “Kameron just—y’know, gave birth all over it.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, snorting a soft laugh. “That must have been wild.”

Buck chuckled. “The baby didn’t want to wait, I guess.”

“Impatient little guy,” Eddie said. “Must be those Buckley genes.”

“Hey,” Buck protested, pointing a finger. “I can be plenty patient.”

“Sure,” Eddie agreed placatingly, but be noticed how there seemed to be something more behind the mirth in Buck’s eyes—the plastic pieces at the edges of his smile. He fought the urge to say I told you so—mostly because it would have been childish, but also because Buck hadn’t asked for his opinion at any step of the way, and Eddie hadn’t offered.

Eddie decided to wait him out—usually the best course of action when it came to Buck. Eddie understood intimately how much time it could take to parse through a mess of feelings in your brain and formulate them into words that would make sense to another person. Usually, Eddie would sit quietly and sip his beer while watching Buck’s feelings play out on his unguarded face, and after a minute or two Buck would haltingly begin to explain what had been going on with him.

Eddie had tried to explain that to Maddie when they’d both been nearly sick with worry over Buck’s post-coma mental state. “He’ll come to you when he’s ready,” Eddie had said over the phone. “You can’t force him to talk about it.”

“Eddie, you don’t know him like I do,” Maddie had protested. “He shouldn’t be alone right now.”

And Eddie had opened his mouth to say no, actually, I know him better than you, I know him better than anyone, but—that’s not true, is it? Why would Eddie know Buck better than his own sister, who’s spent the entire thirty years of his life caring for him, when Eddie’s only had him for—what, five years? Then subtract all the things they didn’t talk to each other about and all the issues they’ve had, and—yeah, who is Eddie to say what’s best for Buck?

And then Buck had knocked on his door and passed out on his couch and Eddie had felt righteously vindicated in a way that he almost wanted to rub in Maddie’s face, which was kind of bitchy of him to think.

So, Buck sipped his soda next to Eddie on his new couch, a storm of emotions clear on his face, and Eddie waited him out because that’s what he does.

Buck let out a sigh, and Eddie thought, here it is, he’ll let me in, and then— “Want to watch the Dodgers game?”

Eddie blinked. “Um, sure.”

And Buck turned on the TV.

Doubt roiled in Eddie’s gut.

“What about Hen?” Eddie asked, Buck’s hand tight on his arm as he helped him into the passenger seat of the Jeep.

“Karen already took her home, she’s fine,” Buck replied easily, before he shut the door and rounded the front of the car.

He’d left when Eddie had been taken back for x-rays, taking an Uber back to the station to pick up his car so he could come back to get Eddie and drive them both home. Eddie absently wondered when he would get a chance to get his truck from the station parking lot.

Buck hopped into the driver’s seat, fitting his keys in the ignition but pausing before turning the engine. He fixed Eddie with a gentle, reassuring look. “Seriously, man, everyone’s fine. Athena’s with Bobby, Maddie’s with Chim, let’s go home.”

Eddie swallowed, biting the inside of his cheek as he thought about just how close literally every single one of them except Ravi had come to something far more serious than some hospital bills and time off work.

His gaze slid to Buck, who flashed him that small, soft, close-mouthed smile that Eddie rarely saw—the one that made his chest feel warm and gooey.

“Okay. Let’s go home.”

The Dodgers were losing, and Buck wasn’t talking about it. Eddie tried not to either of those things get to him.

During a commercial break, Buck got up to throw their empty pizza boxes away, waving Eddie off as he moved to help.

When he came back into the living room, he paused under the overhang of the loft, just staring at Eddie.

“What?” he asked, a bit self-conscious.

Buck huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I bought your couch.”

Eddie snorted. “Don’t worry about it, man. It’s flattering. You think I have good taste.”

Buck raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know if that’s it. Half the furniture in your house is from Target.”

Eddie sputtered. “I—what’s wrong with Target furniture?”

Buck, lowering himself back onto the cushions next to Eddie, raised his hands in a show of innocence. “Nothing, man. I just—I don’t know if I would call it good taste.”

Having no comeback, Eddie just whacked him in the shoulder.

Buck laughed, playfully pushing his hand away. “Hey, c’mon, don’t start shit when I can’t retaliate.”

Eddie smirked. “Why? ‘Cause you know you can’t take me?”

“No,” Buck denied. “’Cause your ribs are still fucking broken.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, Buck.”

“Well.” Buck crossed his arms, turning back to the TV as the next inning started. “Forgive me for wanting to be careful.”

For a moment, Eddie considered saying hey, maybe we should talk about how I could’ve almost died again? But Buck clearly wasn’t in the mood to talk about the big things, and Eddie didn’t really want to think about that yet either, so he settled for bumping their shoulders together.

Buck leaned right back into him, and neither of them moved apart—the comforting warmth of the contact buzzing in Eddie’s brain like the alcohol he wasn’t drinking.

Eddie smiled down at his hands. “You like my couch,” he teased.

“Yeah, yeah,” Buck groused, slouching into the cushions as they watched a batter swing and miss yet again. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Are you sure you’re both alright?” Carla asked, a worried hand hovering over his elbow. “I caught some of the collapse on the news.”

Eddie flashed her a smile before turning to pour two glasses of water—one for him and one for Buck, who was off in Christopher’s room. “We’re okay,” he said. “A little banged up, but the doctors said I should be back to work in six weeks or less.”

Carla narrowed her eyes. “You better take that full six weeks.”

Eddie set the Brita down and met her gaze. “I’m fine, Carla. Really.”

She sighed, crossing her arms. “I just—I worry about you, Eddie. Okay? I know you’d rather I didn’t, but I can’t help it.”

Eddie ducked his head and smiled, a bit, filled with that familiar half-disbelief that people really do care about him. “I know it doesn’t look like it, but—I was lucky today. That nothing worse happened, that—that Buck was there to pull me out.”

Carla scoffed. “Of course he was. I don’t think luck had anything to do with that one.”

Eddie tried to fight the blush off his cheeks—he didn’t know what to do with that. Carla’s surety that Buck would save him come hell or high water. His own surety that Buck would be ripping open the doors of that camper van any second now.

When she realized he wasn’t going to say anything, Carla cleared her throat. “I should go. You up for a hug?”

“From you?” Eddie responded easily. “Always.”

Carla pulled him into a gentle-but-still-desperate embrace. “Okay, I’ll get out of your hair.” With a frown, she brought a hand up to ruffle the wilting mess on Eddie’s head. “Your dusty-ass hair. Take a shower, alright?”

Eddie laughed. “Alright, alright.”

“It’s a little early for a welcome back party, don’t you think?” Eddie said as Athena hugged him in greeting, Christopher heading off in search of the other kids.

“You and Bobby are headed back tomorrow,” Athena pointed out.

“Yeah, and Chimney’s not back for another two weeks.”

“And you best believe I’ll throw another party for him.”

Eddie laughed, before venturing further into the house to greet everyone else. His ribs had healed perfectly, barely a twinge when he’d thrown himself onto the couch in triumph yesterday. Which—speaking of, Eddie’s phone was burning a hole in his pocket and he was doing a very good job of ignoring that.

Or, he was, until a lull in conversation found him standing alone in the kitchen and pulling it out of his jeans. No texts. Which—of course, they’d agreed to go for coffee after his shift on Friday, why would she text him before that—but, still. Eddie was nervous. Sue him.

His thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment while he debates if it’s too much of a desperate move to text Marisol before they even go on a date. Christopher would know.

“Who are you texting?” asked a voice, and Eddie fumbled to turn off his phone and shove it in his pocket before someone could see… what?

He looked up to see Buck smiling at his antics, a beer in hand.

“Oh, it’s you,” Eddie sighed, leaning against the counter.

Buck sidled over to join him, staring out the windows at the backyard where the party was in full swing. “Just me. Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine,” Eddie replied, for some reason hoping desperately that Buck wouldn’t ask him about—

“So,” Buck nudged an elbow into his arm. “Who were you texting?”

—fuck. Eddie wasn’t sure why this felt like something he didn’t want to tell Buck, to whom he tells everything, but… they don’t really talk about their girlfriends? It was always, always awkward, and it always left him with a sour taste in his mouth.

But, Eddie’s excited about this. Marisol probably won’t be the one, or whatever, but—still. Eddie was excited that his brain was finally in a place where he could think about opening up his life to someone and it wouldn’t send him into a panic attack that landed him in the ER.

And Buck asked.

And Eddie’s not in the habit of saying no to him.

“Um,” he started. “Do you remember Marisol? From the—”

“—yeah, yeah!” Buck cut him off. “So, you were texting her?” He raised his eyebrows, a knowing glint in his gaze.

Eddie blushed. “Yeah, uh… we’re going on a date?” he said quietly, a pit of dread or something similar opening in his gut.

Buck was quiet for a moment, and Eddie risked a glance at his face. He just caught the edge of something shocked and maybe fearful in his expression before it cleared and was replaced by one of those huge, sunny smiles.

“Eddie!” Buck exclaimed. “That’s great! Oh my god, man, this is awesome,” he enthused, slinging an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and squeezing him close.

“Yeah,” Eddie chuckled, still unsure why part of him felt sick with guilt.

“Hey, ever notice how we always start dating at the same time?”

“No, do we?” Eddie lied, thinking about how he’d agonized over making the call and kept telling himself Buck’s with Natalia now, you should do this.

Buck laughed again, before he jolted with surprise and turned to Eddie, excitedly slapping him on the arm. “Dude! We can go on double dates now!”

Eddie frowned. “We didn’t last time.”

Buck shrugged. “Well, you didn’t like Taylor, so I figured—”

“I liked Taylor,” Eddie protested.

Buck snorted. “Uh, no, you didn’t.”

Eddie tilted his head in a you-got-me face. “I kind of didn’t. I thought you didn’t notice.”

Buck dropped his arm around Eddie’s shoulders again, making Eddie huff out a breath. “Oh, Edmundo, I always notice.”

No you don’t, Eddie thought, and then he ignored that.

“But,” Buck continued, a hesitation in his voice. “You—you like Natalia, right?”

Eddie didn’t really know her at all, except for how excited she’d been about Buck’s death-that-didn’t-stick and how angry that had made him. “Yeah,” Eddie lied again. “She’s good for you. And she has good taste in couches.”

Buck laughed, relieved. “Good. So—we’ll do a double date, yeah? Me, you, Natalia, Marisol.”

Fuck, no. Eddie thought. That sounds awful.

“Yeah, sure,” Eddie said instead. “That sounds great.”

Eddie was in the kitchen, pre-heating the oven to heat up some frozen chicken tenders because he didn’t have the energy to cook anything else when he felt little arms wrap gently around his midsection. It hurt his ribs, but Eddie didn’t have the heart to dislodge his son—not when these hugs were becoming rarer and rarer each day.

“Hey, kid,” Eddie said, turning in the hold and dropping a hand onto Christopher’s head. “What’s up?”

Eddie had already seen him, when he popped his head into Christopher’s room to find him sitting with Buck, a careful hand brushing the wounds on the man’s cheek. The sight had made something massive and unknowable bloom inside Eddie’s broken chest, threatening to choke him. He’d tamped it down and hugged Chris hello before heading off to shower, but apparently that hadn’t been enough.

Chris looked up, propping his chin on Eddie’s sternum. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, a tightness in his voice betraying him.

Eddie smiled. “Me too.” Even though it sparked the ache in his side into a bona-fide pain, Eddie leaned over to drop a kiss onto Christopher’s head—something he barely tolerates anymore. “Hey, the doctors said I’d be good as new in six weeks. Think you can deal with having me around all the time for that long?”

Chris laughed, bright and happy, and Eddie’s heart sang. “I’ll try,” he joked, and then something clouded passed over his face. “Buck’s okay, too, right? His face is bloody.”

“Oh, buddy,” Eddie sighed. Usually, he would kneel down to meet Christopher’s gaze, but he settled for easing himself into a chair and ignoring the concerned look Chris was giving him. “Buck’s totally fine, he just got scraped up a little bit. And today was pretty—pretty scary. For both of us.” He swallowed down the urge to berate himself for telling his kid he was scared, and it seemed to be the right move, because Chris nodded along with wide, careful eyes.

Eddie sighed again, settling his hands on his son’s shoulders. “But—tell you what. Buck’s gonna stay with us tonight, and he’s pretty bad at taking care of himself, right?” Chris giggled at that, and Eddie smiled in response. “So you and I are gonna have to be sneaky about taking care of him tonight, okay?”

Eddie expected Chris to give another sweet smile, and maybe to offer some comfort so earnest and childlike in its innocence that it made everything in the world feel right again, so he wasn’t quite sure to do when Chris burst out into loud, raucous laughter.

“Okay, what’s so funny?” he said, playing at being annoyed.

“It’s just,” Chris managed through his massive smile. “That’s exactly what Buck said. About you!”

Eddie just blinked in response, and Chris fell into peals of laughter again. “Okay,” Eddie said with mock-offense. “Okay, I see how it is. Gang up on the injured guy, why don’t you.”

“Da-ad,” Chris whined, fixing him with a very grown-up look. “We just care about you.”

Eddie pursed his lips, that unknown emotion threatening to drown him again. “Yeah,” he said, more choked-up than he would like. “I know.”

A small hand covered his, and Eddie flipped his own over to give it a squeeze. “Why don’t you go put on the next episode of María, okay? We’ll translate for Buck.”

Chris smirked. “You mean you’ll translate for Buck.”

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short, kid,” Eddie offered as Chris disappeared into the living room.

And later, when they were all piled on the couch, Christopher giggling at Eddie’s half-assed translations and Buck protesting that he understands more Spanish than you think, guys, the newest dose of pain meds forced upon him by Buck making his head more than a bit fuzzy, Eddie thought to himself: I wish it could be like this forever.

Buck shouted in exaggerated outrage to make Chris laugh, gesturing at some ridiculous plot point playing out on the screen, and Eddie let that huge wave of feeling bowl him over—that world-ending, all-consuming love.

Just this. Forever.

“Hold on, let me get this straight,” Hen said, a hand raised to keep Eddie quiet. “He has this whole thing about his girlfriends being couches, and the couch he finally bought is your couch?”

Feeling somehow embarrassed, Eddie just nodded. Hen shared a smirk with Chimney, sitting on the lawn chair that Maddie hadn’t let him move from for the entire party.

“That’s like—almost romantic,” Chimney snorted.

“What?” Eddie said.

“He’s been looking for the perfect couch, but it was yours all along!” Chim crowed, and Hen dissolved into giggles. She was definitely more than a little drunk.

“It’s so sweet, Eddie, come on,” she needled.

“Well, sure, but—” Eddie sputtered. “—romantic? Come on, guys.”

“No, you—you come on.” Hen said around a hiccup. “You guys are—Buck and Eddie! Eddie and Buck!”

“Yeah,” Eddie replied with a frown. “And you guys are Hen and Chim.”

“Nah, no, no, no,” Chim said with a wagging finger. “It’s not the same.”

“How is it not the same?” Eddie threw his hands in the air, one hampered by the half-full bottle in his hand. “You guys are partners, just like us.”

“Yeah, but,” Hen said. “You guys are partners,” she explained, trying for some hand gesture that must have gotten lost in the all the alcohol and rush of the party because she just ended up clasping her hands together awkwardly.

“You guys are crazy,” Eddie said with a long-suffering shake of his head.

