#and a place to stay. I’m done here. Except for the dogs I will always love and miss them 😭😭😭 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jinkookspencil · 1 year

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stay | jjk

jungkook is drunk out of his mind, belting pop ballads in the middle of the night.... you had to check in on him

description/tw/tags: ~4k words / jungkook x (f) reader / one-shot / angst and fluff / friends to lovers / inspired by jungkook's recent lives!! i just had to :') / includes drunk, flirty jungkook and mentions of alcohol and drinking / oc stays sober / jungkook gets so drunk thinks he's having a steamy dream with oc gone wrong / feedback is always welcome and it's appreciated!! it's been a while since anyone really told me their honest thoughts on my fics 💗

Celine Dion’s voice blasting through your phone was not what you expected when you got a call from Jungkook, but it was enough for you to know exactly what he was doing. It was an odd thing, you realized. Jungkook never had never admitted to listening to Celine Dion, Taylor Swift, Adele, or any other musical queen you adored - he never protested when you blasted their songs through the car radio or when you belted out their songs during karaoke nights, but he never, ever sang along or reacted much either…. except for when he was drunk… except for when he was too drunk. And it was only ever when he was drunk and alone or drunk and with you. In front of his friends or to you when he was sober, he still pretended he couldn't name a Celine Dion song besides "the Titanic one." But you knew better. Between her iconic vocals through the phone, you could hear Bam’s dog collar jingling, Jungkook’s all over the place but still excellent singing and humming, and finally… sniffles. In the blink of an eye, you were in a cab on your way to his place, not hanging up and listening to him sing “My Heart Will Go On” and "All By Myself" over and over until you got there. Right at the brief moment of silence when the song ended, you knocked on the door, extra loudly and in your signature pattern, so he’d know it was you - but it seemed to only signal Bam, who obviously knew it was you before Jungkook did, jumping up and down even before his owner opened the door in confusion.

“Bamie-,” you giggle against the dog’s nose while he licks yours, Jungkook still disoriented when you look up at him.

“H-hiiiiii,” he forces a smile on his face after realizing you were actually there. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard Celine Dion, so I came,” you say, ruffling Jungkook’s long hair and plopping down on his living room couch. He’s still standing by the door, trying to realize the situation. “You must’ve drunk-called me while trying to choose a song, idiot. Or maybe you were trying to call someone else.” You push away the thought. “Anyways, I’m here to make sure you’re okay. And to see the secret Taylor Swift setlist later.”

“Ahhhhhhhhhh. I actually called you….” Jungkook nods, trying to remember if he did while you figure out what he meant. He chuckles, clicking his tongue before offering you the gigantic, half-filled stein in his hand. “Do you want some beer?”

“I’m here to make sure you don’t do anything crazy, Koo. Don’t make me a problem, too.”

Jungkook holds back a smile while grabbing a second microphone and dramatically turning around, his long hair twirling behind him. “It’s me. Hi. I’m the problem. It’s me.”

“Oh god, Jungkook,” you shake your head backwards. Were your persistent efforts at trying to get him to listen to Taylor Swift worth it if he was going to make such cheesy jokes? When you look up and see his scrunched-up nose and proud smirk, you have your answer. It was.

“Nah, I’m not done with my girl Cel-Celine Dion. You know, she’s a very good singer.” It’s only now, when Jungkook says the most obvious statement, do you notice how slurred his voice is. “I still haven't done these songs, yet. ‘The Power of Love' and 'It's All Coming Back To Me' - my… my drinking songs, join and let's GO!”

You watch Jungkook pace around his living room, belting out the song while holding his beer glass with an iron grip, and you can’t help but think about the floppy-haired boy in front of you rather than the not-so-careful steps and chugs he took mid-song, ignoring the mic in your hand. You could never count the days and nights you spent with Jungkook. It all started with the ‘Netflix and Chill’ nights. When he suggested it, you’d panicked until he insisted he meant actually chilling and watching Netflix - and whether it was cuddly, commentary-filled K-drama sessions or drunken fried chicken and reality show nights, you enjoyed every minute of it…. but more so when those nights evolved. As cute as though nights may be, they were topped. The caring, vulnerable nights where you’d slowly unravel a new emotional layer of yourself to the other and the moon - with no one else in the know… those were the ones that destroyed you and put you together again, all at once. You doubted Jungkook even had a deeper side to him until you both laid yourselves out in front of one another - little by little and without judgment or fear. You dreamed of the days the unraveling happened physically as well. When you’d see him during the days, and whether it was just the two of you or with your friends, it seemed as though the sun had an inkling of the bond that formed while she was away, shining a little brighter every time you saw his face, casting her beautiful golden rays onto the boy that shined just as brightly.

A confession forever rested on the tip of your tongue, ready to slip out whenever he flashed his bunny-toothed smile, scrunched up his perfectly round nose, or jokingly teased you. And yet… you never could say anything…. especially since you think you already did. It’s the real reason you vowed never to drink with Jungkook again - you could barely remember anything but the fleeting feeling of his lips on your forehead, being in his arms, and waking up in the morning in your underwear to see him shirtless on the floor beside the bed you lay on. Jungkook’s bed, you later found out - after a party he threw. You mainly remember walking into the kitchen and seeing his roommate and bestie Taehyung preparing breakfast in silence, which only made the morning more unbearable, given his god-awful cooking skills. You fled in minutes and, to this day, had no recollection or idea of what actually happened. Jungkook never said anything either, so you were certain you dreamt the entire ordeal. He stayed relatively the same, save for a few arm grazes that shocked you to your core - a little more than they used to. You almost consider forcing him to watch a K-drama or a horror film - just for the cuddle he'd end up giving you.

But you were here, watching him passionately wrap up a ballad and wiping away a tear that formed in his eye. He was unbelievable.

“I didn’t think she could make you cry.”

“Yeah, well, she sang the Titanic song too, didn’t she? Don’t you know me?”

“I do, Koo,” you whisper into the microphone he had handed you.

“It’s all coming back to me too. It all ends when I'm with you. And my heart will go on, Celine... You get me, Celine,” he utters as he plops down beside you, his hand outstretched behind you as he selected a song, neglecting Bam by his legs.

“Bam wants attention.”

“He always gets my attention,” Jungkook says, eyes fixated on the TV in front of him.

“I’m gonna use that line on you the next time you give me the eyes he’s giving you now.” Jungkook was always a master at pouting and the classic puppy-dog eyes, and in the split second he looked confused, you begin to wonder if it was never intentional. But he quickly looks at his pet and babies him when catching the dog’s neediness, giving you the freedom to grab the remote and pick a song.

“Remember, only pop queens,” he insists in a baby-like voice, his eyes and hands still on Bam. And you found just that - a playlist of nothing but tracks from pop queens, most on your regular playlist. Meaning you knew almost every word, and so did Jungkook. Two hours of singing later, Jungkook’s honey voice and your scratchy one both grew tired. Music videos it’d be, you thought - still in total control of the remote. By the third music video, you were bored - you’d seen them all before, while Jungkook - or more specifically, drunk Jungkook - was mesmerized. And in a flash you neglected the screen altogether, staring instead at the boy right beside you. With your hand on your chin, you study him. You never could when he was sober - his eyes would immediately find yours, and one of two things would happen next: you’d look away in embarrassment, or he’d would pull a funny face. But this was different. He was focused, well, as much as a drunk person could be, softly humming along or murmuring something about the camerawork or costume design - you could barely hear whatever it was he said. Sure, his face looked puffy and drunken, even in his dimly lit apartment…. but he was beautiful. He was beautiful in his side profile, his stare and concentration, the fluffiness of his hair, and the gigantic, soft, muscled arm he flexed beside you. He had no idea just how beautiful he was—just being.

You must’ve been staring for too long because Jungkook turns, catching you - as he always did. You expected it and waited for him to stick out his tongue jokingly, scrunch up his nose, or wiggle his brows… something goofy. The last thing you expected was the softest smile that crept up on his face - the wonder in his eyes remaining, the way you’d been looking at him. And just like that, you look away again, thinking you’d be able to stick it out this time and ignore his presence entirely or make a funny face of your own. You want to frown, but the stinging in your cheeks hurts too much from smiling at him.

“What’s up with you?” he giggles for a very brief moment before repeating the question with that same damn smile on his face. In your periphery, you see him ruffle his hair and you dig your nails into your skin to stop you from reaching out and doing the same.

“Nothing,” you let out, feeling his gaze on you as you looked towards the screen and Bam sleeping just beneath it. A whole music video later, the feeling of his eyes on you grew unbearable. He didn’t even look away when he continued to drink from the glass in his hands.

“Find something better to do, Koo,” you say, folding your arms and mustering up the courage to look at him.

“Hmmm?” the drunken, dazed smile on his face was goofier and sweeter than ever.

“I want a glass of water,” you say, looking towards the fridge, hoping he’d be a good host and stand up to get you one, finally breaking his gaze in the process.

“Well, I want you.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. As if you weren’t being tortured enough by his adorableness already... did the flirty side have to make an appearance? But it wasn't a surprise. Jungkook flirted all the time, definitely more than usual when he’s tipsy. It was so excruciating that you damn near scolded Jimin and Chan, the friends he’d picked up the flirting from. All you wanted to say was that you wanted him too, but he’d never mean it the way you did. The giggle he let out when you rolled your eyes proved it - he just liked seeing you all riled up.

“I’m thirsty, JK,” you whine, but he keeps giggling. “Yah, drunk boy - get me a glass of water,” you insist, poking his tattooed arm and letting your finger rest there - he winces between his little laughs, touching the skin and a little of yours.

“Jungkoooook. Don’t ignore me,” you pout.

You don’t know what it is, but something about those three words makes Jungkook jump up from his spot, his laughter fading quickly as he walked over to the fridge, covering his face with his hands.

“Don’t do that,” he mutters.

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t…,” he starts before clearing his throat. “Don’t poke me like that. I’m old and sore now. Your Jungkook works hard in the gym and can’t handle it like he used to.”

Your Jungkook. If only you could send him off on another errand to make you forget about him and those words for a moment. But, alas, you were in his apartment. He was too drunk. Bam was stirring in his sleep.

Jungkook returns a freshly filled stein for himself, a glass of water for you.... and a pair of thin-rimmed glasses on his face. The ones he only ever wore at home, during your late-night visits, that none of his friends ever saw. The ones that always fed your delusions of the domestic days with Jungkook you wished you could have for the rest of your life.

“Sure, you don’t want a sip?” A frozen glass swings into your line of vision, snapping you out of your daze.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

“…..Shame…” he whispers into the glass as he chugged down half of its contents before setting it down and hiding his face in his arms, folded on the edge of the couch.

“Don’t judge me for not drinking. Just look at the state of you.”

“I’m not. It’s… it’s a shame that that’s what you’re the surest of. What happened to being sure of yourself, hmm?”

You weren’t in the mood for one of your deep talks, which was unusual for you. You usually would jump at any opportunity to talk to Jungkook, even when he was drunk - like the time he spat out a life lesson he learned in the third grade you’d never thought of in your entire life. He was the only person who ever made it safe enough for you to express your deepest fears and insecurities. His honest and supportive advice pushed you through. And you longed for the soft embrace he always gave you afterwards. It’s been weeks since you had one of those talks, days before the night/morning that was somewhere between a dream and a glitch in the matrix. But you couldn’t go there. You couldn’t bear to. Not tonight. Not with a drunk, floppy-haired, adorable, and out of-his-mind Jungkook that was adorable as ever, laying next to you singing pop ballads for hours. It’d have to wait.... even if he didn't want to.

“Tell me, what happened to being sure of yourself? Your thoughts, your ambition….your desires and feelings…” he slurs, waving his arm.

“I don’t know, Kookie,” you let out, grazing his arm. You can’t tell him that you’re sure you love him in more ways than one and that you’re not sure what to do about it.

“If you’re sure of something, act on it. If you’re not, still do it. Better to live with regrets with lessons learned than to never know,” he murmurs, his face resting on his elbow.

“So, can I commit a crime then?” you try to joke and change the mood.

“If you want to, sure. Oh, wait, don't. You've already committed one. I almost forgot," he nods, taking another sip of his beer. "You stole my heart."

"Fuck off," you laugh, reaching out to pinch his thigh instead of the arm he told you to avoid... "We'll talk about this another time, Kookie. Give me actual advice then."

"Okay, but I'll tell you some now. Try being sure of what you want in life. Act on it. Start that business you always wanted to. But I’m thinking.... start with.. a smaller step. Get that tattoo you always talked about. I’ll take you,” he says with a clear voice now, smiling as he looked up and brushed the inside of your arm, where you’d always talked about getting a tattoo. “I’m sure of what I want.”

“As always,” you say with a laugh. “What is it this time?”

“I told you. I want you.”

“Oh shut up,” you say, lightly shoving him this time, but he doesn’t budge, not even a little bit, nor does he giggle as he did earlier, just continues to stare at you and try to hold back…. something. You assume it’s a joke.

“Jungkook, stop - this isn’t funny.” You reply before you could even realize the words he’s saying.

“I’m not being funny.”

You stop and finally look at Jungkook’s face. He desperately tries to avoid your gaze but soon can’t help but look into your eyes - his were dilated and red from all the alcohol.

“You’re drunk,” you spit out, repeating the words softly.

“I am. But I’m sure of it when I’m sober, too,” he says, fidgeting with his fingers before playing with yours. “I’m sure that I want you. I was always sure. And I’m sure I want to hold your hand.” You can’t explain why you allow him to do so, knowing his state, and soon, his fingers find the ends of your hair and the base of your neck, grazing the skin there while his thumb rubs at your cheek. “I’m sure I want to -” he whispers against your lips, and you can’t help but jump at the very instance you feel his breath against your lips.

“Jungkook, no,” you lean back, holding the tears in your eyes and hoping he doesn’t feel the goosebumps on your skin. “Jungkook, you’re drunk.”

He immediately lets go of you, and you feel the world crumble in that brief moment, in fear you’d thrown away the only shot you had at the only thing you were sure you wanted, clinging onto the hope that he'll forget it all in the morning. But instead he shakes his head and looks… confused.

“It doesn’t go like this. This is weird,” he drawls, looking at his hands, you, Bam, and the rest of the apartment.

“What?” you say, just as confused as he seems to be, ignoring a sinking feeling in your stomach at the idea that Jungkook was confused his attempts at kissing girls never went “like this” - with a rejection that you didn’t want to give him.

