#i feel like i’m being gaslighted by the cast | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wonryllis · 2 months

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daddy issues, my little girl (m) | park jongseong.

﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ぃ ────𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗺𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹,

preview. you had always had daddy issues, for as long as you could remember. so when jay came along with his caring nature, how could you possibly keep your feelings at bay? not to forget, your roses of love have wilted long before you even knew what love meant but jay, he’s here at your doorstep with a watering can. will you be able to refuse?

or where, new neighbor dr jay park is asked to babysit you over the week. ironically the only man you have ever had a crush on. you are so determined to put aside the feelings but jay makes things so much harder. he is way too sweet and caring and you are way too pessimistic and insecure. how is it going to work with you gravitating towards him in inadvertence and jay welcoming your presence with candor radiance? especially with all of your buried issues coming to life more than ever. false hopes and reserved secrets, reluctant truths and feelings that linger deep. he is right there, two doors away to reach. so why is it that love still feels so far?

meet the cast. daddy park jongseong(jay) with his doll fem!reader

genre. neighbour to lovers, age gap (like 7 years), romance, SMUT MDNI!!, comfort angst, fluff, happy ending, doctor(might change that)!jay with his precious girl. jay literally always at his girl's beck and call, he cares about you a lottttt trope. the "i know you can do it, but let me do it for you" trope. kinda ddlg concept idk? he's like your pillar, comfort person and just everything you have ever needed. practically your dream man come to life. subject to additions later on.

word count. 18-19k so far, est around 35k revamp + second installment.

warnings. DARK THEMES: hints of: daddy issues, attachment anxiety, inferiority complex, abandonment issues, depression, childhood emotional neglect, philophobia, insomnia, social anxiety, hints at emotional/psychological abuse, gaslighting, hints at being suicidal, people pleaser syndrome, mommy issues, thantophobia, atelophobia, atychiphobia, pistanthrophobia, avoidant personality disorder, body dysmorphia. more could be added on release and nsfw warnings will be mentioned in full fic.

theme song. daddy issues by the neighborhood and future by red velvet. on the side you can listen to: love letter by bolbbalgan4, adore you by harry styles, pacify her by melanie martinez, cool kids by echosmith, your existence by wonstein, teenage dreams by katy perry ..

RELEASING. TBD, progress ! 57%

"i’m home!” slipping off your converse, you put the pair inside the shoe cabinet near the entrance and close the wooden door in a sigh before trudging in. the lights in the living room are dimmed, something your parents would never do. it catches you a tad bit off guard but nevertheless you try not to think too much. considering the silence surrounding you they most definitely are out for work and as usual forgot to turn off the lights. with cautious steps you walk futher inside, with all intention to sneak in a pack of chips from the kitchen like a thief even though at this point you’ve practically come to the conclusion you’re home alone, but one can never be too careful.

a cat like shriek leaves you when your eyes land on the back of a figure sitting on the couch, your phone almost slipping through the grasp of your fingers as your eyes widen in shock. startled, your heart more or less stopping in a screeching brake for a split second.

the man visibly flinches at the sound of your voice,“who are you?!-” standing up and turning around to face you,“jay?”

“god y/n, you’re gonna make me deaf,” he complains, face contorting into a tender, teasing expression; a small smile gracing his lips as he walks around the couch and leans against the top of the backrest. you watch as he looks at you, so softly that it makes you wonder, has anyone ever in your entire life looked at you like that? a look radiating such gentleness. maybe not, not until now that is.

“you got home early today, i thought you’d be out for two more hours?” his brows raise in a questioning manner as his gaze shifts to go over the time showing on your living room clock.

“uh, well i was working on a project the last few days but i finished it yesterday so,” you speak unsure if you should even be telling him this instead of asking what he’s doing in here.

“oh okay, that’s good,” taking off his overcoat he walks into the kitchen, folding up his dress shirt’s sleeves on the way,“what do you want for lunch then? do you want to eat takeout? or should i cook you something? you must be hungry,” he takes out a bottle of cold water from the fridge and pours in a glass for you, sliding the cup on the countertop towards you as you approach the space in hesitant and confused steps.

his questions dumbfound you, leaving your brain at a loss, still dazed from his presence before you,“what? why are you asking me that? and what are you doing in my house?” you ask, looking completely clueless when jay turns to look at you expecting it to be some kind of a sarcastic remark. but the lost look in your eyes has him surrendering even if it does turn out to be some joke.

“taking care of you,” jay smiles, straightening his posture in an upright position and moving closer to the counter across which you stand,“technically, babysitting,”

“babysitting? me? but,” it baffles you, is this some prank or are you supposed to know something you don’t? your mind’s mechanical gears slow down, friction arising in between them. you don’t remember anything regarding or relating to the term babysitting. there’s no way he’s serious.. right?

“doll, didn’t your parents tell you they’re gonna be out on a business trip for a week? they asked me to look after you while they’re gone,” what.

yes these past few days when you couldn’t catch a hidden, one-sided glimpse of him in the elevator you did feel weird. and you definitely did subconsciously wish to run across him again, even though you were on a mission to avoid him, but this; this is not what you would’ve liked, this is not what you wanted. this is far from what you can handle, what your messed up self can accept.

“no?” the look on your face has jay almost spilling a laugh, the way your features contort to a whiny crying expression. how cute. he thinks.

“that’s okay, now you know,” trying to imitate you, he scrushes up his nose in a slight pout, reaching out to pat your head twice. and there goes your heart. you never thought you’d like head pats this much, you only remember getting them twice from your father but it felt different. it used to annoy you because he would mess up your hair but the way jay caressed your head it felt you had accomplished something, so gentle and careful yet still close to a ruffle.

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the-crimson · 7 months

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I’m just spinning q!bbh in my mind rn I’ve got theories and analysis and bits of it are a stretch and it is rambly and long so it’s going under a cut but here we go XD

Everything he’s done since the eggs were taken has been so incredibly deliberate and he developed this plan when he was in the depths of the greatest despair. According to what he told Baghera today, he developed this plan before the anger stream when he lava cast the presidential office as that was part of the plan to draw out the workers.

So Bad blatantly lying and gaslighting and just being incredibly suspicious to everyone today feels deliberate. It feels like he’s intentionally burning these bridges. The whole gun debacle is a great example of this. I saw a post that suspected bbh took Ron to test Baghera and her loyalty to him by doing something he knows she’d disapprove of and while I don’t think that’s why he took Ron, I defiantly think that’s part of it.

The whole gun thing I feel is Bad’s test for Forever. Bad has lied to his face and changed the story so many times that even when Bad tells him the truth Forever doesn’t care. I think Bad is intentionally pushing Forever just like he is Baghera. He’s pushing him to see what it would take for Forever to cut ties. It’s brutal and is actively hurting Forever just like how Baghera was hurt learning what Bad had done to Ron.

Bad feels no guilt for what he’s done to Ron. All he cares about is what others would think of his actions. He knows what he’s doing is “wrong” but he doesn’t care. Such black and white morality is beneath him. He’s doing what he thinks is necessary.

And that includes his own self destruction. He is testing all of these relationships knowing full well that he might destroy them. He knows Baghera is so much more moral than him and has such a higher value of life so he intentionally showed her something that would shatter her perception of him. Bad knows that trust is very important to forever so he intentionally lies and gaslights him knowing full well that Forever may never trust him again.

Bad created this plan when he was at his lowest point. On an average day, Bad’s value of his own life is nonexistent. He designed a plan to uncover how the federation spies on them knowing full well that it could turn everyone against him. That sure sounds familiar doesn’t it? Bad’s proposed this exact same plan under different circumstances(“joining” the feds to make them worse so everyone revolts against them inspired by his building inspector bit”). He doesn’t care about himself and is willing to throw himself to the wolves and make everyone hate him if it means defeating the federation and getting their children back. Previously, bad never went through with the plan because he wasn’t as desperate but now… during the depths of his grief after the kids were stolen, there was nothing holding him back from complete self annihilation.

I think Tubbo discovering/catching on to bbh’s kidnapping put a hitch in Bad’s plans because now his tests for others are being influenced by an outside variable he can’t control, that’s why he spent the whole day doing damage control. He’s trying to spin the story in such a way that he’s still somewhat in control of the situation. He knows that the cats out of the bag. Everyone is going to suspect him now so what does he do? He spends the day making himself even more suspicious. He admitted to torturing foolish in the past. He admitted to imprisoning forever during the happy pills arc. He admitted to planning on abducting a player in the future. He’s making himself look so much more guilty.

Everything he does is with intent. What could be the intent here? He’s told several people that he wants to be arrested so he has access to the federation prisons/facilities. He’s told several people that he is capable of kidnapping/torturing someone. He denies he’s guilty of Ron’s disappearance while simultaneously making himself look guilty. Is he trying to push the federation? To see if they actually will arrest him? All fingers point to bbh and the federation knows this - they basically say so in the journals Tubbo found. But they continue doing nothing. The workers are warned to stay away from him at all costs but… why wouldn’t they just arrest him? They’ve done so to others for less. That’s the question I want Tubbo to be asking. He’s smart enough to realize there’s something off here. Yes bad has a guy in his basement but why hasn’t the federation done anything about it?

Maybe that’s Bad’s test for Tubbo. Bad knows Tubbo is fiercely intelligent and that he can’t bullshit has way past him so he gave Tubbo so much. Yes there was a lot of bullshit but Bad intentionally gave Tubbo more ammunition against him. Is that Bad’s test? If Tubbo finds proof that Bad has Ron in his basement and the federation continues not to act, will that clear Tubbo of suspicion in his eyes? Tubbo knows the worker Bad is trying to find, is Bad giving Tubbo a chance to unknowingly prove himself by uncovering Bad’s secret? “Has anyone ever told you your too smart for your own good, Tubbo?” It sounded like a threat but it could have been an invitation.

Fred has become an incredibly important npc and I have a feeling he is the key to unlocking the mysteries of the eggs and the great evil. I’m pretty sure he’s the one in the radio transmission that talks about why the eggs disappeared and Ron said he overheard Fred talking about the evil. Fred knows so much more than he lets on and one way or another, the players are gonna find out.

I’m also fascinated by Bad’s conversation with Bagi about Boo. Only after Bagi confessed to telling Forever about the secret did Bad put in his clipboard that she passed the test. We’ll how did she pass the test? She told someone about his secret. We’ll, she came clean about it. She told someone she thought was Bad’s best friend then admitted it. She wasn’t trying to go behind his back and thus was trustworthy. However, as the day went on and Bagi learned about Ron, this changed. Her perception of Bad changed and Bad updated his notes about her in response. She went from trustworthy to sometimes trustworthy to be careful what you tell her. She still passed the test but the level of trust dropped dramatically - which is so fascinating.

At the end of it, I think… through all of this, Bad is gonna burn all his bridges in order to find the eggs and destroy the federation. He’s accepted that at this point. He was so dismissive of Baghera’s concerns for Ron and Bad and almost felt like he was placating her, just telling her what she wanted to hear. If Baghera interferes with Ron, I don’t think Bad will accept that and he would sacrifice their relationship to continue his plans. If anything, I could see him releasing Ron into Baghera’s hands only to capture Fred in his place - and this time he wouldn’t tell a soul.

Just the sudden switch in attitude when everyone triggered his radar was palpable. “Get out of my house or die” he was so furious that this test had been interrupted but he masked it while with baghera. When Bad went flying into the hall of grim shouting at everyone to get out and attacking them mercilessly, you could feel the rage (part of that was the lore secrets being accidentally revealed but still) the entire visit with Ron was a performance for both Ron and Baghera and I feel so bad for Baghera because she’s in an impossible position.

She wants to be there for Bad she wants to support him but this… this is so far beyond what she is willing to excuse from him. This has crossed so many lines but there isn’t any turning back. She doesn’t want to lose Bad either through breaking his trust or being taken by the federation but at the same time she can’t stand by and do nothing. She needs to help him. Unfortunately, that means it’s highly likely Bad will end up immolating their friendship if she pushes too hard.

And just the way Bad acts around Ron is so fascinating. It’s all a performance. The large furnished home. The fridge full of food. The fish. The weird attachment Bad shows - almost a reverse Stockholm syndrome - while simultaneously talking over/for Ron in such a dehumanizing way. It’s so fascinating in the moments when the mask falls away. When Bad was watching Baghera talk to Ron - idk if it was just me - but I felt like Bad was a hawk observing it’s prey. He plays up the sugary sweetness and dependence but he still feels like a tiger prowling the bars of his cage eyeing the snacks on the other side. It’s the way he moves and what he choosss to look at during these scenes idk bbh’s body language is insane and I could devote an entire essay to analyzing it

Like Bad’s stream title before he started stream, there are only two sides. Either ur with him or against him and the only thing he values is finding the eggs and tearing down the federation. He doesn’t care if everyone grows to hate him. He doesn’t care if he grows to hate himself. There are no lines he won’t cross. It’s all worth it. It’s all inevitable.