“And you’re crazy about Buck,” Hen said in an it’s-so-obvious whisper.

Eddie drew back. “What?”

“Hen—” Chimney started, a hand on her arm.

She shook him off. “No, I gotta—Eddie, you and Buck are like, perfect for each other. You love him, right?” Her eyes were wide and earnest behind her glasses.

“Of course I do,” Eddie said automatically.

Hen gestured emphatically, whacking Chim on the shoulder like this proved her point.

“Hen,” Eddie said gently. “Did you forget that I’m straight?”

Hen scowled, like she did not want to be reminded of this fact. “Okay, but like—if Buck was a girl, you would have asked him out by now. You’d be like—fucking married by now.”

Eddie opened his mouth to respond, but found his mind stuck on Hen’s words. If Buck was a girl. Him and Buck, married. Eddie felt far drunker than he should be off just one and a half beers.

“Eddie, ignore her,” Chim cut in.

Hen frowned. “I’m going to find Karen,” she declared.

Eddie watched her retreating form, unsticking his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “He’s my best friend,” he said belatedly.

“Eddie.” Chimney kicked his leg. “Ignore her, okay? She’s drunk.”

“Yeah, but—” Eddie started.

“Look,” Chim sighed. “We joke about you and Buck sometimes, okay?”

“You do?” Eddie asked.

“Little stuff,” Chimney assured. “Just, like, you’re each other’s favorite person and you’re missing what’s right in front of you, or whatever.”

Eddie opened his mouth to respond, to refute—what?—but Chim continued.

“But they’re just jokes, okay? We know you’re both straight. I mean, it’d be great if you weren’t, or whatever, but that’s not the world we live in.”

Eddie’s jaw closed with a click. He sipped his beer.

“He’s your best friend.” Eddie looked back to Chimney. “And that’s—” He seemed to search Eddie’s face for a moment. “That’s enough, right?”

Eddie swallows. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Exactly,” Chim agreed with an easy smile. “So, don’t worry about it, okay? She’s just drunk and forgot that we don’t make those jokes in front of you guys.”

Eddie nodded. “Right. Besides, Buck has a girlfriend, and—I have a date on Friday, so…”

“You have a date on Friday?” Chimney exclaimed. “That’s great!”

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed, voice flat.

Chimney clapped him on the forearm, unable to reach his shoulder from his sitting position. “Look, man, you’ll find that perfect girl-version of Buck out there, okay? I believe.”

Eddie chuckled. “Sure.”

He looked out to the party—his eyes immediately found Buck, head thrown back in laughter at something Athena had said. The string lights of the backyard made his styled curls shine with a honey-colored fire, his fingers curled carelessly around the neck of a beer bottle made Eddie’s mouth feel suddenly dry.

Just this. Just you, Eddie thought.

“You’re right,” he said to Chimney with a hollow smile. “I’ll find someone.”

#I'M BACK BABY #ofc i HAD to write a coda for this one come on #if this gets interaction i'll probably post on ao3 bc it's pretty long so i'll come back and edit this post if that's the case #anyway i have a LOT of wips that i'm planning on finishing and i want to be more active on here/make some friends #so drop a follow if you want to see any of that lol #anyway this was just a fun little thing that i hope y'all enjoy! #911 #911 fic #911 fanfic #911 6x18 #911 6x18 coda #writing #drabbles #even though it's not really a drabble i want it with the rest of my codas #evan buck buckley #eddie diaz #buddie

[bigfan-fanfic]

The Clinic (Male!Reader x Mafia!Bucky and Steve)

Requested by @jayfeather965 for Your response to the captain and batdad ask has my creative juices flowing. The captain and iron arm Barnes are equal partners in a mafia, lovers and stuff. But then one of them, Bucky or Steve gets shot and separated from from the gang. Ends up going to a street clinic, with doctors who don’t ask questions. And naturally he’s fascinated by the doctor who helps him but calls him out for his arrogant attitude and takes no nonsense. Could you write a long story on this? Lmk please

Trigger warning blood, crime, mob au, etc.

"Babe."

"Yeah, boss?"

"You're thinking about him, aren't you?"

The Captain grips Barnes' chin in his fingers, tilting up his face. Barnes knows better than to resist.

Barnes is shirtless, the bandages wrapped around his chest and over his shoulder where he had been shot. His cheekbones still have the stitches in them.

The Captain is impeccably dressed, their states incongruous.

"What can I say, pal? It's hard to find a man that ain't afraid of me."

The Captain lets go, grabs the tumbler of whiskey in Barnes' hand, and tosses it aside.

It shatters in the fireplace and the alcohol makes the fire burst in a roar, but neither man hears it, because they are locked in a bruising, harsh kiss.

Barnes' hands frame the Captain's waist as the big man straddles him, clutching Barnes' face, his thumb brushing over the not-quite-healed gash in a way that is painful, but also grounding.

Cap growls, knowing that even with the pretext of healing, another man has touched what is his.

Only Barnes has been able to calm the raging beast inside him, this thing that makes him the most feared boss in the city, The Captain, and his iron right hand, Iron-Arm Barnes.

But maybe he's too hard. Like a callus that grows from overuse and dulls sensation. Maybe this sawbones has a tender touch Barnes has been missing.

For his part, Barnes has always been given to obsession. If the Cap had never had that growth spurt and hit the gym like a train crash, Barnes knew he'd have taken him. The little punk would be his precious little pet instead of his boss. But they would be together no matter what.

For Barnes, his blood wasn't his own, it flowed in the Cap's veins. So there wasn't a question of loving instead. They were parts of the same organism.

Barnes remembers you.

He dragged himself to your clinic after being shot, after his men had gotten away and he had been left for dead.

It's attractive, he won't lie, to see a man cool in a crisis. You get him on a table, strip him of his dirty and bloodstained clothes without a hint of lust or a sneak at his body, and you get to work picking shrapnel out of sensitive areas and stitching him up.

Barnes waits for a while after he wakes up post-op, knowing that he's not at full strength, before he reaches for his gun.

And you slip it out of his reach.

"No guns in my clinic."

"Do you know who I fucking am, sweetheart?"

"I don't care who you are. Bullets left at the door, or I let you bleed out on the floor."

"So much for the damn Hippocratic Oath."

"Fuck you. I have my license, and I don't ask questions. So maybe lose the attitude."

"Touché, sweetheart."

"Wipe that grin off your face. You lost a lot of blood."

"You gonna pump me full of morphine?"

"Bold of you to assume we have that kind of funding. The bullet passed through you clean. We're gonna need to change your bandages regularly for the next ten hours or so, and you're out of commission the next six weeks, at least."

"Really? I feel like a million bucks. A million bucks with a big hole in it."

You shake your head and take his gun, locking him in the room behind you.

"You gonna call the cops?"

Nope. That's not what you did.

"Name's Bucky."

You didn't tell him yours.

He talks incessantly, you answer some questions, remain silent for others

By the time the next morning rolls around, he's head over heels. "You're a shithead, Bucky. I don't wanna see you in here again, OK?"

He can hear the concern in your voice. You don't want him injured like that again. There's a connection there. A dangerous man, the battlefield angel.

And now he wants. And he wants his other half to want too.

They break their steamy kiss. It was a claiming, but Barnes is already owned.

"You still love me?"

"To the end of the line, pal. Never a question."

"You want the sawbones?"

"I'm yours, punk."

"Not what I asked."

"I want him."

"Then you'll have him."

"We."

The Cap grins. "I never met a guy with more heart. You think I have it in me to not get murderously jealous?"

Barnes kisses him. "Stevie, you're gonna be as head over heels as me. We're a team."

"I don't get you, pal, but I love you more than life."

"Then let's get us a sawbones."

#male reader #bucky barnes x male reader #steve rogers x male reader #steve rogers x reader #steve x bucky x reader #marvel headcanons #headcanons #marvel x male reader

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

LoverMan

Requested?: No/Yes

Notes: I genuinely hate how this turned out but eh

I'm Mister Loverman…

You were woken up abruptly by flashing lights, a snap of a camera as you groaned, opening your eyes as they fought to close again.

You only kept them open as you heard Bills giggle. A corner of your mouth fought to smile as you looked up, riddled with sleep but hearing your boyfriends joy made you curious.

"What are you doing…?" You mumbled, rubbing your eyes and stretching your arm over your head as Bill was sitting up, camera in hand.

"Nothing." Bill denied, but the smile on his face gave him away.

So did another flash of the camera, capturing a picture of us looking up at him with a beautiful and amused smile on your face making you look just right.

"You're so weird." You laughed, covering the camera lens with your hand as you leaned up towards him to try and capture a kiss.

"But I'm just the most perfect boyfriend ever, huh?" Bill teased, smirking as he leaned his face close to yours as you laughed.

You wrapped an arm around his neck as he smiled, hiding into your neck as he kissed onto the soft skin.

"Yeah, yeah, my perfect little loverman." You mumbled and raked your fingers through his hair. Bill heard the smile as he hummed, playfully nipping at your jaw.

"Mhmm? LoverMan? I like it…" Bill said, getting a smile from you as he nestled into your side, leaving the photo of his lover on the nightstand.

And I miss my lover, man…

Bill had lost his breath, sitting on the floor of his hotel room, back against the bed as he got the news with the phone still against his ear.

He got the call an hour ago.

But moving made it feel like it wasn't real.

But it was real. You were dead

The realization hit finally, Bill's phone slipped from his fingers, hitting the floor as the tears welled.

Bill breathes heavily, sobbing violently suddenly, sobs wracking through his form as he struggles to stand.

He looked around the room with blurred eyes at the now cleaned room. He put your stuff away, moving it from where you left it.

What was meant to be a little surprise for you having not to clean now made him sick.

He erased the last little traces of you.

It didn't take long for grief to morph into something Bill couldn't explain, sobbing as he started trashing the place.

He threw stuff off the bed, sifting through it as almost looking for traces of you before he resorted to throwing shit at the walls.

"No, no, no, no!" Bill kept yelling out as he threw shit, destroying anything he could get his hands on in the moment to feel anything but the truth.

Next door was Tom, who came running quickly as he threw open the door to Bills, and previously, your room.

Tom had gotten the news barely, somehow not even being reached by anyone until not, and only heard his brother breaking things.

"Hey! Stop, Bill!" Tom yelled, stepping over broken chairs and glass and whatever Bill threw.

It was like Bill didn't hear him or see his brother coming at him, still throwing everything he could touch.

"Stop!" Tom said, grabbing Bill by his arms as he tried to break something else.

Bill was crying heavily, tears down his face as he sobbed over and over again.

Bill was taken to the floor, held by his brother by his arms as he cried, leaning onto his brother in the moment as he couldn't process that you were no longer there.

"They fucking died…I let them go and they died." Bill cried out, clawing onto Tom's jacket and sobbing as Tom did his best.

Tom kept his brother steady, tears in his own eyes as he griever the loss of you, a friend he had grown up with and would continue to grow, just without youm

"I know, Bill. Fuck, I know." Tom nodded, mumbling as he held his brother, face scrunched as he tried to be strong, but gave up on that soon after as he started crying with his brother.

Bill couldn't even look at Tom, forced to stare at the now broken glass, only to see a photo.

Bill cried even more as he saw your smiling face at him, encased in the only photo he had left of you.

Bill sobbed even more, grieving his lover he would now remember for longer then he had known.

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

@lyzit @cyb3rlex @billysjumbie @billsjumbie95 @bigbootahjudy @ilovebill-and-gustav @r3dheadedw0rld @V4mpyboyy @novaaisstupid @billybabeskaulitz @yas-v @iischafer @dilfverz @ahswhore0 @graciegizmo3184 @sweetpuffy12 @80s-tingz @ryiana @yuriayato5 @bunnysenpai31 @banshailey @bellastoner420 @victryzvv9 @stxngnr @killed-kiss @stilesandjames @m00nzyblogs @sylisan

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel imagine #tokio hotel x reader #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz imagines #bill kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz

[catofthecanals289]

all the lights

a maxiel drabble for my beloved @lilyrizzy Happy Birthday, the world is suhc a wonderful place simply for having you in it. I love you so much. (contains medical stuff and mpreg [sort of, it’s complicated])

The answer is no. It was ’no’ twenty minutes ago and it’s still a no now.

Daniel doesn’t want to leave. He is not going to leave, that’s what he told them when they asked for the first time, the second time, but the third –

“Sir,” the nurse or midwife or doctor, Daniel doesn’t know, doesn’t care says, having sat down on the chair next to him. “Surgery will take a bit longer still, you are not missing anything by going up to the unit. But you are missing something by stay here. Please, consider.”

What’s there to consider? Daniel doesn’t ask.

He presses his lips together, tilts his face away, fixing his eyes on a spot on the floor. His leg keeps bouncing, his hands clam and sweaty, grasping each other. His heart hasn’t stopped hammering against his ribs for hours. Not since he woke up to Max’s panicked voice, finding blood between his legs.

Days have passed since that moment, but according to the clock, it’s not even been two hours.

“Sir,” the woman says again, brows drawn together when Daniel glances at her.

“Max’s here. So I’m here,” he says tightly, voice feeling rough, unused.

Has he spoken since they took Max from him? Since they wheeled him into the operating room? Since he called Max’s name, desperate, and Max turned his head, skin pale, eyes wide. He’d opened his mouth but the door had shut before he could.

“And your daughters are upstairs,” the woman pushes.

Daniel –grimacing, eyes squeezed shut- nods. “Yeah, well.”

“They need you.”

“Right.”

He shakes his head, lips pinched together.

“They do.”

“For what?” he looks at her again and he can tell she’s taken aback by his cutting tone, but-

She puts her hand on his shoulder, a small, cautious smile on her lips, eyes almost pleading. “You’re their dad. They need you.”

“I’m- Right, yeah. No. I-” He shakes his head again, leg bouncing, heart racing. He can’t fucking look at her. She must think he’s a terrible person and maybe he is. Maybe he’s been a terrible person throughout this entire pregnancy but- “I need to be here. I need – Max.”

He gestures in the direction of the operating room.

They weren’t ready. This wasn’t supposed to happen. So soon. And not like this.

32 weeks, that was the goal. 32 weeks so the babies would be big enough to not- So they’d be stronger. Their lungs, and- And so much. Daniel listened to the doctors, he swears he’d listened, but- They have a calendar at home at the fridge and just the day before yesterday Daniel crossed off the 28 week mark. They only just-

Max had watched from the bed, directing Daniel, handing him the marker, hand on his bump and he’d told Daniel, when Daniel had counted the weeks that were left and only gotten paler, that everything would be okay. That he was excited to meet them. Their girls. And wasn’t Daniel?

But Daniel is a terrible fucking person and all he wanted, all he wants now, is for Max to be okay.

“We can make a new one,” he’d told Max when they first found out, terrified and confused beyond anything. “We just- Max. Max, c’mon. Please.”

He’d wanted an abortion. They’d told them it was safest. That Max- Max’s body wasn’t made for this. He had the parts, yes and none of them fucking knew until- But his body wasn’t fucking meant to do this. It was dangerous. He could die. None of the do doctors, none, none of the experts and specialist-

But Max had wanted to try, hadn’t wanted to make a new baby through surrogacy, or have one by adoption. He’d wanted this. Their miracle baby, growing inside his body against all odds and logic. And Daniel had nodded and said “okay,” and there were moments where he’d thought he could do this, could be a dad. But he was wrong. He was so fucking wrong. He can’t do any of this. There is still blood on his hands and if Max dies-

“Wouldn’t Max want you to at least go see them?” the woman asks voice even gentler now, and fuck, Daniel has to wipe at his eyes again. “When he gets out of surgery, he’ll want to hear how they are doing.”

