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sincerelyneo · 1 month

Note

omg hello! i missed you so much!!! 💖 would you consider reposting arcade again?? it was legit the best thing i’ve ever read omg i was so sad when i couldnt find it anymore

its fine if you cant tho!! im glad youre backkkk💖💖💖

ofc i can, i’m glad you liked it <3

arcade | p.js

“i’m out of control, full power up”

💿now playing: arcade by nct dream

❯ summary: Jisung’s been nothing but busy lately, so when you hear he got the weekend of your anniversary off, you can’t help but plan something to spend time with him. Expect, the only thing jisung wants after his busy month is you — and he’s not gonna let your silly arcade date get in the way of that.

❯ pairings: jisung x fem!reader

❯ genre: established relationship, smut, fluffish.

❯ words: 3.5k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, fingering, exhibitionism, reader uses she/her pronouns, use of the name baby, jisung takes pictures whilst fingering reader in a photobooth idk???

"You brought us to an arcade for our three year anniversary?"

You look over to Jisung standing by your side as the pair of you stood in front of the arcade entryway with the giant neon sign above your heads.

"Yeah, surprise - who doesn't love a date night with pizza and an arcade?" You grin, trying to hide the look of nervousness fighting to show once you notice his frown.

“Baby,” he groans, whiny, “I thought we were gonna go home after the pizza.”

You may have lied to him about that.

When you told Jisung about tonight’s date, he originally objected. He wanted to have a chilled night in with just the two of you — alone. Something he hadn’t had for the past four weeks he’d been strung up at work. Yet, you insisted that the two of you celebrated your three year anniversary just like you had done for your first and second.

So instead, the two of you came up with a compromise: head to your favourite pizza place, then come home and watch a movie snuggled together on the couch. In Jisung’s mind ‘watch a movie’ was code for letting his hands roam all over your body whilst he watched you whither and squirm, but he figured it was best to not discuss the minute details.

But don’t get him wrong. Just because he wanted to have a quiet night in didn't mean he hasn’t missed you — because oh he has. He’s only bothered the rest of the dreamies with his annual ‘I miss her’ speech every other hour.

And whilst typically Jisung loved to spend every passing minute of the day with you; right now, all he could think about was how much he wanted to be balls deep in the cunt he’d missed so much — not spending his time in some arcade.

"I haven't been inside one of these since I was a little kid," you tell him. “Please Sungie, just for an hour.” You begin tugging on his hands.

“I don’t know, Y/N. Aren’t we a bit too old to be playing in the arcade?” he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Pretty please!”

You hope the small flutter in your eyelashes is enough to win over the hesitant man. And you know it will because he’s told you several times not to give him those signature doe eyes, because he can’t ever bring himself to say no to them.

"Fine."

He grasps your hand, threading your fingers together as he starts to lead the two of you inside. You're instantly greeted with the loud electronic sound effects from the various games, along with the random music playing inside.

There's lights flashing everywhere, and you notice a bunch of people sitting at the bar and in booths near the front of the arcade, along with a bunch wandering around all of the games.

Jisung looks sideways before gesturing his head to the row of retro games, "what do you wanna play?" He asks.

“You can pick first, because I’m such a good girlfriend.”

He can’t help but smile at you — because he knows you're right.

“How about we play some pinball?

"I take it back," you say with a pointed look, "I’ve seen you play that with Chenle and I’m definitely gonna lose.”

“Too late, you’ve already given me the power,” he shrugs and pulls your arm over to where the game is situated.

“Ugh, Jisung. There’s no point, I already know I’m gonna lose,” you try to protest.

“Stop complaining,” he grasps your hips to turn you around to face the pinball machine then comes to stand behind you.

He takes your hands and places them on the buttons either side of the machine in front of you. You feel your cheeks flush when you feel Jisung’s chin rest on your shoulder, as he guides your fingers over the controls and silently coaches you through the game.

You don’t know how he always does it but even here, he's managing to create some form of sexual tension between the two of you at a pinball machine.

“Jisung..” you whisper as he places teasing kisses along your neck.

“Shhh, I’m just trying to help you out,” his lips brush against your neck as he continues hitting the buttons at a constant steady speed. “Besides, I think I’ve found my new favourite way to play pinball tonight."

Eventually, the ball shoots straight down between the two flippers, drawing the game to an end. He’d been doing so well that you wanted to turn around and kiss him but he pressed you harder against the machine, dipping into the crook of your neck to tease your ear.

"You've got no idea how badly I wish I could bend you over this and fuck you right here, right now."

It sent shivers down your whole body as you felt him grin against your skin when he noticed the sharp inhale of air you sucked in at his words.

Jisung knows you're shy, so he’s not surprised that you try to snake away from his grip at his crude remark.

"Look, we got a new high score," he says while he slips his hands from over yours and slides them up your arms. Pretending he didn't just whisper something that dirty. “We make a pretty good team.”

“Yeah ‘cause you did all the work,” you sulk.

You see the red digital writing flashing on the scoreboard, then his arms snake around to link across your lower stomach and pull you firmer against him. To anyone watching you look like a typical couple being affectionate, but the tension makes it feel the furthest thing from innocent.

"You know exactly what you're doing right now, Jisung Park," you huff, trying to control how flustered you feel, "We’re here to play games."

He presses a kiss to your cheek, before murmuring, "I am playing games. And so far I think I'm winning."

As he speaks he lets one of his hands slip down to graze over the front of your crotch, which he swears is an accident when you sternly say his name. But you can’t deny the way the touch made you jolt before he pulls away and steps back. You’d missed his touch — missed being with him like this.

But this was not the place. So you take his hand and turn the two of you to walk off like nothing happened.

The two of you continued to play a handful of arcade games. The classics, retro games, new games — Jisung had even managed to secure you a fluffy teddy bear from the claw game after you mentioned it being ‘impossible’.

You’d been taking it in turns to choose a game each, but when you mentioned the arcade photo booth, your boyfriend had started to get apprehensive.

After some of your amazing buttering up skills with puppy dog eyes, he agreed and he pulled the curtain back for you to get inside, then closes the door on the booth.

He sat down first on the small seat, and when you went to sit next to him he grabbed your waist and pulled you down onto his lap instead. He takes some coins from his pocket and starts putting them in the slot.

You try to get off his lap to sit beside him before the timer starts but he doesn’t let you.

“Just look at the camera and smile."

Once you hear the timer counting down the two of you start posing. But just before the last beep sounds, you get the idea to grab hold of Jisung’s face and let your lips mush against his cheek causing him to scrunch his nose up.

"That’s not fair," he says the second he hears the beeping start again.You stick your tongue out at him and his eyes narrow. “Fine, if that’s the game we’re playing.”

You both look back at the camera and offer smiles, kisses and peace signs. But at the last beep, Jisung gets the idea to move both of his hands to cup over your chest, groping your boobs.

Your mouth falls open as you gasp in shock while Jisung starts laughing.

You try to pull his hands away, "Okay fine, point taken mister grabby hands."

Jisung is practically giggling to himself, whilst you wait for the timer to start again.