#qsmp #crimson speaks #badboyhalo #ok this got really long #and rambly #idk if it’s even legible #but I have so many thoughts about his current arc #it’s masterful storytelling #and I can’t wait to see where it leads #I hope he gets worse #I hope the federations fear of him spreads to the players #I hope he burns every bridge #and at the end when there is nothing but embers #he realizes the cost wasn’t worth it #and it breaks him #I want people to be scared of him #I want a villain arc damn it!!#but if it doesn’t happen that’s okay to #I’m sure what ever direction bbh takes us will be amazing

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boxofbonesfic · 1 year

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Title: 𝙳𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚐ä𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 [2]

Pairing: Dark!Ransom x Reader, Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Summary: Your husband’s twin brother has always made you uncomfortable, and after two years of marriage, you finally find out why.

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Stalking, Kidnapping, Basement-wife, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Breeding kink, Smut, Dead Dove: Do not eat!

A/N: i’m fairly sure i’ve created two men made up entirely of red flags. Please mind the warnings, this work is dark.

previous chapter

The dry, arid heat that awaits you outside of the airport is a welcome change from the muggy Boston summer. Your phone vibrates insistently in your pocket as all of the notifications you’d missed come pouring in. Texts from your sister, pictures and videos of her excitedly documenting her landing and taxi journey to the cliffside resort.

You laugh a little as you scroll through them—she’s wasted no time getting comfortable. Her latest text appears at the top of your screen with a ping.

Nathalie: yooooo where are you? this place is crazy!

We just landed, I think Ransom’s getting the car now. Is it nice?

Nathalie: insane. it’s like all these cute little cabanas, and there’s like four pools, a tennis court, omg. you’re going to love it. i can’t believe it.

The pictures certainly seem to make you want to agree—from the looks of it, it seems like Lloyd’s gone all out. A hand settles onto your shoulder, and you look up from an aesthetic picture of Nathalie’s manicured toes in the sand. Ransom’s thumb rubs soothing circles against your shoulder through the fabric of your t-shirt.

“You ready? I think they’re pulling the car around now.” If it had been left up to you, you probably would have selected something a little more practical and inexpensive, but the Bentley that rolls to a stop at the curb in front of you is anything but. Ransom grabs the keys from the valet, and motions for you to hand him your suitcase.

“Is-is Lloyd not coming?” You cast a glance over your shoulder, searching the crowd for Lloyd. You don’t see him—in fact, now that you think about it, you haven’t seen him since the baggage claim.

“He’s got his own ride. You know him, everything with a side of business.”It’s kind of a relief, having him gone. Being able to lower the protective walls you raise to shield yourself from Lloyd’s… Lloyd. You slide into the passenger seat and buckle in, and Ransom push starts the Bentley.

“Can you do the gps?” He asks, and you oblige, pulling up the address from the chat logs between you and Lloyd. You can’t help but grimace as you read them. There’s nothing overtly wrong per-se, but his texts feel a little… over familiar, the same way it does when he speaks to you.

Lloyd: Here’s all the ticket information. I trust you two know how to have a good time. 😉

Lloyd: Held up, are we? My brother’s always been the impatient one.

All of his messages border on inappropriate, at least, in your opinion. Perhaps it’s because he’s his twin, but Ransom steadfastly ignores their rather promiscuous nature. You scroll through until you reach the link to the reservation, pulling it up in your maps app.

“It says it’s like five hours from here.” You set the phone up in the little holder, positioning it so Ransom can see it. He blows out a frustrated breath.

“Five hours? Jesus, Lloyd,” he mutters, shaking his head. You laugh.

“I think it’ll be fun,” you say, elbowing your husband. “It’s like we get our own little miniature road trip before the reunion happens and everyone gets here, right? Just us.” He looks at you before shaking his head, a small laugh erupting from between his lips.

“You and the goddamn silver lining,” he says, chuckling.

The summer sun beats down on the windswept landscape, the low bushes all vibrantly green as they fly by the window. It feels good, just the two of you. Well, three, technically. It reminds you of when you’d just started dating Ransom. Back when he’d only just started to feel safe showing you something other than the frat-boy facade. He reaches over to rest his hand on your belly. You aren’t showing yet, but the gesture still feels comforting.

You feel truly loved in this moment. Hopeful contentedness isn’t a feeling you are familiar with, and you bask in it as the two of you trade increasingly obscure inside jokes about things you’re sure no one but the man sitting in the car with you would understand. The hours pass so quickly that by the time the two of you arrive, starving, in the small city about thirty minutes from the resort, you’re almost shocked to be there.

Ransom pulls into an open spot after going around a few times, and the two of you exit the vehicle, stretching. The classic architecture on the faces of the buildings makes your inner art historian jump for joy. You don’t do much with the degree now, and it makes you feel a little less wasteful to rattle off facts to Ransom at light-speed. He does you the courtesy of at least appearing to be interested, even if he’s not. You don’t have to work, not really. After your internship with the museum had come to an end at graduation, slowly, doing things with Ransom—and inevitably Lloyd—had begun to take up much of your time.

There was always an event to go to, a celebration to be had, a trip to take. In fact, the only thing that had seemed to slow the two of you down at all was the positive test taped proudly in the baby book Ransom was already starting with you. You’re honestly a little grateful for the opportunity to take it easy, even if you don’t exactly voice that to Ransom, and perhaps take the space to figure out just what you want your future to look like.

After stopping at one of the carts, the two of you sit on the lip of the aged fountain at the center of the square. Ransom trades you a bite of his gyro for your falafel, and he brushes stray crumbs from your lips as he takes it back. You can’t help but smile up at him.

This is perfect.

You know it’s silly to think of fairytales and princes at your age, but you can’t help but feel swept off your feet. You don’t know that you’ve ever stopped feeling that way with Ransom. That new love tingle hasn’t gone away, not after two years of dating, and now almost two full years of marriage.

“Tell me about this fountain, brainiac,” he teases, grinning playfully down at you when you scowl. “Since you know everything.”

“I do not,” you insist, rolling your eyes, even though you’re already smiling good naturedly. “But, I mean, at first glance, you know, it’s old.” You run your hand almost reverently along the stone. “There used to be more of them, you can tell if you look at the way the tiling’s messed up.” You point to different spots around the square where the mosaic tiles don’t quite match up, patches looking newer than the rest.

“I’m glad one of us was paying attention during those lectures.”

“Why were you even in Brown’s class if you’re that bored by art history?” You tease, and Ransom fixes you with a soft smile.

“How else would I have met you?”

You finish your food and reluctantly head back to the car. You know that it’s just a matter of time before the little bubble that’s formed around the two of you is burst by the presence of other people, and you find yourself feeling a little resentful of Lloyd and your sister before you attempt to brush it off. Still, you’re a little pouty by the time you get back to the car, enough that Ransom notices.

“Hey, what’s wrong? I thought you were having a great day?” He asks. You sigh as you start back up the gps, shrugging. He rolls his eyes at your silence. “Come on.”

“It’s stupid.”

“That’s never stopped you before,” he teases, grinning when you scowl at him.

“I just, you know. I don’t… want it to be over yet.” You say, shaking your head at yourself. “It’s been nice. Just the two of us.” Absently, you pick at a loose thread near the seam of your leggings. “I guess I’m just feeling a little… selfish.” It makes you feel childish to admit. It doesn’t help that Ransom flashes you a cheshire grin at your confession.

“Oh baby. You want me all to yourself?” He asks, running his tongue along his lips suggestively. His fingers dance up your leg, and he kneads the softness of your thigh with one large hand.

“What, the plane wasn’t enough?” You ask, a smirk of your own forming on your lips as he rolls his eyes.

“What? No,” he scoffs. “You know it’s not enough unless I get to stretch you open on my cock, sweetheart.” His casually delivered words send a hot pulse through your core even as your face heats. Ransom’s thumb rubs ever smaller circles into your skin through the leggings as he makes his way toward the apex of your thighs.

You whine low in your throat, glancing out of the windows at the lonely road winding its way through the cliffside. Ransom swerves over onto the shoulder of the road, kicking up a cloud of dust from under the wheels as he does so.

“Ran, someone’ll—”

“No one’s gonna see,” Ransom says, unbuckling his seatbelt. He reaches for you over the middle console, and after waffling for a moment, you clamor over it, settling yourself onto his lap. He grasps your chin between his thumb and forefinger, holding you steady as he meets your lips with his own. It’s different from the desperate, hungry way he’d kissed you on the plane—you’re not sure how to describe it. Slow, deliberate—possessive. That’s what it is. Ransom kisses you like he owns you. Like he can afford to take his time because he already has you—why rush?

It makes your cunt swell and twitch around nothing as you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, your fingers twining in his linen shirt. He smells so good, you can’t help but scrape your teeth against his skin as you trail light, teasing kisses down the side of his throat. Ransom chuckles low in his throat before his hands sink into your hair, tugging your head to the side as he does the same to you, sucking hard enough to bruise.

He slides his hands underneath your t-shirt, and he tugs down the cups of your bra, your breasts spilling over the bunched fabric. Ransom rolls your swelling nipples between his fingers, a low hum of appreciation vibrating in his chest. Your breath catches in your throat as his mouth closes around your nipple, flicking it with his tongue before trapping it between his teeth.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he mutters, his hands falling to your hips. He squeezes them almost reverently before he cups the cheeks of your ass in his hands. “Like you were goddamn made for me.” The brazen hunger in his words makes you shudder. Ransom holds you still as he bucks up, grinding his half hard cock into the warmth between your thighs. You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, worrying it as he guides you slowly back and forth over his cock.

You reach between your bodies, fumbling with the button on his jeans. It comes open after a few tries, and you shove your hand through the hole. A growled curse falls from his lips as you wrap your hand around his cock. He’s thick, the veins throbbing under your fingers as you stroke him. You draw your thumb across the thick, wet head of him, and he groans. He thrusts softly into your palm, his breath puffing across your cheek.

“Tease,” he rasps, his fingers tangling in your hair again as he forces your mouth down to his. His other hand bunches in the waistband of your leggings, dragging them down to your knees. You yelp as his palm cracks across the cheek of your ass. He kneads the sore flesh before delivering a second slap. You press your face into the crook of Ransom’s neck, a shuddering breath escaping your lips as he spreads your cheeks lewdly, his fingers sliding through the sticky wetness gathered there.

Ransom grabs your hand, tugging it away so that he can reposition himself at your entrance. You’d cum on the plane, but something about doing it on your husband’s cock was especially satisfying—and Ransom knew it too. You suck a sharp breath into your lungs as he begins to press your hips downward.

It’s delicious, the stretch of him filling you inch by inch until it feels like you can’t fit any more—and then you’re seated on his lap again, your leggings rucked up and stretched so far you can hear a few of the elastic threads snapping. Ransom hums low in his throat, and gives a few short thrusts upward, and your eyes roll.

“God, Ransom—” He lifts you up before slamming you back down to the base.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, Sweetheart?” He coos, and you tighten around him at the praise. “Feels right.” He grinds his hips upward, forcing his cock even further into you. It does, it feels so good you can’t help but stare back at him, wide eyed as you nod desperately.

Despite your surroundings, Ransom takes his time. He thrusts up into you with languid, heavy strokes, seating himself firmly in your cunt with curses and deep satisfied moans.

“Fucking love how you feel inside,” he says through gritted teeth as his cock forces you open. “Like velvet.” Your head is spinning, your fingers digging into his shoulders as Ransom pushes you closer and closer. You whimper as he continues to egg you on in that teasing drawl.

“S’my fucking cunt, isn’t she?” You couldn’t help but nod dumbly. “Say it, Sweetheart. Say she’s mine, my pussy.”

“T-this is your pussy, Ransom,” the words come out in a pathetic little sob as you grind against him. “Yours!”

Your agreement seems to unlock something feral in him, and he drives into you with forceful intensity. You bury your face in his collar, gasping. It’s all you can do as he fucks into you with abandon, the car rocking with his efforts. You’re not thinking about that, though, not when every time he sinks the thick, heavy weight of his cock into you, stars explode behind your closed eyelids. He slams into you with a growl, his fingers digging into your hips.