“You can tell him,” Daniel croaks, tasting salt on his lips.

He doesn’t know shit anyway. Even if he went to see the girls, he- What does he know? Jack shit. He doesn’t- They don’t even have names yet. They couldn’t decide and now-

“He’ll want to hear it from you,” she insists, and she’s right, but-

“He might fucking die,” he says, trying and failing to smile. “He might not ever hear anything I tell him ever fucking again, so-”

“So all the more reason to,” she cuts him off. “Sir, there really is nothing you can do here right now. But you can do this.”

 He can’t. He really, really can’t. Every step he takes makes him feel more sick. He’s lead through a corridor. A door, another door, another corridor. There are signs and numbers and he can’t read any of them, can’t look at the pictures on the walls a t the people they pass, not that there are many. It’s still- The sun hasn’t even risen yet, it’s not-

“Congratulations, c’mon in,” a woman, smaller than the one before says, kind smile on her lips, paired with her words it feels almost mocking though.

He stares at her and right, they are in front of a door, two names written on colorful cards.

Verstappen 1, Verstappen 2.

“What-” he says, gesturing to the cards.

“Oh, because there weren’t names yet. Or have you picked?” the woman says.

Her name tag ready Hailey, Daniel can’t remember if she told him or when he’s been handed over to her, his head is still spinning and he’s pretty sure he might throw up.

“We- No. We hadn’t- We thought we still had time, I-“

“That’s okay, don’t worry,” she says, offering another smile. “Lots of parents haven’t decided on names yet when it’s baby time. Even if it’s full term pregnancies. Just tell us when you know, yes? Now.” Her smile widens a little. “Would you like to meet your daughters?”

“Just- I need to go back downstairs?” he says, turning to look where- but he doesn’t know. Which direction was he- How is he going to get back? He doesn’t-

There’s the nurses’ station right there, eyes on him, whispers.

“Well, how about we just go in and I introduce you, yeah?” Hailey says, unperturbed. “Now, I need you to take off all jewellery on your arms and hands. Watches, bracelets, rings – that includes wedding rings. Then please wash your hands very thoroughly at the sink and then when your hands are dry disinfect them. This is very important you need to do that every time you come here. No exceptions. We also need to talk quietly. No loud noises in this room please.”

He nods.

She opens the door.

“So, the girls are doing well,” Hailey says, as they walk up to the first of the – the incubators. The lights are dim in the room, but there’s still some sort of blanket over it, but she removes it and then- “This is number 1. She and her sister both need some help breathing still, which is to be expected at 28 weeks. They are also very small for their gestational age, which we assume is due to the conditions, which- Well.”

She smiles, a little awkward now.

The conditions. She means Max’s womb. Max’s hormonal situation. The way the placenta attached, how it couldn’t- Max wasn’t made for this. Or not- Only sort of. Just- It wasn’t ideal. Not for Max or the babies. Just a fucking fuck up from nature and now Daniel is a father and so is Max but Max might die and there is a tiny little creature lying in a plastic box in front of him, stuff strapped to its little face, frail, twig like limbs tucked in close to its body, chest rising and falling so quickly, wires everywhere and-

“So she’s got 725 grams, and her sister is at 680 grams, which-”

“I don’t know what that means, I don’t-” He shakes his head, throat tight, stomach twisting.  

She’s- His- Their girl. She’s- She’s so fucking small, he doesn’t-

“Oh, 25.57 ounces,” Hailey explains. “That’s her. And our little lady over there, she’s got 23.98.”

“That’s-”Again he shakes his head, having to turn around. “That’s too small. That’s not- No. That’s-”

“That is very small, yes,” Hailey allows. “But, sir. Right now they are doing well and we are monitoring them. “They get some help breathing, but thanks to the RDS prophylaxis your- The mo- Your partner received their lungs are doing pretty well. The girls are both breathing on their own. They received surfactant already. No brain bleeds so far, and-”

“Okay, yeah, I- I gotta go back downstairs,” Daniel cuts in. “I’ve got to- Max- My partner, he is still in surgery, so.”

“Oh.” She blinks. “Oh, sure, yes, but, if you- Well, it would be so incredibly beneficial for your babies to get skin to skin contact? It’s- We call it kangaroo care and-”

Daniel laughs, he can’t help it. It’s a shrill, crazy little sound  and before Hailey can say anything there’s a cry.

A tiny, barely there, barely audible cry, coming from behind Daniel. Coming from  - her.

She-

Daniel turns around and there she is, her little miniature face twisted into a grimace, little mouth quivering and the sound she makes- IT shatters his heart-

“Oh, no, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, love,” he whispers quickly, desperately, hands flying, helpless in front of the plastic wall. “I’m- Shit. What-  Just- Because I’m Australian, I was-”

He looks at Hailey, terrified. She needs to do something, she needs- His little girl is crying. She’s crying and she’s just so small.

“It’s okay, you just startled her,” Hailey says softly. “The loud noise. It’s okay. We’ll just- You know she is still adapting. She’s not- We always say they need a little bit, to truly arrive, you know? To the world? Everything is so much for them. The noise, the light, everything. So we try our best to shield them, but positive stimulation is just as important as shielding them from negative one. And part of that is skin to skin. It’s- She needs you, sir. They both do.”

She’s still crying. It’s a pitiful little sound, not like the baby cries Daniel remembers form Isaac or Izzy or Leo.

“But Max-”

“Labor and delivery will call us,” Hailey says. “They’ll inform us and we’ll inform you. I promise. Now, please. It’s really, really so important for your babies. ”

 She tells him to take off his shirt. She puts him in a chair that reminds Daniel of a sun lounger except he’s not getting a tan. His heart is beating out of his chest. He’s lying there shirtless and terrified and Hailey and another nurse who introduced herself as Abby hand him tubes and wires and then- then There’s first one baby on his chest and then another. Two tiny little creatures. They tell him to hold him. Put his hands on their backs as they sort out the wires and tubes and everything and his fucking- One of his finger is bigger and longer than each of their legs and their hands-

“Are they- Is this-” This can’t be right. This can’t be- They are too small for him to hold, to lie on his chest and be covered by towels. They fucking- There’s a heating lamp, they need- “Shouldn’t they go back in the boxes?”

„The incubators?“ Abby asks, frowning. “Oh, no, not his is best for them. Skin to skin. With mom. Or dad. It’s the best for them really. Helps them stabilize their temperature and heartrate, breathing, everything.”

“Yeah, but-”

Daniel feels so helpless, useless. He’s just- He’s nothing, no one. He just- They don’t even know him. They grew inside Max, they know him, his heartbeat, his voice, Daniel just-

“They know your voice too,” Hailey says, almost like she’s read his mind. “So you can talk to them quietly. Sooth them if they need it.”

But they don’t. They are both quiet now. Both just there where the nurses put them on Daniel’s chest, bellies down, heads tilted towards each other, little hands on Daniel’s skin, it’s- It might be the most surreal thing Daniel has ever experienced. Three hours ago it was just him and Max in bed together and now he’s alone in a hospital room with their daughters and Max-

“Can you call?” he asks, keeping his voice low, despite its tremble. “Down to- Ask how he’s doing? Max? He-”

“Of course.”

 Two hours pass before the door opens again and it’s not just Hailey or Abby, but both of them as well as two other people in scrubs and a bed. A bed with Max inside and a number of things attached. IV pumps and stuff, Daniel thinks, but he has no eyes for any of that. Just Max. Max who seems to barely be able to tilt his head, looking around, looking for-

“Max,” Daniel croaks and on his chest one of the babies splays her fingers, almost making him choke up again. “Maxy, hey. Hi. How-”

“I’m okay,” Max croaks, voice hoarse and barely there, probably because of the tube they had shoved down his throat for surgery.

“He lost a lot of blood,” someone Daniel doesn’t know says. “And we are admitting him to the ICU so this is just for ten minutes tops, I’m sorry, but-”

“Let’s just sort this,” Hailey cuts in, smile on her face.

There’s a flurry of motion then, pushing around of equipment, adjusting tubes, wires, everything and it seems like a whole lot of work but Daniel doesn’t care because by the end of it they have somehow managed to fit Max’s bed next to the chair Daniel is in, the tubes of baby 2 sort of half under Max’s pillow who looks even paler than before, exhausted and only half awake.

“Hi,” he says, and his hand-

“I can’t,” Daniel whispers. It kills him not to reach out, not to take Max’s hand, but. “I got-”

“Oh,” May blinks and then Abby leans over pulling back the towels a bit so Max can see the girls. “They are so little.”

“Yeah.” Daniel nods, but he manages half a smile, tears gathering in his eyes again. “They are. and they’d really like names, I think. And meet their papa.”

“Oh,” Max says again. “Hi, babies. It is your papa.”

#maxiel fic #maxiel writing #i wrote this for my bestie #but yall can read it too if you want #some of you may know i have complicated thoughts on mpreg #this is how it works for me #and do not come for me becaus ehte nurse says upstairs and rules may dictate the NICU and labor and deliver yneed ot be on the same level #shhh #it sounded better in the dialogue

[chronically-ghosted]

Second Base.

rating: 18+

pairing: max phillips x f!reader

word count: 3712

summary: you try out second base; hand stuff only, but it changes things between you two, as much as you don't want it to.

warnings/tags: cute little outfits designed to drive max nuts, hand jobs (m and f receiving), more blood, fangs, one emotionally unavailable vampire

a/n: this contains one of my favorite lines i've ever written!

Prev | Next | Series Masterlist

🤍 Masterlist 🤍 Get notified when I post new works!

Second base.

Because you aren’t actual sadists or masochists, after the first bite, your sex life with Max went back to normal. Well, as normal as sex with an immortal creature of the night ever was in the first place. Okay – as normal as sex with an immortal creature of the night who is Max Phillips ever was in the first place. Which is to say, often, hard, and loud. It had been weeks since you’d seen that worried look of consternation, that sweet vulnerability he expressed, as if feeding on you might be the thing that kills you and not being railed against your couch for the better part of an entire day. Sometimes you wished he had much respect for your ability to walk upright as he did your jugular vein. 

On some level, you were aware that his recent overexuberance was in part due to that vulnerability. As if you might lift the curtain and find that the man behind it all might leave you wanting. Truly a frat boy at heart, Max struggled to express anything that couldn’t be summed up with the three “ings” – licking, sucking, and fucking, obviously – but now, he had been exposed as someone capable of those deeper feelings, as if he had been the one to split open a vein for you. And despite the heavenly glow you indulged in after the first bite, you really weren’t quite sure how you felt about it all. You hadn’t started dating Max with any illusions about who exactly he is. In fact, you might have started fucking him in the first place because it seemed wildly out of character that he or you would get attached at all – to anyone or anything. The dating thing just sort of happened, when you both came to the same conclusion at roughly the same time: no one else was really doing it for you, so why not? So what if you only directly referred to each other as boyfriend and girlfriend in the privacy of your own apartment, or his? So what if half of the office was entirely clueless about your relationship and the other half was actively placing “secret” bets about how long you two had been fucking? Annoyingly, Tim had been the one to be almost right: “six months ago, I’m telling you, man. That’s when he stopped eating secretaries and she got so much nicer.”

Technically, he stopped eating secretaries about a month into your relationship, and what Tim accidentally overheard was not him “eating” a “secretary”, but you weren’t about to correct him. But Max found it all hilarious: “he’s right, you’re so much nicer when that pussy has been taken care of. But I like it when you’re mean.” 

You actively choose not to think about what he meant by a “deep emotional connection” last time.

Fine, Phillips, I’ll show you how mean I can be.

“Nope, no, uh uh.” 

You put your hand just over the frilly blue lace on your hip. “I’m sorry, I don’t see the problem.” 

It had been about a month since first base and while Max had gotten notably more relaxed around you seeing him eat – he now occasionally walked around your apartment with his food in an opaque smoothie tumbler with a straw – he was still very strict about moving onto second base. 

Which, if left up to him, meant you’d be wearing a straight jacket and thick flannel pajamas. 

“Max, if we’re ever going to do this thing for real, you’re going to have to get used to seeing me naked. I’m not letting you fuck me and bite me while I’m in riot gear.”

“Okay, but, baby,” he whines and he can’t help himself from rubbing the satin bow above your crotch between his fingers. “You look like a birthday cake.” 

Is the baby blue lingerie with a strapless bra that catches around your biceps with white lace a bit overboard? Yes. But last time was ridiculous.

Max frowns, his visible pout morphing into something subtly dangerous as he realizes he can unpeel your bra with a string in the back. “Can’t I just fuck you normally in this and then we’ll try again later?”

You swat his hand away as it sneaks across your ribs. 

“No.” 

“You know, if I wasn’t already dead, I’d think you’re trying to kill me.” Smirking, he drops his hands down to your waist and, not so subtly, curves them around the mold of your ass. Distractedly, he slips one finger under the seam of your panties. You press your hands against his chest and blink up at him coyly. 

“Whatever gave you that impression.” 

He shakes his head, squeezing your ass once. “And I’m supposed to be the soulless demon with a heart of darkness.” 

“So you’ll do this?” 

With a sigh and his eyebrow jumping, he nods. “Yeah. Fine. Go get on the bed.”

Trying desperately not to squeal, you tear away from his arms and all but run and leap on top of the white towel. Max slips out of his shoes, and starts unbuttoning his shirt. You bite your lip, nerves humming in anticipation, as you sit up on your knees to watch him. To your enormous dismay, no matter how hard you worked, no matter how much spit or cum you used, you could not make him purr again. You’d had wet dreams on the idea alone of putting your head against his chest as he vibrated but he swore it was involuntary. “And,” he added as a way to soothe your ego, “I’m pretty sure it can only happen when I’m feeding.”

“Does it happen every time? Like with blood bags or back when you hunted people?”

“No,” was all he said about that.

Max slips his shirt off over his shoulders and goes to work unbuttoning his pants. When they slide off his hips, you frown. 

“The boxers with the hole in the waist? Ooh, baby, I’m so turned on when you make such an effort.” 

He rolls his eyes as he climbs in next to you. “Look, I didn’t think you’d be seeing my underwear and I need to do laundry.”

“You didn’t think I’d see your underwear in a situation where we’re going to specifically jerk each other off?”

Attempting some version of contrite, Max’s gaze falls from your face to your throat, to your clavicle, to your tits, pillowed up for him beneath the blue lace. He leans in as if pulled by magnets. 

“I’m sorry if I thought we’d both be a little more preoccupied.” 

His broad palm smooths across your thigh, around your hips, to just above your tailbone, his nose drawing indistinct lines from your shoulder to your ear. You sort of hate how quickly he can make you not irritated with him. You shift to take him into the cradle of your thighs, when he winds your panties up in his fingers and tugs. The gossamer material tightens just over the seam of your pussy, teasing your clit, you choke. That heated, teasing Max Phillips smirk spreads like hot butter across his lips. 

“What are the rules again?”

“Max,” you whine as you drag your nails over his chest and up his shoulders. But he hesitates, his hand knotting your underwear in his fist. One move and it’ll rub against you again.

“I’ll stop,” he murmurs in a half-sing-song voice. You huff.