“It doesn’t go like this! I’m… And you’re…. You’re here, but…. you’re not wearing any clothes. Why am I? Did we not get to that part of it yet?”

“Part of what?”

But Jungkook takes a look around the apartment again before quietly murmuring to himself. “This is a weird sex dream.”

Oh. OH.

He continues, thinking he's asleep.

“We’ve done this so many times, and it never went like this. I… Can’t you at least want me back in my dreams? Why… why is this dream different?”

”Jungkook…”

“Shhhh,” he lazily brings a finger to your lips. “Let me recap. It’s the same. My apartment’s the same. Why is Bam here? He’s usually in the other room. I’m here. You’re here. Wait…. are you?”

“I… I am, Jungkook.”

“No you’re not. You won’t be when I open my eyes.” he pouts, hiding his face in his elbow again.

“It’s like… It’s like that time I put you in bed when I found you drunk in your underwear in the corner at my party after you just… what did you do? Didn’t you say you just wanna dance in your underwear or some shit? Then you… said you wanted me to see you like that. I tried so fucking hard not to look. I put you to bed, and I at least expected to get some reality of waking up beside you, but… you weren’t there.

And I wanted to confess last night during karaoke, with all your favorite songs but... I didn't think I actually called you. It was just practice. Then I was so nervous I drank way, way too much, and I must've passed out. And now you're not even naked in my dreams - well, tonight's dream anyway... Is it because of the stress? And wait, why am I wearing glasses? I don't have you OR perfect vision in this dream?!" he pouts, taking off his glasses and throwing them across the couch before resting his head on his elbow, in his hands, and all over as he struggles with the realization.

Jungkook stays like that for a good minute, giving you time to take in the situation. Firstly, you’d never drink unsupervised at a party again because what the fuck… But you quickly remind yourself that it didn’t matter too much. He put you in bed. He saw you in your underwear and knew that you - or at least a part of you - wanted to be with him in that way. And not only that, he wanted to see you that way too. He wanted to wake up next to you. And Jungkook, awake and drunk, thought he was in a regular sex dream he had… with you…. and was upset at the idea of waking up without you beside him…. again. He wanted to confess. If his hands on your skin hadn't ignited your skin, the touch of him lingering there, you’d be certain you were dreaming too. He… he must’ve really been sure. Who were you to doubt that? He’s Jungkook.

Your hand reaches out to touch his face, not even knowing what you were about to say to him, but it didn’t matter. By the time you look back at him, he was already passed out, the pout still on his face, buried in his arms. Still beautiful. Any gentle attempt at waking him up proved to be futile - and more for you than it was for him. The cheek grazes, the head scratches, the arm squishes - finally yours to touch after he’d been flexing in his short-sleeves all night long. There was no way it hurt like it said he did. Standing up and tugging his arm until he got on his feet nearly did it, and you had to help his drunken and dazed self all the way to his bed. He was just awake enough to lie down on his own.

You stare at him on the bed below you, and with the quiet chirping of the birds outside his window and the early sunlight streaming in below his curtains…. you knew this was the most peaceful moment you had ever experienced in your life, so you took it all in. He'd forget about this tomorrow, but you'd remember it for the rest of your days.

When you suspected Jungkook finally drifted off to sleep again, you reluctantly turned away from the scene and made your way to his bedroom door.

“Stay.”

You’re unsure you heard correctly, but he repeats the word.

“Stay…. please.”

Turning back, you see Jungkook’s tattooed arm outstretched toward you. Inviting you in.

With the serenity of it all and your heart laid out in front of you, it was an offer you couldn’t refuse. Especially since he wasn’t the only one that was up all night. You turn over the covers, holding Jungkook’s hand before gently snuggling into his arms…. and just like that he passes out for real, a soft moan and a snore escaping him instantly. You could dash out. You could run, try to forget the night and hope he does too. But you don’t. Because he’ll wake up. Because he's sure. And because you’re sure too. And you’ll be there to tell him.

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buckybarnesb-tch · 2 months

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Hybrids Mafia Princess Pt3

Series Masterlist

Tag List: @a-beaverhausen @ranisingsnew @ronswhoree @susannahmikaelson @skulliecadaver-blog @yeaiamme2 @nataliewalker93

Compelling Tony Stark to plan the party was surprisingly easy.

Klaus had found that Tony was an exuberant, spirited and animated person who was much too into over indulgence so when he announced a birthday party for his dog, no one was shocked. His dog was old and a loved member of their family so it worked out and the irony was not lost on Klaus, knowing that James forcing his daughter to go to a birthday party for a dog after what he had just done to her dog was a cruel and painful thing that her father wouldn’t think twice about but that she definitely would.

Waiting was the only painful part of his plan and so he distracted himself by focusing on getting Y/n away from New York. Just from listening to her talk and watching her for the last few days he knew she loved rainy/cloudy weather, preferred having privacy, and wanted to be around nature. He had found a perfect house in Washington state that he knew she would love (and knew her father would have trouble finding) that was in the woods away from other people, in a rainy place with plenty of privacy and a maid and chef already hired to work the house. Not to mention he will have an army of Hybrids to help protect his mate as soon as he finds a wolf pack to turn (which in Washington won’t be hard). He bought everything she could possibly want and everything he thought she would like, especially as his Princess had absolutely no experience in sexual situations and he would be able to teach her everything he wanted. An inexperienced Princess with Daddy issues? She would be so eager to please she would give him anything he wants.

The party came about a week after him getting shot and he stayed off to the side away from as many people as possible unless Tony was “introducing him” to one of James’ friends, thinking it would be beneficial to have them compelled to like him at the very least.

From the moment she walked in, Klaus couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. He wanted to tear that dress away from her, she was gorgeous and he found himself mesmerized, even as he felt the glare James Barnes had set on him as Klaus wasn’t exactly being subtle about him ogling his mate. James directed Y/n into one of the rooms with himself and his wife while he went to schmooze with the assholes and Klaus waited, watching his girl and watching James as both himself and his wife began drinking with Tony (as Klaus had compelled Tony to do to excess) before approaching Y/n.

She was sitting in the corner alone with the long forgotten “Birthday Boy” who was a white XL Pitbull named Ghost.

‘Mind if I join you?’ Klaus asked and her head jerked up in surprise.

‘Oh, sure, if you want. Though I’m sure you would be much more comfortable over there.’ She nodded her head over to a group of women by the bar. Parties for people like these men always have the option of women to take home, many of the men never getting married and staying “terminal bachelors” as if it makes them attractive. Klaus believes it just makes them stupid. You have everything except someone to love you and give you a family but you’re content with whores for the rest of your short life? At least Klaus had eternity to find Y/n, when you don’t have that kind of time and you waste it you are just stupid.

Y/n had noticed the girls that had been watching him for the better part of an hour with flirty faces, twirling their hair but he never gave them a second glance which Y/n noticed immediately. Growing up here, every man, even the married ones, stared at those sort of girls at every party but this attractive seemingly single guy isn’t…it struck her as odd but she brushed it off until now.

‘No, here is perfectly comfortable, thank you…I’m Klaus. It’s nice to meet you.’ He held out his hand and when Y/n moved to take it Klaus pulled her hand close and leaned down, pressing his lips to her knuckles, never taking his eyes off of hers.

‘It’s lovely to meet you Klaus. I’m Y/n Barnes, though I’m sure you knew that.’ He could instantly see that she had issue with her name when it came to meeting people.

‘I did know that, Tony told me earlier when you arrived, why are you so sure though?’

Her eyes widened and she stammered a moment. ‘B-because-Well because everyone does. People want to get on my fathers good side and they act like getting to know me first will achieve it. A little advice, just so you don’t fuck yourself on this one. My father hates men talking to me, so getting to know me first is a terrible plan, he’s going to hate you before he even meets you so you should probably just go introduce yourself to him.’

Klaus found the sad look in her eyes to be heart breaking. Her entire life she wasn’t allowed friends, boyfriends, interaction with anyone who didn’t work for her father and even at these parties, something she should enjoy if not just for the human interaction, all anyone and everyone wanted was to get to her father. Men flirted with her and made her feel desirable just to pull the rug from under her by wanting to get on her fathers good side.

‘Thank you, that was very kind advice. However I have no interest in your father, I was just hoping to sit with a lovely girl and have a drink…can I get you a drink?’ She looked stunned but shook it off before nodding her head.

‘Sure Klaus, that sounds nice.’ He moved to the bar and got her a glass of wine and him a bourbon before returning to the couch, sitting on the opposite side of the dog, wanting her to move closer at her own pace knowing it will make her feel more comfortable. ‘Thank you. Are you a new friend of Tony’s? I’ve never seen you here before, the faces here are always the same so it’s easy to spot a new one.’

‘Yes, we met a few weeks ago and he invited me to this, said he wanted me to meet some of his friends. I’m a painter you see, and Tony has bought some of my work, he knows some other men here who love art and might like my paintings.’ Y/n smiled at that, loving that he wasn’t another asshole just trying to use her.

‘Oh wow, I would love to see your work sometime. I admit I’m not much of a great judge but I enjoy seeing how people’s interpretations of art differs from others.’ Klaus couldn’t keep the smile from his face, loving her honest and intelligent answer before standing and holding out his hand for her to take and she did, following him out of the room and into the den to see the paintings that Tony had bought from Klaus as an explanation as to why he’s here. ‘My God, Klaus! These are amazing…I like seeing artwork that makes you feel something…they feel angry but in a sad way, like…like a grasping for control sort of way.’ He watched her face as she looked at his work and he loved that he could make something that could make her smile. ‘Oh God, I’ve offended you, I didn’t-‘

‘Not at all gorgeous, you’re quite right actually. Painting is a metaphor for control. Every choice is mine, the canvas, the color. As a child I had neither a sense of the world nor my place in it but art taught me that one’s vision can be achieved by sheer force of will…you have no control in your life either, do you?’ She looked back at him away from the painting and he instantly reached out to brush away the tears in her eyes, hesitating only a moment as she flinched before gently brushing her tears.

‘How long did it take? Finding your place in the world?’ She asked and he wished he could give her an answer.

‘I have no place in the world…however finding people that you love and being with them makes it all worth living with the little control that you can have-‘

‘Why can’t I have all of it? My father gets to have complete control of everything in his life, and I’m just…’ Klaus took Y/n’s hand and pulled her to sit on the desk, looking at her firmly.

‘Listen to me Princess, your fathers control is an illusion, it’s called money and it’s not real. It’s a social construct that we put way too much worth on and pretend it means we rule the world. Your father is a billionaire, right?’ She nodded. ‘And with that he has men with guns to enforce his rules and push his sense of control on everyone, but if that money was gone that control wouldn’t exist. It’s not real. I mean look at me, I have billions of dollars in money, artifacts, paintings, jewelry, but I don’t try and rule the world. I control my life and what’s important to me, that should be enough…you should be enough and if you’re not then…then he doesn’t deserve you Princess.’

Klaus was sure to leave out the part about him planning to have an army and control much like that of her father but it didn’t matter, because he would do that and still take care of and love her the way her father didn’t.

The next thing he knew Y/n had grabbed ahold of his jacket and pulled him down to press her lips against his. He couldn’t say he was surprised, or displeased, resting his hands on her waist and taking control of the needy kiss. For having no experience she was actually quite good at it and she quickly wrapped her arms around his neck as he pulled her against his chest.

Just as Klaus was about to trail his hands down to her skirt they both jumped, hearing her name being shouted. ‘Hide!’ She whispered harshly.

‘Y/n-‘

‘No time for arguments, I’m not letting you get shot! Hide! Now!’ Y/n pushed him behind the desk and he sighed, crawling under it after pulling her in to kiss him one final time.

‘This isn’t over Princess, you’re mine now.’ He warned, enjoying the blush on her cheeks before she moved back around the desk to the wall where she looked back up at the painting before the door opened and Klaus could hear Steve’s voice.

‘Did you not hear me calling you?’ He questioned, exasperated.

‘No, I heard you, I just didn’t care.’ It took everything in Klaus in that moment not to laugh.

‘Y/n-‘

‘I would appreciate it if we kept all speaking to a minimum of what is absolutely necessary. Why did you come looking for me?’

‘Your parents are leaving, time to go home.’

‘Fine. Let’s go then, I want a shower and my bed.’ The door shut a moment later and Klaus moved quickly, crawling out and returning to the party before anyone suspected anything, watching the family leave.

He was happy to finally know what her lips tasted like on his own but it wasn’t enough. He would have her.

Tonight.

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

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aconflagrationofmyown · 8 months

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You’ve definitely become one of my favorite Elvis writers on here, Marina.

And I wanted to ask you, are you planning to do more Elvis series? Like a series of Hollywood!Elvis, where he fights to be a serious actor and falls in love with one his co-stars. Or more Elvis AU, since we already have Pirate!Elvis. For example Cowboy!Elvis. Spy!Elvis like a James Bond or Agent Elvis. Mafia!Elvis. Even a Superhero!Elvis.

I think you’d do such a good job bringing all those concepts to life ��

My sweet anon, thank you so much, what a kind thing to say, I’m so glad my writing has brought you joy. 💋🌸💋 As for AU’s I did start a series about Hollywood E, yet never finished it. And for now I’ve got riverboat Captain E and father figure E to chew and that’s a lot on its own…but never say never. I think this would be something I’d have to have pitched to me and see if it resonates? So far I’ve not fully cooked up anything else original that hasn’t been done better by others. I’m always happy to dish out recs, fyi.

BUT THAT SAID…I’m messing around with little snippets, a filthy fairytale in collaboration with @elvisabutler and this demented Regency Elvis headcanon below that “my sexy secretary” @ab4eva took down from a chat. Enjoy…

I Bet on Losing Dogs -🥀 A Regency Elvis Blurb

18+ blurb, warning sexual content ahead, arranged marriage, romance novella style stuff

Imagine this: Regency Elvis whose wife has recently left him for a foreigner, taking with her his only child -a daughter who cannot inherit. He needs an heir.

Zero promises of love or fidelity or even bare respect for his new wife but…there’ll be position and status and jewels so long as you perform your wifely duties without complaint.

Jaded and lonely, I need freshly betrayed Elvis buying off a nobleman for his daughter, a Baron who’s mortgaged his estate for debts, Mr. Presley gets the association with your family’s nobility and you get the much needed wealth that new money brings.