“Alright alright, we'll take a serious one now.” He says, placing his chin on your shoulder, as you both look at the camera.

But once again, as the third beeping starts he quickly says, “Do you think people would notice if I made you cum while we're in here?"

Your body stiffens in shock as the picture is taken. Jisung is bursting with laughter and you're taken aback.

Jisung likes sex. He loves sex in fact — especially with you. But he never does this. Sure he teases you when you're out and about — how could he not when you’re so beautiful and perfect for him. But he’s never insinuated doing something so sexual in public like this before.

But here the two of you are. Waiting for the timer to start again, but this time you’re anticipating the shit he was going to pull when the final beep comes — and he does not disappoint. Because his hands slide up your legs, dipping into your inner thighs and squeezing them.

"Jisung," you warn him, "behave yourself."

The beeping starts again, but Jisung doesn't move his hands, and starts to massage his fingers higher.

When the last tick happens, he moves his face to press a kiss to your jaw, and you feel his breath hitting your skin from his nose.

He starts to inch your legs a bit further apart to let his thumbs graze over the crease where your thighs meet your pelvis.

“Ive missed you so fucking much baby,” he whines. “I need you so bad.”

“Jisung not here,” you sigh as his hands start working to warm up your skin.

“Why not? Wouldn’t you like the thought of me getting you off in here? Trying not to get caught?"

If his face wasn't so close to yours you wouldn't be able to hear him over the loud music in the arcade and how low his voice has gotten.

You give him a confused frown, thinking he surely can't be fucking serious but when you do he takes the opportunity to press his lips against you, kissing you while the camera snaps the last picture.

Your stomach is knotting along with your heart beating faster and you feel that familiar heat between your legs but you’d never tell him that — and he’d never tell you that he knows you keep it from him.

"Would you?" He asks again when he breaks the kiss.

You look at him like he's lost his mind. "You're joking right?" You can't be serious - Jisung people get their pictures taken in here, someone could walk in, you can't-"

He makes your words stop and your breath hitch in your throat as he moves his hand up under your skirt and cups his hand between your legs.

"That's not what I asked you," he says letting his eyes trace over your face, then leans closer, "Would you enjoy it?"

“Jisung, this is so unlike you, are you even hearing what you’re asking me?”

He moves his leg a bit and wedges his heel against the edge of the door so it can't be pulled open, "I know exactly what I’m asking you, so answer me."

"We’re supposed to be taking pictures, Sung,” you try changing the subject, and ignore the pressure of his hand pressed against you.

"Oh god we will," he says like it should be obvious.

And now you’re looking even more caught off guard.

“I'd fucking kill to have some pictures of you getting off. Have them to look at them whenever I’m needy and miss you.”

Jisung starts to massage the heel of his palm very slowly against you, adding more pressure over your underwear as you try to squeeze your legs closed but he holds them with his other hand to keep them apart.

"We can't-" it takes very fibre in your body to attempt to protest this, but you easily allow him to cut you off.

"Yes we fucking can," he has that sly look on his face, "But if you don't want to, we won't. It's up to you. Should I stop?"

You exhale a weak breath as he replaces the heel of his palm with his fingers dancing over your underwear, massaging slow circles that make your hips shift.

"Won’t people think it's weird if we're in here too long." you fumble over your words which makes Jisung smile while he bites on his lip.

"Don't worry I'll be quick," he says knowing you’re only making excuses instead of admitting what you really want.

Your eyes drift closed as you sigh, feeling his fingers move against you to create a friction that's only making the throb between your legs worsen. You have absolutely no common sense when it comes to this man and his fucking fingers.

"Should I stop?" He repeats in a low voice, moving his mouth to start to kiss along your jaw.

As usual with him, your functioning brain checks out while your subconscious takes over and you shake your head feeling your breathing start to go shallow.

"You want me to make you cum, yeah? Is that right baby?" His words are slightly muffled as he moves his free hand from your inner thigh and brushes your hair back over your shoulder so he can move his mouth to your neck, "I need words baby."

You should be rational and tell him to stop. But you don't. You wouldn’t dare. You didn’t want him to. So instead you say what you do want, and breathe out a quiet "yes."

Jisung’s own breathing is getting heavier, and the tension in this small enclosed space feels like it's compressing both of you closer together. When he hears your approval, his hand between your legs bunches up the front of your skirt. When he slips it up he snakes his hand over your stomach to push down into your underwear.

A faint groan echoes in Jisung’s throat the second his fingers feel your bare skin, exploring around your underwear to feel the slickness there.

"You’ve made a mess. Missed me this much, huh?” his voice is low, while he drags his warm lips up your neck.

You only manage to nod your head, your brain focused on squirming your hips to find some kind of friction again. He finally rests the pads of his fingers against your throbbing clit, starting to tease circles that force a quiet whimper out of you. Your eyes are still closed as excitement and neediness flood your nerves.

For doing something that should be wrong, it feels so damn right, and it's all you can think of. Feeling him is all you can think about.

"You sure I can take some pictures?" He checks, keeping his movements steady as your hips start to circle against his hand,

You don't respond at first—you can’t—too caught up in how this is feeling, and when he dips his fingers down to your pussy to collect more arousal on his fingers before moving back to your clit and applying more pressure, your head falls forward as you pant out a strained, "You - fuck, yes, you can."

He chuckles hearing how fucked out you are for him, and he’s only just started. But it’s when you hold onto the thigh he’s been using to pry your legs open that his eyes darken with need.

He keeps his fingers moving while he manages to get some coins he had in his pocket, reaching forward to put them into the coin slot, then pressing the button to start the timer.

When he relaxes back he applies a firmer pressure, and starts to massage your clit in quicker circles; making your mouth drop open with a gasped moan. You can barely hear the beep for the picture anymore, everything around you turning blurry, and all you can hear is your heart beat mixed your heavy breathing.

"That's it baby," he coos, with a gravel to his voice from the tension in it, "God I wish I could fuck you right now. I’ve been dying for it.”

Your skin is burning up, and all you can manage in response is the pants from your open mouth, desperately trying to keep yourself quiet.

You start to grind yourself against him as his fingers work, and feel the hard bulge forming in his pants underneath your ass.

He wasn't kidding when he said he'd be quick, he's already building the pressure in your lower belly, making your stomach muscles tighten, while he moves his fingers in the exact way he knows you love it.

That knot in your lower half tightens, and your legs start to tremble as a louder moan you can't stop comes out of your mouth.

"Fuck—Jisung," you whimper, with your chest starting to heave with rapid uneven breaths.

He only quickens his fingers driving with determination and speed, making sure to keep repeating the same movements that are getting the best reactions from you and when your head falls back as you moan again; his free hand comes up to cover your mouth.

"Shhhh—quiet, remember?" He hushes against your ear, groaning at the feeling of you grinding against him, "I know you wanna cum baby, but there’s no way I’m letting anyone else hear how you sound for me.”

All you can manage is a muffled "mhm" against his hand as your eyes squeeze tighter. That familiar sensation starts to ripple from your centre down your legs and into the rest of your limbs.