“Silver. Bad touch, on your skin. Lightheaded or dizzy, I use the safeword. And,” you sigh. He’s so painfully handsome sometimes it hurts. He’d set out candles again, as if he needed any help in his seduction of you and he just sort of glows. You don’t know if it’s your anticipation or some vampire illusion, but every line on him is blurred. Soft, as if he doesn’t have your pleasure literally in his hands. There it comes again, that small bit of light in his eyes, the emergence of the early morning sun over the horizon. The way he looks at you makes your chest heavy. “And . . . only hand stuff,” you grumble. 

He chuckles, pouting at you in faux-sympathy as he reaches out, other hand wrapping around the back of your neck. “Only hand stuff, she’s so sad about it,” he whimpers into your cheek with a high, mocking voice. 

Your fingers dig into the skin on his chest, daring to hold him away as he goes for your mouth. “I swear to god, Max –,”

In one single fluid motion, he pushes on your tailbone, and swings your hips forward as he tackles your mouth with his own, effectively yanking you under him. You huff in surprise, before pulling away to find menace and glee in his eyes. Grins again as he nips with flat teeth on the curve of your neck. 

He plants wet, hot kisses across your chest, heat blooms against your ribs and tunnels down between your legs, as he tongues the softer places along the hollow of your throat, then up the other side of your throat, teasing your earlobe. 

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, “that was mean. What can I do to make it up to you?” 

Pressing your chest up against his, knowing he can feel the squish of your tits, you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him towards you. His hard cock rubs up against your seam and he lets loose with a muffled groan into your mouth. You roll your hips once with him between you and he turns his head to your jaw, as you both pant at the sensation. 

“You know exactly what I want.” 

His teeth graze you gently. This is an exercise in restraint for you as much as it is him. Given any other night, you’d have his pants off by now, on his back, or behind you, but you refrain. You can’t squeeze him like you want to and that only frustrates you more, makes you heated and ruffled, makes you want more of his skin on you, around you, as if he could smother you. You want to merge your bodies. Your knees dig into his ribs.

He whispers something, too low and fast for you to catch it, but it ends broken and uneasy as if you’re touching something delicate within him. Bending back with one hand, Max reaches between your legs and cups you, one finger barely pressing the wet material back inside you. 

“Was this waiting for me under all those layers?” You nod as he pushes deeper, your mouth dropping open. He kisses your chin, before tucking his head under your jaw again. “No wonder you were burning up.” 

He inhales as if his face was pressed right up against your cunt, two fingers rubbing up and down over that sodden material. It scraps against your clit and it burns. “I could eat you. Just like this.”

“Max, c’mon–,”

“I know, baby, I know.” 

Smearing that pink little bow with the smell of you, he dips his hand under the line of your underwear, past your damp curls, and soothes your overheated sex by filling it with two thick fingers. You arch, brow furrowing, mouth open, fingers clamping down around his shoulders, arousal crawling up your spine, higher and higher the deeper he goes. Max likes the build up, the tease, it’s why his thumb only hovers above your clit, the heat doing half the work for him, as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, the wet squelching almost embarrassing. Behind his hand, his hips swing in time. He groans, deep, into your ear, breathless. 

“Could come like this, baby, could come right like this.” 

The bend of his cock bumps the back of his hand as he thrusts against nothing. You hitch your pelvis up, opening wider, pussy easier within reach, and you forgo any teasing for him, hand sliding right past his boxers, molding your grip around him. He’s hot and leaking all over your fingers. 

“‘Ngh . . . shit, baby.” The arm holding him up shakes. You want to lick the salty precum but there has to be a rule about that, right? If you aren’t so desperate for that final fuck, you would have been a bit more careless. His fingers inside you press up into the places only he knows can send you into oblivion, as if grateful for tearing him apart. His wrist flicks quicker, faster into you, fingers plunging deeper, up to the knuckles, bouncing you as if you were on his cock. You match his speed with your own hand and Max hums, a dark sound verging on distressed. 

You bite your bottom lip, eyes drooping, the rocking motion scraping against your pleasure again and again, like a match scratching against the box one stroke at a time. “Maaax –,” He adds a third finger and you keen, high-pitched and desperate, the width stretching you out for a cock he won’t let you have. You grind against his fingers, the bounce knocking loose every sane thought in your head. 

Opening your eyes, you realize he’s been staring at your tits this whole time. His chest warm and glowing with sweat, his eyes track every bounce and jiggle, the cups of your bra putting them more on display than if you held them up yourself. 

“Where do you want it, darling?” His voice is strained, softer than it should be with your cunt sucking up his fingers. 

Max Phillips doesn’t do cutesy nicknames. Not during sex, not ever. Your his slut. His monsterfucker. Not – 

Your already unspooling mind struggles to grasp at darling before it slips away. 

His cock is throbbing against the palm of your hand. If you could see it, it would be flushed red, the vein at the base protruding. You pump him faster and his hips stutter. He’s so close and so are you. 

But he’s not talking about that. 

“On my tit, Max. Bite me on my tit.” 

With a groan that is all growl, all tension and feral hunger, his arm collapses and he sinks his weight against you. He manages to get his hand out, but yours is still trapped there, pinned between your tender cunt and his painfully hard cock. You writhe. “Max–,” 

His kiss against your lips is a starving sort of one, one that steals the breath from your lungs, wiping any lingering ache temporarily from your body. He licks the inside of your mouth, swallowing the moan that races from your throat into his. It’s all need, desire, a blistering familiarity that you didn’t realize existed between you two. He’s trying to say something with this kiss. 

He doesn’t give you long to read into it, as he pulls back, sinking more into his knees as he mouths the skin under your neck, above your clavicle bone, and in between the valley of your tits. His weight shifts off you, enough to pull your hand out. You arch, pushing your chest deeper into his mouth, using the back of his neck to pull you higher, he groans and licks, and you yank the tie of your bra behind your back. 

“Max, you can –,”

His hand claws at your cups, mouth consuming yours again, the ropes almost stinging your back as they are ripped so fast across your heated skin. Before you lie flat, his hand cups under you, fingers pressing into where the threads burned and forcing you to maintain that bend in your spine. 

The moment is coming. You can feel it. It’s different from a rising orgasm, or the first time he ever sucked your nipple into his mouth. Your lizard brain is sending off warning flares, but you ignore it once again. Those flares arc and bend, your arousal now fire hot. 

His tongue pressed flat, Max draws a long stripe of spit from under your breast, over the weight of it, and up your nipple, where he swirls it between his teeth. Whether Max Phillips was an ass or tits man depended on the day of the week, or whatever was blowing in the air, but he laved attention onto yours like they were the first pair he’d ever seen in his life. The skin on your other breast shines from where his fingers mold around it, smearing your wet juices all over your pebbled skin. He switches over and laps up that smell off you. 

He’s wavering, caught between drawing it out and doing it so instantaneously he might black out and miss the whole thing. Your heart racing, skin almost too sensitive, you feel like you might shudder apart.

“Max, please –,”

He chooses the second approach. 

Without warning, his fangs spring out and he latches onto the skin near the valley of your chest on your right breast. 

You yelp in surprise, pain and pleasure zigzagging like rough scissors from his bite out through the rest of your body.

Okay, that hurts. 

You gasp, bucking, yanking on his hair. “Baby, baby, gentler, be gentle–,”

He swallows and the ache lessens. Hot blood pools out of the spot where his fangs punctured you. It runs warm then cold, teasing like a feather, as it rolls down your stomach. It’s not a lot, but it's more than last time. It stains his chest too.

Slowly, that same sort of miraculous fog sinks down into your bones. The grip on his hair eases, softens, and soon you are petting him against you.

You swear you feel his fangs scrape your heart. 

“That’s good, Max, that’s so good.” Your eyes roll lazily in your head and you nuzzle his hair. “God, how does this feel so good?” 

As though determined to remind you he is more than just fangs, his hand pulls away from the mattress and slides back between your legs. You feel only one finger brush against your folds through your underwear – you’re almost disappointed, go back to using three, Max –

His finger plunges deep, deep inside of you, and you gasp, feet scrambling against the towel, as a swell of pleasure almost smothers you in an overwhelming wave. You nearly choke from the force of it. You were so overly sensitive but the gooey haze didn’t let you realize it until it was too late. You come hard, harder than you thought possible, seeing eons of galaxies and stars behind your eyes, with just one of his fingers inside you and his thumb distractedly circling your clit. 

He feels you gush around his hand, wetting his wrist, and with a moan you can feel in your ribs, he spills in his boxers, the spend running down his thigh and smearing on yours. 

Your entire body goes slack, as if someone had made all your bones disappear. His hips jerk slightly as if his orgasm is still trying to wring him dry before he stills and plucks his head from your chest, unplugging his fangs from the holes he made.

Blood immediately bubbles up from the wound and without his fangs there, it spills freely and violently over your tits, your ribs. The whiplash between your orgasmic high and a full-body weakness sends hot nausea swooping into your stomach and the room spins.

“M-m-ax,” you murmur, barely opening your mouth, your voice weak and thick as if stuffed with cotton balls. 

“Fuck, sorry –,” you can’t quite see him clearly as he moves and suddenly there’s a warmth over your chest, comforting and heavy. The blood trickles to a stop and you breathe deeply. The darkness of the room stabilizes as you fully open your eyes. The room spins but this time pleasantly. 

“Hmm, whoo, wow, ah, okay . . .”

You don’t realize he’s gotten off the bed until the mattress sags again and he’s cleaning you up with cold cotton balls. 

“So, I’m going to take that mindless babbling as a good thing.” He smiles gently, but he’s holding something back. He keeps his head low like he doesn’t want you to see his face.  

You wiggle your shoulders, as he delicately wipes you down. “What, you don’t wanna clean me up with your tongue? And why do you even use disinfectant – there’s no open wound.” You poke him in the shoulder with your toe. “And you didn’t even purr that time! I demand a refund!”

“Next time, okay?” 

You frown. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing. Just let me–,” 

You sit up, the dried blood pinching your skin, and he pulls away. “Max, what is it?” 

He pulls away so much, he’s on his feet by the dresser before you can touch him, the back of his arm tearing at his mouth to wipe it clean. Max is a lot of things but cold when you need aftercare is not one of them. 

“It’s nothing.” The line of his shoulders is taught, tense. But he cracks his neck and takes the Gatorade from the dresser. He finally sits back down on the bed in front of you, offering the bottle to you. You take it, unease mounting, your fingers brush his, but this time he doesn’t retreat. Instead, gently, his fingertips ghost over your wrist, down the fine hairs on your arm, drop from your elbow and settle delicately on the blue material covering the crease of your hip. Where your blood had pooled, wet, and stained the blue to a deep magenta. 

“I ruined your pretty underwear,” he says softly, forlorn. 

You move closer to him, your knee touching his hip, but you refrain from seeking out the warmth of his hands. 

“Max, I can get new ones, I don’t care about that. Please, talk to me. Did I do something wrong? Did I push you too far?”

His fingers flex around the towel, now also appropriately ruined. He shakes his head, more firmly this time. He snags his shirt off the floor, over his head, then moves towards the bedroom door.

“I don’t wanna talk about it. I’m sticky. I’m gonna take a shower. You wanna come?”

The invitation, it’s something, an encouragement you genuinely feared he might not give. Maybe it’s not you he wants to part from. 

You didn’t enter into this for the emotional connection and neither did he. You have to remember that.

“Y-yeah. Of course.”

He invited you. He still wants you around. 

Prev | Next | Series Masterlist

#max phillips x you #max phillips smut #max phillips fanfiction #max phillips x reader #max phillips #max phillips x f!reader #blood sucking bastards

[psyches-love-nest]

(+𝟙𝟠) 𝓦𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓲𝓼 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓷𝓮𝔁𝓽 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭'𝓼 𝓼𝓮𝔁𝓾𝓪𝓵 𝓯𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓼𝔂 𝓸𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾?

1 → 2

3 → 4

Hello! Welcome to my first post on this blog. My content is mean to cover the sensual and most empowering side to sex, without leaving the juicy stuff aside of course. Since I cannot control what could be triggering or not to others, I would ask you to interact with the following information with discretion and take my words with a grain of salt, please. I did my best to convey all messages with utmost respect and sincerity, so now pick one pile or two? and enjoy your reading!

I'm open to receive tips or feedback on the replies/ask box.

English is not my mother language, so please be tolerant of my typos and odd grammar♡

✧𝓟𝓲𝓵𝓮 1✧ 

Oh dear, your next boyfriend has such a heart of gold! He would be worry of not hurting your feelings and he wants you to feel comfortable around him before having your first night together. He’s highly intuitive and can sense you are hiding something important from him, though. Some of you have remained chaste so far and you could feel a little bit embarrassed because of that, but let me tell you something really quick; there’s no law stating you should have your first sexual encounter before some age. I’m proud of you for not succumbing under social pressure or giving up on the idea of having your first time with a meaningful person. For some of you the time to have sex has arrived, but for others I see delay as you must confront your fears before that can happen. This later group might’ve been taken advantage of or faced one leech after another and that left you trusting no man.

This is not a dumb or insensitive person you would be dating. He’s willing to wait until you open up to him about what’s haunting you, then you would have a round of trash talking your exes, social beliefs, and end up bonding over each other’s traumas. He'd still want to have intimacy with you afterwards but would pass the choice on when it’s happening to you. He might ask you what’s off limits or unappealing to you while he’s still thinking straight, since you would be meeting the wolf that remained asleep until you hit the mattress. Under his stare you would be shaking out of excitement and his hot big hands would get you to melt into a pond with their sensual caresses. He would search for your face and eyes to check if he’s pressing or rubbing you on the right spots.

His solely fantasy of you was fucking you senseless. Despite of his kindness and patient, he is a concrete and to the point man. He goes without a plan and relays on his instincts, yet he would never go for unprotected sex or putting self-pleasure under yours. Yours comes first actually. He would like to see you in all fours and enter you from behind with short and quick thrusts to torture you, and then fully penetrate you at once. He would surprise you by pulling you back from your hair and your ear would be close to his mouth hearing his heavy breathing. If you got a derogating kink, he would call you “a slut” or accuse you of enjoying yourself way too much for a former celibate. He might intentionally forget to draw the bedroom's curtains to preserve some light as he would go for a check-up on you later. He’s a methodical person, so he would use his two thumbs to open your vulva and check on the color, taste and search for your weak points. The more restless and awkward you get during the inspection, the more aroused he would be.

This man is slightly mean to his lover, but knows when to stop the teasing (after you've gotten frustrated and wet) and go for the real fun instead.

I do paid +18 readings. My approach to the subject can be either therapeutic or recreational according to your needs and demand. Feel free to contact me for more information♡

✧𝓟𝓲𝓵𝓮 2✧

The desire and affection you would have for each other would be strong. I’m getting his sexual fantasies of you and yours of him at the same time, so I hope I’m not mixing anything up here. While he’s not an overly imaginative person, he would want you to be the main character in bed. It’s something about your personality demanding it. You might be bubbly and talkative in comparison to his introspective and steady personality. He assumes you would start babbling as soon as he focusses on stroking your beautiful legs and leans to press his lips on your calf, tracing a path of wet kisses up to your inner thigh. He would take your hand and first place a kiss on your wrist, then under your attentive watch he would put your index and middle fingers into his mouth and suck on. He’s certain you will make a comment on his dick, he’s proud of his length and skills in the bedroom.