And so your new husband comes in nightly in an embroidered robe and a solitary lit candle to consummate your union. He’s got all that chest hair displayed and a lil ponch of a belly showing out his robe as he slowly undoes the tie every night, never rushed, and you can feel the jitters down to your toes every time as you hug the sheet to your chin.

*Let go, Darlin,* he’s always murmuring as he pulls the sheet from your grip, *must do what needs done*

He fucks you hard and fast for such a delicate woman and then tosses you spending money to make up for it.

Reminds you after each visit to yoru chambers that you have a job to do. One single job.

*Gimme that son and maybe you’ll get that sea bathin’ ya been hankerin’ for*

(Elvis is from Yorkshire if he was ever transported to an English Setting AU, ok? No question, unless the question is Irish versus Yorkish)

Each time, when he finishes and pants into the humid crook of your neck, his hand blindly strokes away your tears and he whispers in gravelly apology, *I’ll leave ya alone, moment ya start to swell, I swear it, I’ll leave ya alone lil girl*

But that’s not why you’re crying, you wish he’d stay, he doesn’t know how cold you get when he leaves you and his sweat and spend cools on your skin and leaves you shivering.

You could curse the woman who laid here before you, who broke his heart and still haunts this place, like the wall opposite the bed with its outline of a portrait missing on the sun-bleached wall.

You wonder what she looked like, this missing wife.

You wonder if she secretly craved the burning stretch of him like you do, possibly not if she left for someone more…continental. Was he too voracious for her? Or was it the loneliness that finally ate her through like the moths who try the same with the bed canopy.

One night, Mr. Presley’s hand slips from your shoulder down to your breast, very rarely does he maul you there except in his direst paroxysms of pleasure, but tonight he slips and grabs and it’s so sore you nearly cry aloud from the ache.

*I swear I’ll leave ya be* he had said and you bite your lip savagely, cinch your corsets cruelly and wonder how to make him love you, tolerate you even. Anything so that you’re not left alone like he promises.

Are your breasts sore from being with child? You worry so.

So the next night you scheme, and when he shakes atop you and catches his breath and makes to roll away, you grab hold of him and keep him close.

*Six months* you murmur, and he seems confused by your meaning, *six month’s you’ve visited me nightly save for menses and Lent, and no child to show for it. Won’t you stay? Nurse says if the man remains…after…the chances are greater.*

Ensuing cockwarming between two people who’ve barely spoken outside of bed…little chats…because neither can sleep and in fact, he doesn’t really sleep that much at all, he admits.

*what do you do then? At nights?* you ask.

He reads a lot, he tells you and he’s got a telescope, and you tentatively ask if he’ll read to you.

He agrees with a shy *i-if ya want that, I will*

About the books. You asks if he will tonight instead of leaving and he says yes.

Then he hesitates and asks lowly, *can we…once more?…before?*

He asks if he can do it again, before he grabs the books, because he firmed up again while acting as a stopper in your warm cunt.

You’re already a wet mess down there and perhaps he moves you around, spoons you.

Puts himself back in and you’re so wet from what he gave you before and your excitement at the intimacy you feel in this movement.

And due to the difference in angle, for the first time, you actually come from the feeling of your husband inside you. His flaming hot body behind you, his thick arms wrapped around your body, the delicious rub of him in your womb.

And you’re quite sure you’ve already made a child but he doesn’t need to know. Not yet.

Anything to keep him coming back.

#elvis presley #regency Elvis #elvis fanfiction #Elvis blurb #elvis fanfic #Elvis smut #regency #bridgerton #elvis imagine #elvis x reader #elvis #mine

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undercoverpena · 11 months

Note

I have to ask (only if you're willing to talk about it), how do you cope with hate...? I got the feeling from your last answer and tags that this was not the first time. Do you have any tips on how to self-regulate? How do you stay so kind-hearted & compassionate?

The reason why i'm asking is that I'm relatively new here and dread the day I receive hate mail.

Much love to you, I adore the way you write and lift others❣️

- Fellow cancerian who doesn't want to grow too hard a shell

hello fellow 🦀 thank you for the compliment on my writing and lifting others (honestly, I just feel too much and I have to thrust it on people haha)

and honestly I don’t mind answering, I don’t really have like a hard and fast answer so I apologise for the ramble under the cut:

it depends on what is said. which I know is wildly unhelpful, but it’s the truth. the one today was like…. silly? to me anyway. it wasn’t necessary, it was just—oh let’s kick someone. and like, I’m not just saying this, but I laughed and I honestly was like, jesus you feeling okay anon, like damn.

but, I’m nothing but honest (where I can be) and there have been some that have fucking hurt. like I’ve cried my eyes out—which is a lot for saying this is fun, and a hobby.

in my corner though, I have great people. one of my friends is like my rock, and she allows me to send her the more crazy ones. and we sorta have this process of talking about it first before I make a decision about deleting/responding. for me, it helps drafting my feelings or talking them out, just so I can get rid of that ‘initial’ reaction. because sometimes I just wanna shout and tear someone a new one, but that means letting them get a rise outta me? y’know.

so once I’ve done that, we normally fall on the deleting side, because it’s important to me to create a space that I feel safe in, that I’m proud of, and that others know they can come into and also feel okay. you having a bad day and seeing that I’ve been kicked down isn’t going to do anything except us both feel poopy. so unless I can be sassy, let it roll off my back, I try now not to respond.

to return back to chirpy, annoyingly nice Jo 😏 I spend time with people i love: fandom, irl and who I live with. I may go on a walk with my dog. I may put my headphones on and blast music (celine dion power ballads hit different), and lastly, I’ll churn it into something writing wise.

writing is what helps me regulate all of my emotions. I feel so much, always have done, always will. but writing helps.

unfortunately, there’s always a chance I’ll get hate. because like irl, we don’t gel with everyone. which is why I wish people would just unfollow, block and move on, but i can't control that nor can i guarantee the former will happen. so I just try to create a space I’m happy to be in, like this overtly pink blog with all you lovely lot who follow me as I throw you in fandom after fandom.

lastly, my friend said this earlier and I’m going to quote her (she’s going to love this) “you literally get what you see with you” and she’s right. it’s not me staying so kind and compassionate, that’s just who I am (which sounds big headed, like omg I’m amazing) but I just care. and on the days where being “me” feels hard, that’s when I stay off here. because it means I need some me time to get back to a good place.

I am not sure if this was helpful, 🦀 anon (this is what I’m calling you, hope that’s okay). but my dm is always open, and so is my inbox.

pls try not to let fear stop you from sharing with the world, don’t give the prospective haters any chance to steal your shine 🩷

#asked and answered #🦀 anon #Jo gives terrible advice #resource: anons

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rhythm-of-space · 1 year

Text

Bloom

notes - hi! I wrote this a while ago and it's just been sitting in my docs collecting dust. I also have a dad!jake and dad!josh written if anyone is interested (sam is currently in the works!)

a huge thank you to @sunfl0wer-power for the header and listening to my endless commentary about this and @allieisacrybaby for the encouragement 💛

warnings - none. Just dad danny and sweet sam!

“We’re leaving, babe!” you hear Danny yell from the garage. You get up from your place in your garden where you were tending to your new sprouts and waltz over the car where Danny is securing five-year old, Francine, in her booster seat.

“You sure you don’t want to come with us?” Danny urges as he envelopes you in a warm bear hug you know so well.

“No, I’m okay, I need to get some work done here. I love you, drive safe,” you kiss him and then move over to the little girl waiting patiently in her seat.

“And I love you! Be brave.” You whisper the last part into her ear before planting a gentle kiss to her forehead. You move away from the car to watch Danny reverse and wave them goodbye as they drive off on their little excursion.

Danny pulls into the parking lot next to the only other car there and hops out to unbuckle his daughter from her constraints. Her big amber eyes squint at the brightness of the summer sun as her feet meet the gravel on the ground. Danny gives her an encouraging smile before locking the car and leading the way to the trailhead.

They walk a few minutes before making it to the clearing they frequent often when he’s home. The field of flowers in full bloom, the stream with water clear as day to the side, and an area under an old oak tree where they usually lay out a blanket and enjoy their time until the sun starts to set. It’s their little oasis away from the hustle and bustle of their life.

Yet this time there’s a visitor knelt over a bundle of wildflowers, taking a picture of their beauty with his phone. Earlier that morning, Danny got a call from Sam to talk about an upcoming festival they were scheduled to play at and they got on the topic of plans for the day. Danny invited him to tag along, saying it would be a good opportunity to bond with her, and after some persuading on Danny’s end, Sam complied.

Once Francine makes out his face, her steps falter, falling behind Danny’s pace. He realizes she’s not next to him once he’s a few feet from Sam and turns to see his little girl's face full of worry. She finally catches up to Danny, but stays behind him, his body acting as a barrier between her and Sam. She clutches her arms around Danny’s leg, squeezing tight to find the comfort she always receives from his presence.

“Hey Frankie!” Sam greets with a bright smile. But she just huddles closer to her dad and whispers a polite yet mousy ‘hi’.

Sam has come to learn to not take offense to this behavior as she does this with everyone with the exception of her parents and Uncle Jake due to his laid back demeanor. Though, he is so headstrong that he is determined to connect with her, one way or another - he is her namesake after all.

Since she first opened her eyes to the world, Francine has been a timid little thing. Despite her dad being the drummer of a rock band, she likes the gentler, softer side of life - coming up with stories, creating the most beautiful art that a five year old could make, and her most favorite of all, the little critters that inhabit the Earth. When entering the Wagner household at any given moment, you’d find plastic bugs littered around the house, Planet Earth playing on the television, and Francine with one of her parents (or both when she pulls out the puppy dog eyes and they can’t say no) looking for creatures to observe in their backyard. There has been a push lately in efforts to get her out of her shell and trust those who care for her deeply and it has not been an easy process. She cries when her grandparents babysit, she often stays in the greenroom, away from the loudness and crowd of strangers while her dad is on stage, she even stayed by the front door while Danny met Josh’s newborn baby for the first time.

Something that always comforts her in these moments is Danny. Nobody could have expected how strong their relationship would be. She thinks the world of him, and obviously Danny does with her. The warmth he provides has become a safe haven for the little girl who finds the world too big. She had caught onto Danny’s soft nature; how he can make anyone feel a sense of home with his tender words, a sweet smile, and a love that is all-enveloping. It’s a sense of calm that grounds Francine in the most worrisome moments. He is her protector.

Sam expresses a reassuring smile and turns back to the flowers that have taken his focus.

“They love this time of year, you know,” still in a knelt position, he points to the flying pollinators buzzing around the petals, “This is when they get all their food to store for the winter.” A bee lands on the bundle of flowers right in front of him and starts to hunt for pollen.

Francine’s attention is grabbed in an instant as Sam continues on with his basic bee facts he learned in the seventh grade. Her head pokes out from behind her dad’s leg to see from her vantage point.

Danny feels a small tug on his pant leg and looks down to see her curious eyes looking up at him.

He kneels down to her level, tucks a loose wave of hair behind her ear, and whispers, “What do you think? Should we get a better view?” He sees the hesitation written on her face as she chews on the inside of her cheek, “can you be a brave girl for me?”

A few seconds pass before she nods in confirmation. He straightens back up and unfurls his hand, welcoming her little one and clasping it to his own in a comforting hold. He leads her over to his best friend who is still enthralled in the liveliness of the bees.

“You see that, Frankie? They're just going on with their little lives, finding food, pollinating the Earth one by one. Each and every one of them are valuable and needed - just like us, huh? Just like you, your dad, me, we all matter in this little thing called life..”

The bee buzzes off to find another flower, “...oh look! There he goes! He must have business to attend to.”

“No, Sammy,” Sam and Danny whip their heads towards her in both shock upon hearing her speak up, and in wonder at what she’ll say next, “The worker bees…they’re all girls.”

“Oh, of course! I’m sorry ladies, keep up the good work!” He yells after them, as if they’ll understand and turns to her, “They’re hard workers, huh?”

She nods in agreement, “Very. Um, Daddy got me a book all about them and how much they help us. I c-can show you it next time you come over…if you want to see.”

Squeezing Danny’s hand, she waits with bated breath for his response. “I would absolutely love that, hun. I can’t wait.” Both of their faces light up to show off their beautiful smiles.

“Hey, I noticed a big patch of flowers down the trail, should we go see what else we can find?” Francine peers up at her dad as a silent ask and he looks down at her with wide eyes in excitement to encourage her.

He expects to have to pull her along with him hand-in-hand, but to everyone's surprise, she brings his hand to her lips to place a soft kiss on his knuckles like she's seen her parents do many times before, lets it fall to his side, and walks along with Sam. It’s as if she was the one comforting him - telling him that she’ll be okay.

After collecting himself he pulls his phone out to capture a video. It shows them walking off a few steps ahead and her talking with her hands, getting animated like she does when she's really interested in the conversation. He goes into his contacts and finds your name, needing you to see how big your little girl has grown in just a couple hours. ‘I’m so proud of her!’ and ‘she’s so brave!’ are passed back and forth before he says he’ll be home soon and can't wait to tell you all about the progress she’s made.

He rushes to catch up to the newly-made friends to find Sam kneeling again, picking white daisies from the root. “Don’t worry, we’ll leave some for the bees.” he mentions towards Frankie who is examining an ant hill not too far off.

They stay there for a while longer, Francine has convinced both of them to look for bugs with her; Danny teases Sam the entire time as he is new to the activity and not very fond of the tiny creatures that crawl on four or more legs - but he’s a good sport for her. As the sun starts to set on the horizon, Danny sees the tell-tale signs of his little one losing energy - the constant rubbing of her eyes, long yawns, and the way she starts to cling to Danny’s form.

He picks her up and they head off back to the car park they pulled into that afternoon. After securing her in her seat Sam pops in to wish her farewell, “Here Frankie, these are for you. I had such a fun time with you today.” He’s holding out the flowers he picked back at the clearing as a gift, a memory of today.

She beams up at him with heavy, tired eyes and cradles the bundle before Danny closes her door, ready to get her to bed. After hugging Danny, Sam leans against his own vehicle, giving them space to back out. Before they drive too far, the car window rolls down and he hears a little voice, “Goodnight Sammy, I love you.” All Danny can do is smile wide and keep his eyes on the road to get them home safely. It was a successful day and he wishes you could have been there to see it.

#greta van fleet #sam kiszka #danny wagner #danny wagner fic

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modernmisadventures · 8 months

Text

Chapter 2: Reactions

It took three locks to get into Cirdan and Varrus’s apartment. This was on top of the secured access, the doorman-cum-guard dog in the lobby, and the keycard required to take the elevator all the way up to their floor. For Cirdan, it was just another day - for Varrus, it was something of another matter. He wondered if he’d ever get used to it.