“You should cum, Sweetheart,” he says lowly through his clenched teeth. “Wanna feel you fucking milk my cock.” You do, whining as you convulse in his arms. He groans, fucking up into you as you twitch around him. “That’s it,” Ransom throws his head back against the headrest. “That’s what I fucking need.” He thrusts in to the hilt, the head of his cock pressing tightly your cervix as he cums. You can feel every thick pulse as sticky warmth fills you.

Ransom makes a low, satisfied noise in the back of his throat as he rubs soft circles into your lower back. After a while, he presses a kiss into your hair, and you sigh.

“I hope you’re happy with yourself,” he says, laughing a little breathlessly. “Now we’re late, and a mess.” You can’t help but laugh too, punching his shoulder lightly.

“I think I liked that more than I would have in the airplane bathroom,” you say, and Ransom cocks his head at you, as though the little inside joke has gone over his head.

“What?”

“You know,” you say as you begin to straighten your clothes. “What you said, on the plane? The bathroom?”

“Oh, yeah. Well, you know. A little more space here in the car,” he says, waggling his eyebrows at you. Your husband frowns petulantly as you right your bra and pull down your shirt. You attempt to climb off of him, but slip, your sweaty palm sliding on the center console. “Easy, there. I know I’ve rendered you quite useless—”

“Shut the hell up, Ransom.”

“But I think I have some napkins around here somewhere.” You grimace as your thighs rub together wetly.

“I hope it’s more than some.”

—

As the two of you approach the gate, you suddenly feel like the word “hotel” is an inaccurate descriptor for what you’re seeing. There’s security stationed at either side of the white stone pillars, and one of them cracks the golden gate open just enough to slide through the gap. He jogs up to the driver’s side window, and pantomimes for Ransom to lower it. You are only peripherally aware of Ransom showing him your reservation—you’re much more preoccupied with the view.

The sea sparkles in the late afternoon sun, crashing against the rocky shore to your left. The water is clear and blue, winking merrily at you as you pass through the gate. Trees line the hard-packed dirt road, but as you round a curve, the path opens up into a courtyard with a small fountain. You were expecting a central building, a gigantic resort with all of the amenities—instead, you’re greeted by the sight of cabanas. They look like fairly new constructions, all polished wood and clean lines.

You hop out of the car after Ransom, intending to make your way around to the trunk and grab your bag, but the shrill sound of your own name stops you. You look up just in time to see your sister hurtling towards you. You have only a split second to ready yourself for her impact before she crashes into you like a many-limbed bullet.

“I’m so happy to see you!” She squeals, hugging you so tightly you swear you hear bone crack. Your little sister holds on for another moment or two before releasing you. She peeks around the car to address Ransom, who is still wrestling the suitcases out of the trunk. “You got this right? I’m taking her.” She loops her arm through yours.

“What, I don’t get the tour?” Ransom asks, closing the trunk of the car firmly. “I’m hurt.”

“How am I supposed to get her to talk about you if you’re there?” Nathalie quips, smiling widely when Ransom rolls his eyes. “I’ll return her in one piece, I promise,” she says, grabbing you by the shoulders and steering you away.

You shoot Ransom a rather apologetic smile over your shoulder, but allow your sister to direct you towards the cabanas. There are four of them total, ringing the little courtyard. You find yourself idly wondering how everyone’s going to fit—your parents, Ransom and Lloyd’s, plus their extended family. It seems a little… small for all of that. Regardless, the thought is pushed from your head as your sister drags you into the one she’s claimed as her own. The little covered porch leads to a well decorated room. It’s large, a canopied bed on one side of the room, and a small kitchenette on the other. In the center of the room, the little sitting area is dominated by Nathalie’s clothes. They’re spread haphazardly over all of the seats in random outfit combinations, the discarded items littering the floor.

She hugs you again before the two of you perch on the raised barstools in front of the breakfast bar.

“God, I missed you,” she says. “I can’t believe I haven’t seen you since your birthday party.”

“It hasn’t been that long,” you object, reaching for one of the complementary water bottles still sitting in the basket on the counter in front of you. “My birthday was only—” You pause to count on your hand. Three months ago. Shit. She raises an eyebrow, cocking her head to illustrate her point. You hold your hands up placatingly. “Okay, okay, it’s been a while. We’ve just been busy.”

“What, all of a sudden you’ve got too many vineyard openings to go to? We miss you, you know.” She teases. There’s a grain of salt clinging to her words though, and you can’t help but feel guilty. You hadn’t meant to let your other relationships slide in the wake of your marriage. It was just easy to fall into the pattern of well, just you and Ransom. You feel even guiltier about the earlier resentment you’d felt, swallowing against the sudden thickness in your throat.

“Anyway. It’s good to see you.”

“You too.” You sigh. “So, why no Jaiden? I would think this would be like, the perfect couple getaway for you two.” You waggle your eyebrows, and she scoffs, shoving you. “

“I told you, we’re—”

“Not doing labels,” you imitate her, making air quotes with your fingers.

“Exactly. I don’t want him getting all attached just because he met mom.” She hops off of the stool, and walks around the other side of the counter to the fridge. “You want some prosecco? There was some in the mini bar.” You can’t help but snort as she pulls the bottle from the otherwise empty fridge door.

“That’s definitely not mini.”

“I know, right?” She giggles, opening the cabinets as she looks for glasses.

“I’m not drinking, actually,” you reply as she sets one in front of you. You watch the bubbles fizz and then disappear as the pours the alcohol into one of the glasses. Nathalie raises an eyebrow.

“Not drinking? What are you sick or something? We’re on vacation, girl!” She pours you half a glass, and pushes it back towards you. “Come on, let’s party!” She takes a sip and sighs with exaggerated satisfaction. “Get a little drinky-drink in you, and then we’ll walk down to the beach, it’s gorgeous.”

“I can’t, Nat,” you say, this time pushing it away with force. “Seriously, just drop it.” She squints at you, before snatching it up with a sigh. She combines it with her own glass, making it dangerously full before she takes an appreciative sip.

“Fine, fine, weirdo. What are you, pregnant?” She says, laughing as she takes another sizable gulp. You swallow thickly as a thousand responses all rush to your tongue, each trying to leap out of your throat first. A joking What? no, comes to mind, as does a shocked You can’t be serious! But neither of those reaches your gaping mouth. You sputter, trying to think of what to say as her eyes widen.

“Oh my God you are! You’re fucking pregnant?” She shrieks, and you grab her arm, shushing her. “Ow!”

“Keep your stupid voice down, Nat!” You hiss, glancing around the empty room like you’re expecting Ransom to emerge from behind the ottoman with a disapproving frown. “Shit.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “I’m not supposed to tell anybody, Nat.”

“Technically I guessed.”

“Yeah, you and Lloyd have that in common,” you mutter, glaring at her. Nathalie doesn’t even have the decency to look apologetic, instead, taking another sip of Prosecco.

“I knew there was a reason to celebrate,” she giggles, and you groan. “Ugh, Lloyd.” She grimaces. “I saw him sulking by the pool earlier. He’s a real prick when he’s upset, you know that?”

“He’s a real prick all the time,” you mutter. “You saw him? He’s here?”

“Oh he’s here alright,” Nathalie says, swirling the Prosecco in her glass conspiratorially. “I don’t know what had his panties all in a bunch, but he practically bowled me over.” She rolled her eyes. “Weird ass.”

“Hey, he paid for your tickets,” you remind her, and Nathalie shrugs.

“A weird ass with money, then.” You can’t help but giggle at her irreverence. “Come on, let me show you the beach!” She downs the rest of her drink in a few swallows while you use the bathroom, and then you follow her out of the little back door. “Isn’t this view unbeatable?”

You find you can’t disagree. The well manicured grass leading up to the fenced overlook is something to behold—the sea glitters aquamarine beyond it, the sun hanging low and orange in the sky. Nathalie leads you over to a set of steps, carved straight out of the rock. They’re a little slippery, but the railing is well constructed, so you manage just fine as you make your way down to the shore. It’s like a postcard, you think as your feet sink into the warm white sand. If Lloyd had spent fifteen thousand dollars on a bracelet, you can’t help but wonder what he spent on this.

I don’t even want to know.

“Isn’t it amazing? Like oh my God.” Nathalie kicks up a little sand. “In case I’ve forgotten, thanks for marrying a millionaire.” She giggles as you shove her, and she takes off toward the water. You watch her head down the beach, content to stand with your feet in the surf.

“The prodigal daughter returns.” Lloyd’s low drawl is unexpected, and you turn with a little gasp. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

“I guess you’re just good at it.” You say with a thin smile. “This place is amazing, Lloyd, thank you for inviting us.” It’s the graceful acknowledgement you’ve practiced, and he looks pleased to hear it.

“You’re welcome.” His grin turns brazen. “Better late than never, am I right?” Perhaps it’s the hormones, the flight, or the drive, but you feel less than inclined to brush off his implication.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask irritatedly, and he licks his lips.

“Hey, I’m not judging,” he holds his hands up placatingly, exaggerating the movements. “If you and Ransom found a sweet little roadside attraction, who am I to say a thing about it?” Your face heats with embarrassment and anger, and when you open your mouth to respond, at first no sound comes out.

“You—”

“Oh, hey. Lloyd.” Nathalie’s flat intonation takes the wind right out of your sails as she jogs back over. “Thanks again for inviting, you know, the extended fam,” she says, looping her arm through yours. “It’s seriously the coolest place I have ever been.”

“No need to thank me,” he says smoothly, shaking his head as his eyes light on yours again. “Like I told your sister. I do for my family.” He flashes a charming smile at the both of you. “Glad you’re enjoying yourselves.” He sticks his hands into his pockets, his thumbs hanging lazily on his belt loops as he heads off down the beach, whistling.

Nathalie grimaces. “I saw him and figured I better come back,” she says, squeezing your arm. “Weird ass.” The two of you watch him go, and you shudder, a sudden cool breeze kicking up off the water.

“Yeah,” you say softly. “Weird.”

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Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️

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palfriendpatine66 · 2 months

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Your Pal’s Hayden Review: Higher Ground

What? Yes. I’m going to take a second away from my 24/7 Ewan obsession to throw a little love Hayden’s way and talk about Higher Ground. I had heard a lot about the series before I decided to check out the series and I’m so glad I did. It can be really difficult to track down but right now it’s streaming for free for a limited time on the CW website (and app) as well as tubi.

TLDR: I highly recommend a watch for a great Hayden performance in an angst ridden, emotional teen drama about kids working through their trauma in a therapeutic wilderness school. Many many content warnings for difficult topics and content warnings after my general review below the cut.

This was seriously the role Hayden was born to play. He plays a broken, sulky teen who lashes out in flashes of anger before he breaks down and cries AKA he is modern AU Anakin. It’s no wonder he was cast as Anakin after his work on this. His performance is emotional and vulnerable and shattered my heart multiple times.

The show is never quite able to make the viewer forget that they’re watching a teen drama with a cast of actual teens playing the teenage characters filmed in the year 2000, but I was able to forgive it for it’s occasionally overacted and/or not quite realistic dialogue and key moments accompanied by in your face soundtrack choices to pump up the drama and I think you will too. A very diverse collection of issues that impact real teens but are rarely talked about were depicted surprisingly realistically and sensitively. I was really impressed that the show consistently emphasized - over and over again - that the traumas the kids went through that were behind the problematic behaviors that landed them in their one stop shop rehab/intensive therapy/social and life skills group/high school program were not their fault, but only they could be responsible for how they coped and chose to go forward with the rest of their lives. The councilors on the show had healthy, caring, supportive relationships with the kids in their program, and the advice they gave was (generally) actually helpful and real life strategies. What I liked the most about this show was that it was realistic in there is no magic cure or happily ever after, but there is hope and there is healing and there are opportunities for a positive future even when everything is awful.

Content warnings below - feel free to dm if you want more details if you’re considering a watch. Also if you have watched please let me know if I missed any. For the most part these weren’t graphic depictions (they were rated TVPG in 2000) but the emotional impacts and aftermath are focused on in detail and can be very heavy.

- depictions of depression, anxiety, and panic attacks with flashbacks - drug addiction - drug use - overdose death - alcoholism - teen runaway - rape - sexual abuse of a minor - sexual abuse of a minor by a parent - sexual abuse of a minor by a step parent - emotional abuse - gaslighting - abuse allegations being dismissed, not believed - eating disorders - discussions of self harm - graphic depiction of cutting - scenes and discussions of suicide and death - death of a parent - gang involvement - domestic violence - physical abuse - infertility - drowning death - teen prostitution -

#would you like to be sad? if so this is a show for you #your pals Hayden reviews #higher ground #hayden christensen #scott barringer

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waiting4inspiration · 10 months

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Дорогая 6 (The Winter Soldier/Bucky x Reader)

Summary: On the hike with Bucky, you find that you are losing yourself. Perhaps you're realizing that your situation is not all that bad, perhaps his words are finally getting to you. Whatever it is, you're certain you'll never see the compound again...