He might have square hands with short and thick fingers. You could’ve wondered how they would fit inside your vagina the first time you saw them. You might fantasy of how your boyfriend’s fingers could shape you inside, their thickness’s sensation, and how deep they could reach and operate delicately since THEY’RE HUGE. Your boyfriend was right on assuming you would react at the sight of his penis, you would be staring him down there a lot until you could grip it in your hand. You two might be attracted to oral sex, but your boyfriend fantasies of you giving him a hand job and his cum dripping down your hand and splashed on your clothes.

He has a good stamina and would go for several rounds before you passed out. He'd want to see you exhausted yet satisfied after multiple orgasms. I’m getting he does not care about being a dom or sub and might be open to try unorthodox practices as long as you’re happy and both get satisfied. This is a quiet yet romantic person at heart. There’s a cute side to his sexual fantasies, too. After he had made love to you, he would check how emotional fulfilled you are with each other.

I do paid +18 readings. My approach to the subject can be either therapeutic or recreational according to your needs and demand. Feel free to contact me for more information♡

✧𝓟𝓲𝓵𝓮 3✧

This man could be your sugar daddy and/or he’s older and has plenty more sexual experience than you. He could take you out for dinner and give you presents as part of a ritual that ends in you two having sex in a hotel room. The fantasy starts with him having control over the relationship and your adoration and total submission to him are granted. He would like to see you wearing a chocker with a gold medal with the engraving of your first name’s initial and his together, but he wouldn’t be satisfied with that alone. He would expect you to wear the jewelry and clothing he gifted you in your next date. I’m getting he likes when you take the initiative and do things for him like wearing nail polish of his favorite color.

He's aware some of the practices he’s into are not for the faint of heart, so he would ask for your consent and you’d likely agree to participate in whatever he proposes out of curiosity. That’s how your journey within the BDSM world would begin, darling. His fantasies include a lot of roleplaying, he would imagine you wearing a harness and sitting on your knees waiting for his command. He would start off with playfulness and giving you simple orders but his mood would turn progressively darker and would command you to take his penis fully in your mouth. If you do well, he might “reward” you letting you swallow his cum. Some of your games would be afoot even before you make it to the bedroom, like he could ask you to wear a chastity belt from morning to your night meeting, so he can remove it from you only before penetrating you.

He would fantasy of you wearing that sexy lingerie with slits on the cups that caught his attention online before purchasing it for you. I see he has a collection of sex toys and he would like to try one by one on you. He might blindfold you with your hands tied to the headboard and whisper soothing words to your ear before proceeding to fuck you. He might patiently wait for the day the trust between you had strengthened enough to ask you to switch. From then on his fantasies would focus on you making a mess out of his asshole with a dildo as he’s kneeling and making noises through a gag. He could have a derogating kink that he hid so well ‘till that moment, but there would come your turn to treat him like your pet and seeing him getting aroused by your taming.

I do paid +18 readings. My approach to the subject can be either therapeutic or recreational according to your needs and demand. Feel free to contact me for more information♡

✧𝓟𝓲𝓵𝓮 4✧

Let’s begin saying your next boyfriend promises fun, laughter, and his lively personality is very contagious. Regardless of his real age, he got both the energy and stamia of a teenage boy. He’s restless, adventurer and permanently horny. He would want you to get loose on your outings (you might have a stressing work, debts or a tough family situation at that time) and he would be waiting for the occasion to pounce on you. He is more like a puppy to a scaring depredator, though. He’d see you like a nymph or high priestess, seductive yet demanding of respect. He would worship you as craving the seemly unattainable. I’m getting you two are polar opposite and your personality could be calmer, mature, and you’re seemed as elegant/lady-like. He frequently fantasies with kissing you, leaving you disheveled and a loss of words by his tongue technique and caresses. He could not help but teasing you publicly, like sneaking a hand under your skirt at dinner with friends or grouping your ass when no one is watching as a warm-up for what’s awaiting you at home.

If you’re dealing with body dysmorphia, this person would help you to dispel those intrusive thoughts and to love your body as much as he does it. He doesn't see chubby arms, stretch marks, a plain face or flat chest (or whatever you’re worrying about), but a stunning woman. You would’ve never suspected that total surrender to a man meant getting the best sex of your life. On the other hand, while he was waiting patiently for the day you could have sex, he spent his time fantasying of looking at your ass and teasing your asshole while fingerfucking your vagina. I see this fantasy repeating over and over on his mind, but with alternative endings. In one he turned to hold your hips with both hands and was entering you from behind, the other shows as he leaned and went for stimulating your anus with his tongue.

You’re mutually intellectual and curious people, so this connection would open a door for exploring both’s general sexual fantasies and trying new things. Your person doesn’t get scared or disgusted easily, he’s a tremendous freak in the sheets and would get to know every inch of your body. There would be trust and no secrets between you. And while he might seem imprudent and unconcerned with trivial matters, this person would not go for unprotected sex (unless mutual agreement) and he knows of respecting boundaries.

I do paid +18 readings. My approach to the subject can be either therapeutic or recreational according to your needs and demand. Feel free to contact me for more information♡

#pick a pile #pick a card #free tarot #free tarot readings #tarot community #Spotify #pick a picture #tarot readings #astrology

[nickfowlerrr]

I’m still not over pwyc🥺 their dynamic is just 🤌🏻😚 I just want to keep reading about these two and whatever they are up to…. Who do you think apologies first after a fight and what are their arguments like. I’m pretty sure bucky is a lot softer and mellow now with her but does he ever loose his cool and regret it later☠️🤧

i’m sorry it’s taken so long to respond to this! but i'm so glad you've enjoyed pwyc!! thank you for sending this in! (also just so you know, i'm on my laptop or else i would've used at least four or five emojis by now)

regrets

pretty when you cry series masterlist

pairing: pwyc!bucky x curvy!reader

warnings: idk..tears?

words: no idea. not that many.

notes: does any of this make sense? idk. genuinely no clue where it came from lol but enjoy the drabble <3 also! this is not proofread in the slightest so sorry in advance for any errors.

I'd say Bucky definitely apologizes first a good 85% of the time and she apologizes first the other 15%. In my mind, reader will only apologize first if she believes she started an argument unnecessarily or if she thinks she reacted unfairly.

When they argue it's normally nothing serious, they just go back and forth a lot with their banter about stupid stuff lol. If they do have a serious argument, it's probably about their future. Reader not feeling comfortable or ready to meet his family or introduce him to her own, for example.

She knows it'll happen eventually, whether she wants to or not, but as of right now, it's a point of contention.

I don't know what would make Bucky lose his cool after everything they've been through and how insanely obsessed, he is with her. it'd have to be something that would make him feel really insecure like something that would make him doubt her wanting to be with him. Let's say she goes out late and doesn't answer when he calls or texts, or she leaves somewhere without telling him - I think that would trigger his abandonment issues and cause a fight for sure. Whether he realizes it or not, I think he does, he's terrified of losing her.

I don't know that she'd ever purposely try and hurt him like that since the realization she came to in the last few chapters of the series, and I definitely think he's gotten more secure in their connection since then, but if anything would make him lose his cool, I think it'd be him getting scared she was leaving for good.

That would probably either upset reader because he would think she'd do that now, and anything that would rehash the dark times in their story for sure would be painful and cause a lot of issues for them. It might go something like this:

"You left?" he accused the moment you answered his call.

"I'm not gone, I'll be back," you responded with a small chuckle at his words.

"You didn't think to tell me?" he questioned harshly.

"It's not a big deal, Buck,"

"The hell it's not," he stormed.

"You need to calm down," you said, growing agitated at his attitude.

"Don't fucking tell me to calm down, as if I have no reason not to trust you,"

"Are you being serious right now?" you scoffed.

"Does it sound like I'm laughing?"

"You know damn well why I tried to leave back then. Don't accuse me of doing something you know I'm not fucking doing," you whisper yelled as you walked to your car, passing a couple as you went.

"You need to tell me where you're going and when,"

"Oh fuck off, you don't get to dictate when I can and can't go somewhere. You don't own me, I'm my own person,"

"This has nothing to do with being your own person, it has to do with me coming home expecting you to be here and finding you gone without a goddamn trace. What the fuck am I supposed to think, huh?"

"Maybe you could try taking a minute to check my location, which I know for a fact you have, instead of being paranoid and going to your worst case scenario," you shot back as you got into your car, throwing your purse down on the passenger seat.

"You can't get mad at me for being worried about you,"

"That's just it, Bucky. You know I'm fine, you can feel it. So don't try and spin this to put it on me. You weren't worried about me, you were worried I left. And yeah, it pisses me off you'd think that. After everything. You wanna talk about trust?" you asked incredulously.

He knew he fucked up when he said it. He didn't think he was entirely wrong in his worries, but he shouldn't have thrown that out there. He did trust you. He was just..scared. Fear always had him acting like the worst version of himself. He shouldn't have called you so accusatory. he knew you were fine, but when he realized you weren't home, he wasn't. Memories of you leaving, or trying to anyway, resurfaced and sent him sick, his stomach dropping and a sense of panic rearing its head at your unexplained absence. Even still, you didn't deserve his hostility.

"I don't wanna fight with you," he conceeded.

"Wonder why," you snarked before taking a breath. "I'll be home soon," you said before ending the call.

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

"I'm sorry," were the first words you heard when you opened the door, looking over to see a pitiful Bucky sitting at the bottom of the stairs where he had been waiting for you. You exhaled deeply, sighing as he stood and walked to you. "You were gone, and you - you never leave without telling me where you're going. I just- I lost it a bit. I shouldn't have called you the way I did, I'm sorry."

"I didn't think you'd get home before me or I would've told you I was out. I just hate that that was your first thought, that you could think I'd do that to you. Because I wouldn't. I mean, before, when we first.." you trailed off, "I would have before. But things are different now, they've been different, we're different. Better, I thought,"

"They are, we are," he agreed, taking your hands in his. "I'm sorry. I got scared," he admitted aloud. "And I let it get the best of me. I wasn't thinking. I trust you and I love you with everything I have, heart and soul," he said as he leaned down to press his forehead against yours. "You're everything to me. The thought of losing you," he shook his head. "You have no idea what you do to me," he breathed against your lips.

"If I was gonna leave, I would've done it already. It's you and me, no matter what.. I mean this soulmate thing, it's forever, right?" you quipped, a small smile on your lips, "'M not goin' anywhere."

When you looked to meet his eye, you were taken aback by the tears in them, your hands immediately going to cup his face.

"Babe," you cooed gently, thumbs stroking his cheeks. The sound of your voice so soft and concerned had him wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your neck, your own arms winding around him in return. After a moment, you pulled away and grabbed his hand, leading him to the couch. You kicked off your shoes and laid down, pulling him along with you so he was laying comfortably on you with his head on your chest as you played with his hair.

You could practically feel the tension slipping from him as he melted into you.

"I really am sorry," he said again.

"I know," you whispered in response. "It's okay."

There was a brief, comfortable silence between you before you spoke again.

"You know I love you, right?" you breathed.

"You don't really have a choice, though, do you?"

Your heart clenched at his somber response. That was all you. You recalled those words you'd thrown at him over and over again during those first few weeks. It wasn't a lie. You didn't have a choice, neither of you did. But you meant it as a jab and he obviously still reflected on the pain of it. Your nose started tingling as you felt your eyes welling. You swallowed thickly.

"No.. I guess I don't," you took a moment. "You have to know, when I said that, I was hurt. And confused and angry," you cleared your throat, not wanting to bring up the past again. "But with you, right here and now, with this Bucky, I've never felt so protected, cherished... loved in my life. And I mean it, I'd chose you a thousand times over if I could," you finished, trying not to choke as your throat tightened.

You held him against your chest, cuddling him close, wanting to bring him the same comfort he so easily provided to you. Assure him of your feelings. When he finally looked up, his blue eyes were gleaming beautifully. He lifted himself up so he was hovering over you, holding your gaze.

"In every lifetime," he said softly. You nodded lightly, a small smile on your face before he leaned back down to kiss you gently. It was soft and sweet before he pulled away slightly, his lips brushing yours as he spoke, "It's always you."

Bucky lowered himself back down into the comfort of your embrace, your presence just as soothing to him as his was to you. As you cuddled into one another, you couldn't help but whisper out a delicate apology.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," you breathed. He squeezed you, rolling onto his side and pulling you to do the same, both of you now chest to chest, nuzzling into each other.

"I hurt you first," he responded, anguish clear in his voice.

Another beat of silence.

"I'd rather you hurt me in every lifetime than ever have to live one without you. I don't deserve you. But I love you so much. I'm sorry I hurt you, I hate that I did. Might never be enough, but I'll spend every day of the rest of my life trying to make it up to you."

You pondered his words and wanted to ask him the one question running through your mind. If not hurting me meant never having met me, never getting to know me, to have me, to love me...would you choose that? You decided you didn't want to know his answer. It would hurt some either way. No point in considered hypotheticals. You both had regrets, some bigger than others. But you had to live with them now, the only thing you could do was apologize and try to make up for them however you could, whenever you could. You didn't have to dwell on them, you just had to acknowledge their existence when they popped up like they did today. Deal with them, work through them. Together. There was no way to rewrite history, but you got to decide what the future chapters would hold.

You decided you didn't want any more regrets in your book.

#pwyc series #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #bucky x curvy!reader #bucky x plus size!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader

[tubbytarchia]

I love to imagine how shocked and surprised the ranchers and Pearl would be when they both realize that the ranchers don’t fear Pearl and that Pearl isn’t ridiculing the ranchers for even a second

Like they’d be flabbergasted

“Wait your not scared of me??”

“Wait your not gonna make fun of us???”