The orgasm is speeding towards you, faster than anticipated causing your back to arch up as your hips writhe. Your mind is foggy only able to make out quiet whispers of encouragement coming from Jisung.

As the release ripples through your body and your moans are muted against his hand, Jisung groans again, feeling you shake on top of him. He can’t help but snap his hand away to grasp at your jaw to turn your face and kiss you hard while you ride through your climax.

The kiss is mostly open lips grazing against each other, or trying to connect in messy motions with both of your laboured breathing mixing together. His fingers only pause when you try to pull yourself away from them.

Once your eyes drift open to see Jisung’s, the look in them makes you want to squeeze your legs together again if you could move them currently.

Jisung brings his hand up, and grazes his pointer and middle finger he just used to send your body into a frenzy against your lower lip as a silent request for you to open your mouth. You don’t deny it, taking them into your mouth to taste yourself.

“Fucking hell,” his eyes dart back and forth from your eyes to your mouth. His head rolls back against the wall behind you and he whines in the quiet, "God fucking help me."

Your body is still buzzing, floating down dazed from the high it was on, and you watch Jisung bite down on his lower lip as his brows knit tight together, as his hips shift beneath you.

"Everything okay, Sungie?" It’s the only thing your mushed brain can think of saying as you look down at his strained pants.

"Fuck no," he mumbles, looking like he's trying to compose himself, "But it’s my own fault. I suggested we do this. I’ll deal with myself later.”

"Later?" You ask.

Jisung lifts his head back up, leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek as he rubs his palm up and down your thigh, "Yeah, later. When we get home and we watch that movie you promised me.”

He thinks you don’t know that he uses the movie thing as a code to fuck you — but you do know — and that’s why you’ve never protested when he puts on another one of those Harry Potter movies he loves.

"You sure you'll be able to wait that long?"

Jisung’s lips lift up at the corners, "I’ve waited weeks for this, I’m sure I can manage a couple more hours.”

He hugs you against him with his arms around your stomach, and back against his firm chest.

"But then again,” he begins “Now I have the memory of how fucking hot watching you get off in here was. That makes waiting like some kind of sick torture to me."

You let out a weak laugh, feeling your cheeks flush more than they already were, "I still can't believe we just did this."

"I can, and there's pictures to prove it," he smiles, pulling the strip of three black and white photos from the dispenser.

#nct smut #park jisung smut #jisung smut #nct dream smut #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #park jisung x reader #jisung x reader #nct hard hours #kpop smut #nct scenarios #park jisung scenarios #nct imagines

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freakingholland · 2 months

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"Cold cloths, warm hugs" Jason Todd x gn!reader

A/N: My first ever Jason x reader fic whaaat! I have such a soft spot for this guy ugh <3 also this is so fluffy and silly, I'll see myself out!

Warnings: not proofread, swear words, Jason is feeling unwell so a mention of headaches? use of painkillers

Summary: You and Jay have a night off, what could possibly go wrong? (fluff, hurt/comfort-ish)

Word count: 850 +

If you enjoyed my work: Ko-fi.com/freakingholland

questions/requests/ideas here! - rules here

masterlist (needs a proper update)

You were in the middle of watching some kind of lighthearted show on your night off. Jason had a night off as well, the two of you had been sitting on a couch and simply enjoying each other’s presence. Jason had been reading a book curled up next to your tucked figure, as your back was leaning against the opposite arm of the couch. Unexpectedly his reading session got disturbed. At least you thought so since he had gotten up from the couch, tossed his reading glasses aside on the coffee table and went to the kitchen without a word. At least 5 minutes had passed, and he didn’t return.

“Hey- you alright in there?”

“-Yup, just a sec.”

He didn’t sound very convincing. His response seemed wavering, and it was enough to make you a bit wary. As you didn’t want to possibly annoy him with your raised voice, not knowing the problem yet, instead of shouting from the sofa, you went to check on him.

His head was hanging low as he was standing with his hands resting on the counter. There was an unscrewed bottle of painkillers and a now empty, wet glass. You went behind him and put your hand on the small of his back.

“What’s going on baby?” Your heart ached at the sight.

“--Headache.” He whispered through gritted teeth. His tone made you uptight.

“I- I- gotta lie down.”

“-can you get me a cold-- towel? Please…” He spoke quietly while turning to go to your bedroom. Your hand dropped to your side.

“Course. You’re nauseous?”

He slightly leaned on the doorframe before going further away from you. He shut his eyes as the light hit his face when leaving the kitchen.

“Yeah…”

He then faltered to rest up.

“Shit.” You cursed under your breath putting your head in your hand when he left.

You were hoping that you’d have a calm evening for once, you deserved to have it. It’s been a while since something bothered Jay to that degree, whether it was a patrol injury or sickness, and the fact that he was hurting on his day off made you genuinely irritated.

On the positive side – at least he didn’t try to hide the fact that he was feeling unwell. He also asked for some help without much frustration. It took months to get to this point, but encouraging Jay to open up and communicate more has been paying off. Grief-stricken conversations still happen every so often. Hell, it would be beyond belief if they weren’t happening considering the extent of past trauma that Jason has suffered through.

But his mental health really did improve over the months of you two dating.

You put on the kettle to make him a nice warm cup of tea. With the help of a stool, you managed to find his old but beloved wonder woman mug. It took some digging in your cabinet that really needed a proper cleanup. When the tea had been made you moved on to rummage through your closet to find a cloth for a cold compress. Placing three cubes of ice in between the layers was enough to make the cloth cold.

“Babe did you drink cof—“ you stopped halfway through your whispered question when you were walking into your shared bedroom.

You suddenly stopped in your tracks realizing your possible mistake. Jay was already dosing off, curled under a blanket. His lips were slightly parted. There was a noticeable change in his posture, there was less tension within his upper body, his arms seemed more relaxed than before. You didn’t think he would be falling asleep this fast, but you figured the headache must have been bad and that the painkillers actually started to kick in.

The sight made you sigh as you you’ve been unnoticeably holding in your breath. You tiptoed to his bed side table and put down his mug of steaming tea. You then carefully kneeled down next to the bed in order to place a compress on his forehead without startling him too much. You gently pressed it onto his skin, making sure to place it slightly over his eyelids.

“That feels so nice.” He muttered.

“Shhh ignore me and go to sleep.”

“I don’t wanna ignore you--, come here.”

You stood up and walked around the bed. Before joining Jay, you opened the window to let some fresh air into the room.

“Baby please…”

“’Kay ‘kay I’m coming.”

You carefully crawled under his blanket and big spooned him.

“You know what? I can already feel the headache going away just cause you’re hugging me.” He continued verbilising his loopy thoughts.

“Oh yeah? It must be some kind of magic.”

“Yeah, it’s Y/N’s magic.”

“Just don’t tell on me. Peeps might burn me at the stake.”

“Fuuuuuuck no I wouldn’t let them.”

“Oh, I know you wouldn’t big guy. ” you said running your hand through his hair.