Warnings: +18 content, MDNI, dark content, angst, small fluff, Stockholm syndrome, manipulation, gaslighting, strong language, the smut you've all been waiting for, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), p in v, fingering, oral (f receiving), slight bondage, noncon/dubcon, let me know if I forgot anything

Word Count: +5k

дорогая Masterlist II Marvel Masterlist

Bucky has not left your side since you stepped out of the cabin. He walks close to you, so close that you can practically feel his breath on the back of your neck. It does nothing but fuel the thoughts you had in the shower, making them return tenfold.

You try to focus on the trees around you, on the sounds of the birds above you, and on all the other pieces of nature. But every now and then, your thoughts crumble when you feel his hand grazing your back when he steadies you on a steep or rocky path.

You can feel his eyes on your back. He won’t walk in front of you and lead the way on the hike. Walking behind you will prevent you from trying to run away again. If he’s behind you, he can catch up to you pretty quickly. If you were behind him, you could sneak away and get a few minutes head start. No, he’ll stay behind you.

Even though you want to keep going, keep on walking so that you can distract yourself from your own thoughts, Bucky makes you stop, saying that you need to rest and drink water. Reluctantly, you listen.

Taking the bottle of water he offers you, you see him watching you out of the corner of your eye. After taking a good long sip, he sees him smile at you and nod his head. “See how nice this is when you’re not fighting against me?” he asks, but you don’t respond in any way.

His hand reaches out to your face, turning your gaze to him, making you look at him. And you feel your heart skip a beat in your chest. “Don’t give me the silent treatment. I hate it when you don’t want to speak to me,” he says in a small whisper.

“I want to speak to Bucky,” you say back, pulling your face out of his grip to look down at the bottle in your hands. “The real Bucky.”

You look up at him after a moment of silence to find that he’s not smiling anymore, not smirking, or anything like that. He’s just looking at you, with an almost sad look in his eyes. Seeing some kind of emotion in his eyes, you can tell that this has to be the real Bucky. It makes you shift forward, your heart leaping in your throat as you stop yourself to try and reach out to him. You can only whisper his name.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he whispers, his words coming out in a small laugh that doesn’t make you feel better.

“Bucky, what’s happening? Why are you doing this?” you ask, feeling tears coming through your eyes that you try to fight back.

He shakes his head at you, casting his eyes to the ground as he folds his hands together. “Because ever since you joined the team, I’ve wanted you. God, I wanted you so bad but I didn’t have the guts. I’m not…as fearless as my other self,” he adds, looking back at you with small tears in his eyes. “When my programming was triggered and I saw you, something else snapped in my mind. I can’t explain it, but it’s like I can choose who I want to be. Me, or the Winter Soldier. I chose to be him after the mission, thinking that he would at least tell you how I felt. I didn’t expect him to bring you here.”

Your hand reaches out to him and you can’t stop yourself from moving closer to him. “It doesn’t have to be like this, Bucky. We can go back to the compound and forget this ever happened. We can work this out, get you back to being you.”

He laughs, shaking his head, and looks back down at his hands. “I told you we can’t go back,” he whispers sadly, looking back up at you. “Do you have any idea what they’ll do to me if we go back? What they’ll do to us?” he asks, his hands grabbing you roughly, shocking you, and making you gasp. “They’ll separate us, do tests on me, God knows if they’ll even allow me back on the team.”

“It doesn’t have to be like that, Bucky. I’ll talk to them, convince them not to do anything to you-”

“Will you?” he asks, his voice going rough and dark as his hold on your hands tighten. “Would you ever want to see me again if we go back? You see, while we’re here, you have no choice. I’m there when you wake up and I’ll be there when you fall asleep and no one can separate us. Why would you want someone to separate us, (Y/n)? Do you really hate me that much that you don’t want to see me again?”

You shake your head, opening your mouth to argue against him. But you can’t say anything because you don’t know what to say. Honestly, you don’t know what you’d do if you convince him to go back to the compound, whether or not you’d want to see him again. He did kidnap you, almost kill you, almost starve you, threaten you, scare the shit out of you. Why wouldn’t you want to see him after that? But why wouldn’t you? You feel sorry for him, for what he’s going through. He shouldn’t be going through this alone.

But why are you feeling sorry for him? You shouldn’t.

Groaning to yourself, you pull your hands out from his hands and run them over your face. Bucky moves in front of you, kneeling on the ground as he places his hands on your knees. “Do you see how complicated things will be if we go back? We’re happy here. Aren’t you happy?”

“I don’t know,” you whisper, staring down at him with wide eyes. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to think anymore. You keep on…” you stop.

“I keep on what?”

“Keep on putting thoughts in my head. I don’t know what to think anymore.”

“Then don’t think anymore. You don’t have to think anymore. Just feel,” he whispers, his hands reaching up to cup your face, making a shiver run down your spine as you remember the feeling you had in the shower earlier today.

Before you can say anything again, he leans up and pulls you closer to him, pressing his lips to yours again. You tense up, your hands gripping each other as you stare at his face again, like you had this morning when he tried to kiss you.

He breaks the kiss and keeps his face close to yours as his hold on your face tightens. He can tell that you’re overthinking this and that’s what’s making you hesitate. “Don’t think about it. Just give in to what you’re feeling,” he whispers, his thumb stroking the top of your cheek.

As he leans in again, you close your eyes and decide to just go with it and see how kissing him really makes you feel.

Something changes inside of you. It’s as if you can feel your insides stirring, your stomach irritated with butterflies as you lean in to kiss him harder. A little unwanted voice in your head wants this, pressuring you to kiss back deeply, telling you to ignore the other voice trying to tell you that this isn’t right, and trying to remind you what he’s done to you.

But God, the feeling inside you as you kiss Bucky. Your hands involuntarily reach up to touch the side of his face as you lean closer to him. He stands, pulling you up with him, and his hands come to rest on your hips as his lips move against yours.

Your head feels fuzzy, like you can’t pin down a single thought. Everything just blurs together and all you can feel is the stubble growing on his face - a prelude to a beard - and the way his hands tightly grip your hips as if to stop you from going anywhere.

It’s only when you feel his hands sneaking to the hem of your shirt, his fingers slyly curling under it that you pull away to break the kiss. You breathe out a heavy sigh as you try to pull away from him, but his grip on you keeps you in his place. You don’t have the courage to open your eyes and look at him, but you can tell that his eyes are open and that he’s staring right down at you.

“See how it feels when you just give in and not fight against yourself?” he asks in a whisper, his face still close to yours as his eyes stare into yours. “Imagine what it will feel like if you just give into me completely, Дорогая.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, making you breathe out an audible shaky sigh as his flesh hand traces your jawline and then runs down the length of your neck. It’s as if your knees go weak at his touch, his words from the night he brought you here ringing in your head.

“But I won’t fuck you. Not until I know you’ll be begging me to not stop instead of begging me to stop, Дорогая. And I won’t fuck you until I have you moaning at that name instead of hating it.”

You won’t deny that you’ve gotten used to being called by that nickname, sometimes you even expect for him to call you that instead of using your name. And you wonder if his words are coming true now.

He steps back away from you, smiling down at you the way that Bucky would as a way to greet you in the morning at the compound. He then holds out a hand for you to take the lead on the trail again. But you don’t want to carry on walking. You want him to kiss you again because when he kissed you, everything didn’t matter. You had forgotten about your situation, about everything else wrong in the world.

You want him to push you against the closest tree and kiss you, making you forget about everything again so that you can live in a moment free of any worry and pure bliss.

But you carry on walking, reveling in the feeling of his hand touching the small of your back as he walks close behind you.

The trail loops back to the beginning where you and Bucky make your way back to your safe-house cabin. The rest of the walk is done mostly in silence, neither you nor Bucky speaking. If it weren’t for the sounds of leaves brushing against each other in the wind and the sounds of the birds singing above you, it would have been awkwardly silent the entire walk. Yet, the only thing on your mind is his presence, his touch, and the steady breathing from him that sounds close behind you.

As the sun begins to set, everything gets a bit darker, you two hear a howl in the distance from local wolves that live in the woods. It makes the both of you freeze for a moment. And though the wolves are far away, you feel a sense of fear fill you, thinking about what could happen if they come upon you two while still in the open. You don’t have any weapons to defend yourself and you could be outnumbered very easily, depending on the size of the pack.

Bucky places a hand on your back again, making you jump slightly as you turn to look back at him. “Don’t worry. We’re almost home.,” he comforts, running his hand up and down your back as he smiles at you.

You know that he will be able to easily fight the wolves off with his metallic arm. He can protect you and you start to feel safe knowing that he’s here with you. You feel safe with him, and it gives you the courage to continue walking.

Arriving home soon as Bucky had said, you breathe a sigh of relief when he closes the front door behind him once inside the house. You put your stuff down neatly by the door, wiping the sweat from your hands on your legs as you stand up again, turning to face Bucky.

He’s watching you closely, a small smile on his face as he takes a step towards you. “Thank you, for not running away,” he chuckles, his laugh making you smile lightly as you drop your gaze to his feet. He lifts your gaze back up to him by placing two fingers under your chin. “I enjoyed myself today.”

And you don’t know what comes over you, but you lean forward to place your lips to his. Perhaps it was the sound of wildlife outside that reminds you of the wandering wolves you heard, reminding you of how safe you felt with him closeby. Maybe it was the feeling of forgetting everything when you had previously kissed him. Whatever it is, you don’t pay it anymore mind the moment he kisses you back.

Your arms go up to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer as your hands go to his hair. His lips move against yours, his tongue urging you to open your mouth, turning the kiss more passionate, more intense.

His hands resting on your hips grip them tighten as he pulls back to end the kiss. And when he tries to step away and say something, you hold him in place and shake your head. “Bucky,” you whisper, the carefree courage still inside of you pushing everything else out of your mind. You don’t want him to leave you.

“You should get some rest,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours as his hands come up to cup both sides of your face. “Дорогая.”

You shudder at the nickname, releasing a shaky breath as you take a small step back. You wait for him to stop you again, pulling you in for another kiss to finish what you might have started when you went in for the kiss. You expect him to take control of you again.

But he lets you go. Even though it seems that his hands twitch to grab you again, he lets you walk to the room, silent and timid, his eyes scanning over your body as you walk. The desire grows in his body.

When you’re out of the room, Bucky takes a deep breath and runs his hands through his hair as he turns around. “Fuck,” he whispers to himself as he rests his hands on the cabernet by the front door. He closes his eyes and all he can picture in his head is having you bent over the back of the couch, naked under him as he fucks into you at a relentless pace, taking what he wants as you whimper beneath him.

“You want her.” Hearing his Winter Soldier self whisper in his head, his gaze snaps up to the mirror hanging on the wall in front of him. And his image in the mirror seems to reflect the HYDRA assassin inside of him. “Take her. It’s clear she wants you too.”

He shakes his head, his hands gripping the edge of the cabernet tightly. “I-I don’t think I have that kind of courage. She’s just warming up to being here,” he says, staring at himself in the mirror. “I don’t want to go back to having to tie her up again if this doesn’t go right.”

The Winter Soldier chuckles in his head, but Bucky can see his wicked smile in the mirror. “That’s why I’m here. You need to be fearless and I don’t know what fear is,” he says, leaning a bit closer to the mirror. “Let me take over and I can give us both what we want.”

Bucky stares at himself, swallows roughly and then nods his head. “Okay.”

You don’t know when you fell asleep, but you did. Hearing the bedroom door open wakes you, but you don’t register it for a moment as you turn over on the bed. You open your eyes as you shift to get comfortable and your heart drops when you see a figure standing in front of the window, blocking the moonlight from filtering in through the window.

Gasping in shock as you shoot up in your place, your breath catches in your throat when he moves towards you, kneeling on the bed so that you can see his face. It’s Bucky. But the look in his eyes tells you that it’s actually the Winter Soldier.

“Easy, Дорогая,” he whispers, crawling over you with his hands either side of your body. “You really think you’d get away with that innocent kiss?”

Your whole body screams at you but you don’t know if it’s telling you to run or just give in to avoid his wrath. But all you can do is freeze in place as you stare up at him creeping closer and closer to your face.

“Then again, it wasn’t so innocent, was it?” he whispers, smirking at you in the dark as his face comes close to yours. “I could feel how much you wanted me to fuck you right then and there.”