Just imagine them standing together like that one Spider-Man point meme

Sorry this answer is about to go on a bit of a general ranchers/pearl thought spree but YEAH this, lmao. They have more in common than they'd think!! Alas fate was cruel and it feels like two ships that were so close to meeting but just barely missed each other in the night, sailing right past

Jimmy at least has Tango to not be alone in his ridicule but even with their heads put together they wouldn't have enough brain capacity to care about what others are saying about Pearl. And well, there WAS session 3 when Jimmy shooed Pearl away because of. powdered snow?????? And because she was holding a sculk sensor?? Honestly I don't think Jimmy even at that point cared much about her being labelled as crazy, or didn't perceive it as anything significant, because it never came up unless I'm mistaken? Not once did the ranchers mention that? Jimmy did still break my heart in that moment but I don't think he realized the gravity of what he was doing. I think he was leaning into that more jokingly than anything but also... maybe Scott's presence at that very moment influenced him (cough because flower husbands past cough)

Tango most certainly wouldn't care about what Scott was spreading about Pearl. Scott could come and tell it to his face and he'd be like "uhuh yup!" and then forget immediately because he's Tango (not because he's stupid, he just doesn't think about things he doesn't consider important in relation to him). And Jimmy I think might care more if he weren't in like a happy ranch marriage with Tango and stuff. They'd be aware but not know how deep others' perception of Pearl went, nor would they care unless Pearl wronged them in any significant way

Jimmy wasn't surprised by Pearl's kindness to them in getting the goat horns, probably mostly because he was racking his brain too hard over Minecraft mechanics and being too overjoyed when they did get said horns, but probably also because he expected it to be a one-off thing? But I'd like to think that when Pearl returned to apologize after making a fool of him by stealing Oreo (the horse) with Martyn, and Jimmy kept asking "Are you serious?" when Pearl offered to give the horse back for nothing in exchange this time, that that was when he was really taken aback. Pearl once again showed some form of kindness, even as she was being shunned by everyone (moreso now than in session 2) and as she started to lean into the label of "crazy" that she was given because what else was she to do, all alone? Even then she ran back to Jimmy to apologize and give the horse back. And Jimmy, sweet child, offers friendship at last. But then he got ahead of himself when Pearl asked for confirmation and he went "You know you'd be an even better friend if you gave my horn back too!" and Pearl had to admit she'd already given it to Martyn, after which they kind of just separated without saying much. Clearly Jimmy was disappointed but mm he didn't even proclaim that Pearl wasn't welcome anymore or anything... It was certainly implied through his silence but knowing Jimmy, he would have gotten defensive and made his stance clear, but he didn't, which was either because he didn't want to, because maybe he still wanted to entertain the idea of Pearl making it up to him, OR he was just that fucking sad. He just said "right" and left as Pearl laughed (also I refuse to believe there was malice there in her laugh. What else was she gonna do in response) Either way oh my god I hate it I'm so sad

Anyway so. Their interactions past session 2 were mostly unfortunate but to me it's just... SUCH CRUEL FATE because YOU'RE RIGHT ANON. I really think they could have made it work but because Pearl was in the position that she was in, she didn't consider the idea of ever allying with anyone seriously enough and when she would have, with the ranchers, she'd already felt like she missed her chance. I'd like to imagine her laugh then, when Jimmy left her at the gate of the ranch was that of realization that maybe this friendship really could have happened, but she messed it up. And I'd like to think the ranchers would have still ultimately welcomed her into an alliance, had Pearl not given up trying, because she probably thought that if the ranchers hadn't thought badly of her yet, they must have now. Because no one wanted her, why would the ranchers be an exception? I'm gonna stop my unrefined elongated rant before I completely lose myself um hi hello I'm sorry that I got emotional in response to an anon ask describing the spiderman meme LMAO I'm a bit ill

#blabber #maybe I should get a tag for my pearl/rancher stuff so I can use it as propaganda on my pinned post #rancher/pearl thoughts #there you go

[kayrockerqog]

imma compress all my td2023 season two thoughts into one post, so spoilers below particularly for the final four/five episodes

Okay so, I can't be the only one who's super tired of Caleb by the end of the season, right? Like, no, I don't dislike him as a character necessarily, hell, we didn't have much to go off of for a GOOD while, and I'm certainly glad they actually gave him some substance. But like...really? Putting him in the FINALE? Extending his arc so long that it keeps PRIYA in until the final FOUR?? It just makes them both feel like they overstayed their welcome, especially when people like Damien, Zee and Raj got shafted in favour of their plotline, which was ultimately super exhausting compared to others. It also just felt a little...off, especially for Caleb's teammates in the finale basically being "Team Not Julia," that just felt...so sad. And not in a way that was really earned since he was super wishy-washy for the latter half of the game, especially after Damien was eliminated. Like girl how can you go from having nothing to having too much?? What is this, rags to riches? And just to get all of the kinda low points of the season IMO:

Damien was just straight up robbed, and his elimination left a bit of a bad taste in my mouth?? Like there ain't no way DAMIEN would be dumb enough and/or not paranoid enough to NOT take the idol with him to elimination, like, ON HIS PERSON. I don't care that it was hidden at the campfire, there is no way anyone with his personality, especially after saying he moves the damn thing like four times a day, would NOT KEEP IT ON HIM DURING THE CEREMONY!! That's just an unnecessary risk and it got him taken out. Also, Priya voting him out made DOUBLE no sense, like I get Wayne and Raj being sentimental and all but why would Priya vote him over someone else?? I'm still not over Zee's elimination either. Like, yeah, I get why, he spilled a bunch of tea about everybody, but did they just FORGET THE FIRST AND ARGUABLY MOST IMPORTANT BIT OF TEA??? THAT CALEB WAS FUCKING WITH PRIYA'S HEAD??? Why did they spare him of that? Caleb should've gotten more fucking consequences for not updating Zee on the development, especially when you made him PROMISE NOT TO SAY ANYTHING!!! However, there's a lot of good stuff too that I absolutely adored about the later episodes:

MK and Julia's farewell felt really fitting, even if I felt MK should've stayed over her, plus the hug??? the mutual respect??? Chef's commentary???? real. Raj and Wayne continue to be completely endearing, both with Raj's elimination and Wayne's obvious love and care for him even when he's not there. I mean FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, his worst fear at the time was having to compete AGAINST Raj instead of with him!!! How precious is that?? Plus the HUG????? RAJ'S FAREWELL?????? EVERYTHING ABOUT IT HAS ME SO GIDDY MAN!! "Bowie, get your dancing shoes!" me, being buried in a pile of the hearts swirling around my head and also just, Bowie in the finale being an icon, as usual, even if he isn't competing. His friendship with Wayne as a result of his relationship with Raj and how he's adapted to their ways of thinking is SO!!!!! GAH!!!!!! HE LEARNED THE HOCKEY TALK!!!!! IM WEAK!!!!!! And everyone on Wayne's team being so genuinely happy to support him, especially those I genuinely would not have expected to be there (Axel, Ripper, Chase) but when I think about it, it makes PERFECT sense, and I'm just,,, AGH!!!!! And while the final three and winner may not have been my first choices, I am ultimately pleased with the ending. Wayne winning makes up for the exhaustion of other plotlines in the season, and really, he played fair and square and won. Much as I wanted Julia to win, I'm glad he did.

now that ive actually seen all the episodes I'm gonna be,,, insane and reblog so much td stuff because obviously, so,, AND IF ANYONE WANTS TO ASK ME MORE QUESTIONS FEEL FREE!!! I WOULD LOVE TO TALK MORE IN DEPTH ABOUT MY THOUGHTS OF THE SEASON!!

#total drama #total drama 2023 #td 2023 #td 2023 spoilers #td raj #td wayne #td caleb #td julia #td damien #td mk #td zee #total drama stays winning #total drama 2023 spoilers

[pinklemonadeflav]

Moving

You're a few weeks away from starting a new chapter in your life alone, and Chan comes home to find you in an anxious and stressed state.

Persona : Bang Chan

✂︎ ☁︎

wc: 1.3k

Bang Chan x gn!reader

Content notes: some cursing from stressed-out reader, pet names from Chan

<Read under the cut>

"Oh my god, where the fuck is it? Where the hell did I-"

You're pacing around, left and right, up and down, literally all over the house, eyebrows pinched and teeth gnawing on the inside of your cheek until it feels raw.

You've been searching for an important bank document for the past hour and a half, checking and re-checking the same places you've searched for that packet of papers. They were an integral part of your moving process, as you would be partially uprooting your life to work abroad for eighteen months in a few weeks, a decision you had mulled over restlessly considering everything; Your company had offered you this great opportunity to work on-site with the other region's team, where you could learn from inspiring people and their market, giving you a leg up for future promotions. On the other hand, you would be alone in a foreign culture, apart from your family, friends, and boyfriend Chan for a long time.

You had decided to take on the job, but your mind was a still a mess, just like the house in its garbage-dump-state, and you're about to flip your room upside down for the third time when you hear the front door open, signalling Chan's return home from work.

"Babe, I'm back!"

His cheerful voice rings through the hallway, to which you can only reply with a strangled hum as you continue to dig through your drawer. His footsteps draw closer to your room, and you see him appear in the doorway in your peripheral vision.

"Have you uh...eaten?"

His voice suggests surprise, not at the piles of stuff on the floor (because the house has been that way for the past week amidst the packing), but at the pinched expression on your face.

You pause in your hunched position, realising that you, in fact, haven't gotten your dinner. Chan had said he would be back late today and for you to settle your own meal, but all the searching distracted you and your stomach was now growling and begging for you to eat.

A deep sigh escapes you as you get up,

"Not yet, I've been looking for that bank thingy all evening. Do you think you may have accidentally put it in your office bag?

You were preparing last night's dinner when Chan had passed you the mail, which you recalled opening and tossing the exterior envelope into the bin, but you just can't remember where you placed the packet containing the documents after that as you were focused on finishing up the cooking. You hope that Chan may have mistakenly taken it, but he doesn't find them as he shrugs his office bag off his shoulder to sift through his file.

"You're not talking about the envelope are you?"

You shake your head, "No not that, I remember tearing that and tossing it, it's the packet inside of it."

It's his turn to frown as he purses his lips, gingerly putting his work things away.

"Packet? The one on the countertop?"

"Wait- what countertop?"

His movement slows as realisation dawns on him, "The one near the bin, where we usually put the recyclables. I even asked you whether you still needed it before taking out the trash......oh."

Your jaw hangs open. You have zero memory of what he's talking about, but you can imagine that the you from twenty four hours ago left the opened mail in the kitchen while cooking, probably thinking that Chan was referring to the torn envelope, and your papers were now long gone in some recycling facility.

Your eyes suddenly well up and you squat down, fingers dragging across your scalp. You let out a shaky breath and try not to let the tears fall, but fail when Chan immediately drops to his knees beside you and holds your hands in his.

"Hey hey babe, I'm sorry I didn't realise that was the document, I'm so sorry, I should've looked at it more carefully."

You sniff back a wet sob and pull back, "No- it's not that- I mean it's not your fault. I didn't hear you properly and now it's gone, and I'll have to call the stupid goddamn bank again and be stuck in the waiting line for god knows how long, and there's only two weeks left before I go-"

"Honey wait- look at me, it's gonna be okay. We can call them together tomorrow and ask for them to send it again, it'll take a week or less yea? You'll have all your stuff and be ready in time."

You're not one to cry so easily when things go wrong, and you thought you were handling the stresses of this new chapter fairly well, but this minor setback so close to d-day sets off all the underlying pressure that was festering at the back of your mind.

Chan also guesses this from your reaction, lips pressing together into a thin line and thumb gently wiping at your wet eyes. He pulls you into a hug, fluffy jacket absorbing the rest of your tears, while you feel the tension in your body loosen a little in his embrace.

"I guess I'm more scared about this move than I thought...What if I do something stupid? Or I can't adapt to the place and everyone hates me. Instead of it being some exciting chapter, I'm afraid it'll turn into me counting down the days 'til I come back. I hate that, I don't want to mess this up..."

Your mumble softly into his shoulder, and he tightens his embrace around you.

"You're going to do so good darling, that's why you're going in the first place! If you weren't competent enough to do this, your department wouldn't have chosen you right?"

"I guess so..."

"I've seen how happy your work makes you in the past year, and this new chapter seems so promising, like, precisely because things are new and unfamiliar, you can have fun figuring it out and learning new things. If things somehow go wrong, it's not forever,"

He pinches your cheek, "and I'll always be one call away for you to cry to."

You chuckle and lightly punch Chan's chest, "There's a time difference silly, you won't be awake to pick up my call."

He scrunches his nose and huffs, "No way, I'll uh-I can pick out an extra annoying ringtone so I'll definitely wake up when you call. Phone's volume will be turned to the max right next to my ear."

You roll your eyes, but also nod a few times as you calm down a little.

"I guess I'll try to turn my nerves into motivation to do my best. Ugh, worse case I'll ring up my boss here and ask for a transfer back hahah..."

Chan knows you're joking, you always see things through. You’re not one to run away from a challenge, so he's relieved to see your confidence coming back. He stands, tugging you up with him into one last hug before smiling,

"C'mon, I'll make dinner for you. We can go over your packing list one more or even ten more times if you need to."

.

This is for all the besties who are facing something new and scared of what's to come (I know I am, gosh)

On another note, did y'all see the thing about Chan's room D": I rmb the first one I watched, he was talking about music production and it was genuinely so fascinating to hear an idol's way of explaining it (I was a baby kpoppie at the time). I know Chan's room was a comfort place for many people and for him sometimes too, I just hope he doesn't feel too bad about not being able to do it and takes the extra time to rest himself and relax.

#ihatecallingthegoddamnbanksomuch #itphysicallymakesmewanttoscream #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #bangchan x reader #bangchanfluff #bang chan #fluff #skz #stray kids #gn!reader

[bugflies00]

I continue to wonder since you said fostering au wilbur continues to be entirely in denial and Not Realizing for some time after he and quackity re-meet how exactly DOES the Feelings Realization TM go down qcihdtiwdzgd

OOOH well its very gradual and very much a disaster because. well. its him .

i think i said they remeet when theyre around 22-23, and at the time wilbur was in a really bad relationship that he only breaks off two or so years later. his girlfriend was very controlling and always bringing him down and making comments about him, his appearance, his interests, what he ate, etc. so needless to say wilburs already absolute dogshit self esteem is so further down the gutter it’s actually Wow look it pierced a hole into the ground from how far down it is.

this is important context because it’s part of why he takes soooo long to realise his feelings, he’s just so deeply entrenched in trying to make his girlfriend happy and love him and to appease everyone that he doesn’t realise. its what i call his “ghostbur” era - none of this stuff is actually strictly based on the bursonas, but i find he does follow a similar pattern of evolution, and at that point in his life he’s trying to be the biggest people pleaser possible after realising that being the unapproachable loner he was in high school would only leave him alone (also bc his abandonment issues got worse after sally left). his new relationship makes that worse also.

in the beginning him and q are just sort of awkwardly tiptoeing around each other considering they last left each other with a bajillion things unsaid and they are extremely determined on keeping said things unsaid. they start to grow back into friends, albeit more normal friends than the absolute mess of a situationship/frenemies they were in high school. theyre still themselves meaning they can’t go a second without aggravating each other, but its definitely friendlier.

and as time goes by some of their joke flirting gets a tad bit too real sometimes- quackity will make a joke and stare at him a moment too long, or wilbur will stutter out of nowhere, etc.

but wilbur still has a girlfriend!!! so as usual he shoves his head in the sand and he takes melatonin so at night he falls asleep instantly without having the time to yearn or reflect lmao. (for the record i do not condone this if your feelings change communicate that with your partner etc)

time progresses, every stranger they meet think theyre either married, sworn enemies, or fucking each other. meanwhile wilburs relationship grows worse and worse, he’s fallen deep into an eating disorder (while he was already struggling with bad eating habits pretty much his whole life it gets much worse then), hes struggling with self harm a lot, and its just not a great time. his friends keep trying to convince him to break things off, especially tommy who, since he lives with them, has seen a lot of shit and absolutely despises wilbur’s girlfriend’s guts and makes this very well known.

eventually they do break up (its a longer story than that but it would require its own post) and wilbur falls deep into a depressive episode. it makes him doubt for so long if he did the right thing, if he just should’ve sucked it up and taken whatever scraps of love he was given, but in reality the depressive episode had been a LONG time coming its just his brain was in survival mode. he never felt safe enough with her, so subconsciously his brain only allowed falling into depression again once it was safe to do so.

and so my point is that with all these things happening he’s absolutely nowhere near ready to accept his feelings. meanwhile q is pining hard - that man is going through it LMAO trying to support his friend (they still pretend to be frenemies) whilst shoving down his own shit. he’s one of the few people wilbur feels safe with (even though theyve gotten into fistfights and q has sincerely threatened his life on several occasions), mainly because, in a way, q knew him at his worst (high school) and still came back. so he has more trust in him than some of his other friends because hes convinced he’s manipulated them into thinking hes better than he is.

anyway q is planning this trip for an internship he’s doing for his law degree, and he has to leave for a month or two. wilburs 25th birthday rolls around, and he knows q wont be able to be there. he’s already still feeling shitty, not really entirely out of that depressive episode, and he’s ready to just have a lame birthday and go back to rotting in his bed.

and then (this is so cliché LET ME LIVE) theyre about to do the cake whatever and tommy yells announces they have a surprise and he turns around and wham! quackity standing there looking downright exhausted, with his suitcases around him and the airplane neck pillow still around his neck (he came straight from the airport). wilbur runs to hug him and, to me, that moment is the kickstarter that forces him to start actually realising whats happening.

first off because theyre not exactly huggers but that one was so spontaenous and it felt so right!! second because hes already sad and a bit emotionally volatile and the fact that q cared enough to rush and try his best to make it to his birthday moves him a whole lot. and finally because well yeah he’s madly in love with him but the only thing he says is to ask whether the eyebags q got from jetlag are a fashion statement in europe or if hes just reaching for the raccoon look.

theres definitely more moments after that (they take a LOOONG time to get together. and so much pining. its so bad) but i just think that moment is really sweet and also i love how their relationship progresses over time

#alex.rambles.txt #c!wilbur #c!tntduo #mcyt #the fostering au #cw abuse #cw ed mention #cw sh mention #i think you were asking more about what happens After this but that will require its own post #i needed to talk about the context first and lay it out loud #when its not 2am ill make the other post yippee

[hirokari]

cat got your tongue?

wc: 1.1k | g: fluff, superhero!au, chat noir!jaemin, gender neautral reader | w: profanity | a/n: tee hee chat noir jaemin tee hee ps. little personal mentions of the murder mystery novel i've been reading + the cat beanie i've been talking abt w sunny

Beyond the swaying trees and the dimly lit street lamps of the park, Na Jaemin manages to spot you between little gaps of the canopy above you, smiling a little fondly at the sight of you getting lost in another book you'd gotten; knee perched up against your chest and your book perched right up against your thigh as you indulge yourself completely in the plotline of your novel.