Jay rolled to his side to embrace you in a hug. He nuzzled his face into your chest and sighed with relief.

“JACE that’s cold! Stop it!” you winced and laughed as the compress touched your warm skin.

“It wouldn’t feel so cold if you weren’t so hot.”

“I think we gotta check your temperature…”

Stay whelmed xx Tori

#Jason Todd x reader #red hood #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine #dc comics #jason todd fluff #red hood fluff #dc imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x gender neutral reader #dc x reader #dc x you

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ozzgin · 3 months

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Heyyy just checked your masterlist and saw that despite you being into obey me! fandom, you don't have a fic. I'm married to Solomon in my mind so how about a situation where the reader (fem or gn your pick) is equally in love with this old man and begs him to recreate that time potion which made him immortal. Oh? Did i mention i want him to be a yandere? Please do that as well ^^

I love me my morally grey wizard ;)

I have 3 unfinished drafts for Diavolo, Barbatos and Satan on my Wattpad, but it was around the time I started getting Baki related requests here so I haven’t had the time to continue them. This goes for everyone reading, if you see a fandom title with no works you can always request something! :) This blog is only a few months old and I wasn’t writing much before (twice or thrice a year if I was generously inspired), so the variety is rather limited still. (I also finish requests at the pace of a snail, sorry about that)

Yandere! Solomon x Reader Headcanons

Featuring your fellow human classmate and now soon-to-be husband who couldn’t be happier about your wish to spend an eternity with him.

Content: gender neutral reader, obsessive behavior

It started rather subtle. Just idle curiosity at first, a mere feigned surprise that was quickly swept aside for more important matters. Sure, Diavolo bringing another fellow human to the Devildom, especially one without any powers, was at least mildly intriguing. Your situation was as tempting as a puzzle to fiddle with in between tasks. Beyond polite offers to help you handle the new challenging environment, Solomon was not planning on prying further. Then the surprises begun to queue one after another. To think that you had barely learned your way around and somehow still forged a contract with one of the devilish siblings. Then another. And another. Fascination crept its way in and the greatest sorcerer found himself begging to learn more about the mysterious (Y/N).

Naturally such fascination should’ve had an intellectual grounding and nothing more. What is it about you that has caused such a ruckus across RAD? All he needed was an answer. Yet he discovered much too late how embarrassingly involved he’d become. Childishly clutching his D.D.D. in the middle of the night, wondering if you’ve already fallen asleep, and grinning when the screen lit up with a response from you. Cancelling all plans the instant you’d ask - casually - if he wanted to join you after class to check out a new café. No, of course he had nothing else to do. Yes, it’s definitely a lucky coincidence that he’s always available when you want to hang out with him.

Once he accepted he was madly in love with you, he began fretting over all possible obstacles. The demon brothers, life after RAD. He’d never engaged much with other humans and his charisma only covered superficial pleasantries. How was he to properly convey that he’s - mildly put - obsessed with you to the point where rejection won’t be taken lightly? Uh oh. Closer to a threat than a confession. Thankfully the Heavens were gracious and you immediately returned his affections. No need for potions or hexes (not that he would’ve…he had them prepared just in case). He remembers it to this day, years after, the wide, innocent smile that you so generously bestowed upon him. Almost like a premonition, he knew you’d be the person to marry. Something he never considered in his long, lonely life.

You lazily lift your hand and admire the ring again. Solomon is quite clumsy and forgetful, but he goes all out for the things that matter. The proposal had been planned to a dizzying amount of detail and you couldn’t believe how much thought he put into it, with many aspects you otherwise assumed he’d forget or omit. Yet staring at the intricately carved band adorning your finger now, you can’t help the pang of melancholy blooming in your chest. Solomon lifts his gaze from the book he’s reading, sensing your discomfort. “Something bothering you?” He inquires with a hint of worry in his voice. “What happens after the wedding?” You demand, turning to face him. “Oh my. I personally prefer to focus on the present.” He answers with a chuckle. “Sure, because you don’t have to worry about your future. It’s mine that will end at some point.” His eyes widen and his hands are suddenly cold. He’s been so entranced by your company that he didn’t even entertain the idea of a potential end to it. He almost strokes his cheek to soothe the hard slap of your words, leaving him in a frightened stupor.

Oh no. No, no, no. Within the blink of an eye he finds himself standing before the alchemy shelves, rattling the bottles for the right ingredients. You didn’t even need to mutter a word. He knew exactly what you’re thinking of. How shameful of him to have caused you this distress in the first place. You’re young, and time for him has lost its human meaning, so your mortality hadn’t crossed his mind this entire time. He would’ve found a solution for it later, most certainly, but he didn’t expect this postponement to make you so anxious. His lips are quivering and his slender fingers are visibly trembling. Partly from the fear of almost failing you as your future husband, partly from the excitement of what’s about to come. He always imagined there’d be nothing more beautiful and precious to witness than you in your wedding attire as you tie the knot. But now? Oh, how ravishingly tempting and seducing, the fact that he can listen to the mundanely repeated words of “Til death do us part” and stare down its meaning until there’s nothing left of it. Not quite. Not for you two. The veil will be lifted and your face will radiate eternity.

After all, nothing will stand between him and his fated soulmate. What’s death to a wizard of his caliber?

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #yandere obey me #solomon x reader #obey me solomon #solomon x mc #yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader

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ysrjune · 27 days

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Tell Me What You Want

pairing - scott monroe, sam monroe 🍒

summary - sam and scott are twins, both have a crush on you.

The day started with you waking up at 9am on weekend. Its summer, your favorite time of year because your parents always go for a vacation the whole 3 months, leaving you all alone since you're old enough to take care of yourself.. kinda. Your older brother is there, too, but most of the time he's hanging out with Sam Monroe. You lay in your bed for a while more, thinking about anything you want to do today. Maybe visit the old woman next door to help her out? Go shopping? Walk around? You thought of so many possible things except for visiting Scott, your next door neighbor. You two have been friends for so long, but you still get shy about knocking on the Monroe's door even though they made it very sure that they're there for you to come to anytime. You think about it for a while before making up your mind and bring yourself to do it.

Now that you've made up your mind, you decide to make yourself some breakfast. Going down the stairs, you're greeted by your annoying big brother. “You're up early,” He says while eating a piece of toast with nutella spread over it. “I'm always up this early. You're just never here to witness it cause you're always free-loading at Sam's house.” You replied on your way to the kitchen which he so happened to follow you to. “It's not free-loading if his parents dont mind me over.” He shrugged, taking another bite of his toast. “Plus, I'm not always there. Sometimes I bring Sam over instead.”

“Yeah, and he's the only person you bring over. Could consider him as your little boyfriend or something.” You insulted him while giggling and opening the fridge to get the orange juice. “Oh, you wanna talk about boyfriends? How about Scott, he has like a huge crush on you, and you definitely like him back. ‘S not hard to notice all that tension going on between you two.” He shot right back, making a fair point..