But tonight, his head was too full of questions - and a pair of large, brown eyes - for him to do more than feel a momentary anxiousness at the procedure. As soon as the door swung shut at their backs and they entered the well-appointed sitting room of their apartment, he pounced. “So, that girl. Who was she?”

Cirdan didn’t answer immediately, making his way through the seating towards the kitchen. He slipped inside and moments later Varrus could hear the refrigerator open. “Come in here while I see if there’s anything to eat,” called the Au Ra.

"You just downed two drinks and an entire plate of nachos and you're still hungry?" Varrus couldn't help but shake his head with a snort - gods knew that man had a bottomless appetite, for more than just food. All the same, he settled himself onto a stool at the island, but refused to let his friend off so easily.

"You can talk and forage at the same time. So, what's the deal?"

“Ugh.” Cirdan bent down and stuck his head in the fridge, wondering for the thousandth time why he didn’t just get a side-by-side. “There’s shit all in here. I’m going to order in some Doman food. The usual?” Without waiting for the Elezen to respond, he slid his tomephone from his pocket and placed the order.

Varrus was almost certain he was stalling on purpose, and waited in impatient silence.

Finally, Cirdan tucked his phone in his pocket and sighed. “You heard her. Her name is Ciprys.” More silence, and he cursed. “We kind of grew up together. Her parents moved into our neighborhood when her mother was still pregnant, and I was about two. I don’t remember much, except my mother wasn’t very thrilled to have academic-types in her domain.” The Au Ra hardly had to explain more; though Varrus had never met his mother, he’d been treated to plenty of diatribes about her high-class - and high-maintenence - ways.

“Anyway,” he continued, slipping out of the kitchen and collapsing onto one of the overstuffed chairs, which creaked ominously beneath the weight of his plus-seven-feet frame, “her parents were also quite close to the Satrap of Radz-at-Han, so father couldn’t do anything about it without making more waves than he was willing to at the time. So they stayed, and mostly they stayed out of our way.”

He stared up the ceiling, lost in his own thoughts until Varrus pointedly cleared his throat. “I probably actually met her for the first time when she was six and I was eight. One of my father’s men was dressing me down; I’ve forgotten why, now.” He smiled. “It wasn’t important. It was summer, and hot, and I didn’t want to stand there on the sidewalk in front of her house getting chewed out because I’d done something any eight-year old would do. All of a sudden, she comes tearing out of the house, yelling at the man to stop being ‘such a bully’. You know how auri women are so tiny compared to the men?”

Varrus nodded.

“Well, they’re always that tiny. She’s six years old, all of three fulms nothing, and she comes tearing across her yard and plants herself right between me and… gods, I don’t even remember his name.” Cirdan’s smile is surprisingly tender, given his usually fierce demeanor. “And she proceeded to let him know how it’s not right to yell at a kid, and you shouldn’t pick on people smaller than you, and didn’t his mother raise him right to not throw a tantrum in public?

“The guy… Jaiko, I think - yeah. Jerky Jaiko. He drew himself up, affronted. I think he might have struck her, but I reached out and pulled her back, and if he’d hit her, he might have hit me. My father’s men, they could yell at me, especially if I was being stupid, but my father would have had their horns if they’d laid a hand on me.” Varrus wasn’t entirely certain that was simply a figure of speech. Cirdan had never exactly told him what he and his father did - but Varrus wasn’t entirely dense.

He just liked having plausible deniability.

Cirdan inhaled deeply. “Her mother comes streaking out of the house, pale with fear. I held up a hand to her - it was a gesture my father used all the time - and she stopped dead in her tracks. I very carefully told Jaiko that the little girl was right, that he was being rude, and that I expected to hear no more on this matter. It was the first time I’d ever stood up to one of my father’s men when they were picking on me. And damned if he didn’t turn as pale as Ciprys and draw himself up. ‘Yes, Master Cirdan’ he said - just as he often said to my father - and he turned and walked away.

“As he left, Ciprys pulled out of my hands,” Cirdan continued, his smile positively sloppy at this point, “turned around, and informed me that she was not ‘a little girl’. ‘I’m Ciprys Dreamweaver’, she said to me, very regally, ‘and you may thank me now.’. Gods,” he sighed. “She hasn’t changed a damn bit. Anyway. I thanked her, and she smiled and very politely told me I was welcome, then went to her mother, took her mother’s hand, and led her back into the house. We were fairly inseparable after that, for a very long time. Her parents hated it. My parents hated it. They learned very early on we didn’t give a damn and if they tried to keep us apart, we’d simply sneak out and meet up anyway. Then I had to go to Doma for a few years to serve in the Master’s household, and while I was gone, she went off to college. I figured that was the end of that. But she’s here,” he whispered. “And damned if I didn’t miss her.”

“So… Did you ever…?” Varrus let the word hang, his intent clear - it was evident just how much the woman meant to his friend. So much so that he couldn’t help if their reunion had been entirely coincidental. Cir had never spoken such words about any of his partners - and Varrus had had the misfortune of meeting a few in the early mornings after his buddy’s escapades, but they were always in and out, never the same each night; hells, he’d never even known any of their names, the rare occasions he did meet them.

So to hear Cir speak so happily, candidly about this Ciprys woman… Well, it was clear she was special. Beyond special.

Cirdan was quiet for a moment, mulling over the question. “No. No, we didn’t. She was sixteen when I left for Doma - and maybe she was willing, but I wasn’t. Not with her. I didn’t want - she wasn’t…” He trailed off, frowning, and this may have been the first time Varrus had ever seen him so uncertain. “I wasn’t going to do that to her - not when I was leaving and no idea when I’d be back, or what her life would be. So no. We never.” Then he smiled, slow and lazy. “But there’s always tomorrow, now that I know where she is.”

“You, with the same person, more than a single night? I’ll believe it when I see it,” Varrus snorted - though it was a bit of false bravado; there was little that would bring him more joy than seeing his best friend truly, truly happy with another.

Though he wasn’t exactly looking forward to the sounds that would be coming from the shared wall between their bedrooms.

“Well, come on, loverboy.” He plopped down onto the seat opposite the Au Ra. “Food’s gonna be here soon; what say we get a few rounds in? Winner gets the third egg roll.” With a smirk, he tossed the second controller to Cir, knowing he’d absolutely just lost himself a bet - a shame, really. He loved those egg rolls.

Unfortunately for him, so did Cir. And Cir had one advantage.

He cheats.

Ciprys didn’t quite slam the door shut behind her - but it was a near thing. Her mother’s voice was still ringing against her horns, but she blocked it out with the ease of long practice. It was all piss and wind; her mother had never had the fortitude to follow through on any of her threats. Not that Ciprys particularly tested that - she loved her mother and father, and she recognized that their overbearing nature came from anxiety about raising her so far away from kith and kin.

But she was twenty-one years old, by the gods, and she deserved to have her own damn life.

“I need a job,” she said to the air. “I need to stop racking up degrees and just get a damn job with them.”

Her parents would be surprised to find out that rather than being a dilettante who had been in school for nearly four years now with nothing to show for it that she’d actually managed to scrape up two degrees and was on the verge of a third. Refusing to walk or be announced by the school had simply been one more way of taking control of her own life. And since her grades had been exceptional - as expected - the U had been more than willing to indulge her, even against two of their more valuable professors.

But she didn’t want a job. Not one that had her tied to a desk, or a bar, or a building. She wanted to travel, she wanted to see places she’d only heard of, meet people she’d never known existed. She wanted to experience the world first-hand… and she wanted to capture it, she mused as her roaming eye fell upon the camera tucked on her dresser, through a lens, then share it with the rest of the world.

And her parents would never go for it. Without a means of support, that dream was just a dream - she’d known that the moment she’d fallen in love with photography and made it her second degree. They’d never let her out of the city - and if they knew how far away she wanted to go, they’d never let her out of the house. And without a job, she’d never have the means to break those gilded chains.

It all circled back. And why, she wondered, was she thinking of this now?

Jess. Something had changed between the moment she’d walked into the bar tonight, and the moment she’d walked out. She’d already started growing fond of the bartender - and a bit envious of her freedom, her freedom to work, to live away from her parents, to have a life that hadn’t been decided before she was born.

And now there was that other woman - the other Au Ra. The teacher. Someone living the life her parents had imagined for her and happy with it. More than anything, that had made it all hit home: she didn’t want that. She didn’t want the same thing, day after day. She didn’t want the papers, the students, the responsibility.

She wanted to spread her wings.

And if she could just find a degree of independence, it wouldn’t matter what her parents thought of Cir-

No.

Five years. Why hadn’t he told her he was back? How long had he been back? He’d never said anything in the texts, the emails, the little gifts he’d sent anonymously.

Why?

With a grunt, she flung herself on her bed and brooded at the moon rising outside her window. And did her best not to dream a dream of turquoise eyes and wide, spreading wings.

“Can I walk you home?”

“The answer is still no,” Kal’istae replied evenly, ignoring Thancred’s soft sound of disappointment. “I appreciate the invite to the bar, though. I enjoyed meeting your sister.”

Doing his best not to sulk - and how was that even a thing? - Thancred strode along at her side, his hands shoved in his pockets. “Scamp? She’s one of a kind. Minfilia’s more reserved, and Ryne’s more like a daughter, but Jess is exactly the kind of younger sister I wanted growing up.” The affection in his voice was real and rich, and Kal’istae had no doubt in her mind that he meant every word.

Kal’istae let her eyes drift up towards the stars above them, nearly drowned out from the lights of the city. “Is that why you do it?”

“One reason, perhaps,” Thancred replied, only half of his mind on the conversation. “There’s a lot more to it than just filling in the gaps, of course, and it’s mostly for their sakes, not mine - but I’d be lying if I said I got nothing out of it.”

Kal’istae tried to ignore the prick of her conscience, the whisper of her unconscious that suggested that perhaps saying yes, just this once, wouldn’t hurt. She was not interested in leading him on. She liked their relationship exactly where it was - non-existent with a side of friendship.

So why did you go to the bar with him?

Gritting her teeth, she shoved the errant thought away. “Here is where we part ways,” she said instead, indicating the entrance to the underground. “I’ll see you around, Thancred.”

If by around you mean next Wednesday when he inevitably swings by your classroom during his weekly visit to the school.

Well, of course. If he didn’t, she’d probably be very disappointed. Worried, even. Except when he’d had to go out of town, he’d come by every Wednesday like clockwork…

As the thought trailed off, she stared at him as he waited, gazing at her with a puzzled expression.

Oh hells.

“Good night, Thancred,” she said, just a bit faintly. “I’ll see you… I’ll see you.”

His smile was slow, and just a little smug. “Good night, Kali,” he replied, backing away. “I’ll see you Wednesday.”

Yes. Yes he would. And she would be waiting.

Oh. Hells.

#ffxiv #au: misadventures in modern eorzea #oc: varrus varlineau #oc: cirdan takeshi #oc: ciprys dreamweaver #oc: kal'istae miurani #npc: thancred waters #non-canon au #no sundering au #rp fanfiction #multiple authors #author: sasslett #author: ainyan

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nihilistbabydolll · 1 year

Text

At some point the advice “it will get better! Just hang on a little longer!” starts to feel patronizing.

TW!! (Mentions of slewerslidal attempts and ideations)

It’s as if I’m expected to believe in some sort of magical fairy, that will sweep in and save the day, in coming of age movie fashion.

My heart was broken for the first time at 4 years old by my father. I thought about killing myself for the first time at 9 years old. I tried to kill myself for the first time at 11. And from there on I was stuck in a morbid, fucked up, groundhogs day. It never got easier, those feelings and attempts never stopped. If anything life just got harder and harder, and every time I thought it couldn’t get worse, I would descend father and farther down. Rock bottom seemed to get sharper somehow, cutting into my chest and ribs. I can’t recall any point in my life where I felt genuinely happy, and especially not for longer than a day or two. I’ve basically only felt pain, disappointment and let down in my life. It’s never my turn, it never has been and probably never will be. Every year has some sort of devastating catastrophic event, that leaves me to believe my life is being played out by a malicious 12 year old one-manning the sims. Except, they won’t take out the goddamn ladder.

So here I am now. 24. Uncharacteristically bitter, (especially for my age). Trying to figure out what I’m supposed to do next. Well how am I supposed to figure that out when my life hangs in the balance? When I can’t decide if I even want to be alive. Somehow bills and jobs don’t seem overtly important when you’re hanging off a cliff. And that’s where my life has been spent for the last two decades, on a literal cliffhanger. Will she finally kill herself? Will she get better? Who knows! Tune in next year to see if “Gods plan” is to torture her further, or if she’ll finally get the balls to finish the job.

And when you try to explain to someone the devastatingly mortal and morbid thoughts that race through your mind all hours of the day, you get met with “it’ll get better.” Well guess what it might not and what then, what if it doesn’t?

What THE FUCK am I supposed to do with that.

And I can’t blame them, what are they supposed to say? Reach out for help? As if the hundreds of times every borderline has done that, we were actually met with any sort of actual mental health care or, I don’t know, empathy perhaps? And that’s assuming they’ll even see you, seeing as most mental health professionals hate us and refuse to treat us, despite most of us simply being traumatized and in pain. DBT therapy? You mean the victim blaming, human dog training, designed to discount a borderlines trauma and gaslight themselves into “behaving” properly-as to not disturb the peace. Woof woof, I’m good on that thanks. Well how about inpatient? The place where they shoot you up with sedatives, or stand over you and scream at you for crying, until they think you aren’t a danger to yourself anymore and throw you back in the world with no real plan or actual help. I’m good on that too…I like to poop on my own thanks.

If there’s anything I’ve found, it’s that there is no one answer, no real treatment, other than staying alive for something. For me, I guess that something is fear. I’m scared of what comes next, but sometimes I’m left to wonder if it’s possible for it to be worse than here. But than again, it can always get worse. Maybe it’s guilt? I’ve found it easy to ease my guilt about leaving when I think of how much my life lacks any substantial love or affection, aside from my mum (bless her poor heart) she’s all I’ve got, all I’ve ever had. And that’s too much to put on one person. IM too much to put on one person.