Words don’t come easily to your lips, leaving you just sitting there. “Bucky,” you call, your hand reaching up to grab his bicep. You don’t want the Winter Soldier to be in control at the moment. For some reason, you don’t feel safe now with him hovering over you. You’d feel safe if he was there in the woods with the threat of wild wolves, but you feel as if you need Bucky to be present in this moment for you to feel safe.

“Bucky’s right here, Дорогая. Right in the back of my mind, watchingyou, wanting you,” he whispers, pushing his body against yours where you can feel his hardness pressing against the inside of your thigh. “Needing you.”

You quiver under his words and under his gaze as his foot pries your legs open. Your hands rest on his shoulders as you shake your head, trying to get a decent thought to come through. “Wait.”

“No more waiting. I’ve waited long enough for this,” he growls, grabbing your hands off his shoulders to pin them down to the bed. When you try to fight back against his hold, his grip tightens around your wrists as he forces you back down on the bed.

“Not like this-”

“If not now, Дорогая, then when? Don’t make me get those handcuffs out again,” he growls, staring down at you as you freeze under him again.

You don’t want to be tied up again. The first days you were here and cuffed to the bed were the worst days. You hate the idea of going back to that. So, you have no choice but to do what he wants.

He leans down closer to your face, his lips barely touching yours as he stops for a brief moment. “Don’t think about it,” he whispers before he presses his lips to yours.

The kiss is different from the one Bucky gave you. This one is more intense, it makes your heart beat faster in your throat and all you can think about is what the Winter Soldier has in mind for you now. What he will do to you if you give in and what would happen if you continue to fight back.

Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.

His lips leave yours only to find a place on your neck as his hands travel down your body, keeping you down on the bed as they make their way to your hips. His burning fingers, each side contrasting from the metal digits of his left hand and the flesh of his right, dig under the hem of the shorts you’re wearing. Your legs twitch at the thought of him undressing you. His bionic hand slips in under the elastic band, making its way to your cunt like a homing missile ready to wreck your body.

His kiss leaves a mark on your neck, something you can feel throbbing on your skin before his lips before moving down your collarbone as he begins to descend down your body. It’s a natural response that you know he won’t appreciate, but your hands push on his shoulders, trying to stop him from going any further down your body.

He growls at your resistance, grabbing your hands again and holding them firmly as he sits up, still straddling your hips. “Seeing how you can’t be good now, guess I’ll have to intervene,” he says, holding your wrists in one hand as his other goes to undo his belt.

You shake your head and try to pull your hands out of his hold. “No, please. Don’t do this,” you beg, watching in shock as he wraps the belt around your wrists.

Then he moves your arms over your head, looping the belt once more around the pole of the headboard. “Fucking keep them there,” he orders when he looks back down at you. The look in his eyes tells you that even though you can slip out of the makeshift cuffs, it will be better if you don’t even try.

You nod your head, tears starting to well up in your eyes as he strokes your cheek with the back of his hand. “Good girl, my Дорогая.”

Trembling at the nickname makes him smile down at you, his hands on your hips pushing up your flimsy t-shirt to just below your boobs, exposing your stomach. As he returns to where he was before you tried to push him away, his hands coming to your hips again to slowly pull down your shorts and panties. His eyes flicker back up to yours, a wicked smile growing across his face as he pushes your legs even more open.

With your lower half exposed, he crawls back over your body, his face coming above yours as he stares down into your eyes. “Say his name so that he can hear that you want him to do this to you,” he whispers, his hand cupping your pussy, fingers just teasing you at your entrance. “Beg him to fuck you.”

Your eyes screw shut as he slips a finger through your folds, brushing over your clit, and making your body tense up as you take in a sharp breath. “Bucky, please,” you whimper, a tear escaping your eye and rolling down your cheek. You moan as he slips a finger into you, curling as he thrusts them into you at a slow pace. “Oh God.”

“Fuck, you do want this,” he mutters before pressing his lips to yours, catching your moan before it leaves your mouth when he rubs his thumb in a circle on your clit.

Your body arcs, pressing against him and his hand as he picks up his pace. You want to grab his wrist, have some control on his hand as it fucks into you roughly. But you can’t with your hands still bond above your head. All you can do is kiss him back.

Once again, you’re at his mercy.

His thumb continues to rub your clit, making you moan into his mouth, your body trembling in pleasure as you feel your climax rising. He can feel you clenching around his fingers, your thighs pressing together the faster his fingers thrust into your soaking pussy.

“I shouldn’t let you cum,” he whispers in your ear, his hand stopping and he pulls his fingers out of you, making you whine at the emptiness you feel inside you and the sudden loss of pleasure, your climax now ruined but leaving you wanting more. “Seeing as how you don’t want this at all.”

“No, no, no. Please,” you beg, pulling against the belt tying you to the headboard. “Please.” You almost cry out, pressing your lower body against him.

He chuckles, standing up on his knees so he can get a better view of you pleading and begging for him to fuck you. “Since you asked so nicely. But you’re wearing too much for me.”

And without another word or breath, his hands rip your shirt, the tearing sound causing you to gasp as the rags fall on the bed. He licks his lips at the sight of your exposed breasts and when you quickly glance down to his crotch, you see a prominent bulge in his pants, straining to be released. “I should fuck that beautiful mouth of yours,” he growls, cupping the side of your face to run his thumb over your bottom lip. “But soon. Right now, I want something much sweeter,” he says, glancing down to the spot between your legs. “After all, you did beg me to fuck you.”

Did you? Did you beg for him to fuck you? You can’t recall saying anything like that, but you can’t think straight at the moment.

You watch him undo the zipper of his pants, shoving them down past his hips and disposing them to the side. His cock is hard, springing up straight against his stomach. He’s big too. And thick. It makes you swallow roughly and flinch slightly at the thought that he will fuck you relentlessly with that and nothing you say or do can stop him.

“You can take it,” he moans, pushing your legs open to position himself between them. “I know you can,” he whispers, guiding his cock to your entrance.

He pauses for a moment, the head of his cock teasing your entrance, and his eyes locking with yours. His hand comes up to wipe a tear from your cheek. Then, he slowly pushes into you, making your mouth fall open and your chest filling with air as you stretch around his girth. “God, you’re so tight,” he mutters, his head falling between his shoulders to glance down at where your cunt swallows his cock. “Fucking perfect.”

“Bucky,” you whimper, your hands grabbing the belt around your wrists as you shift to get some kind of movement going.

His lips crash down on yours as his hips begin to thrust into you. He pulls out of you slowly so that just his head remains inside you before slamming into you, groaning at how you clench around him every time. His hand grabs your thigh, gripping it tight enough to probably leave a mark in the morning. He places your leg around his hip, allowing him to thrust deeper into you, causing new levels of pleasure and arousal to fill your body.

You can feel the sweat starting to coat your forehead, and a mixture of sounds from you and Bucky moaning in ecstasy to his hips slapping against yours fills your ears. All you can think about at the moment is the pleasure filling your body, leading to your climax growing again. All you can think about is that you need this. You need a release.

You grind your hips against him, meeting his thrusts as they grow faster and harder, your face falling in the bend of his neck seeing as how you can’t touch him even though your fingertips burn to touch him.

“Bucky.”

Your voice makes his head snap up to you, his eyes telling you that it is Bucky above you now. The Winter Soldier is gone. Bucky doesn’t say anything though and he continues to thrust into you, fucking your cunt and making you moan his name again.

“(Y/n). Fuck, you take me so well, doll,” he growls, pressing his lips to yours in a sloppy kiss that makes your heart pound faster.

He angles his hips in a certain way that hits your sweet spot, almost making you scream in pleasure, your body convulsing and trembling on the bed. “Right there?” he asks, repeating the movement and causing a loud moan to leave your lips as you throw your head back against the pillow. “Right there.”

“Yes. Fuck,” you moan, your eyes screw shut as he sucks on the mark on your neck. “Oh God,” you whimper when he does it again, thrusting into you roughly.

You can feel your release coming, your walls clenching around his cock, milking him toward his own climax. “I can feel you’re close,” he whispers, his lips coming to your ear as he places a hand on the base of your neck. The fear that he could wrap his hand around your throat and choke you makes your heart skip a beat. And yet, it only adds to the pleasure building inside of you like adding fuel to a flame. “You gonna cum around my cock?”

All you can do is moan, your head weakly giving a nod as his thrusts turn harder and deeper. “Say his name. Scream it. Tell him that you’re his.”

It’s the Winter Soldier speaking and you don’t know who is fronting at the moment. But that’s not what you care about. All you care about is the pleasure you feel in your body, building and growing making it feel as if your body is on fire.

“Bucky!”

You have no control over your voice as you scream his name, your climax reaching its peak as immense pleasure washes over you, clouding your already foggy mind. Feeling you clenching around him and the sound of his name leaving your lips makes Bucky fall over the edge himself. You feel him spilling inside of you, his hips stuttering lazily against you to ride out his high, uncaring about how you whimper at the sensitive feeling between your legs.

He pants above you, his face buried in your neck as he stills inside of you. Slowly, he lifts his face to look at you, blinking as the hair curtains his face. “I’ve wanted that for so long, this almost seems like a dream,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours.

Your shoulders begin to ache at the position of your arms, your eyes falling shut as you let out a shaky breath. “Things could have been different if you had said something,” you say, your voice hoarse.

“But things are perfect now. No use thinking about the past when we have a whole future to look forward to now,” he says, nuzzling your face before placing a quick kiss on your lips.

With that, you know that you’ll never see the compound again.

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nonasuch · 1 year

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I know everyone is having fun, but I don’t understand the appeal of pretending a movie was real. I’m someone who struggles with my perception of reality sometimes, and it seems from this side to be a mass gaslighting experiment for funsies? I’m sure that’s not what it’s meant as, but that’s sometimes what it feels like from this end. What makes it fun for you, I guess?

Well, for me personally it’s a couple of things. I enjoy fictional works of fiction as a concept anyway (see also Galaxy Quest, one of my all-time favorite movies) and for me it’s not a huge leap from ‘fictional show or movie inside another show or movie’ to ‘fictional movie made up from whole cloth.’

also I think it’s just fun to tell a story with other people and build it collectively — it’s like improv, where you try to yes-and the last person so you build on the story without contradicting anyone else or breaking the frame. and no one is being too dedicated about the kayfabe, as far as I’ve seen? anyone who asks for an explanation gets one, and everyone in I’ve seen asking “wait is this real” in the notes has gotten an honest answer along with a few silly ones.

but yeah mostly it’s just fun to play! we’re all riffing on the same ideas and kinds of posts we’re familiar with from other (real) fandoms. the people participating mostly have a shared fandom background and vocabulary, and that let us build up the outline of a story (tone, style, rough plot outline, cast of characters) pretty quickly. and now the game is to try and fill in the framework without messing up anybody else’s work.

and at the same time, we can make jokes about the fandom drama that we’ve experienced with real media, with no hard feelings because there’s no real movie underneath. it’s a fun framework for both parodying fandom (and film criticism, and other kinds of media engagement) and talking about it (‘it’ being ‘the way we talk about & engage with media’) in a loving way.

#asked and answered #goncharov

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strawbubbysugar · 6 months

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY @pillowspace I MADE IT JUST UNDER THE WIRE- ENJOY THIS FRANKENFATE AU BIRTHDAY SNIPPET !!!

(Under readmore!)

“Can I come in yet?” Vale sat against their bedroom door, arms crossed, head back as they stared at the ceiling. It was a particularly sunny, warm day, the sort of day that had fluffy white clouds rolling across the sky, high enough that no shadows were cast. If it were up to them, they would’ve been out in their- .. THE forest, helping Sun look for his crown, as they usually spent their days.

However, today they’d been tasked to stay in their room while their unexpected roommate (well, one of them) worked on something secret. They didn’t have a single clue as to what it could’ve been, though with all the banging sounds and the occasional hushed whisper, they weren’t feeling too optimistic.

“June!” They shouted at the door, shutting their eyes and groaning. “JUNE, I JUST HEARD YOU DROP A FULL BOWL.”

“YOU DIDN’T HEAR ANYTHING, YOU’RE IMAGINING THINGS. YOU’RE LITERALLY CRAZY. YOU’RE ACTING CRAZY.” June shouted back, accompanied by the sound of something heavy being dropped back onto the counter.

Vale heard the hushed whispers of Sun, who had asked if he could help- to which June had delightedly agreed that yes, he could! They could vaguely hear June whispering ‘that’s gaslighting, but I’m doing it as a joke so it’s okay. Yeah don’t worry about it big guy.’

They chuckled and rolled their eyes. June was still getting used to this time period, something that still baffled them to no end. There seemed to be plenty of modern conveniences that were so commonplace, so ingrained in daily life, that June barely had the words to describe them.