You closed the fridge door, blushing and walked over to one of the cabinets that hold the cups. “I don't know what you're talking about, Chris.” You replied to your brother who laughed and left right after, leaving you alone to go to his room. Of course you really knew what he was talking about. Scott himself confessed his feelings to you a while back and seemed pretty chill when you told him you weren't ready for a relationship. “Well, as long as we can still be friends, I'm okay with that.” He told you softly with a little smirk tugging his lip. Oh, that smirk of his. It was so cute. Let's be real, you liked him back, but the real reason you held yourself back is because you kinda liked Sam, too, even though he didn't talk to you much. When he did talk to you, he was pretty nice. Usually calling you by the nickname “princess.” Jeez he made you so wet with just that. Scott had his own name, too. It was “Angel.” That one made you feel things too.

Let's not even talk about the time you made out with Scott once and he said “You're so pretty, Angel.” Against your lips before going in for another kiss. He would wonder why you even made out with him that night and then say you don't wanna date him. It hurt his feelings. He felt a little used, but it was kinda his fault for starting the whole moment. Either way—you two stayed friends and that's what mattered to him.

You had waffles with orange juice for your breakfast. After you finished, you went back into your room and decided to take a shower before getting yourself all pretty. Sure, you basically rejected Scott, but you still wanted to look pretty for him. It was weird but you didn't think much of it. An hour passed by while you showered, and once you were finished and opened the curtain there was a bunch of steam around the bathroom and covering your mirror. Oops.

You put on a cute outfit, do your hair, skin care, and however much makeup you thought was appropriate for today. It was 12 by the time you finished, so you headed next door, knocking on the door. Sam answered it since he thought it was Chris, but it was you. God, Sam looked so good right now. He was hot with his eyeliner, sure, but seeing him without it was probably even better. His pretty blue eyes were more noticeable without the eye makeup taking away the attention. His messy, dyed hair was so cute and the way his pjs clung onto his hips was so.. ohmy

“Hey, princess. What're you doin’ here so early? Thought you were Chris.” He speaks to you. “Um, I came to visit Scott.” You answer him after checking him out for a split second. Sam chuckled at that. “What about me? Not even gonna say hi?” He complained playfully. “Hi, Sammy.” You reply with a chuckle and a friendly hug which he returns.

“Hi,” He gave a half smile and let you come in. “Scotty’s in his room. Caught him at a good time, too. He just finished cleaning his room and showering.” He says while leading you upstairs to his brother. You smile at what Sam said and continue the conversation until you reach Scott’s door. “See you later, Sammy.” You tell him and open the door. Sam nods his head and stays there until you close the door after you disappeared into it.

“Lucky bastard.” He mumbled, getting a little jealous that you chose Scott over him. But that's his own fault. It's not like he talks to you enough to really hangout.

Scott looked over to you after you entered. “What’re you doing here?” He asked with a small smile tugging at his lips. No nickname? What the fuck? You thought. It'd be too good a day if you had that interaction with Sam and Scott calling you by “Angel” not even 5 seconds into seeing him. “Was bored. Wanted to see you today.” You explain, walking over to his nicely done bed and sitting on it. “Aw, Angel. That's sweet. Missed me?” Nevermind, there's that nickname! Hallelujah!

“You can put it that way, I guess.” You rolled your eyes playfully and he swoops in for a tight hug. You didn't stop him, though. His hugs were always so comforting. “Missed you too.” It made sense since you went to different schools. “So what do you wanna do?” He asked, letting you go. “Wanna go for a walk?” You suggest. He agreed and yay! you guys went. You walked the neighborhood at first, laughing and telling each other about stuff going on at school, but then you wandered off and started walking around other neighborhoods as well.

Returning to his house around 2, you both went back to his room where your conversations continued. “Yeah, and so she's pregnant now and he wants nothing to do with her, I guess.” Scott shrugged, telling you about one of his bestfriends’ scandalous life. “And that's all you have to say?! ‘I guess’” You mocked his tone. “Well, it sucks, but, like, s’not my problem..” He responded, picking at his fingers.

“So if I wind up p-”“That's different.” He cut you off, quickly. He seemed a little mad, too. “That's my best friend's girlfriend. I don't talk to her. You're my best friend who lives next door and who I've known for years. If some guy knocked you up and tried to leave you, I'd kick his ass.” He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

Him cutting you off to say all that was real sweet but kinda intimidating since his whole demeanor changed so quickly. “Oh, okay..” you replied, not knowing what else to say. It stayed quiet for a few minutes before Sam opened the door. “Dad wants everyone outside, he's making barbecue.” He said and left right away like he always did. You looked over to Scott. He still looked really mad. Why, though? You thought. It was just a dumb question. But you didn't wanna bother him, you already knew how he got when you tried to talk to him while he's mad.

When you closed the door behind you, he groaned and rubbed his eyes. The thought of you with someone else really set him off. So, you can probably imagine how mad he is now that you put the thought of you getting pregnant by some loser in his head.While he was in his room, Sam, Chris, Mr. & Mrs. Monroe kept you company. Robin, Sam's mom was distracting you while the 3 other boys talked about whatever. Suddenly, Scott came down, still looking a little mad but not as bad as earlier. He joined in on the conversation with you and his mom, occasionally switching to the other guys.

An hour and a half passed by, and the food was done. Everyone chatted with each other. Sam even spoke to you a couple of times! Poor you, fantasizing about him when he wouldn't speak to you. Your eyes were on his fingers for a few seconds, and were cautious to not stare for so long because you did not need anyone noticing that. Scott finally came around and had a conversation with you about random things Everyone finished eating, so the twins’ parents cleaned up and sent everyone off to inside the house. Sam and your brother go to his room, you and Scott go to his. He closed the door behind you two and sighed. “Angel, ‘m sorry about earlier.” He started off softly while you lay on his bed, listening. “Just got a little mad.. and kinda jealous, I guess.” Ugh, there was that thing he always says that always bothered you. “I guess” make up your mind! but you stayed quiet.

“Look, I understand that we're just friends, but you have to understand I still have feelings for you. And when you put stuff like that into my head—like, about getting pregnant by some guy and then he leaves you, it just pisses me off.” He explained how he felt earlier while walking towards you to sit next to you. “You just.. you don't deserve that, Angel. You deserve a guy that'll never ever do you like that.” He sighed.Him explaining this to you made you feel warm inside. Wow. This guy really does like you. He's so sweet.. and you rejected him?! girl! you're so stupid!You hold his hand, looking at his pretty face. “Scotty, I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd take it so seriously. Won't do it again, I promise.” He looked at you, with those cute doe eyes of his. “Thanks,” He mumbled, looking at your conjoined hands.

“You're really sweet, Scott. Seriously.” You continue, standing up and settling yourself to stand in between his legs. This action makes him look down to his legs that separated when you stood between them—and to be completely honest, it kinda turned him on. “Oh—um..” He blushed, settling his hands down on the sheets, not knowing what to do with them since he didn't wanna make you uncomfortable. “It's nothing if you really think about it..” He looked away. You did something real bold. You grabbed his face, making him face you. This made him blush even worse.. and harder.“Scott, seriously. Not many guys would say that.” You replied to his shy demeanor, coming closer to his face. This made him a little nervous. Scared, even. He was thinking that you were just teasing him.“Angel, stop.. let me go if you're not gonna do anything else. Don't get my hopes up.” He swallowed. This makes you smirk, now knowing how much power you really have over him. How weak in the knees you make him. “Anything else? Like what?”