So that is why I feel like I’m already a ghost, I’m already dead, because honestly, I might as well be. And I don’t think it’s fair to guilt people like me into staying somewhere we aren’t wanted. But then again some other part of me deep inside, thinks I do deserve to live, and maybe just maybe, it’ll get better. That part of me doesn’t want to be so doleful and bitter. But I’m afraid that part of me is nieve and I’ll out grow it eventually. I’m afraid of what will happen when I finally do.

#bpd #actually bpd #bpd problems #bpd blog #bpd thoughts #bpd mood #bpd vent #bpd splitting #depression #actually mentally ill #mental illness #mentally fucked #mentally drained #i am in pain #sad thoughts #sad qoutes #bpd quotes

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tianawarner · 1 year

Text

Cougar Woods: A Sapphic Age-Gap Shifter Romance

“You live here alone?” Liza asked, stunned. It was the biggest house she’d ever been in, more like a lodge she once stayed at in Whistler.

“I’m… a solitary creature,” Winter said semi-apologetically.

Her home was somewhere between a log cabin and a mansion, both cozy and upscale. Everything was wood and stone. Through the back window, soft lights illuminated an infinity pool that looked out on the moonlit ocean. The burble of a waterfall carried faintly into the house.

Liza looked around for signs of a dog bowl or cat box. “Do you have any pets?”

Winter shook her head. “Completely alone.”

Liza shifted. Maybe she shouldn’t have come over if Winter preferred solitude. “I don’t have to stay. I was just a little shaken from—”

“No, stay. I can make an exception for you,” Winter said, her lips curving upward.

Whatever that look was, it sent a pleasant ripple through Liza.

Between Winter’s promise to help and the prospect of spending the night in this incredible house with this gorgeous woman, Liza’s spirits were better than they’d been since Brayson’s disappearance. She had a real chance of finding him and bringing him home. She just had to keep her cool until morning, when they could get started on a plan.

How did she get so lucky as to stumble on this woman right when she needed her?

“Can I get you a drink or do you want to get to sleep right away?” Winter asked.

“I think I’m too full of adrenaline to sleep right now,” Liza admitted. “If that’s okay. I don’t want to keep you up.”

Winter tilted her head. “Do you always spend more time worrying about others’ comforts before your own?”

Liza opened her mouth, realized that this might possibly be true, and closed it.

Winter led her to the vast kitchen with its bar-sized liquor cabinet. “How about a mojito? I have fresh mint that’s begging to be picked.” She motioned to the windowsill, where six pots of herbs grew.

“Sounds yummy.”

Liza couldn’t help smiling at the cute potted herbs, which had mint, parsley, and other names written on the sides in chalk. She imagined living in a house of her own one day, plants on the windowsill, a garden out back. Winter had built a comfortable life, and she’d done it solo, which was incredible. Again, curiosity about Winter’s life tugged at Liza. How had she earned the money to buy this place? What did she do for work, and what was her family like?

Winter grabbed a bottle of white rum from the wall and set it on the kitchen island.

While she made the drinks, Liza sat at a barstool and leaned on the island. “Is it weird to always put others’ comforts first?”

Winter looked up with a little smile. “It’s sweet. You’re a thoughtful person, Liza. I just wonder if you lose touch with your own needs.”

Liza chewed her lip, watching Winter’s hands while she poured shots and plucked mint with smooth movements.

She had nice hands. Nice fingers.

Help.

Liza crossed her legs and looked out the window. “When I was with my ex, I think I valued her opinions and approval more than my own,” she said, the words spilling out like she was in a confessional. “I kind of lost who I was. Couldn’t make decisions anymore.”

Winter slid a drink across the island. “How did Brayson feel about her?”

“He hated her. He didn’t say it outright but I could tell. He seemed relieved every time we broke up, and he would say things to try and get my self-esteem up.”

Winter’s eyebrows pulled down. She looked like she wanted to say something but bit her lip.

Liza grabbed her drink. The tall glass was cold beneath her fingers, and pretty to look at, with bright mint leaves and a lime wedge poking out of the top.

Why was she telling Winter all of this? She never talked about this with anyone. Maybe the near-death experience tonight was making her introspective. Or maybe it was Winter’s inviting presence.

“Did you break up when you made the decision to come here?” Winter asked quietly.

An uncomfortable sensation filled Liza’s chest. She nodded once. “She didn’t like it. She was worried about me. And I am a bit of a mess. I was always scrambling to fix something I did wrong.”

Winter walked around the bar and sat on the stool beside her. “I don’t think you were the problem in that relationship.”

Liza shrugged.

“You weren’t,” Winter said firmly.

Liza had the urge to defend Bec, but let that fizzle. Bec was absolutely manipulative. Liza’s mom had once used the word codependent to describe their relationship, which Liza had looked up and then burned with shame.

Deep down, she knew Winter was right. Liza wasn’t the problem.

“Your ex didn’t know what she had,” Winter said. “You’re smart, sweet, cute… you deserve to shine.”

Liza’s heart skipped at the compliment. Her cheeks burned. “Thanks.”

They were sitting close, facing each other on the barstools, their legs almost entwined.

Winter raised her mojito. “Cheers.”

“To not dying tonight,” Liza said, the image of that cougar’s fangs fresh in her mind’s eye.

Winter hesitated, then met her glass in a toast. The drink was fresh, sweet, and minty on Liza’s tongue.

“What about you?” Liza asked, eager to divert the focus from herself for a while.

“Any exes you had an unhealthy relationship with?”

Winter took a long sip. “I haven’t had time for relationships in my life. My job keeps me busy. Anything I’ve had has been a… fling.”

“With who?”

“Women I work with.”

Liza’s heart missed several beats. Women?

Interesting that she chose those words instead of just saying coworkers. Like she wanted Liza to know they were women.

Nothing seemed more appealing right now than leaning over and kissing Winter. The distance wasn’t that far, and yet it seemed like a mile. Winter’s perfume beckoned her closer.

“What is your job, anyway?” Liza asked, her mouth dry.

Winter broke eye contact. She brushed her bottom lip along the rim of her glass—plump, soft, kissable…

Keep reading Cougar Woods

#sapphic #sapphic romance #ff romance #wlw #lesfic #lesbian romance #sapphic paranormal romance #f/f #lesbian shifter #lesbian books #sapphic books #feline shifters

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binary-star-lilies · 2 years

Text

Day 13: Oceanic.

(pretend this isn’t late)

I originally did a drawing for this day’s prompt, but I was unsatisfied so scrambled to get this done. It’s definitely messy, but I really enjoyed working on it, so I don’t mind.

Fandom: House M.D

Paring(s): Greg House/James Wilson

Characters: Greg House, James Wilson

Warnings: None

It’s just fluff :).

Oceanic

House walks out into the kitchen yawning and stretching as Wilson looks up. “I thought you’d at least be asleep for another hour” he says and goes back to whatever he was doing, which was upon further investigation making breakfast.

House grumbles something indistinctly and sits down by the round dining table adjacent to the kitchen. Wilson had picked the place to stay, and it included a view to the ocean from the joint kitchen dining area.

House has always had a complex relationship with water, but even he could admit that the way the sun's rays caress the ocean horizon in the early august morning was quite nice.

“Did you sleep well?” Wilson asks glancing up from the pan and House nods, “I did, except for the fact I woke up in the middle of the night freezing because someone thought it was a good idea to only have one duvet”.

Wilson rolls his eyes and flips the pancake he was frying, “You could just have gotten out of bed to get one before we went to sleep” he notes.

House shakes his head making a clicking noise with his tongue disapprovingly he responds, “I have a bum leg”.

Wilson laughs lightly and says “Then you could have woken me up”.

House pouts sarcastically, standing up he counters, “Maybe I didn’t want you to be all grouchy in the morning, you get that way when you don’t get your beauty sleep”.

Wilson swats Houses hand away from the plate of pancakes, “Admit defeat, you didn’t want to wake me up because you liked the forced proximity by lack of extra bedding”.

House rolls his eyes, “I don’t need an excuse to cuddle”.

Wilson narrows his eyes, “Then why does a convenient one always come up then?”.

House shrugs and Wilson wafts his hand away from the pancakes again. “The mysteries of the universe” House snarks as Wilson pours the last of the pancake batter on the pan.

“Could you maybe set the table instead of standing there like a dog begging for food?” Wilson asks and House scoffs.

“Fine” after House lingers on the word for a suitable amount of time, the kitchen falls silent except for the ambient sounds of ocean waves crashing and cars motors buzzing peacefully outside.

House slides the fancy blue ocean themed placemats that Wilson had cooed over their first night here and stacks plates and cutlery and neatly places them on the table.

Wilson places the pancakes on the table along with maple sirup and chocolate spread, House smiles quietly to himself at the sight of the somewhat mangled blueberry smiley faces in the pancakes.

“I’m glad you appreciate my effort” Wilson says warmly and sits down at the table, House serves Wilson and then himself responding, “Of course I do, I’ve always done so”

Raising a brow Wilsons grabs the chocolate spread and says, “Well you haven’t always made it known”

“Hmmm, I think I have” House retorts, mouth half full.

Wilson chuckles softly and looks out the window at the dark blue light almost turquoise by the sun, “It’s a shame we only have 2 days left”.

Following Wilsons eye line and joining in watching the ocean, House nods, “We can always come back, or vacation somewhere else”

Wilson smiles and looks over to House. “Thank you” he says and House furrows his brows in mild confusion.

Wilson though doesn’t say anything further just goes back to staring at the calm water foaming white as the small waves break against the beach every now and again. There’s such enjoyment in savoring the quiet simple moments of sunrise orange and oceanic blue.

#house md #hilson #my writing #housevember22 #I don't care about this being out of character #I just want them to be happy #This is absolutely a continuation of the last prompts drawing concept #Gregory House #James Wilson

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brokenmusicboxwolfe · 2 years

Text

Well, today’s shopping trip sucked.

Money, obviously, was a big problem. I’d had an extra $100, so that I can get gas, but just the essentials ended up eating into it. At least I have $30 for some gas, but can NOT afford to do this.

Part of it was the nuttiness of the cat food. The dog food and hog food have gone up too, but at least they were available. With catfood over half the aisle was empty. There were only little 15lb bags of the more expensive brands, and I usually buy 30lb bags of a cheaper brand. So there I was, frantically figure out on the back of my shopping list what the cheapest way was to get the minimum of 90lbs of feed to last two weeks….and discovering I was going to be stuck spending a LOT more money than usual.

(The animals do NOT appreciate me! I didn’t buy myself spinach or crackers or several other things I’d had on my list, but I got everything they need. )

My budget was always tight. I used to have $200 a month left for anything that cropped up, and now I have $20 if I’m lucky. I don’t have any way of getting more money, so I guess I need to figure out how to cut back on food. That’s the only wiggle room left, and even there I don’t buy luxuries…unless you count a store brand $2 package of mozzarella to make myself a pizza once a month a luxury.

I am thinking I should give up on the hot water heater. It runs on kerosene, and at the rate the cost of it is going up I can’t keep it running. This was at least the fourth trip in a row when I couldn’t buy my usual amount to stay ahead of usage, and the tank is starting to get dry. I guess boiling water on the stove for showers and doing dishes isn’t the end if the world. I’ve done it for months before when the tank had a leaks. I just kinda hate it.

NO, I can’t get a new hot water heater that runs on something else. What part of being broke do you not understand?

Anyway, I was broke, and being reminded of it made me worry.

Then I made an idiot of myself.

Twice I got talking to guys I’ve been friendly with in stores. Yes, they are employees and I know I shouldn’t think if them as friends…but yeah, we feel like friends. Our chats tend to be two sided, so I know about their woes too. can ask if one is feeling better from his surgery, or if the other has gotten a break from the repair work at his home. I am always glad to see them because their “How are you doing?” feels legit.

Ugh, though. Today I was venting and rambling all over the place. I talking mile a minute, like a verbal about everything I’ve been dealing with. It was like one of my posts on here, except worse. I fear I’ve spoiled this treasured and rare bit of friendliness but saying too much . I half expect they will dread seeing me next time.

Anyway, by the time I was heading home it was already dark, and it decided to pick that time to rain. I was already all damp with sweat (it was above 80F, despite being November) so it wouldn’t have been a problem except for all the groceries getting wet. Soggy flour ain’t fun. I tried to speed up the process of moving the groceries up the driveway with a dolly/hand cart, only the tired were flat and one wheel stopped turning. My flashlight failed. The bags tore and spilled out in the mud. I slipped on the wet leaves on the ramp. The cats were all under foot for their supper, and Ryoga was shouting for his. I felt like shouting back!

#my day #venting #shopping #rambles #tired #poverty

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sodasss · 2 years

Text

// abuse, neglect, mentions of sui/ed/sh, substance abuse

one of my mom’s ways of abusing me is throwing away my depression and anxiety meds, not taking me to appointments and letting my health decline because she knows i never say anything

i just got done with the dentist, thanks to my grandma making and taking me to the appointment. i’m a minor (15) so i can’t drive myself to appointments or get my own meds.

next week i have to go back to the dentist to get a few cavities filled, i haven’t been in a year and a half. issues with my back have gotten worse and i’m barely able to walk more than two miles now.

though i do think these kinds of things fall more under neglect than abuse.

when i was 11-13, my mom didn’t talk to me. at all. we lived under the same roof, except her boyfriend at the time lived with us. he was nice enough, at least he actually talked to me and tried to care about how i was doing. my mom ignored and shunned me when i tried to tell her that i had been struggling with sh, ana, and wanting to die. i still struggle with these things, and part of me thinks it’s because she ignored me when i tried to tell her.

the first time she talked to me in two years was to tell me that isn’t biological dad had died. her boyfriend left not a week earlier.

since then she’s left me to my own devices. i have to clean the house, cook dinner, look after the cats, dog, lizards, and my guinea pig.

the cats are easy enough to take care of, so are the two lizards. beelzebub, my guinea pig, never really does much, but she likes laying on me while i nap. the dog is a lot to take care of though.

all that, plus being a high school student with depression, multiple anxiety disorders (gender dysphoria, ptsd, cptsd, selective mutism), and chronic pain and chronic fatigue, and i get yelled at and beaten for my grades not being perfect.

it’s gotten to the point where footsteps nearing my room makes me flinch, and i know i can’t call cps on my mom because i’ve done it before and she lied to them. she told them i was lying. she still blames me for it and brings it up every time we argue.