A machine that washed and dried your clothing for you was simple enough to understand, but a machine that would let you speak to someone far away, that also showed you images of them, as they spoke, as if they were there? That did about a million other things as well, the least of which involving a light brighter than a candle coming from the front of it? The device had been broken upon June’s arrival, and Vale still wasn’t entirely convinced they weren’t pulling their leg about it.

They’d had enough of simply sitting there staring at the ceiling, zoning out in between clangs and hushed whispers. They began to stand up, though they had unfortunately begun to do so the moment the door was opened, knocking them forward after wobbling on their feet.

“Oh, shit! Dude, fuck, sorry!” June gripped under their arms, helping them to stand up, much to Vale’s chagrin.

They dusted themselves off, the only real injury sustained being to their ego as June had watched them faceplant into their carpet, ass over teakettle. “You’re oddly light on your feet for someone who never does put their laces.”

June snorted, grinning their usual lopsided, cheeky smile. “And you’re oddly easy to push over with a door. Were you just sitting there listening??”

“No, I was sitting there awaiting permission to enter the rest of MY house.” They shot back, though their annoyance was undercut by the clear tone of amusement in their voice. “What were you two doing out there?”

“Jeez dude I woulda left you, like, a book or a flower to look at if I’d known you were just gonna sit there.”

“What did you think I’d do??”

June paused for a moment, frozen as they did what June had once called ‘loading’, while they registered what Vale had asked and formulated a response.

“Uh.” They smiled, though a bit more sheepishly now. “Man, I dunno! I thought you’d knit or something!”

“Knit??”

“Something old-timey, yeah!”

“You don’t have knitting in your time???”

“Wh- yeah, we do, but it’s like.. a grandma hobby. I think it’s coming back into fashion though.”

Vale shook their head, once again rendered speechless by June’s nonsense.

“No, June, I didn’t knit. Can I leave the room?? I’d like some fresh air.”

June quickly blocked their way, arms spread out to the sides. Unfortunately for Vale, they did have the height advantage.

“Wait! Wait wait wait. Are you sure you’re ready?”

“Ready to enter my own house??” They scrunched up their nose, eyes squinted in confusion as they placed their hands on their friend’s stomach, pushing them forward.

June didn’t budge, fingers hooked on the doorway to keep steady. “Are you ready for your SURPRISE!” He laughed. “Stop. I’m ticklish.”

Vale could practically hear the sound of Sun registering that information and saving it for later use, even from where he presumably was in the kitchen. Vale cracked a smile and shook their head. “Yes, I’m ready to both see my surprise, and clean up whatever mess you two made.”

“Oh come on, you know Sun was already all over that. I’ve never seen a dude more excited to wash a dish in my life.”

Vale chuckled at the idea. Taking favours from the gods certainly wasn’t something they’d ever do, not in a million years. However, June seemed more than happy to take whatever the god offered. It was more than once Vale had to stop them from agreeing to receive ridiculous, extravagant things in exchange for the two human’s assistance- worried that it would count as them taking the favour as well. However, once Sun had promised to clarify when something was a friendly gesture and when something was a godly boon, June had been allowed to accept as much help as they’d like.

Though Vale still wouldn’t be partaking. Just in case.

June let them through under their arm, grinning with delight and waving their hands in clenched fists at their sides. They’d called it ‘stimming’, once. Vale had tried it and had to admit that it felt nice to get that energy out, but found they preferred to keep their limbs under control. They glanced back to them with furrowed brows, beginning to grow nervous about the supposed surprise. It couldn’t possibly be.. no. It couldn’t. They hadn’t told a soul.

Stepping around the corner, they were greeted by their divine housemate, as he held out his hands in greeting.

“SURPRISE!” He beamed, flourishing his hands as small colourful sparks rained down from his fingers.

In front of him was a cake, lopsided and frosted in a manner that appeared not too dissimilar to the way Vale imagined a raccoon would frost a cake. Dollops of icing littered the edges in what seemed to have started as a pattern, but soon collapsed into complete chaos. The colour was somewhere between grey and blue, a result likely to be due to the berries used that also acted as decoration on the top, dotting their own pieces of frosting. Coming closer, they saw the elegant cursive handwriting, as well as the smeared icing hastily scraped off from previous attempts that had been deemed less than perfect.

Happy Birthday Friend!

Vale blinked several times in surprise, glancing between Sun, who was still beaming, and the cake. “I .. I didn’t tell either of you that it was my birthday, how did you ..”

“I’m the god of day!” Sun piped up. “And it is a birthDAY! Stands to reason that I would know each of them by heart!”

“Oh, I told Sun that if he told me when your birthday was, I’d take his favours and ask him to make dragons real.” June smiled, leaning their hands against the counter. Sun looked to them, eyebrow raised in confusion.

June quickly waved their hands at Vale when they saw the immediate flush of panic on their face, laughing worriedly. “WHOA WHOA IT WAS A GOOF ITS OKAY-“ their hands met Vale’s shoulders, steading them.

“Not funny-“ Vale groaned, head lolling back. “Gods, I felt my heart touch my feet.”

June chuckled, patting their head and mussing up their hair the second they were sure they had a solid footing once again. “Aw cmon, it was a little funny. I asked the baker in town, after he mentioned next week being special last week when we visited.”

“I should really ask him not to give away secrets to strangely dressed newcomers.” Vale muttered, glancing over their two odd companions. They looked over the cake and felt a fondness settle over them like a warm blanket.

These two had really put in far more effort into this cake than necessary. They’d tried so hard on it, and while it wasn’t perfect, it was clearly a labour of love. The sort that sent warm fuzzies to Vale’s cheeks at the thought that their friends would do this for them.

“.. but thank you. Truly. It looks .. delicious.” They smiled warmly at the both of them, though they stumbled over the last word. Delicious wasn’t the first one they’d thought of.

They were surprised once again as they were pulled into a large, warm hug by June, soon followed by a Sun who had spent a good majority of the morning cooling himself down for this. He easily wrapped his arms around the two mortals and gave a gentle squeeze, earning an ‘eep!’ From Vale, and a laugh from June.

Eating the cake would be its own challenge later, but for now, the hug was its own gift, and one welcomed with open arms as Vale melted into their friend’s arms, closing their eyes and basking in the warmth.

#frankenfate #writing #<tagged ig??? I don’t usually post it directly onto tumblr hsfhs #fwiends #I HOPE YOU LIKE IT

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cleoluvrr · 1 year

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The Last Days of Summer XVII (Rafe Cameron x Heyward!OC)

Warnings: violence, underage drinking, drug use, verbal abuse, jealousy, forbidden relationship, enemies to lovers, kidnapping, gaslighting + manipulation

Synopsis: Stuck in a situation she never dreamed of, Neriah Heyward blurs the line between Kook and Pogue; Rafe Cameron a witness.

masterlist

word count: 3.2k+

↠━ღ◆ღ━↞

I don’t remember falling asleep, and I definitely don’t remember being embraced by the smell of fresh linen fabric softener.

The feeling of soft duvet weighed heavy on my body, the bright light of the sun forcing itself through my closed eyelids as the sound of birds chirping filled my barely conscious ears. It would almost lull me back to sleep if I didn’t immediately remember what happened the day before.

Shooting up in the soft bed, I throw the blanket off me and fly off the mattress. I still wore the same clothes I was brought here in, the smell of the ocean and sweat radiating off my body in waves. I smelt like I was in a boat and I needed a shower. Bad.

I walk towards the door leading out of the simple, all white room I had been stuck in, hand reaching out to try the door handle. To my surprise it was unlocked and opened up silently to reveal the hallway outside. On the left side of the hall was a balcony overlooking what I assume is the living room and on the right side is a wall of windows. I stepped out further into the hall, my bare feet softly padding against the floor as I creeped out of the room.

I hear voices coming from the area below, both of them feminine. Peeking over the railing, I spot Wheezie and Rose sitting on a couch in the very open living room. I yank my head back, not wanting either of them to see me.

My feet carry me down the stairs silently, body on edge as I listen for any signs of Rafe being around. My head is on a swivel as when I reach the bottom of the stairs, cautious of my surroundings.

Rose’s voice in my ears makes me grit my teeth in annoyance. It’s no wonder none of her step children like her.

My hand pushes open the back door of the house quietly as I step out onto the newly discovered patio. The wood flooring is warm against my bare soles from the beaming sun, but the ocean breeze is cool against my skin in contrast. The patio overlooks a bright blue chlorine pool and the expansive green of the backyard. One side of the house is hidden by trees, a forest of palm branches seemingly endless as they hang over the roof and cast a shadow over the pool.

I walk towards the railing of the side porch, arms resting against the white painted wood as I stare out at the acres of empty land in front of me. It was very scenic, a house right next to the shore with a big, open yard. You would never think I’m being held hostage by its owners.

My eyes fall to the road in the front of the house, the only possible escape route I have. I make no moves towards the pavement despite it being so close. I have no shoes, no idea where I am, don’t speak french, and I’m sure Rafe is somewhere close enough to catch me before I get too far.

“Goodmorning.” I hear a dreaded voice speak. My lips purse, my short-lived peace disturbed by the last person I wanted to be around.

I release a heavy sigh as he approaches, head dropping in defeat. I don’t turn around to face him although I feel the heat of radiating against my bag, the smell of his cologne filling my nose and masking the smell of sweat and old furniture that has sunken into my clothes.

I say nothing in return, my mouth far too dry to form words.

“You were asleep for two days, y’know.” Rafe says. “You really had us worried. Had me worried.”

I don’t react outwardly, though I feel my eyes widen slightly at his words.

I was asleep for two days? I've been wearing these clothes for four days? Rafe and his family were doing God knows what for two days while I had no idea what was happening around me? I don’t even remember being that tired, especially since I was asleep for an unknown amount of time after Rose dosed my tea.

I don’t resist when Rafe wraps his arms around my body in a tight embrace. I don’t flinch when he kisses the top of my head, or my cheek, or my shoulder. The position feels familiar to me; like when we were on the ship and he ripped me away from my freedom.

“I’m sorry…” He mumbles into my shoulder, the sound muffled by the skin. My jacket is long gone, not that I remember taking that off either. “I’m sorry for hurting you, but I had no choice.”

I scoffed and shoved him off of me, spinning around to finally face him.

“Come on, don’t be like that.” He says lowly.

The blonde looks as handsome as ever, expression soft as he watches me with sad, blue eyes. He looks fresh out of the shower, hair still damp and stringy as it hangs against his forehead. In his usual dress of khaki shorts and a casual light blue polo, it reminded me of the old him.

The Rafe that I would banter with, the Rafe that I grew to care about. The one that I trusted.

“You had a choice, Rafe.” I reply sharply, tongue heavy in my mouth with dehydration. “You had a choice, and you made it.”

“You..you think I wanted to make that choice?” His eyebrows shoot up into his hairline, eyes wide as he questions me. “I wouldn’t have had to do that if you would just listen to me!”

I scoffed at him, eyes rolling as he placed the blame on me instead of on himself.

“Oh, so it’s my fault?” My arms fold across my chest firmly, irritation riddling my voice the longer he stands here in front of me.

“I didn’t say it’s your fault. I didn’t say that, so don’t put words in my mouth.”

“Do I need to remind you that I don’t need to listen to you? I’m a grown woman, you don’t get to tell me what I do.” I smack his hand away when he reaches for my arm. “You especially don’t get to rip me away from my home, shove me on a boat, and drag me to an island with you and your weird ass family.”

“And yet, here we are!” Rafe exclaims in a huff of humorless laughter, arms thrown up in the air as if he can’t understand why I’m upset.

I move forward to go back to the room I woke up in, shoving past Rafe with my shoulder. He follows close after me, feet heavy as they slap against the wooden panels of the patio.

He calls my name repeatedly as he follows me back into the house, his voice distant in my ears despite our proximity to each other. Rose and Wheezie watch as he stomps up the stairs after me, conversation interrupted by his temper tantrum.

“Neriah!” He calls out again.

I continue to ignore him, pushing open the door to the white room I was in earlier. He follows me in and slams the door behind him, lock clicking before continuing on. I sit down on the disheveled bed and watch Rafe closely as he takes a few steps towards my seated figure.

“You can’t ignore me forever.” He states with arms crossed against his chest, posture mirroring my own.

“You can’t expect me to willingly talk to you.” I reply back, completely unamused by his refusal to understand my reluctance to converse with him.

“I said I was sorry, Neriah! What else do you want from me?”