“Y/n.”

You chuckle at his state of nervousness. “No, I'm not playin’ with you, pretty.” You say and lean in more to kiss his neck softly. Scott jolted a little at this, but didnt stop you. “Fuck, angel..” He mumbled with his hand sliding up your back. You sucked on his smooth neck, making sure to leave a dark hickey. Well, you ended up leaving a couple before moving to his lips and making out with him. Just like last time.

His hand moved down to your ass, pushing you on top of him. He took control of the kiss, making you really wet. He made it slow and sensual.. really passionate and romantic. Letting out a couple of soft moans while kissing you which turned you on. You never heard him make any noise before. Not even the last time you made out. He was so hard by now. He was so horny.

So bad that he started rubbing his bulge up into you. It made your pussy throb. Jeez, you never imagined how hot Scott is when he's horny.. He had to break the kiss a couple times just to let out those pretty moans. He even whimpered. Just once, but it was so hot. Most of the noises he made were moans and groans.

To tease him, you rolled your hips deliciously onto him, earning another moan. “Angel, stop.. My door isn't locked. What someone walks in..” He softly whined.“No one's gonna walk in.” You told him, hoping he'd believe you. “Please, baby..” oh. my. god. that really sets you off. your pussy was even wetter now that he was practically begging for you to stop. but you didn't want to, so you stayed quiet. He seemed to forget all about the open door when you didn't respond for the next couple of minutes.

“Fuck, angel. Keep doin’ that and i'm gonna cum in my boxers..” he said in that whiny tone of his. It sounded even better when he was close. He knew he was hopelessly in love with you when you stopped to tease him.

“Gotta jerk yourself off to cum, then, I guess.” You tell him, and he groans. That somehow was really attractive to him. He didnt even know he was into orgasm denial. You got off of him and kissed his cheek.

“Where are you going?” He asked, still sounding super whiny. You look at his boner that showed through his jeans, then back up to his eyes. “Home,” You replied like you had just done nothing. “Wh—??” He didnt even finish the whole word because he was so confused. And with that, you left for your house.

When his door closed, he lay on his elbows and threw his head back, groaning. He still wanted to cum so bad.. so he got up from his position to lock his door and close the blinds on his window, along with the light. He went to his bathroom to brush his teeth and change into some blue and black checkered pjs that hung off his hips, just like Sams’ would. He wore no shirt since he was just so eager to rub one out right now.

He lay in his bed and took his still erect cock, twitching at just the slightest touch to the base. He then got an idea. He reached for his phone, opening up the camera to hit record after turning the flash on. He recorded himself masturbating, pretending it was you jerking him off and fucking him. The video was 4 and a half minutes long, filled with pathetic, soft whimpers and moans.. you could hear the wet noises. Once he came, he stopped recording and lay the phone on his chest, away from the sticky mess left on his abdomen. It took him a couple minutes to pull himself back together, but once he did, he unlocked his phone and sent you the video. Then he put his phone on to not disturb after that, scared of the risk he just took. He cleaned himself after that and went to sleep.

ping! “Scotty” sent 1 attachment.

You open the video and the first thing you saw was his dick. You've never seen his dick before, but if you were being honest with yourself.. it was definitely the prettiest one you've ever seen. It looked about 6 inches in his jeans, but damn. Was he really big when he was hard? A whole 7 inches. You watch for 4 seconds before you hear a whimper and feel yourself blush, looking for your headphones and connecting them, hearing his cute noises and the wet sounds his fist made when it hit the base of his cock.

Yeah, this is definitely something you're keeping for when you masturbate. His whimpers and moans were just too cute not to pleasure yourself to!

You react to his message with a heart and send him a photo of your tits. Not without your bra, though. Lets see what he responds with in the morning.

YAYYAYA DONE! PLS LMK UR THOUGHTS ON THIS AND LMK IF YOU WANNA START BEING TAGGED IN THIS FIC 🍒💞

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delicateflowerss · 8 months

Text

Don't Worry, Darling: Nine

After marrying the love of your life, Rafe Cameron, you thought you couldn't be happier. But when a murder shakes the island, you learn you don't know your husband as well as you thought. When does Paradise become Hell?

Warnings: 18+, mentions of past NON-CON, forced pregnancy, mentions of murder, mentions of drugging, violence, blood, dark!Rafe, kook!reader, non-canon ages

we are finally at the end, i can't believe it! thank you for reading and sticking with this series. please enjoy the final chapter <3

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 4k

The sound of your daughter’s cries barely registers with you. It’s more so the tugging of your dress to get your attention. You would think it’s something a child would do, but it’s only your husband.

“I think she wants you,” is all he says as he hands her to you.

You’re surprised Rafe wanted to hold her at all, especially at an event like this. But you realize it’s his way of showing how good of a father he is.

At least, that’s how he wants to present to the world.

You try to soothe her cries but when nothing works, you end up apologizing to your friends and finding a quieter place inside.

Your daughter is only a few months old, but Rafe really wanted to go to Topper and Audrey’s end of summer barbeque.

You tried to think like him, that your daughter could handle it. That you could handle it.

But as you stare at her wailing face, the only thing that comes to mind is how you wish you could cry like that.

It’s all over the news. You can’t even look at your phone without seeing a text from someone, shocked that Rafe has been arrested, that he’s been accused of murder.

So you stopped looking at your phone.

You barely got a wink of sleep last night and you’ve been cleaning since you gave up on getting any more rest.

But even when you think you’re occupying your mind, it’s busying itself elsewhere. You can’t get rid of this sinking feeling you have in your chest, like it’s getting harder and harder to breathe.

At this point, you’re not even sure where it comes from.

You haven’t wanted to think about any of it, Rafe being locked away or the pills you found.

Anytime you start to think about that pill bottle, your mind goes to a horrible place. So, you stop, your mind deciding that you’d rather not think at all.

But you ‘ve only done so much mindless cleaning before that familiar sound of a pickup truck in your driveway stops you in your tracks.

It’s a smaller truck than your husband’s, older too. A company logo adorns the side of it.

You expect him to go to the backyard, maintaining the pool like he usually does. But instead, he walks up to your front door, forcing you to move away from the window you’re spying from, hoping he didn’t see you.

The doorbell rings and you consider not answering it.

But it’s like your body screams at you to open the door for him.

He doesn’t look any different when you finally face him, the same worn-out work clothes, and messy blond locks.

He looks almost surprised you even answered the door.

He says your name like it’s unfamiliar to him.

“What are you doing?” you ask, desperately needing to know.

“I just…I heard about…I heard about Rafe,” he finally spits out.

When he doesn’t get a word or a twitch of a muscle in your face from you, he sighs.

“I just wanted to see if you were okay. But I won’t bother you-.”