“what are you gonna do? call cps? they won’t believe a liar like you.” she would say as she beats me down. day after day, weeks, months, years i’ve had to deal with this and her words will always sting.

last year i was failing biology, and i broke down in the classroom in front of the teacher because the grading period had ended that day and my mom would see i was failing three classes. i told her everything, how my mom was neglecting me, beating me, and how i had to take care of everything because my mom sits in her room getting high all day, how i had turned to alcohol to cope, as well as cvtting and my ana getting worse. she just hugged me and said that i needed more help than she could give, but if i ever needed to get away for a while or sleep in class, she would let me stay after school to make up what i slept through.

she said she’ll be here for me, whatever it is i need, then she sent me to the office. the counselor called my mom after the teacher told her what was happening with me and my telling her about my sh and substance abuse.

the counselor said she had to call my mom. i screamed and cried and begged her not to because the consequences would be horrible if she ever found out what i was doing. she didn’t listen.

the next day i showed up to school with bruises around my neck and all over the rest of my body. no one cared.

i don’t know what to do anymore. i’m so stressed and i’m scared. scared of her, of everything now. i’ve been 16 weeks sober, 7 weeks clean, still struggling with my ed but recovering.

i think i’m going to try moving out, but i don’t really even have a place to go.

#tw vent #vent post #personal vent #actuallyabused #just cptsd things #sorry for the vent #physical abuse #mental abuse #actually neglected #tw ed mention #tw sh mention

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mercy-burning · 3 years

Text

Roommate Agreement

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader x Luke Alvez Summary: After about a year of living with Spencer, Y/N gets excited when he introduces her to a new potential roommate. Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Free use, threesome, cum play, penetrative/unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex (male receiving), rough sex, dirty talk Word Count: 2.3k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: I was gonna write this as a blurb, but it got a little longer than I anticipated lol. I’ve been super into this kink/fantasy lately, so uh.. this was just pure indulgence 🥰✌

———

Apartment hunting and living on my own sucked, which is why Spencer Reid coming into my life was the biggest blessing I ever could have hoped for. He was handsome, kind, welcoming... And he let me live with him for free.

Well, not entirely.

But regardless of our little agreement, I still slip him some cash when rent comes up because it's just common courtesy. I'm grateful that he lets me stay with him and provides me with what I need (and then some), and if there's any way for me to return that favor, I'll do it.

He gets annoyed with me whenever I do it, but I always know how to get him to forget about it...

Just thinking about last night brings a smile to my face as I put away the last few glasses in their respective cupboards.

The heavy padding of Spencer's feet behind me makes me turn around then, and I nearly clench my legs at the sight of him, dressed and ready for work, except his dick is out and hefty in his right hand. It's hard, leaking, and by the look on his face I can tell he's about ready to let go.

"Give me your panties, sweetheart."

Before he even gets out the whole sentence, I make quick work of lifting my shirt out of the way and opening up the fabric, pulling it away from my body and giving him an opening. He walks up with a hungry kiss to my jaw as he jerks himself off, right into my panties until he's making a mess of them. I sigh out happily as he hums against my skin.

And when he's done, he kisses my cheek chastely and uses my shirt to clean up a bit before tucking himself back neatly into his pants. I adjust my panties and feel the warmth spread over my skin while he grabs his bag from the back of the chair to leave.

"Have a good day, Doctor," I call with a cute smile, my hand dipping down to feel the mess he made and wishing he didn't have to go.

"You too, sweetheart," he returns with a wink. He turns to leave, but before he's at the door, he throws back, "Oh, and make sure you're dressed properly when I get back, he's coming over with me after work."

"Wait, really?" I ask brightly, my heart starting to race.

"Mhm. He's excited to meet you."

I’d had plans to run some errands today, but as soon as he tells me the good news, I know I won't be able to get anything done.

———

The second I hear the door, I'm waiting like a dog with a wagging tail, excited for extra company and eager to make a new friend. I flatten my tiny skirt, though with how frilly it is, it really makes no difference— I think that as excited as I am, I'm definitely anxious about potentially adding a new person to our dynamic.

My hands reach behind my back and clasp together as I rock slowly on my feet, ready to welcome them when they come through the door.

Spencer, as always, looks positively delicious, and it only amplifies when he sees me and smiles, reaching out for me. "Somebody's excited..."

In his embrace, I laugh and welcome his hand as it slips up the front of my skirt to make sure I've followed his instructions. He quickly runs his middle finger through my opening, a smile forming on his lips— I can feel it against my neck. "Good girl."

"I couldn't help it," I tell him earnestly, refraining from whining in protest when he removes himself from me entirely. Then I look over his shoulder to see our guest of honor, Spencer's co-worker Luke Alvez. With a shy smile, I reach my hand out to shake his. "I have a new guest to impress."

Luke accepts my hand with a smile all his own, accompanied by wandering eyes that make me feel warm from head-to-toe. It reminds me of how I felt when I first met Spencer while apartment hunting last year. Luke's eyes are just a few shades darker but regardless of color, the hunger swimming within them remains plentiful.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," he says smoothly. His voice makes me feel a whole new sense of ease and the overwhelming need to submit to him entirely. "I've heard great things."

With introductions out of the way, Spencer ushers Luke into the apartment and I close the door. "Let me show you around a bit," he says, and the two walk off, leaving me to follow behind.

We tour the whole apartment, Spencer taking his sweet time with the walking and the talking... I swear he's doing it on purpose, to make me wait and get me riled up, but regardless I stay patient and involve myself in their conversations as normal. Actually, it would have all felt like a completely normal apartment tour in the first place, had I not been thinking about how the men accompanying me would use me in the future...

Spencer saves the living room for last, and once we make it to the couch, I pray that he's ready to start showing Luke the added benefit of choosing to live here rather than in an apartment by himself...

And he knows me so well, because he pulls me aside with a cheeky smile, his hand resting firmly on my ass and under my skirt. "So, Alvez, you wanna give her a whirl?"

"You're uh... You're sure this is alright? You don't mind?"

His concern is sweet, but I can see the lust sparkling in his eyes as he looks over me once more.

Spencer laughs a bit, squeezing my ass with a nod. "Of course. Look how happy she is to see you... So ready to be used up..."

Luke's tongue darts out over his bottom lip at my roommate's words, his decision becoming more clear.

Still, I help out. "It's true... When Spencer first mentioned adding a new roommate to our arrangement, I couldn't wait... And you're perfect.

"So what do you say?" Spencer asks once more with finality.

Luke strides over to me slowly, my head tilting higher with each inch he gets closer. He looks down at my lips and smiles before bringing his thumb gently to my mouth. "This pretty little mouth has been calling to me since I walked through the door..."

I hear Spencer laugh beside me as Luke slips his thumb past my lips and over my tongue. I suck it into my mouth with a tiny groan, flitting my eyes up at him and arching my back as Spencer's grip on my ass gets tighter.

"Get on the couch, sweetheart," he says, letting go and giving me a small spank.

Luke's thumb pops out of my mouth and I stumble to the couch, getting on all fours so my hands are on the arm and my knees are buried in one of the cushions.

The unmistakable sound of their laughing fills my ears and makes me even more eager, though I know better than to tell them outright what I want. Unless either of them asks me to, I'm not going to beg. I mean, I'm not sure about Luke, but I know that Spencer prefers when I use visual signs in our daily routine. He likes to hear me use my words, sure, but that's only on occasions where he's in a happier, more giving mood. Most of the fucking we do is when he comes home frustrated and needs to take. No questions asked.

And truthfully, I like that more. Which is why I'd agreed to be his roommate in the end.

Spencer does seem to be more giving today, moving this right along and taking his pants off before walking over to me while his friend follows suit, but I follow our rules anyway, wanting to make a good impression on Luke (though I'm positive I've already secured that bag).

Luke's pants come off too, though he waits until he's right in front of my face. I'm looking up at him with my bottom lip between my teeth, and when he starts to work at his belt, I look down to see.

Meanwhile I feel Spencer's weight dip down behind me, and it doesn't take long for him to slide right in, spreading my legs further and beginning to fuck me steadily. He gathers my hair from my face and into a makeshift ponytail with one hand while the other rests at my hip. "You gonna be a big girl and open your mouth wide, or do I have to make you?"

I respond in kind by slacking my jaw and welcoming Luke, his hands coming down to tilt my chin and slide his thick, hard dick into my mouth.

"That's right, sweetheart," Spencer praises, giving me another small spank and a slight tug of the hair. Meanwhile Luke is slowly fucking my throat, pushing himself deeper with each thrust.

Eventually, the two of them are fucking me with perfect rhythm. Each time Spencer goes in, Luke goes out, and their force is even the same. It's building and building with each second, and I can feel my whole body start to go numb with pleasure. My knees are tingling from the couch, my ass is surely red from how many times Spencer has spanked me, and my throat is bruising beautifully.

Spencer's hand releases my ass and reaches out to my throat. The way he's bending forward gives him a deeper angle inside me, and I can't help the choked whimper that comes out of my mouth because of it. He can feel it, too, because his fingers rest just under my chin.

"His cock feels so good down your throat, doesn't it, baby?" he coos, driving into me harder.

I squeeze my eyes shut for a few seconds to blink away the tears that blur my vision, and when I open them I look up at Luke, pure unadulterated bliss painting his features. He looks down at me with awe and lust and need, and I can tell that it won't be long before he snaps.

"When he comes, you're gonna keep it in, okay? I wanna see it..."

I clench around Spencer at his words, and my orgasm follows shortly after. As soon as I start to come down, Luke holds himself still at the back of my throat and comes with a shout, his hands rooting in my hair. I try my hardest to keep it all in, meanwhile Spencer starts to stutter as well. And by the time Luke is pulling himself away from me, his friend is coming inside me, just like he's done so many times before.

It's a familiar, wonderful feeling, though this time it's even better because I know I have cum filling both ends of me. I feel so full, so warm and numb and fucked out, and I never want to go a single day without it that way.

When Spencer pulls out and leaves the couch, Luke makes room for him in front of me. He steps into view then, reaching his hand out to pry my mouth open and examine his friend's work.

"Oh, sweetheart, you look so pretty with all Luke's cum in your mouth... Doesn't she look pretty, Alvez?"

The other man muses, his hand coming down to graze my cheek. Both their hands are on either side of my face, and they're gazing down at me with such wonderment that I swear I'll do anything to feel this way again— to make them feel this way again.

"She sure does," Luke says, and I nuzzle into his hand. "Just like a proper cumdump."

Their words and their eyes and their touches send butterflies soaring through my whole body and bring an open-mouthed smile to my face.

"You can swallow now," Spencer says, tapping my cheek. I do, and immediately afterwards he leans down to kiss me deeply. I lean into him and flutter my eyes closed, the feeling of his cum dripping out of me and down my leg only adding to the blissful state I'm in.

He pulls away, and I glance over at Luke, who has his dick in his hand and an amused smile on his face. "Damn, I could almost go again..."

I can tell he only means it as a way to keep the mood light, maybe as a joke, but in hopes that it will make him more comfortable with the idea that he can quite literally use me whenever he wants to, I smile as sincerely as I can. "That's what I'm here for," I offer brightly, getting up off the couch and trying to stand on wobbling legs.

I somehow manage, Spencer helps to steady me, and then he laughs, kissing me on the cheek. "You two have fun. I'm gonna shower, and then I have to take care of some errands. That okay with you?"

Luke and I give our approval, Spencer kisses me once more, and then admires me for a few seconds before throwing his friend a wink and heading off to the shower.

The moment I'm alone with Luke Alvez, he takes my hand and gives it a kiss. "You really are something special, princess..."

The nickname, while not entirely new since Spencer had mumbled it a few times with my mouth wrapped around his dick, sounds absolutely delightful coming from Luke's lips.

"Thank you," I purr, leading him to the couch and pulling him on top of me. "But there's still so much for you to discover..."

He hums amusedly, tracing my mouth with his thumb again. This time I take it gently between my teeth before he slips his cock inside me, which inadvertently makes me let go of it in favor of a whimper.

"Well, then I guess it's a good thing I'm moving in..."

———

PERMANENT TAGLIST (tags not working are struck out):

@elldell1204 @muffin-cup @calm-and-doctor @slutforthegubes @rainsong01 @yourmisosoup @liveloudwriteloud @reidsconverse @la-vie-en-amour1 @edgycowboy666 @averyhotchner @centiaaa @lizziechaseee @coffeeandendlesswords @usuck @spenxerslut @goldensonlyangel @emilyprentisslittlewhore @takeyourleap-of-faith @reidyoulikeabook @spencerreid9 @b-a-utiful @jareauswifey @flipperpenguins @pansexualthing @donald4spiderman @awesomebooklover17 @shemarmooresfedora @izraahh1 @bakugouswh0r3 @singularityjc @xoxospencerreid @thatsonezesty13 @big-galaxy-chaos @mggskneescrews @youabitchhhh @spencersjello @moonlight-2-6 @starrylang @foreveryoungxx3 @spencerreidscoffeecup @morganwilliams @emilyprsntiss @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @gubswh0re @mrsobrien888 @loveeee2134 @umbreonwolfy @ayla-1605

If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, feel free to message me or leave a comment and I’ll get on it right away!

#spencer reid x reader #ralvez x reader #spencer reid x reader x luke alvez #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #luke alvez smut #luke alvez fanfiction #luke alvez x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #luke alvez x reader smut #ralvez x reader smut #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfiction #luke alvez #spencer reid

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sugarylawliet · 3 years

Text

no good for me (light yagami x reader)

i’m back lol

> warnings: smut, degradation, spit kink, inappropriate use of the death note, VERY toxic relationship, song fic kinda, lyrics are in bold and italics, based off of diet mountain dew by lana del ray

> tag list: @ygm1slt @cradiot28

❛ you’re no good for me, baby you’re no good for me ❜

Nothing on this earth scared you more than the man you were about to see; the pretty boy brunette flaunting good grades and a picturesque family life whose facade of ambitious, respectful young man was a mask almost no one could see through. Some people felt dread at the thought of spiders or snakes, felt fear in their stomach imagining the paranormal, shadow ghosts or criminal stalkers invading their comfort zones. None of these perfectly rational fears scared you the way Light Yagami scared you. There was no fear to be had at the thought of something undesirable creeping its way into your privacy or comfort zone, because Light had manipulated his way into your comfort and trust long ago. He was scarier than a murderer ready to kill at an urge’s call, his blood lust hid in shadows behind his golden boy facade, his words were tools and his touches were negotiations. You couldn’t trust a single thing that came from his mouth, you often questioned your own sanity. Light Yagami had a terrifying grip on you, and it was exactly what he wanted.