“I want you to take me the hell home!” I yell frustratedly. My patience had run out long ago and I was tempted to start swinging at the boy standing before me. “I want you to take me home, that’s literally all I ask of you.”

Rafe groans loudly and throws his head back in frustration. He begins walking again, this time to the other side of the room and back. His brooding figure paces back and forth in front of me silently as he thinks of his next sentence.

He looks more stressed and anxious than he usually does, shoulders tense and face drawn together tightly. Each time he turns to walk back towards me, his eyes study my form wordlessly.

“I can’t do that.” He says finally, abruptly pausing his pacing. He looks down at me with pursed lips, head shaking side to side in refusal. “I can’t do that, it’s not safe.”

“What do you mean it’s not safe? My family is probably worried sick-”

“Not safe for me. For my family.” Rafe interrupts. His tongue pokes out for a split second to wet his lips, the pink muscle catching my attention for the briefest moment before my gaze returns to his.

I pull my eyebrows together in confusion. What does that have to do with me?

“Didn’t you just say I’m a part of your family now? What happened to that?” He shakes his head at me as soon as the words leave my mouth.

“I want you to be, I do. Your name would be even more beautiful with Cameron at the end. But you know too much.” He continues to explain, voice shaking with anxiety. “You know my dad is alive, you know where we are. I can’t let you go back.”

“Rafe-”

“No! No!” He shouts, his long index finger pointing at my face. I notice the family ring on his hand, the one that his father normally wore. “No. I have to protect my family. I promised dad that I would, so I will. If that means I have to keep you here, then that’s what I’m going to do.”

I smack his hand out of my face and push myself off the bed, placing myself directly in front of him.

“What does me going home have to do with your family, Rafe?” I ask loudly, voice raising to match his volume. “I want to go home to my family, I couldn’t give a fuck about yours.”

Taking a deep breath, I walk to the opposite side of the room. I take in everything about it that I didn’t before, the simple beach painting hanging from one of the walls, the glass doors leading to a balcony overlooking the side of the house, the large, white dresser pushed up against the wall.

I walked towards a medium sized vanity in the corner, eying my disheveled appearance in the reflective glass of the mirror.

Rafe follows me again, proving him incapable of giving me any personal space. We stare at each other in the mirror, the state of our beings the complete opposite.

Reluctantly, I pull my eyes away from the depths of his and look around the room in search of my belongings. I couldn’t stand looking less presentable for much longer.

I leave him alone by the mirror and walk towards the plain white door in the corner. My assumption was proven correct after yanking it open to reveal a decently sized walk-in closet. The right side of the closet held Rafe’s belongings, his down sized wardrobe lining the rack and drawers on his side. The opposite side was completely empty, save for the few bags that I packed to spend the weekend at Tannyhill.

“I didn’t want to cross any boundaries, so I left your stuff for you to unpack.” He says from the other side of the room. I almost laugh at the absurdity of his statement.

“How considerate of you.” I sneer at him, shutting the closet door after dragging the bag carrying my clothes out of the storage space. “I think we are far past the point of broken boundaries. Don’t you?”

I throw the bag atop the bed and roughly pull at the zipper to reveal my fresh clothes. The smell of my room back at Kildare hits my nose immediately.

“Rafe…” I sigh, body spinning around to face him. I didn’t hear him move from his spot by the vanity, but I felt the body heat that revealed his presence behind me for a third time. “I won’t tell anyone that I was here. I’ll just say that I needed some space and went to the mainland for a few days, no one has to know what happened.”

He releases a deep exhale and shakes his head at me, once again denying my request. His blue eyes wander over my face for a long moment before he speaks, taking in the grief that weighs down my features.

“I don’t trust you.” He says. My head jerks back in offense, a sound of disapproval leaving my throat at his words.

“You don’t trust me? That’s very fucking ironic, Rafe.” I laugh out loud harshly, the sarcasm of it made obvious through my otherwise stoic features. “Comedic, even.”

“No, I don’t trust you.” Rafe looks unamused by my theatrics, head tilting to the side in annoyance as he listens to my dry laughter. “I don’t trust you to go back there and keep your mouth shut about the shit you’ve seen. How do I know you won’t go running that pretty little mouth to the first sheriff you see, huh? What are you gonna tell your parents?”

“I already told you I’m not going to tell anybody? What reason do I have to lie about that?”

He closes his eyes and rests his hands on his forehead, fingers working to flatten out the stress wrinkles between his brows. His tongue pokes out of the confines of his mouth again, the moisture on his lips shining in the sunlight shining through the windows.

“You’re too unpredictable. You don’t trust me, so I definitely don’t trust you to not say a word.” Rafe’s voice is flat as he speaks, eyes still shut and lightly fluttering involuntarily.

“I have every reason not to trust you, Rafe! Have you lost your fucking mind?” I’m sure Rose and Wheezie can hear everything I’m saying, my voice echoing off the walls of the house as I yelled at the blonde in front of me.

“Do you think I’m stupid? You think I really believe you’re just gonna act like nothing happened?” Rafe asks rhetorically. “I don’t trust you, so you aren’t leaving my sight. Especially not when those Pogues could be anywhere right now.”

“They could be fucking dead right now, Rafe.”

“Is that supposed to be such a bad thing?” He says. I looked at him in bewilderment, not sure if I correctly heard what just escaped his lips. “Less problems for us if they’re gone.”

“My brother could be dead, Rafe! Your sister could be fucking dead and that’s what you have to say?” Rage engulfs my entire body, stomach turning at his blatant dismissal of such a serious topic.

“My dad could be dead right now too, Neriah!” He says in the same tone as me. I almost flinch at the base in his voice, the sound unfamiliar to me. “My dad could be dead, in fact, he almost died because John B tried to kill him. He’s in a coma because your little pogue brother and his friends don’t know how to butt out.”

I swallow dryly, tongue heavy in my mouth. Ward’s in a coma? Is that why Rafe is wearing his ring?

“So I’m supposed to do, what? Stay here with you forever?” My eyebrows are drawn together tightly as I question him. “I’m supposed to pretend there’s not a bunch of kids out there that could be dead or lost at sea?”

Rafe shrugs his shoulders in response, his body language showing that he couldn’t care any less if they lived or died. His behavior made my stomach turn in anger, my dropped jaw turning into a sneer of disgust.

The blonde rolls his eyes at my display once again as if he was the one that should be annoyed right now. He huffs out a breath of air, lips smacking together loudly.

“What I’m worried about right now is protecting my dad. My—my family.” He says finally after an awkward pause on my end. He points towards the door at his father on the other side, the mad hidden away somewhere in this house. “I don’t give a damn about Sarah because she doesn’t give a damn about us. Don’t you get that? She would leave our own dad to die to go be a street rat with her boyfriend. I’m sorry about your brother, but he was just collateral damage.”

“Collateral damage?”

“Yes, collateral damage.” He continues on immediately, not eleven giving me the chance to finish speaking. “I have bigger shit to worry about right now than a bunch of Pogues and my sellout sister, okay? I’m the man of the family until my dad wakes up, if he wakes up, so excuse me for not caring about some—some miniscule outside shit that doesn’t matter in the long run.”

I bite down on my bottom lip to stop myself from cursing at him, the pain preferable to saying something I shouldn’t while stuck on a remote island with a man that has clearly lost his mind. Rafe’s eyes fall to the soft flesh stuck between my teeth and he sucks in a deep breath.

I release the chapped skin from the prison of my teeth and drop my eyes to the floor.

“Get the hell out.” I say shortly. He looks like he wants to laugh at me, the slight smirk on his face only managing to piss me off even more. “Get the hell out of my room, Rafe.”

“Your room?” He points at the closet containing both of our things before looking back at me. “This is our room. I don’t have to go anywhere.”

“Fine! I’ll leave then.” He grabs my arm before I get a chance to take more than three steps around him.

His fingers dig into my flesh painfully and I wince, his grip not wavering as I attempt to pull away from his steel grip.

“Rafe, let me go. I’m not going to ask you again.”

“You can be mad at me all you want, I don’t care. It doesn’t change anything.” He says.

I stumble a bit as he pulls me closer to him, his face only inches away from mine. His breath is minty against my face and the scent of his cologne fills my nose, the familiarity of it leading my mind to wander to brief memories of our moments of closeness back home.

“I need to make sure my family is safe, and it may not seem like it, but everything I do is to keep you safe too.” Rafe leans and plants a soft kiss to my cheek, right next to my lips. My eye twitches at the contact, but I make no other movement. “It’ll all work out in the end, I promise.”

He releases me finally, my arm surely bruised once again from his less than gentle handling. Walking to the other side of the bed, he sits down and digs in his pocket to reveal a new phone that I’ve never seen.

Gritting my teeth together, I grab a change of clothes out of my suitcase on the bed before entering the open door of the ensuite bathroom.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey #obx1 #obx2 #outer banks #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x oc #obx fanfiction #obx3 #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks fanfiction #pope heyward

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poisonpercy · 4 months

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Watching episode 1, here are my thoughts

Baby Percy is adorable. They did amazing casting for younger Percy because how are you going to tell me that’s not Walker Scobell

Percy is low key a good artist. His drawings of the monsters he’s seeing are way better than I expected

Grover and Percy, my cuties 🥹🥹

Percy looking at the Perseus statue has me bawling my eyes out

That quote about how everyone who looks like a hero isn’t a hero and how everyone who looks like a monster isn’t a monster is very good. That very much is the core of pjo

Nancy Bobofit is perfect lmao

I don’t like Chiron giving Percy Riptide when he did. I like how it’s done in the books better

Percy and Grover switching items of their sandwiches is so cute. Besties

The fountain scene is funny ngl. It looked so fake 💀

The Mrs. Dodds fight scene was lame

“Is he dead?” Lol

Chiron and Grover and their gaslight gatekeep girlboss moment. Poor Percy

Grover how dare you betray Percy in the principal’s office 😭😭 I would never forgive him for that if I was Percy

“At least I know you think you didn’t.” I’M GOING TO BITE CHIRON’S HEAD OFF

No Greyhound bus scene? No Percy seeing the fates cut the string? No Grover saying that it’s always 6th grade? Those scenes shouldn’t have been cut wtf

Eddie is nice??

Why is Gabe funny? He’s supposed to be an asshole, he’s not supposed to be funny

Sally listening to Olivia Rodrigo while sitting in the rain is stupid. THEY CUT THE WHOLE GREYHOUND BUS SCENE BUT ADD THIS??? MAKE IT MAKE SENSE

Blue jellybeans 🥺🥺

Why are Sally and Gabe low key friends?? How is his murder via Medusa’s head justified with this behavior? Gabe better get worse

The show is too dark. I have my laptop at full brightness and it’s still hard to see

Why is Sally telling Percy about his dad being a god while at Montauk? I like how it happens in the book better

“You feel in love with God? Like Jesus?” Lol

No because why is Percy being told everything before even leaving Montauk? He should be in the dark and have his life flipped upside while he’s grieving Sally at camp

“Why are you telling me this?” <- I would also like the answer to that question

“Grover, why is there half a goat in your pants?” Idk but something about how that line is phrased is hilarious

The car scene is literally so dark. I can’t see anything that is happening

“I’m actually 24.” Grover, now is not the time to explain the weird aging of satyrs

Why is Sally putting so much pressure on Grover. That’s not Sally 🤨 I like Sally’s actress but I don’t think the people in the writer’s room get her character

This pacing is wack. Literally why is everything moving so fast??

I don’t like that Percy has Riptide during the fight with the Minotaur. Actually, I don’t like the fight scene at all. It’s so boring and I can hardly see what’s happening

Overall, it’s cute. I don’t love it, but I don’t hate it. I’m going to be honest, I don’t care about the characters or story so far because I feel like I’m being told I should care, but not shown why I should care. The pacing is horrible so far. Everything is moving too fast. The show also suffers from having horrible lighting. It’s hard to care about what’s happening when you can’t see what’s happening on the screen. It’s all very boring right now. Where’s the chaos that kept me hooked the first time?? Actors are great, I’ll give them that. But the show is so far not doing it for me

#pjo adaptation #percy jackson #pjo #skys post

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vibratingskull · 5 months

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Yandere!Thrawn x F!reader chapter 7

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Tag: Yandere behaviors (duh), gaslighting, feeding, bathing

You wake up with a terrible headache. One of your eyes barely opens and you can’t move your body, too ankylosed.

You’re…. You’re neither in the med bay nor your room? You’re on satin covers in a double bed in a large bedroom that you don’t know. You lower your gaze to see your arm and your leg in a cast. Your nose is super painful, you’re convinced it’s broken. In fact your whole body is terribly painful, you try to roll on your side and feel all your bones crack.