Though the hour is late, he knows all too well that you'd lost track of time already. Hopping off of a roof he'd been resting on, Chat Noir quietly sneaks behind the bench you sit on, pressing his hands next to both your shoulders.

"I believe someone should be heading home at the moment?"

At the slight upbraid, you can't help but jump with shrugged shoulders, turning around with what Jaemin thinks is the cutest bewildered expression.

"Chat Noir," You huff, pausing to mark the page you'd last left off. "Would it kill you to not give me a scare every time we talk?"

"It would, actually, yeah."

"Oh, very funny." Rolling your eyes, you stuff your book into your olive green satchel, fingers brushing against the faded denim.

Your "coincidental" interactions with Chat Noir had been an ongoing thing for months, though at this rate you're convinced he's monitoring you.

"Cute beanie," Jaemin comments, eyes casted to the headdress snug on your head. It's cat shaped, which makes him a little giddy. "What is this, a tribute to yours truly?"

"Sure, you could say that." You laugh softly, adjusting the beanie and brushing stray strands of hair behind your ears. Your response is like a little cup of serotonin shot into his veins, and he smiles.

"Come on," Urges the nation's greatest hero, tugging on the sleeve of your sweater. "I'm seeing you off to your home."

"You know where my home is?"

Yes, Jaemin resists the urge to bite out. You'd taken me there to work on a pair assessment together.

"Yes," Chat Noir drags out in a small voice. "A hero should know where everyone belongs, should he not?" Scrunching your nose up at him, you begin walking by his side. "No," You reply. "I don't think Seoul's mightiest hero should personally know where I sleep every night."

"Don't twist the story!"

"I'm not twisting shit and you know it, Chat Noir. It's as creepy as it sounds."

"It's not like I'm selling your information or anything. I doubt anyone would want that anyway." Jaemin says, a tad sour. You laugh at the slight bitter tone in his voice, bumping your shoulder to his in a playful manner.

"What book are you reading, by the way?"

"A murder mystery. Why?"

"Nothing, I'd just like something to do to kill time now and then."

You give him a sly, cheeky smile, "Heroes have time to kill?" To which Jaemin scoffs through thin lips, "More time than crimes to kill, trust me."

"Alright," You trail off. "I guess I could lend you my copy." Jaemin almost trips against the gravel below him. "Borrow-? Your copy?" Your head cocks to the side as you meet eyes with him through his jet black mask. "Yeah, it's cheaper that way, is it not?"

"Sounds like you're looking for more reasons to see me."

"That too, maybe,"

Now Jaemin freezes. He can't help the halt of his legs when you retort back. You'd always been witty with your responses, but never had you been so... bold. Nonchalant. He didn't know what to think of it.

"What? Cat got your tongue?"

Now you're doing cat puns? You'll be the death of him.

With dusted cheeks, Jaemin stretches his arms out and kneels down on one knee. At the action, you give him a strange look, grip tightening a little on your satchel.

"What the fuck?" You give him a confused laugh. "Are you, what, proposing?"

"I'm proposing to give you a ride home."

"What? How?"

You never thought you'd ever have your arms wrapped around Chat Noir's neck, let alone see him give you a charming, boyish smile as he jumps from one rooftop to another nearing your apartment.

"This is literally crazy." You mumble, eliciting a small yell when the hero jumps a little too high, though you can't deny the small rush in your veins when he does. "This is literally safer, you child."

Your roll your eyes at his childishness, but still laugh. Frankly, he could not blame you for the way you're acting right now.

"I'm not a child, and I'm not a fan of cold winds." You complain, referring to the cold gust that bites at your cheeks. The skin of your face is cold and numb, and you bit the inside of your cheek to maintain any form of sense on your face.

"Sorry, love. We'll be there soon, I promise."

You can't argue with that. At all. He'd whispered it in your ear with his stupid soothing voice, you'd melted into putty in his arms at this rate. All you're left to do is watch the scenery of silhouettes contrasted compared to the dark blue that paints the sky.

"Blue hour," You mumble with a sense of admiration in your voice. "Your favorite," Jaemin adds. You hum, recalling when you'd told Chat Noir that on your way to your favorite bakery, around the same hour.

It doesn't take long for Jaemin to arrive at the balcony of your apartment. Perched up safely, he helps you out of his arms and into the safety of your home.

"Thank you," You chime, leaning closer against the same railing he rests on. "Oh, before I forget: here's the novel." You hand it to him. He admires it, the pages already slightly worn out, the paperback cover having been bent a little by your little habit of picking the corners of it.

"How about this," Starts Jaemin. He sets the book back into your hands, softening at the surprised tilt of your head. "You can give it to me the next time we meet."

"When will that be?"

"On our date. Next week Thursday, blue hour. I'll pick you up here."

You can't seem to form words, mouth slightly agape at the idea of going out with the city's greatest, most charming hero. Jaemin gives you a warm smile, letting a finger rest under your chin just to lift it up.

"What, cat got your tongue?"

You can't help but laugh, closing your eyes to relish the warmth from the proximity. Standing against the tip of your toes, you shift and press your lips against his warm cheek.

"Okay. A date."

Pulling away, you lean back down to your original height and step away slowly. "Good night, Chat Noir."

Slowly, Jaemin wears the shyest smile you must have ever seen him with, "Good night, Y/N."

© hirokari, 2023

#nct #nct dream #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream blurbs #nct dream x reader #na jaemin #na jaemin x reader #na jaemin imagines #na jaemin scenarios #na jaemin blurbs #jaemin imagines #jaemin x reader #jaemin scenarios #jaemin burbs #nct dream fluff #na jaemin fluff #nct x reader #♪ mari writes!

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

BETA READING OF: Eros

Prompt:

Ancient Greece hoe dream is feeding my slutty mind plus I love time travel trope, so here goes my horny plot bunny:  Reader has got married to Dream and becomes Queen of the Dreaming. One day she mysteriously gets transported back to, as you mentioned before, it's probably post Orpheus' death, divorced Morpheus era when said dilf was looking for some good fuck to drown his pain.

Unsurprisingly he was instantly taken by this human girl, and Reader figures out this is Morpheus grieving for his greatest loss. So after some seduction from both sides they had the most intense rough sex ever. Reader's like, "Take all your anger and pain on me, my lord."  This might have lasted for a while and one night after they had rounds of lovemaking, Dream left because of some business in the dreaming and Reader just disappeared from this era without a trace. Dream's sad that this mysterious girl's gone, but over time their love affair fades into obscurity as if it'd never happened.

Cue the present time, Dream's worried about his Queen getting trapped by some idiot mortal, and then Reader suddenly appears in front of him, in her naked glory, and the memory hits him like a tidal wave. He notices that there's glaring evidence of passion on his wifey, as hoe Dream gifted many love bites on her and his cum is trailing down her legs. Needlessly to say, Dream gets both uncontrollably jealous of his younger self and turned on by reclaiming his love, and Reader, despite her soreness, gets incredibly wet at the idea of taking her Dream, this Dream inside of her while she's full of hoe Dream's seed.

This is in its rawest form (minus the spicy stuff cause I haven't gotten there yet), I don't really like it, but maybe you will? IDEK.

What I have so far:

You spent a lot of time staring at the throne adjacent to the intricately carved marble one depicting the helm of Dream of the Endless. It was more feminine, carved out of the same marble as the Morpheus’, but designed with a softer touch. It was a marble forest, twisting branches and flowers that were inspired by Fiddler’s Green, your fingers always ended up tracing little grooves and bumps absentmindedly.

“Hey boss lady,” You turned your head in time to see Matthew fluttering his way up to your shoulder. His feet clutched the fabric of your sweater and he shuffled his wings, looking at the two thrones. “You know you’ve been married for like, two months… right?”

“Distinctly,” You answered dryly, having very vivid memories of your wedding night. You hadn’t left the bed for three days, and then couldn’t walk right for three weeks. Morpheus had been very smug with the way you hobbled around, while you felt like crawling into a hole in embarrassed. You’d married a voracious Endless that aspired to paint every millimeter of your body with his love. “But it’s not like I was born knowing I was going to marry an Endless and become the queen of a realm.”

“True, true,” Matthew echoed with a bob of his head. “But ma’am, has anything actually changed in your life? Ignoring the fact that you live here now…”

You thought about Matthew’s words. Not much had changed in your life save your happiness. You had only ever really felt happy when visiting the Dreaming, so there wasn’t much you missed in the Waking. The people in the Dreaming themselves had always gone to you for advice now that you thought about it. They felt confident speaking to you about their problems… so you had been their queen long before you became their official one.

“No, nothings really changed… and it’s just a title,” You mused softly walking towards your throne and running your fingers along the warm marble. Warm and cool, just like you and Morpheus. You were an unusual pairing and not one that you’d think would work in the first place. “Alright, I’ve stared at the thrones for long enough, it’s time to go outside and touch some grass.”

“Ya know I think Lord Dream could touch some grass time to time,” Matthew muttered from your shoulder. “He’s been kinda uptight lately.”

“Probably cause of all the changes, you know he likes things certain ways,” You said dryly, thinking back to all the arguments you’d gotten into with him just because he was being a giant dunderhead who didn’t want to listen to you and pretended that your option and decision didn’t matter.

“Yeah you might be onto something,” Matthew chirped in agreement. Exiting the palace, you wandered through the gardens while letting your fingers brush along the flowers and bushes of the garden. “But at least he’s trying!” Matthew added, trying to be positive about his boss.

“He got pissy with me because I wanted to take a walk in London by myself after we had lunch with Hob,” You couldn’t help but point out. “It was London, in the middle of the day when families were having picnics!”

“And we both know humans can be assholes,” Matthew reminded you. “The boss doesn’t have a lot of good experience with mortals to go off of.”

“Pretty sure I have more experience in the human department than he does?”

“Point,” The raven agreed, taking off and swooping through the limp branches of the weeping willow in front of you. You passed beneath the little tunnel of gnarled branches carefully grown and kicked out your foot. You’d been feeling antsy lately, cooped up and in need of stretching your limbs. Maybe you’d go for a swim? Morpheus didn’t exactly like you swimming in the Ocean of Dreams, but you and the entity had a pretty good relationship and she didn’t try to drown you when you went swimming. “He’s still gonna throw a tantrum.”

“And I dare you to say that to his face,”

“I’ll pass I like having feathers… and living in general...” Matthew shuddered to think what Morpheus’ reaction would be of learning he’d said that.

“It would be funny though,” You giggled to yourself, imaging the initial confusion that would cross Morpheus’ face… then perhaps just a hint of an eye tick, then the whole: you dare… Your husband was entirely too predictable at times and you found it very amusing. You were deaf to Matthew’s disgruntled grumbles and continued walking, not realizing that your feet were carrying you towards the beaches of the Ocean of Dreams.

“Holy shit,” Matthew’s curse behind you jarred you from your thoughts. It wasn’t hard to figure out what had caused him to curse, the Ocean of Dreams was churning in unhappiness. High above violent waters were storm clouds, flickering with lightning and letting out echoed of thunder. “Uh, you ever seen this before ma’am?”

“No,” You informed the raven, trying to see if you could feel what was wrong to have the Ocean of Dreams so agitated. “Matthew return to Lucienne, speak with her about this matter. Surely she has a clue.”

“Right on it, boss lady,” Matthew called before surging into the air and flying back to the palace as fast s he could. While Matthew was doing as you asked, you quickly hurried up to the waters edge. Oh yes, something had agitated the Ocean of Dreams, she was not happy. Without hesitation, you strode into the cold water, determined to figure this out. Morpheus was away on business, you could handle this, you could handle this.

When you were waist deep, you dove deeper, fully submerging yourself. The water, while a usual chilly cold, seemed to be colder than normal. Even the currents were stronger, more aggressive. You tried to look around for the physical manifestation of the Ocean in the form of your shadow figure, but you couldn’t see her anywhere. A smattering of bubbles escaped your lips as you sighed in frustration and swam further towards the depths. In your efforts to hunt down the physical manifestation of the Ocean of Dreams, you failed to notice that the currents were getting far too strong for you to swim through.

Now, you didn’t need to breath oxygen thank to Morpheus making you immortal… but it wasn’t exactly comfortable holding your breath, or accidentally inhaling the salty water. So when your body began getting tossed and turned like you were in a hamster ball and it was being shaken, you started panicking. Floundering, the water around you began shifting from chilly cold to warm… and then back again. Your arms cartwheeled through the salt water until the temperature stayed warm and a bright light appeared. The storm must have finally disappeared!

You kicked your way towards the surface, hoping that Lucienne would know why the Ocean of Dreams had gotten so upset and the weather so irritable. The moment your face broke the surface you knew that something was very wrong.

First, it was way to hot for you to be in the dreaming. Second, it didn’t sound like you were in the dreaming. Third? When you opened your eyes you were most definitely not in the Dreaming!

“Oh shit,”

————————————————

You spent a solid five minutes panicking about the fact that you were most definitely not in the Dreaming anymore. Morpheus was going to go ballistic when he found out. Then your panic increased because you didn’t know where you were, and you were in the middle of an ocean! At least you could see land, but it was a distance away from you. Still coming to grips with what you were dealing with because hello, some magic fuckery had just occurred and you were not kosher with it, you paddled towards a weird looking boat in the distance.

As you grew closer, you could hear shouting in a language you didn’t quite understand, and the sounds of screaming. Focusing on the words, the power Morpheus imbued within you shifted the stage words until you could understand them. Greek. A child had fallen overboard. Your eyes dropped to the water and you spotted a dark haired child splashing around violently. You didn’t think twice about quickly swimming towards the child as they disappeared beneath the surface of the water.