You can tell by the way he moves his feet that he’s going to leave, so you stop him.

“No. You’re not bothering me,” you explain, opening the door wider. “You want to come in?”

He hesitates only slightly, and a relief floods his eyes as he accepts.

“Can I get you anything? Water, lemonade, I just made some iced tea-.”

You open the fridge, ready to grab whatever he wants.

He stops you merely by saying your name.

“You don’t need to do any of that for me. I want to know how you’re doing.”

You let the fridge door close. You can feel that heaviness that occupies your chest starting to come back.

“I’m sure it was a shock,” he continues. “When he was arrested.”

“Yeah,” you mumble, gaze finding the floor beneath you.

You don’t even realize that your fingers play with a loose thread coming from your dress.

“I can’t believe he was able to get away with it for so long. Even had his own wife fooled.”

“You’re acting like I’m an idiot or something, JJ.”

You see his eyes widen.

“No. Not at all,” he quickly says. “It’s Rafe. He’s a fucking psycho.”

That doesn’t exactly make you feel better.

Your hands unconsciously move to your stomach.

“Sometimes I think I’m just as awful as he is,” you say like you’re thinking aloud.

You look at JJ but it’s almost like you’re looking past him.

He shakes his head and scoffs as if you’ve said something stupid.

“I just feel like if I’m awful too, then what chance do they have?”

JJ freezes then, his eyes finding your tearful ones. A question lingers on his face as he drags his eyes to where your hands are – on your stomach.

He raises his eyebrows. “You’re pregnant?”

All you can do is nod.

“Shit,” he sighs out, running his hand through his hair.

He takes a moment to think, eyes anywhere but you. But they finally find you again.

He gives you an almost pained look before stepping closer to you.

He lets out a ragged breath before saying, “that baby is very lucky to have you as a mom. And I’m sorry if Rafe ever made you feel differently.”

You try to blink away the tears, but instead they fall down your cheeks.

“I just don’t know how everything could go so wrong. And all at once,” you add.

“Just know that you’re not alone. I’ll do anything I can. Also, I’m sure Sarah-.”

“Thanks, JJ,” you interrupt by hugging him.

For a moment, all the noise in your head is gone. There is no sinking feeling in your chest anymore. You can feel his arms wrap around you.

But the serene silence is replaced with an even worse feeling than the one before as you hear the front door being opened.

Fear.

You step back from JJ quickly as if you were burned by being too close to him.

Neither of you are fast enough to get out before he finds you.

“What the hell is this?”

Pure poison drips from his words as he looks between you and JJ.

You’re surprised to find JJ not even a bit scared to see Rafe, now a known murderer. Instead, he looks like he’s gearing up for a fight.

That doesn’t exactly help the mix of fear and worry that paints your face.

“They let you out of jail already?” JJ asks. “Surprising considering you killed two people. But that’s what enough money gets you, huh?”

Rafe seethes from JJ’s taunts, jaw ticking and brow furrowing. He’s spent one night in jail, and he already looks just a little rougher. His hair is messy, and his shirt is wrinkled.

“What the fuck are you doin’ in my house?” Rafe yells, practically lunging toward JJ.

JJ steps out of his way, trying to get closer to the front door.

“Rafe, stop! I invited him,” you try to explain.

“And why the hell would you do that?”

“Because!” You pause for a moment. “Because he’s been cleaning our pool for months.”

“What?” Rafe squints at you, anger pointed toward you now. “So, you’ve been lying to me?”

“I wasn’t lying. You never asked.”

“Have you been cheating on me too?” an accusatory tone in his voice.

“No,” you quickly reply.

“Like I would believe a word you say now.” He turns to JJ again, who has been torn between bolting and trying to help you.

“Have you really been cleaning our pool, or have you just been fucking my wife?” he asks him.

“Rafe,” you yell, disgusted by his words.

He inches closer to JJ, a hard glare set on a face that matches his own expression.

You see how Rafe’s fingers flex, forming into a fist every now and then.

You walk up to them, saying your husband’s name again. You’ve been able to get through to him before, but you don’t think you’ve seen him this furious, ever.

Of course, he ignores you.

“Is this you getting back at me, JJ? For all those times I beat the shit out of you. Cause I can do it again.”

“Rafe, stop it,” you try again.

You grab his arm, hoping it would stop him from punching JJ.

JJ just laughs.

“Wow, man. And Y/N really thought you changed.”

Now you feel like you’ve been the one punched in the gut.

“Just leave, JJ,” you tell him, knowing it’s the only way to keep a fight from happening.

He looks at you, a mix of worry and hurt in his eyes. You think he might argue with you but after a moment, he turns to Rafe.

“I don’t know why, but she really loves you,” he says, giving one last glare to Rafe before slipping through the front door.

“Get the hell outta here, JJ,” Rafe yells at the back of JJ’s head as he walks to his parked truck.

You wish you could feel more relief now that a fight has been averted, but that was just one fight. You know there’s another on the horizon.

“You know,” he starts. “I was really hoping to be coming home to some peace and quiet. Especially, after the night I had.”

His voice getting louder with each word, an anger passing through every syllable.

You can barely look at him, so you don’t.

“Do you know the filth I had to sleep in last night? Actually, I shouldn’t say that. I barely slept at all. And the whole time, you’re here, letting another man in my house.” He jabs his finger into his chest. “No, not a man,” he corrects himself. “A Pogue.”

You can feel your bottom lip trembling.

He digs his nails into the palm of his hand as he brings it to his face. It almost looks like he’s fighting off a migraine, and if he is, you know you’re the cause of it.

“I mean, is the baby even mine?”

“Of course, it’s yours. Why would you even say that?”

He throws his arms in the air, like the answer is obvious.

“I didn’t sleep with him, Rafe! I’ve never cheated on you. JJ is just a friend,” you try to convince him.

But it’s hard to convince someone you’re not lying, even when you’re telling the truth.

“A friend? The pool boy is a friend?” he asks, appalled you would say something like that.

“He’s friends with your sister. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

“Doesn’t mean anything good,” he simply says before walking upstairs.

You follow him, still upset that he thinks you’re lying.

“I need to take a shower,” he tells you, throwing his stuff down on the dresser in your bedroom.

“You don’t get to be mad at me, Rafe. I should be the one who’s mad.”

“And why is that?”

“Look around!” You wave your hands around wildly. “Our house, our life, our marriage, it’s a mess, Rafe. And it’s all your fault.”

“My fault. My fault?” He moves away from the bathroom, getting closer to you. “I was helping us, Y/N. The promotion was to give us more money, and everything else I did was to protect you. To protect our family.”

“Whatever,” you scoff. “You didn’t know I was pregnant when you were protecting your family.

Rafe casts his eyes downward, finding a spot on the floor to be more interesting.

“Right? You didn’t know I was pregnant,” you repeat. “Cause there really wouldn’t be a way for you to know before I did,” you say, knowing you’re actually asking a question.

Finally, he nods. “Yeah, I didn’t know.”

He still doesn’t look at you.