Your eyes scan over the text Light had sent you for the millionth time, the words almost ingrained in your head at this point.

Come to my house. We need to talk.

You were sure he kept his words vague on purpose, yet another tactic to keep you at his disposal out of pure fear. You weren’t exactly sure if you loved Light anymore; what was your definition of love at this point? You loved him, yes, but was it out of obligation? Was it survival instinct?

It was true, in the beginning you had loved Light purely and truly. You believed his ambition was justice, to make the world a better and safer place for you. But as time went on, “Kira doesn’t kill innocents” began racking up more and more exceptions, and as the twisted justifications spilled from his mouth, so did the gaslighting. Over and over, his sweet words convinced you to keep coming back. His empty promises were a drug and you were addicted.

His text, you were sure, was a reference to this fizzling out of your love for him. He could sense it, and surely he must have found out you were planning on leaving. You weren’t planning on revealing that he’s Kira- that would cause more commotion you were not interested in being a part of- no, you simply wanted to move states, get away and forget about Light Yagami, forget about Kira and Ryuzaki and Ryuk and everything that has overtaken your life. However, if he did find out your plans to skip town, you may just have to reveal that he’s Kira for safety measures.

❛ you’re no good for me, but baby i want you ❜

Hestiently, you opened the door you had been staring at blankly for what felt like hours. Light had been staying in an upscale hotel during the investigation, so maybe the other tenants could hear you if you screamed for help; the overdramatic thought brought you comfort.

You walk in the room, closing the door behind you. You’re met with the sight of Light’s back as he sits in the rolling chair across the room. In the absence of any words, without even seeing his face, you know he’s mad. Every slight change of Light’s emotions could strangle a whole room by tension alone; his aura manipulated the feeling in the air, which served as a helpful alarm to know when he is upset. And man, is he upset.

You open your mouth to greet him, but he cuts you off, spinning around in his chair to face you, “Don’t talk.” You nod and close your mouth. Why do you even listen to what he says?

“I knew I couldn’t trust you. From the very beginning I knew you would run that pretty little mouth of yours. I know you’re planning on leaving. And then what? Telling the first news outlet you see that I’m Kira?”

“No Light,”

“I said don’t talk.” He stands up from his chair, “If you tell everyone, you’ll also have to tell on yourself. Imagine what everyone would think of you if they knew...You knew I was Kira and you still dated me, you defended me, you kept my secret, you even got on your knees for me. Are you gonna tell that to the media? That you let Kira fuck you?”

You purse your lips, restraining yourself from talking back. You knew it would only make things worse, but you couldn’t stand the way he talked down on you and expected you to take it.

“Come here.” He motioned to his desk and you followed, sitting on his lap per his instruction. He placed the death note open on the desk, handing you the pen. With one hand gripping yours and the other on your hip, he began to guide your hand, the pen spilling out the first letter of your name on the pages.

❛ do you think we’ll be in love forever? ❜

“N-No, Light, you can’t do this, please.” You begged, your heart rate quickening as you realize what he was doing. It can’t end like this, it just can’t.

“Shhh, just write. That’s it, baby. This is what bad girls get, you see?” His death grip tightened on your hand as he spelled out your name, the last letters leering closer and closer before you could register the implications of what he was doing. This was it, this was really it.

Light lets his free hand wander up to your jawline, pulling your face closer to yours and enveloping you in a kiss as he wrote the last letter of your name. You shake your head with a whine, however he disregards your concerns and runs his hand on your upper thigh.

“What’s the matter, Y/n? Don’t wanna spend your last moments with me?~” His nose kisses your neck, and the soft, sensual gestures almost make you forget your life was quite literally slipping away at every second that ticked by. 40 seconds. You had 40 seconds to do something.

You jump off of Light’s lap, reality rushing to your lungs as you felt your world closing in. Your pants become heavier, harsh air ripping through your throat as if they were the last breaths you would ever take because, well- they were.

Your head felt buzzing and dizzy as you fell to your knees, crawling towards Light who had spun around in his chair so his back was facing you; completely apathetic. After all you’ve been through together, after all you’ve done for him, nothing. Nothing at all.

You crawl closer, grasping towards the notebook Light held in his hands, your weakness limiting your reach as anxiety stole your clearness of mind. He only chuckles at your meek attempts to save your own life. Your head was racing as your nervousness blacked out everything in the room except for the little black notebook your boyfriend had a death grip on; ‘I’m running out of time, I’m going to die, I need the death note, I need to cross my name out, I need it I need it I need it I-’

“Goodbye, Y/N. You were fun to play with for a while.” Light kisses your nose with an arrogant smirk, peeling your hands off from his lap and wrists before checking his watch, signaling your last few seconds.

You quit your pitiful attempts to grab the notebook and instead push yourself further and further away from Light until your back hit the wall, lacing your fingers tightly in your hair as you cried your last moments away.

“5, 4, 3 2...” Light spoke.

“No no no no no, please god,” You cried out, squeezing your eyes shut in preparation for the pangs you would soon feel in your chest.

“1...”

And

Nothing.

You breathe. You let the air flood your lungs; it shouldn’t be possible. You dare to open your eyes, revealing the same scene. You, pathetically on the floor with tears down your face, Light before you in his chair with his head thrown back in a maniacal laugh.

He tossed the death note down to you, like a dog being thrown a bone. You frantically grab it and flip to the newest page, your name scratched out with two thick lines.

You were alive- no, he let you live.

❛ hit me my darling tonight, i don’t know why but i like it

“Well?” Light asks expectingly, standing up from his chair and kicking it to the side of the room. You look up at him questioningly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as tears still brimmed your eyes from the just-curved anxiety attack.

“No ‘thank you’? I spared your life even after you betrayed me- lied to me. You’re so ungrateful.”

“I, I-” You found it difficult to shape your words with your hitching breath. You inhale deeply, eyes closed, calming down, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Light.”

Why were you even apologizing?

“I’m so sorry, please, just take me back. I’m sorry.” The words spilled from your mouth so quickly simply because they felt right. You needed to apologize, you did wrong, you need to be good. You wanted him back more than anything so you can be good.

❛ scary, my god, you’re divine ❜

“That’s right,” Light smiled, his voice softening unnaturally, “Now, how about you come over here and show me just how sorry you are.”

You hesitate for a second before crawling over to him. You sit obediently with your legs beneath your thighs on the floor in front of him.

“Mm, that’s my babygirl.” He pets your head affectionately, coherencing a smile from you. Despite everything he’s done, he always knew how to reel you back in. You needed the approval. You needed his approval.

You look up at him with puppydog eyes, to which he cocks his head to the side. “You know what I want.”

Nodding, you slowly unzipper his khaki pants and pull out his cock. You run your hand up and down, pumping it slowly.

“Don’t be a fucking tease” Light scoffs, raking his fingers through your hair and forcing your mouth down onto him. That sweet, caring demeanor was gone in barley a second- of course it was. What were you expecting? It was a thinly veiled facade and you fell for it everytime without exception.

Light groans, pushing your head further onto him as you try not to gag. You feel the tip of him hit the back of your throat as he thrusts into your mouth faster. “God, Y/N, you take my cock so well. Hah, if only the media could see you now. Poor little Y/N wants to run away from big bad Kira, meanwhile here she is on her knees for him, sucking him off like the dirty slut she is.”

He lets out a deep sigh before pulling out of your mouth. “Be useful for once and get on the bed.” He commands, bringing you to your feet with his strong grip on your hair and pushing you in the direction of the bed. You obey, sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for his next instruction.

Light slinks over to you, standing over your figure as his delicate fingers dance up your inner thigh. He takes off your skirt and slowly rubs your clit through the fabric of your panties.

“Mmm, Light, more...” You buck your hips up to meet his touch, his movements were agonizingly slow and you needed more friction.

“More?” At once he removes his hand from between your legs and grabs your face, your jaw in between the tight hold of his thumb and forefingers. “You want more, huh? You don’t get to make demands of me. You really think i’m gonna give you what you want after that stunt you pulled? Hah, I’m not letting you off that easy.”

You let out a whine, bucking your hips again asking to be touched.

“Aww, poor baby...” Light cooed, “Open up.” You obeyed, opening your mouth before Light brought your face closer to his, spitting in your mouth. “Now swallow.”

You do, earning a smirk from Light. “Mm, good girl. Good girls get rewarded.”

He pulls your panties aside before dipping two slender fingers inside you; wasting no time, he pumps them in and out frantically.

“Oh god Light, fuck,”

“You’re so wet for me Y/N, you like this, don’t you? I knew you would, such a dirty whore. You like when I treat you like this? You like being treated for the slut you are? God, you probably got wet when I almost killed you. It makes me hard, having you under my thumb like this, under my control...”

“Fuck Light, it feels so good, I’m close...”

Quickly, he removes his fingers from you once again, earning a cry from you at the loss of heat. “Please Light, I need you so bad,” You beg.

“What did I say? You’re still not forgiven for that stunt you pulled. Don’t whine.” He wraps his hand around your throat, pushing you down onto your back.

He fully pulls his boxers down, aligning himself with your entrance.

“Beg for it.”

“Please, please light, god, I need it so badly. I want you.”

“Hmm, yeah? You’re so desperate for my cock? I’m not convinced.”

“Please, Light, I’ll never be bad again, I’ll never mess up again. I need your cock so badly, I need you to use me. Do anything you want.”

“Mm, that’s more like it,” Light remarks before pushing into you, earning a loud moan. HIs thrusts were slow, no doubt teasing you.

“Oh, Light, please, faster...”

“More demands? God, you’re such a needy slut. Fine.” His grip on your throat tightens, pushing you further into the bed as he snaps his hips into you without mercy. His pace is relentless, quickly finding your g-spot.

“Fuck, Light. It... it feels- fuck,”

“Hah, stupid slut, what’s wrong? Cat’s got your tongue? Or is it me fucking you so hard you can’t even think straight, can’t form sentences?”

His words only egg on your approaching orgasam, “Hmmph, it- it feels so good. I’m gonna...”

With that, Light pulls you up slightly by your neck before slamming you roughly back into the bed, thrusting into you with speed. “Cum, show me how sorry you are.”

You obey, releasing with a loud moan of his name. He finishes soon after, roughly letting go of your throat. “Clean yourself up. You look like a fucking mess.”

You slip your panties and skirt back on as Light sits apathetically at his desk, his focus buried in paperwork. You heart skinks to your stomach.

Once you finish dressing, Light allows you to leave, informing you of the Kira case work he had to finish and opening the door for you.

“And Y/N,” He catches your attention before you step into the hallway of the hotel, “Let this be a lesson. Don’t ever try to leave me again. You’re mine.” He grabs your jaw and kisses you tenderly- but you weren’t stupid. You knew the motivation behind it, and let you still kissed his soft lips back and let yourself melt into him.

“Goodbye,” He remarks after pulling away, “Behave yourself.”. The door slams in your face.

You can still feel his cum dripping from your heat daring to spill out of your panties. The hallway was empty, allowing reality to rush to you at once. Your senses only seem clear when you were alone- with Light, you didn’t see with your own eyes or hear with your own ears.

You let your back touch the door of Light’s hotel room, slowly sliding down until you were sitting on the carpeted floor. Your life was broken pieces and you cut yourself picking up the glass shards, relishing in the fact that your boyfriend liked the way the blood looked on your pricked fingers.

❛ hurt me and tell me you’re mine, i don’t know why but i like it. ❜

#i did not proof read this lol sorry for mistakes #Light Yagami #light yagami x reader #light yagami x reader smut #light yagami smut #toxic! light yagami #death note #death note smut #anime #death note x reader

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

Text

SW Suddenly-Omegaverse AU: Surrogacy, Worldbuilding, Obi-Mom

Truly the main irony of all this is that everyone considers Obi-Wan the Better Omega but Anakin is the one who's actually 👀👀👀 about pregnancy

Obi-Wan: I have the deepest respect for those who do it, but the idea of growing another person inside of me is weird and gross, no, thank you.

Meanwhile Anakin is like. Immediate baby fever. Someone actually approaches him like "hey... there are forms you can fill out to request an exception for pregnancy, and like... regulations" because he's that obvious about it.

I assume that if they've got safety nets for accidental pregnancies, then they're probably aware that there are people who want to do it on purpose? I feel like in an omegaverse where 'biological imperative to procreate' can be so much more intense, then maybe there's old precedent that stuck around even after suppressants got most of those hormones under better control.

Bit torn. Just know I want Anakin to Make Baby.

"Anakin, what are you--" "Do you think offering to be someone's surrogate would be acceptable to the council as a way to be pregnant without getting attached." "...what." "They'd probably accept that as a way to practice not getting attached, right?" "N...no, that's not... what?"

Anakin approaching Bail and Breha and being like “Do you... still want a kid? I would provide a kid. Do you want one here*?”

* in this dimension

Great way to give up the baby as a parent because he'd still be able to see them once in a while but also like... it's not HIS kid, technically. He can be a cool uncle who happened to give birth, which is distant enough to not be 'attached,' but close enough that his Tatooine-raised 'must ensure family is safe whenever possible' background doesn't flip out. It helps that 'Core World Royalty' is like... a top-tier family to be raised in.

(It would have to be post-war because he probably shouldn’t be risking his life while very pregnant. He needs to be reminded of that sometimes.)

Bail/Breha is an alpha/alpha relationship and while a pregnancy is still possible,* it’s a whole lot more difficult, and that's on top of Breha's canon medical issues that resulted in her heart and lungs getting replaced.

* AFAB alphas can get pregnant, and AMAB omegas can inseminate, but the success rate on that angle is much lower than the 'traditional' alpha/omega roles, as is any attempt at reproduction outside rut/heat. They're low-fertility overall for the non-dominant aspect of their reproductive system, which... ha, Anakin and Obi-Wan try to get explanations for why the senary system works the way it does, but it's a very longform history lesson that comes down to 'idk this got cemented so long ago that nobody really knows why anymore.'

AKA "why do you title these roles male omega and female alpha instead of intersex omega and intersex alpha since both parties have both genitals."

ANYWAY

Anakin: I want to make babies. But I don't want to get kicked out of the order. But I don't want to give up my own babies for adoption. But I can't keep my own babies if I want to stay a Jedi. So basically I want to have someone else's babies? Anakin: ...wait shit that's just surrogacy.