Dipping back below the oceans surface, you swam your way over to the squirming child, a girl. She was wrapped up in a beautiful white cloth that was currently hindering her ability to swim. You made to her and wrapped your arms around her thin body before looking up and kicking your way back to the surface. When your head broke the surface, you made sure you pulled the child up so her head too, was above the chops waters.

She was clutching your forearm in a death grip, nails digging into your flesh. You were glad that she wasn’t trying to claw her way on top of you. Spitting out ocean water you’d accidentally swallowed, you began carefully side stroking your way over to the odd boat. You weren’t sure what was going to happen, given that people didn’t just appear it the middle of the ocean. As it turned out, luck was on your side and the greeks who hauled you and the little girl up onto the ship were entirely convinced that you were some lost noble… all because of of the clothes you wore.

Apparently only the rich and noble people of Greece could afford to wear purple clothing.

The boat was taking the little girl, a daughter of one of the nobles in Athens (how the hell did you end up in Ancient Greece?), home after visiting her aunt in Crete. She’d accidentally tumbled over the side and now refused to let you go for fear of a repeated event. So you were awkwardly standing around in your ‘strange clothes’ while the little girl held onto you like a baby monkey. At least when the boat docked at the harbor to the ancient city of Athens, in all its blazing glory, you were offered a cloak to cover your strange clothing.

Clearly the little girl you’d rescued came from a very rich family, because the carriage that you’d been herded into was lavish. You sat inside it while there were warriors on horses surrounding, and spent a good twenty minutes trying to think of what the hell you were going to do because this was way out of your realm of expertise.

“What is your name?” Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. Well, they already thought you were some lost noble or princess… might as well play it off as some greek god blessing or something… hopefully the gods wouldn’t be too upset with you. Not that they would be able to raise hand towards an Endless’ wife…

“You may call me Elpis,” You told the little girl. “What is yours?”

“Kynna, are you the great spirit Elpis mama told me about?” Soft brown eyes gazed at you with such reverence, you wanted to say yes and make her dreams come true. But you couldn’t exactly claim to be someone you were not. You stroked your hand over her still damp hair.

“I’m afraid it is only a name sake,” You replied, lifting your gaze to see several grand buildings pass by as the carriage rattled and shook. “I was lost at sea but the gods brought me to you.”

“Well if you’re lost… you can just live with us!” Kynna exclaimed with a wide beaming smile. “Panathenaia is starting tomorrow, they’ll be lots of parties and pretty dresses, and we get to give a new peplos to Athena!”

“I don’t think that will be up to me,” Your words didn’t hinder the excited babbles of Kynna, and while she continued to talk animatedly, you mulled over what you were going to say when you got to your destination.

———————————

You didn’t have to say much, the greek noble woman of Kinna’s family, along with the other aristocratic women from surrounding families living in the housing surrounding the communal living space and baths, were entirely convinced you were an aristocrat who had some how fallen overboard and lost her most of her memory. You were fine playing amnesiac as it meant less questions. You just had to get used to a different lifestyle while you tried to figure out what the hell had happened to you.

A circle of woman around your age, Merope, Agapia, and Helike, had taken you under their wing while servants scurried about in preparation for the Panathenaia. Your modern clothes had been ditched for a silk peplum that draped around your body and showed skin in several places, and you’d been adorned with a multitude of jewelry by Kynna’s father for saving his little girl. In essence, you looked exactly like the woman everyone thought you to be: Elpis, a greek aristocrat with amnesia.

You’d spent the first couple of days hiding out in Kynna’s household, not sure of yourself and not wanting to make trouble for the family, but your trio of new friends had convinced you to come out to the communal space on the promise of seeing several handsome men and enjoyable drink and food. Eye candy and snacks, you were down for that. So you were walking with your gaggle of friends and contributing to the objectification of several fine greek men who had arrived home for the Panathenaia, when Merope had wanted to visit the sun room to see what special guests had arrived.

“Oh I heard Theos returned from Sparta looking for a wife.” Agapia gushed as she combed her fingers through her hair.

“Forgive me for not immediately fawning over this Theos… who is he?” You asked as Merope and Helike giggled.

“He’s Athen’s most prized warrior, competed in the last Olympic Games and won several games.” Agapia explained to you as the four of you walked beneath a trellis tunnel of roses. She went on to explain, in detail, every millimeter of the specimen known as Theos and by the time Helike was telling Agapia to stop drooling, you were very interested in seeing this this Greek was as handsome and strong as he sounded.

“Oh don’t stop now, you’ve gotten me interested,” You mused with a soft laugh while passing a group of men who eyed each and everyone one of you. Helike rolled her eyes, Agapia was oblivious, and Merope fluttered her eyelashes but stayed silent.

“I am sure there shall be a man at the festival who willwin your hand, Elpis,” Agapia said while holding her hands to her chest. “Because while we all know that you’ve got heads turning, you appear to have very little interest in those we have crossed paths with. Mark my words, you shall find someone you desire by the end of Panathenaia.”

You rolled your eyes, you’d humor the woman, they’d been so kind and generous to you despite you being a total stranger… but it wasn’t like you could admit that you were already married, and didn’t even belong in this era.

“As you say, Pia,”

“Oh, I can’t believe it!” Merope gasped quietly the moment your group entered a large room with many lounging chairs and dozens of greeks lounging around. You hummed in question and looked at her. “Lord Oneiros has decided to be in attendance!”

Something perked up within you at the mention of Oneiros, and your head snapped to the dark haired beauty in confusion.

“Sorry, did you say Oneiros?” You asked, your voice coming out in an odd tone. You’d heard that name before, when Morpheus had assisted Calliope upon hearing her call. She referred to him as Oneiros. Morpheus was Oneiros. How could he be here. The girls gathered around you and gestured to a corner of the room. Your eyes followed and you felt your heart freeze your chest. This wasn’t possible, was it?

How could it be that your dark and broody husband, was sitting in the corner of the room dressed in robes of black, complete with a laurel crown perched upon his midnight curls. You trembled in place, fighting against the urge to charge forwards and throw yourself at him because you really missed your husband and wanted to go home. But as you gazed at the Dream Lord, you began picking up on his mood, his temperament. He was surrounded by a cloud of pain that you could feel in your heart, deep within his beautiful blue eyes was a raw hurt that nearly pulsated from his being. Oh. Oh fuck. Orpheus. As if feeling your stare, sharp blue eyes shifted and met yours. No recognition could be found within their depths. He didn’t know you. But he was intrigued.  

“I wonder who the lucky women will be this year,” Agapia softly wondered, the other two agreeing with her sentiments. “They say he is a voracious lover.”

A dark eyebrow rose ever so slightly accompanied by the smallest of smirks, and something within you cracked. You felt like you couldn’t breathe and quickly tore your eyes away from those of the Dream Lord.

“We should fill our bellies before the rest of the men arrive, the gods know they’ll eat it all,” You rushed out, your heart pounding in your chest painfully. Herding your friends in the opposite direction of Morpheus, desperate to get away from the being that you, one day, would marry.

———————————

Your friends were gossiping while lounging at a table, they were gushing about all the men and woman that had arrived through out the day. Apparently in the celebrations, orgies were a common occurrence among the aristocrats and it was always a guessing game of who would be getting with who, or more importantly, who would get the golden invitations to the orgies with the most powerful people of Athens. You didn’t mind the open sexuality of Athens, it was actually a freeing thought… but you’d spent the afternoon and night in a state of hurt with a very agonized heart.

Why did it pain you so much to see Morpheus in pain? It was clear that he was hurting. Hurting and drowning himself in wine and debauchery to take his mind and being off the fact that his son had died and he’d gone through a divorce. You hated seeing him like that. You hated it so much.

“Elpis?” You blinked and glanced at Merope, she and the other girls were looking at you with concerned looks. “You’ve been rather demure since luncheon, is all well?” It wasn’t like you could just unload all your troubles on the three woman, no matter how much you wanted to.

“Just a headache,” You informed her before unfolding yourself from your curled position and rising to your feet. “I think I need some fresh air and to cool down.” Your fingers tugged at your clothes until the pins held up the silken fabric just enough to keep it on your body. “I’ll be out for a walk, don’t let me keep you up waiting.”

It was clear that they weren’t convinced by your words, you strode past them with your peplum fluttering behind you. It was a hot night in Athens, but the breeze from the Aegean Sea cooled you down as you took a garden path that led straight to the beautiful water. Standing at the waters edge, you crouched down and brushed your fingers through the slightly warm water. This wouldn’t last forever, surely, your Morpheus was probably ripping through realms and universes trying to find you… you just had to deal with his past self until you went home.

Which you didn’t know when that would happen.

And you didn’t like the idea of leaving this Morpheus in pain.

But could you actually do anything about that?

You didn’t exactly have a handbook on what to do when you time travel.

Destiny will be up your ass if you screw this up…

Then again maybe this was supposed to happen?

You growled and dropped your face into your hand with a more than exaggerated groan. You didn’t sign up for this time travel bull shit when you married Morpheus! Just as you sighed and dragged your fingers down your face, pulling your eyelids as you went, you felt a tingle in your being and a shiver run up your spine. You rose to your feet and turned around.

Ah.

High above on one of the balconies overseeing the Aegean Sea, lounged Morpheus in all his glory. His tunic was half on his body, revealing a great expanse of his physique and his hair was ruffled since you had last seen him. Right. Lucienne reluctantly mentioned that Morpheus had a few hoe eras. This was one of them. Even though he wasn’t your Morpheus, you could still feel his inherent desire and lust. That both scared and excited you.

“Elpis?” Kynna’s sweet voice broke your stare down with Morpheus. “What are you doing outside all alone? Did you have a bad dream?”

“Kynna!” You softly exclaimed, striding up to the girl and plucking her from the ground. “You’re supposed to be in bed.”

“You’re not in bed,” The little girl pointed out like it would make a difference, making your eyebrow pop up.

“That’s because I was out for a walk, come on little one, back to bed, you have great things to do tomorrow.” Continuing to carry Kynna, you entered the joined stone building and walked towards her families wing.

————————

There was another luncheon in which most aristocratic families were attending, yourself included. You had been hesitant to go because you weren’t familiar with the politics of the noble class, but the food was enjoyable and there were several men determined to entertain you. They did. At least until a certain someone arrived. Your attention was drawn to Morpheus like a moth to a flame. You couldn’t help it. Not when he was the love of your life and the very being you promised to spend the rest of eternity together. But he wasn’t yours. At least not yet. That didn’t stop the smoldering looks he sent your way. You ate your grapes, one by one, all the while staring directly at him.

—————————

You knew you were playing with fire. The Endless could see it. He also knew that you knew you were playing as such. You fascinated him, hypnotized him with your eyes, demanded his heart and love with but a glance. Yet you never drew close enough to indulge. It was maddening, for Oneiros wanted no other but you. You’d drown out the sharp sting of loss he felt. He was sure of it. He enjoyed the way heat bloomed beneath your skin when he picked the flower you’d been reaching for and held it out for you to take. You hadn’t uttered a word, but your silence spoke a million things.

—————————

It was getting harder and harder to avoid interacting with Morpheus. You didn’t know if it was because you naturally gravitated towards him, or if it was because he clearly wanted you. Nothing you did rid you of the pain you felt from his. So you had gone to the baths to try and soak out the stress you felt. It was nearing midnight, so most of the nobles were either indulging in bodily delights, drinking, or sleeping off the alcohol. That meant you could enjoy the public bath house in privacy.

So you slowly made your way into the steamy room and carefully unwound the belt around your waist. Then your fingers plucked the pins from your shoulders and you carefully folded the silk cloth that hung around your body. The steaming water looked inviting as you tipped down into one of the pools, and you sighed at the nostalgia that filled your mind. The bath house pools were much like the large bath you had in the Dreaming, and made memories of relaxing in it cradled within Morpheus’ arms as he told you stories of past dreams.

You wanted to go home so bad.

“Are tonights revelries not to your appetite?” You jerked in place at the sound of his voice, your head snapping around to see Morpheus lounging in a corner of the bath. Shit. Shit. Shit. It took everything you had not to stare at his naked body leisurely sprawled across the sitting ledge without care. His black messy curls made your fingers twitch for they ached to run through them. It took you a solid minute to find the courage to reply.

“I do not usually partake in such festivities, my lord,” You replied, a slight tremble in your words. A black eyebrow arched and you forced your gaze to the carved statues of spites mounted at the end of the room. “I am more reserved with my affections.”

“But not entirely opposed as your skin paints a different story,” Morpheus pointed out, his eyes lingering on the faded marks of someones apparent love. Oh yes, someone had the pleasure of indulging in your body. The Endless watched as you flushed beneath his scrutiny, and took great enjoyment in knowing that he did have an effect on you. “Who would leave a creature as lovely and delicate as you, by yourself during such festivities?”

“He’s away on business and I do not seek to control his travels,” You told him, carefully unfolding your self from your tight ball. Instantly the Endless was drinking in the view of your gorgeous curves and faintly loved skin. He wanted to devour you. You wanted him to stop hurting. So you rose to your feet in the water and slowly sloshed over to him. “Why are you here?”

Clearly he didn’t expect you to ask him such a question, but nonetheless he humored you after taking a sip of his wine.

“I am enjoying the festivities, the same as you,”

“No you’re not,” Now that was a bold statement to say directly to his face, and you could see his eyes darken.

“You dare think to know my intentions better than I?” He questioned back.

“I know enough to wonder why you are here, rather than with the men and women desperately throwing themselves at you.” You informed him before turning to the side and moving back towards your folded dress. You left the bathhouse and a very hungry Endless behind.

———————

You’d stayed behind as the girls headed off to enjoy some time with the men than had charmed them. Most of the festivities had moved to the Parthenon, so you were surrounded by quietness and the sounds of waves. Finding yourself among halls that were usually filled with chattering people, beautiful people, you found yourself missing the Dreaming and your friends there. You needed a drink.

Striding to a table with a jug of wine, you poured yourself a health cup before guzzling it it one go. The alcohol wouldn’t go to your head, you could drink all the wine in Greece and you wouldn’t get drunk. A sobering thought. There was nothing to take the edge off your emotions. Just as you poured your second cup, you felt his presence behind you.

“You are missing the festivities, my lord,” You softly spoke, putting the jug of wine to the side. Then you turned around, only to find Morpheus standing directly behind you, now in front of you. He stared down at you, amusement within his eyes.

“And still you dare to think you know myself better than I,”

“Have you considered the possibility that I might?” You challenged. His eyes flashed a silver glow.

“You dare—” Your hands rising to cradle his face cut the Endless off.

“You are hurting,” You said straight to his face, your fingers lightly stroking his jaw line. “You are hurting, you are angry, but you haven’t let those emotions out.”

“And what do you propose I do, since you are so bold to tell me what I feel,” Morpheus coldly questioned, already very much in love with your touch. Yet you were testing his tolerance in this moment. “If you are so bold, tell me what will remedy my troubles.”

“Take all your anger and pain out on me," You offered with a glimmer within your eyes. “It’d be a shame for me to miss out on the true delights of this festival, yes?” The glow within Morpheus’ eyes shifted from warning to lustful, and you caressed his cheek once more. “Or do you wish to resume your sulking—”

and that's it, I'm bashing my head against the wall cause I hate it but I need some sort of build up/tension