You abandon the idea of rolling up, standing up is impossible, walking is a dream…

What now?

You try to push your body in a sitting position and manage after groans of pain and failed attempts. When you finally succeed the door in front of the bed slides open.

“ You are awake, I am relieved.” Thrawn says with a comforting smile.

“Thrawn?” You ask, head still foggy “Where… Where am I? Why am I not in my room?”, “Still as sharp as ever, I see. You are in my bedroom.”

You just remain mute at that fact. His room?

He simply sits on the edge of the bed and puts his hand on your forehead. “You have no fever, that is reassuring.”, “Why am I not in the med bay?” you inquire. “Spirits are too heated to let you without surveillance and security, so I took it upon myself to look after you.” He says softly, almost joyfully.

“I… Thank you.” you just mutter. “You are welcome.” He smiles. “I could not leave you in open danger like that.” You shiver, he didn’t say “contrary to you.” but you clearly felt it. You slowly raise your gaze to him, almost timidly and he meets it with clear resolute eyes. “You put us in a difficult situation, earlier.” He chides “I hope you are aware of your responsibilities in what happened.”

What responsibilities? You got beat up by a mob of angry colleagues…

“I… No?” You groan in pain, pulling on the cover over yourself in a self soothing motion. “I’m having a hard time seeing how it could be my fault?” you say genuinely lost.

“If you did not stray from the right path you would not have incurred the wrath of your tormentor.” He explains. Stray from the right path? What does that mean? What did you do? You did nothing wrong, right? What could have you done wrong? You mentally repass the last months in your head trying to find the catalyst of that hate and violence but you followed orders diligently, you didn’t speak ill of anybody, you didn’t do anything reprehensible or wrong to someone. So what did you do? The only thing coming to your mind is Thrawn, but he would never do such a thing! He is not twisted like that.

You must have done something or this wouldn’t have happened to you. Right?

“I… I don’t know, I just…”. He cuts you, raising his open hand, “It is useless to brood over your past errors. You cannot do anything to erase them, what you have done is done and here to stay. The only thing you can do is work harder to right your wrongs.”

“Thrawn, I assure you… I did nothing.”, “Now, now, (Y/n). You clearly have done something, people do not turn against others for the simple pleasure of it. I wish I was there to help you in that moment but I needed time to heal after what you have done to me.” He calmly explains.

“I… I am sorry, Thrawn.” you murmur honestly, shuddering. “I accept your excuses. But that will be the only time.” He mercifully conceded. “Not everyone is as understanding as I am, you should be more careful.”

“I’m… sorry…” you can only repeat. He takes your hand and squeezes it with a gentle smile. “Now, we should focus on your recovery. I defend you from leaving the bed and my suite.”, “I hardly see how I can even roll on the side, I’m completely paralyzed.”, “Poor thing. I will help you, then.” he just responds as if it was obvious.

“What? No! You have work and things to do, leave me with a droid, I will find a way to manage”, “Your frail body is still too fragile to be manipulated by crude mechanical beings, they will only hurt you more. Let me take care of everything.” He counters. You’re about to retort something back when you cross his eyes.

You shiver.

Something in his gaze makes you shut up instantly. He is smiling but his eyes aren’t laughing. They are dark and resolute. This is not a proposition from your friend but an order from your Grand Admiral.

“...Alright, Grand Admiral.” you submit reluctantly. “That is the spirit.” he answers with a dark cold voice inciting no resistance. “You will have a warm dinner and then I will run you a bath.”

You do not need to know he is the one that cleaned your body each evening when you were unconscious. He will leave that detail out… But he didn’t deprive himself to take some pictures and movies. Why would he? You are such a beautiful model by the way.

You lower your gaze, defeated and he softens at your expression. He squeezes your hand again and pulls on the covers revealing your little pajamas and your leg, indeed, in a cast. Your eyes open wide, you were sleeping in those little shorts in his bed??! Argh!

He very carefully scoops up your body to bring you to the living room.

“Thrawn, let me down immediately!” you protest, “What a way to speak to your superior trying to help, Lieutenant Commander (Y/l/n).” You gulp, biting your lips, he’s gonna play that card now?

He lays you on a chair and hands you a plate, inviting you to start dining. He simply sits next to you, observing you intently. You purse your lips, embarrassed “You’re not gonna dine with me?” you ask, “I have already eaten.” He bows his head slightly.

You grasp the fork and start eating under his intense gaze. Or rather you try, your dominant hand is in the cast and you don’t do well with the other. After several unsuccessful attempts you start losing patience and groan between your teeth.

“Let me help.” He falsely sighs impatiently. He takes your plate and cuts the meat in manageable pieces and picks one with the fork and extends his hand to you, like someone helping a child to eat.

Your gaze travels between the juicy bites of meat on the fork to his calm expression. There is no way you’re doing that! “No.” You just say, shaking your head. “You are a grown woman, you should know when to admit you need help.” he stoically assesses.

You wrinkle your nose before giving in and let him feed you. You’ve never been so humiliated! Spoon-feeded like a goddamn child! You swallow with reluctance but eat nonetheless. It pains you to admit it but this is delicious, way better than what is served in the mess halls of the Chimaera. You let a moan escape you as you savor the creamy sauce.

Isn’t it weird to have you eat something solid that needs both hands to be cut, shouldn't you have a simple soup instead? It’s like it is purposefully made to put you in situations where you need his help… Surely not, surely it is a coincidence.

“There, good girl.” He praises you.

You froze completely. Did he just say what he just said?

“What did you call me?” you ask with a shaken voice. “I simply called you a good girl, to support you.” He responds like it is the most normal thing in the world, “I know it is hard to eat with a cast.”. “Hm hm.” You’re not convinced. At all. “I’m not sure I am comfortable…”, “My excuses. Where I came from we are not shy with pet names between friends. It is a force of habits.” he outrageously lies. But how could you know anything about his cultural background anyway? You can only take his words at face value.

“Oh… Okay…” you accept, it doesn’t please you but if he can’t help it, what can you really do? “Now you need to eat to recover some strength, at least three more bites.” He orders, blowing on the hot meat to freshen it up, “Here.”. You obediently eat, swallowing your pride to be forced to eat like a two year old and feeling embarrassed to force a Grand Admiral, your friend, to take his precious times to help you like that.

He takes a napkin and wipes your lips clean with a lopsided grin while you protest “I can at least do that myself!” you bite but he shushes you. He is tremendously pleased by the situation while you are infuriated. You’ll come to your senses soon, when you realize you cannot do anything without his help you’ll relax and obey, you are at his complete mercy, wounded, paralyzed, nobody knows he came to carry you out of the med bay, you cannot do the most basic tasks without his help. He has you all to himself! His heart flutters thinking of all those future weeks of intimate and privileged moments with you. He's on the verge of implosion.

What bliss!

You seemed soooo enraged eating like that, but obediently submitted realizing you had no choice. He could do that all day! Cutting your meat and feeding you, he wants you to eat on his large laps, you so petite, so minuscule compared to his huge stature, your weight was so light in his arms, so fragile… A real porcelain doll, to be manipulated and treated with the utmost consideration and tenderness.

He can do that! He is a Chiss and a deadly warrior with the highest body count imaginable but he can be oh so tender for you. Just for you… Tender and soft, treating you like a Goddess.

But now it is time to bathe you!

He carries you to the bathroom bridal style with such ease it is almost insulting to you. And he left you there, letting you alone fully knowing you’ll need his help to just undress.

But he wants YOU to call for him, to admit you cannot do anything alone, giving him a pretext to bath you himself.

And sure enough, after two minutes he hears a faint call for his name. “Thrawn…”

He re-enters the bathroom with a false wondering expression. You’re sitting on the tube, head in your hand, looking tired. “A problem?” he politely asks, “I can’t even undress, could you please help me?” You ask, defeated and humiliated. “Of course.”

He helps you undress, the tips of his fingers only slightly grazing your naked skin, leaving goosebumps on their trails. Your skin is so soft… He wants to lick it with the flat of his tongue right here and there! Lick every crook and cranny of your body, making you his. But he abstains himself.

Now it is not the time.

You become suddenly shy and squeamish when it is time to get rid of your bra and panties. Suddenly your gaze avert his eyes and you turn your head to not look at him. He unclips your bra with ease and he feels you shudder when the soft fabric slides off your delicate skin and kneels and hooks your panties, “innocently” caressing your thighs as they roll down your legs. You can’t hide neither your breast nor your sex because you have to take support on him to just stand without falling and he hid any towels in advance, leaving you completely bare before him. “I am sorry to ask you such a thing.” You confess, heat burning your cheeks, biting your lips. “It is quite okay, I knew what it entailed when I accepted to take care of you.”

He doesn’t smile, remaining stoic and serious but it is so funny to have you say sorry while everything is exclusively his fault. And everything is happening as he planned all along. How he loves when a plan goes smoothly, especially a plan so delicious as this one…

You’re shaking, exposed like never before. He runs the bath and gently helps you enter so you don’t slip. You sit down with a wince of pain and jump out of your skin when you feel his hands full of soap on your back. You turn to him shocked “What are you doing?” Why did he not leave already?

“You can barely sit without help, I do not know how you can properly wash yourself.” He tilts his head like he doesn’t understand your outrage. “I… You… I will manage!”, “Come on now, we are both adults. Let me help, the more you do, the sooner it will end.” You grit your teeth, digging your nails in your palms, but let him do it. He’s right. As always…

But he takes his sweet, sweet time, thoroughly washing every once of your skin. Yes, EVERY once. He forces you to lift your arms to wash your breast and open your legs to scrub your inner thighs. “Isn’t it excessive?” You try to signal him politely, voice shaking, but he doesn’t care, “I know where germs like to hide on a body.” He responds with a calm, almost uninterested tone as he massages your left boob to lather it up, he grabs it well, resist the urge to pinch your nipple (so, so tempting), feeling its weight in his warm palms and revels in the softness of your flesh. You truly are perfection incarnated!

You? You’re trembling terribly, words blocked in your throat and shallow breaths barely reach your lungs. How did you came to that? How did you???? You appreciate his willingness to help but his perfectionism pushes things too far to your taste, but for any complaints you have he has a sound argument in return. You give him embarrassed side glances, he looks as stoic as usual, like he has seen millions naked bodies in his life and yours is just one among others. He clinically washes you, scrubbing your whole body with soap, with his disinterested gaze floating over your body like a simple heap of flesh. He clearly is not as disturbed as you are.

Maybe it's you? Maybe you really are just acting like a spoiled child and should let him do his work without disturbing him…

He carefully gives each part of your body the same amount of attention to not appear suspicious, and truthfully? Your hands and feets deserve the same amount of care from him as your breast.

He is in heaven. You are letting him touch you so intimately… Not really enthusiastically consenting to it of course, but still. What progress! He wants to hold you close, to kiss your neck, to trail your sensitive slit…

One day he will have all of that, he promised himself.

He scrubs your body with towels, preventing you from wrapping you in one while pretending to help you. He notices your nails are a bit long, he should take the time to file them, he would even apply some nail polish if you wish.

He gives you a new outfit (that he had tailored to his personal tastes) with new undergarments (why does he have that in the first place?) and sneakily robs you of your dirty ones. He needs them for his personal times.

Aren’t you so cute in those clothes? Aren’t you adorable in those colors? The light dress is perfectly cut, hugging your delicious forms tight, leaving little to the imagination but is long enough to not raise suspicion from you.

“Why not a uniform?” you ask confused. “You are not in service while in remission, I thought you would appreciate some liberties in your range of clothing.” Liberties that he will choose the limits of, of course.

He gently scoops you up again, “Hold on to me.” He casually says. You circle his neck with your arm, pressing you against his large, warm body. You strangely feel safe in his arms despite what just happened, like it is your true place, in his arms… You shake your head.

“I will need to leave you for the rest of the afternoon, my break ended an hour ago.” He informs you, laying you on the bed, tugging you under the covers. “Oh no! I’m so sorry, Thrawn.” You present your excuses, “It was necessary, I would not have let you roam my suite naked and soapy.” He chuckles.

Only joking, of course he would have if he listened to himself.

He hands you your drawing folder with a board game, “I have a TV in my bedroom and there is some holobooks in the bedside table, if you need anything ring me on my comlink.” And he adds only for himself “I will come running immediately.”

But you don’t hear him. He gently smiles at you and kisses your forehead delicately “I will come back as soon as I can.”

@bluechiss @blueninjablade3 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay

#yandere au #thrawn x reader #thrawn x you #thrawn x f!reader #thrawn #grand admiral thrawn #mitth’raw’nuruodo #fanfic #vibratingskull

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