Anakin, calling up Obi-Wan: Hey are the Organas still struggling to have a kid? Obi-Wan: ...not really your business. Anakin: You're friends with Bail again though, right? Obi-Wan: I am, but-- Anakin: Do you think they'd want me to be a surrogate? Obi-Wan: What.

I can't decide if it's funnier for the Order to be like "I mean... technically there's no rules against this?" or if this is a precedent set by at least three omegas every generation because that's just how a/b/o manifested for omegas in a biological and cultural sense.

Bail: Wait, your former apprentice is... volunteering... to be our surrogate. Obi-Wan, exhausted: Yes. Bail: He barely knows us. Obi-Wan: He respects you and you're the closest people he knows that want a child and would be good parents. Bail: And he's just... volunteering? Obi-Wan: Yes. Also, you did say your primary worry was that a surrogate might be targeted for assassination and you couldn't ask someone to risk that, right? Anakin is very much able to avoid assassins, and would be staying primarily in the Temple anyway. Very safe, and not particularly scared of assassins in the first place. Bail: Your words say you approve, but your tone says otherwise. Obi-Wan: Anakin considers me his father. I'm not old enough to be a grandparent. Bail: Ah.

Anakin is a surrogate and enjoys it and everything is fine and then like a year later he's accidentally pregnant with his own and Rex's kid, and nobody knows how to ask if it's actually an accident.

A suggestion from @gelpenss:

OH MAN i.... have to drive home. But I just had a thought about like. I always want to poke at Betas in A/B/O like are they “normal” or different from our standard or.... but ANYWAY assuming they have a pheromonal thing I just think it would be neat if betas had the ability to be the Bucket of Cold Water. Like if caught early enough, and with the caveat it’s not permanent, a beta could arrest a rut or heat in its tracks until a more ideal time. Like. They aren’t birth control. But they are the remind me later button.

Okay done driving I am Returned to bring up why I brought up betas and it’s this: well okay 1. It plays nice with a popular but inaccurate dog breeding urban legend that female dogs will like, delay heat cycles? so that the bitches above them in pack hierarchy have first choice of mate selection. And I think in omegaverse it would be cool if that was a Bio Fact, and also historically enforced by the third designation. 2. It gives me an excuse to have betas have the Most Sensitive sense of smell because it’s their “job” to pick up on things before they go too far to be put on pause. 3. I’m just thinkin ‘bout a beta clone [...] just hovering around Obi-Wan because they found out how much stress his heat cycle causes and they’re like “okay cool I will help make sure it does Not”

I want to like a/b/o verses but betas niggle at me. I want to give them a hat and a Function that woulda helped before modern medicine.

I'm not sure how I feel about betas being able to delay heats, but I do like the idea of them having a more sensitive sense of pheromone smell than most. Most aliens assume it's omegas with the best sense of smell, and betas with the worst, but it's more complicated than that because they all specialize: Alphas are actually less attuned to pheromone smells, but more attuned to things that were useful back when humans were still a hunter-gatherer species. Omegas tend to be heightened towards danger smells like fire or aggression, and pheromones relating to children/care. Betas, as suggested above, are very sensitive to pheromone changes relating to mood and behavior of the community around them.

I like the idea that betas were historically the ones that ended up taking care children, unmated omegas, and so on during people's heats and ruts, because they kept their heads about themselves long enough to do things like cook and clean while someone was reeking of hormones. The checks and balances work out that betas may have lower fertility, but it makes them better able to support the network around them.

It works in with humanity's general collective history of thriving the most when working as a community.

Given that I decided that this is Jangobi, the clones might all subconsciously view Obi-Wan as Mom. Not intentionally, but, you know... Obi-Wan the not-evil stepmother. He doesn't know how he got into this situation, but he sure is here, and he sure as hell doesn't know how to get out.

Obi-Wan "I don't need to get pregnant, I have three million stepchildren" Kenobi

I definitely love "clones all want to make Obi-Wan's heats less stressful" but like in a different way from Whatever The Fuck Anakin's Got Going On.

Obi-Wan using the force to dull the pain in a Shiny's broken leg while the medic works on it and the Shiny just mumbles "Thanks mom" and everyone gets very embarrassed and pretends it didn't happen.

But then it happens again. And again.

Obi-Wan asks for an explanation from Cody and gets a halting response that, since Jango is technically their father, and his scent has been all over Obi-Wan recently... and Obi-Wan puts in a lot of effort to take care of them all.......

Anakin overhears the clones calling Obi-Wan "mom" and just. The most judgmental eyebrow raise.... Mostly in the sense of "You never let me call you dad" "Thought you said you weren't anyone's parent." "Hey, hey, Obi-Wan. What the fuck."

BOBA. BOBA ABSOLUTELY CALLS OBI-WAN MOM WHENEVER POSSIBLE. IT'S DEEPLY FRUSTRATING.

Obi-Wan eventually manages to admit that he's uncomfortable with it at minimum because of the gendering the word has for him, can they at least use the neutral 'buir' instead?

Word spreads like fire, takes like two days max for everyone to switch.

(Anakin demands cuddles as compensation for not getting to call Obi-Wan any true parental term for years.)

#Anakin Skywalker #Obi Wan Kenobi #Bail Organa #Rexwalker #Jangobi #Captain Rex #Commander Cody #Boba Fett #star wars #the clone wars #omegaverse #SW Suddenly Omegaverse #mpreg tw #phoenix posts

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dodo-begone · 3 years

Text

Could you Not?

Pairing: Techno x Reader

Request: yooo remember a while ago when we were talking abt Techno hiding you from the yandere boys?? that would be hella neat to see ngl —

Word count: 1.9k

Warning: yandere, stockholm syndrome, kidnapping, panic attack at end

A/n: yan!minors are mentioned, that’s why there’s a yandere warning.

The day was predestined to be great; a day full of sunshine and peace. So many potatoes would be tilled, the dog army would grow exponentially and other calming hobbies.

Now let’s be honest, that isn’t the reality of things at all. Nothing is ever nice and simple. Life always needs to throw a curveball at people; keeping them on their feet, on edge for their entire existence. Techno was no exception from this rule. His life had been plagued by tragedy and hardships. It made him calloused and desensitized towards the world and whatever challenges it had to throw at him. Though nothing could have really prepared him for what came next. Well he actually did, in a way. Similar in reasoning yet very different in the reaction and how the problem was presented to him.

Puffy stood at his door, struggling to hold someone the size of her. They were thrashing around, screeching to be released from their confines. She looked exhausted and beyond worried. There were few words to describe her state. Sadness painted her face like clouds painted the sky; it was evident with every feature of her face, every movement of her brow and reddening eyes. Pants escaped her lips and the struggling wasn’t helping her catch the escaping breaths.

The person Puffy was holding wasn’t any better. They looked malnourished, dirty, panicked, stressed. Those were just the obvious and quick observations. There were probably so many other hidden issues with this person. Honestly, Techno didn’t want to deal with them or Puffy. He was absolutely done dealing with people.

He’d have to get over it though, as Puffy asked him to care for this mystery person. She pleaded so much, saying that if they couldn’t stay with him, they’d be in terrible danger. Techno was her only option in protecting this person. There were some horrible people looking for the person in her arms and she couldn’t protect them on her own. Honestly he was only half listening. He really didn’t want to hear about another person’s sob story and how they so desperately needed his help. How they just couldn’t make it without his help. Occasionally Techno nodded or gave a “mhm” to indicate he was listening. Because that’s the polite thing to do, even if you aren’t listening. It shows you are listening and seems polite. Though he should’ve paid a bit more attention because the next thing he knew a fucking child was getting shoved into his arms.

They were so tiny that they could qualify as a child. So frail, too skinny, hair matted and looked too pale for their natural complexion. Horrified couldn’t even describe how he felt; he did not want to be holding this person, they looked so fragile and could be hurt so easily. Plus they were screaming and crying, still fighting to get out your captor’s grip, which was currently him. Distressed and crying people weren’t the most pleasant to be around especially when you’re a seven foot tall, socially awkward piglin hybrid.

Techno tried to return them to Puffy’s possession. She refused, pushing them further into his hold. She kept insisting that he let them stay with him, at least for a little bit. There was little time to prepare a place for them to stay and they needed the constant protection and some care. Techno kept arguing with Puffy, saying that he really didn’t want, need or have the time to care for them.

It wasn’t long when Puffy finally ended the argument with one phrase; “you still owe me an IOU.”

_______________________________________________

“So is this it,” Techno reluctantly asked, gently bouncing the slumbering stranger. It was and wasn’t surprising how worn out they ended up after the argument. Half-way through the arguing and accommodations, they finally calmed and soon fell asleep. Though they were violently shivering; this conversation couldn’t keep going like this. They both looked at them and looked back at each other.

“Yes. Please,” Puffy whispered, gently putting her hand onto their arm. “Please take care of them for now. You don’t have to care for them long. I just-i just need some time to set them up a place and some help. There were few options to go with and you were the best one.”

Silence settled over them once again. Techno sighed, building his resolve to care for another kid. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

Puffy awarded Techno with one of the most relieved smiles he had ever encountered. She was visibly relaxed, not holding herself up like a puppet who’s tense strings were being tugged. “Now get going Puffy,” Techno ushered. “I can take it from here.”

With that, Puffy started her trek back home, through the unforgiving tundra. As Techno watched her walk away, he wondered how she managed it. How she could carry someone the size of herself for god-knows how long.

He couldn’t ponder long. The person in his arms was still out in the harsh cold and definitely not dressed or prepared for weather like this. A very vulnerable position. With that, he opened the door with his foot and brought the two of you inside.

There weren’t many places to lay someone down. The floor was an option, but it was probably super cold. Techno wasn’t too sure, but he also didn’t want to risk it at the moment. Scanning around reveals a small issue; Techno’s reading chair is the only place to sit that isn’t the damn floor. Crackling fire brought his attention to the welcoming presence of the hearth. So either the floor with the fireplace or the chair which was a decent distance from the fireplace. Was it really a question at that point?

Walking over to the fireplace, Techno tried to disturb the person as little as possible. He started to slowly place them onto the ground. They wouldn’t really notice if they were as exhausted as they looked. When they touched the ground, they stirred and groaned at the change in temperature. Swiftly Techno place them on the floor and held his hands up; a way of saying “okay i’m not touching it so it shouldn’t break now- don’t break”. After a few moments of stillness, Techno deemed himself to be in the “all clear”. With that, he walked off to a different part of the house. He had to start setting up a room for his new guest. And get them food and proper clothing-

A ruckus from the living quarters disturbed him. Oh god what was going on now? Without much thought, he ran to the noise. When he arrived, he frantically looked around. He was looking for anything, but more specifically a danger. But it was much the opposite.

There, at his front door, trying to get out like their life depended on it, was that stranger. Well, it wasn’t a stranger. He couldn’t keep forgetting that. It was ______. Though it was hard to do that; they looked so different. Panic seemed to just possess them; their eyes were wide and bloodshot and their face was even paler than he remembered them in their pale state. Which was an odd statement but it was oddly true. He hadn’t thought that you could get any paler, yet here you are proving him wrong.

You two were in a stare off- trying to figure out what to do. It would be somewhat hilarious if the situation wasn’t so serious; a person trying desperately to get out of someone’s house in some of the most comical positions while a seven foot piglin just awkwardly stared from the other side of the room. The semi-trance was broken by you. Tears started to fall down your face, body started to violently shake, and then you started to try and destroy the door with your body.

Techno was holding you in a heartbeat. Once again, you were dangling and struggling to get out of his grasp. Last time it wasn’t his grasp you were trying to escape, but it was all the same in the end. Your crying soon reverted back to sobbing and screams. Flinching, Techno contemplated just dropping you. Yet he couldn’t; you were trying to escape and that wasn’t a good idea.

Carrying you around the house was a challenge; you were swinging what little weight you could and it was working. He barely got to the other end of the room before he got fed up with your little tantrum. Without a second thought, he just dropped you like a bag of potatoes. The moment you hit the ground, you scrambled to get as far away as possible. That leads you to a corner. You kept an eye of him yet curled up so much. He couldn’t tell if it was because you were cold or scared.

“Please let me go back.”

That catches Techno off guard. It was obviously you voice; he wasn’t talking and you were the only other thing that could talk here. Yet it didn’t sound like you. Your voice was now so gravely, scratchy and heavy. Like you hadn’t properly talked in a while. Though your crying definitely wasn’t helping. Even taking that into consideration, you sound way worse than someone who is just crying and occasionally screaming.

“Excuse me,” he mumbles, staring at you. Waiting for you to answer or proof that he was actually imagining stuff. It could’ve easily been a voice though-

“I said please let me go back,” you sniffled, turning to look at him more. Your eyes held such sadness, besides the tears. The yearning in them hurt. It was obvious you were missing something.

“Go back where,” Techno prodded. He tried his best to make it gentle so you wouldn’t close up again. So he slowly sat on the ground with you, scooting towards you as a pace you could easily stop.

“Back to my friends, obviously,” you stated, keeping a steady and guarded eye on Techno. “I want to go back home. Back to Tommy and Tubbo and Ranboo an-and Purpled.” Suddenly you started to cry much harder. So hard it was practically impossible to speak. Only hiccups and gasps left your lips.

“Let me go, I won’t bother you again.” You kept repeating that phrase. Even rephrasing it, but it was muffled. Well not muffled, but extremely hard to hear through your crying. Techno let you keep saying that in hopes you tire of it, yet it seemed to have the opposite effect. You only started to say it more clearly, louder, and more assertively. It was obvious you were bound and determined to go back to wherever the hell you were before.

“Hey kid,” Techno does his best to stop your babbling. The pleads had just digressed to nonsense, so it was more accurate to call that mess babbling. “I can’t do that.”

His answer wasn’t well received. It only made you sadder and madder; you even deployed the puppy dog eyes. You really wanted this.

“It’s not safe with them,” he reiterated. “You look sickly too. Did you not care for yourself with them?”

Silence consumed you; maybe now you were finally thinking more clearly.

A meek “no” left your lips. Realization seemed to hit you, at least somewhat. It was a step forward, and Techno was taking it wholeheartedly. Anything was progress and he just wanted this over. Some of the voices whispered that they wanted you to get better, but he ignored them.

“Then it’s settled. You’re staying here.”

#tw: yandere #tw: stockholm syndrome #c: techno #techno x reader #technoblade x reader #dsmp!techno #mcyt x reader #mcyt shipping #dsmp shipping #dodo writing #tw: kidnapping #c: puffy #tw: panic attack #dsmp x reader

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