And for some reason, it shatters you. You feel like a million pieces on the floor, needing to be swept up and thrown away.

“What did you do, Rafe?”

You can hear yourself breaking, losing any grip you had on your sanity, dignity, and your hopeful delusion.

You don’t exactly know how, but you know he’s lying to you, and you know it has something to do with the night of Midsummers. The night you can’t remember putting yourself to bed. It has to do with the dream you had and the pills you found. It’s just taken this long to admit it to yourself.

“Please tell me you didn’t do something,” you plead.

The silence is suffocating.

He’s killed two people. Why is it hard for you to realize that he could do something just as evil, if not more?

“Rafe!”

“What?” He finally meets your gaze. “What do you want me to say? I’ve told you that everything I did, I did it for us. I don’t know why you can’t see that.”

You don’t think you can look at him for another second without being violently ill.

Once you storm downstairs, he’s right on your heels, not letting you leave his sight.

You can hear him trying to justify his actions, explaining, but it just sounds like noise to you.

You’re not exactly thinking, more so acting on impulse, on the emotions clouding your mind.

On the kitchen counter, sits the knife block. You barely think about it as you grab the sharpest knife out of the bunch.

He has to step away from you to avoid the knife grazing him. You wave it at him, pointing the shiny steel directly at him – his chest, his neck, somewhere he really wouldn’t want to get stabbed.

“You raped me!” The words erupt out of you. “You drugged me, and you raped me. Tell me I’m wrong.”

His blue eyes widen with shock and traces of fear. He keeps his hands up. His palms open to show that he’s defenseless.

A sick part of you feels satisfied to see him be the one who’s scared and weak.

“Calm down, okay?”

“No! Answer me,” you yell, voice coarse.

“Not until you put the knife down.”

His unusually level tone chips away at your anger and your stubbornness. You readjust your grip on the knife as you glance away from him for a second.

That’s all he needs in order to roughly grab your wrist and to push you into the kitchen counter behind you.

You groan out in pain as your back hits the edge of the marble. Rafe is able to pry the knife out of your hand, also painfully.

You hear the knife clatter to the ground as you realize you might need to admit defeat.

He keeps your body pinned with his, his grasp still on your wrist, meaning you can’t move away from him.

“I can’t rape my own wife.” His tone is cold, and it almost sounds like it comes from a man who only looks like your husband but isn’t actually him. “When I put that ring on your finger, it meant I could crawl on top of you and do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted.”

Your tears don’t stop him.

“What is in between your legs is mine. So that means if I want to get you pregnant, it is my right to do that.”

He pauses, the only sound are the sobs you try to stop from coming out.

“All of this went on for way too long,” he continues. “I didn’t mind you having a job at first, it made you happy, it gave you some semblance of control.”

You wince as his grip on your wrist gets tighter.

“But I didn’t think it would get in the way of us having a family,” he continues. “I didn’t think you would choose it over me.”

You shake your head, wanting to say something, but nothing cohesive can be formed in your head right now.

He lets go of your wrist, taking your hand in his instead.

“All I did…” he pauses, kissing the back of your hand while still holding it. “…was show you what you really wanted.”

“Get off me, Rafe,” you say quietly. But when he doesn’t move, you push him with all your strength and yell, “get off me!”

He looks at you like a wounded puppy, like he feels rejected by you, like he doesn’t know how fucked up what he just said was.

You move back, trying to put enough space between the two of you. You’re still crying, tears streaming down your face as your chest heaves.

You try to speak through ragged breaths.

“I really thought you could have become a good person, Rafe. I really thought all that violence, all that bullying, was just you being young and stupid. But it’s who you are, and you can’t change it.”

You notice his eyes filling with tears before he sniffles, glaring at you to try and prevent any crying.

You continue, “I should have known that you can’t change someone who has a soul so dark, that they suck all the light out of anyone they’re close to. And that’s what you did to me. And that’s what you’ll do to this baby.”

The sobs have stopped, rage replacing the heaving.

“So, you might have been bailed out by your father. But there’s no way you’re not going to prison. Or worse,” you add. “I’ll tell them everything. I’ll make sure that they find you guilty. And I’ll be glad. I’ll be glad that you’ll be far away from me.”

You stare at him, a scowl written on his face until it morphs into laughter.

“And how is that going to work out for you? I’ll tell them everything also.”

He steps closer to you, and you can feel that suffocation again.

“I’ll tell them how you helped me hide the body. How you’ve known for weeks, how you’ve lied to the police and lied to everyone you know. You think they’re not going to send your ass to prison too?” He flashes his teeth at you. “And believe me, you wouldn’t last a day.”

He walks around you, like a predator circling its prey.

“But if you do manage to last,” he continues. “They’ll let you give birth in prison. Then, it’s bye-bye baby. My parents will probably adopt, but even when you get out, doesn’t mean they’ll let you see the kid.”

He stops in front of you, darkness filling his eyes as he sees fear fill yours.

“You’ll never have custody. Your child probably won’t even call you mom.”

“Stop, Rafe.”

“So, if you do what you say you’re going to do, that baby isn’t going to have any parents.”

You can feel your stomach twisting and your chest getting tighter. You don’t want to go to prison, you don’t want to lose your baby, and you absolutely don’t want your in-laws raising your child to be just like Rafe.

You finally look at him, meeting his gaze.

“I don’t want that to happen.”

Your voice barely sounds like your own, it sounds tired and worn-out.

“And I’m not going to let that happen,” he says, a concern in his voice that wasn’t there before, so you wonder if he feigns it. “But you need to be on my side, alright?”

You would rather gouge your eyes out than be on his side, but what other choice do you have?

“Neither of us are going to prison,” he explains. “But that means, someone else killed those guys.”

You furrow your brow, not understanding what he means.

“JJ killed those guys.”

“What?”

“He’s had this revenge plot against me,” he says it like he’s telling the truth. “For all those stupid fights, he decided he wanted to get back at me. So, he became our pool boy, got access inside our house, and framed me. Used my gun, left evidence, just so the police would come after me.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask, in denial, that this is actually Rafe’s plan.

“It’s the perfect story, Y/N. Come on.”

“Rafe, I know you think something happened between-.”

He stops you by softly putting his hands on your shoulders.

“I know nothing happened between you and JJ,” he says calmly. “But he’s the only person that has been to our house. Every week, right? And right around when the first murder happened.”

“Rafe. I’m not putting an innocent man in jail. He’s a good person.”

He just shakes his head.

“It’s either him or us. We have a life, Y/N. A baby on the way.” Rafe’s voice rises with a familiar anger. “What does JJ have? He’s never going to be anything. We’re doing him a favor.”

You close your eyes momentarily, and when you open them, your vision of Rafe is blurry.

“I don’t love you anymore. And if you do this, I know I’ll never love you again,” you tell him as a tear falls onto your lips.

He thinks for a moment before bending down and placing a kiss on your stomach.

He stands to his full height, looking down at you.

“At least, I won’t be in prison.”

You thought you would never be able to do this. To be able to go back to the way things used to be.

Except, things will never be the way they used to be.

Now all you do is pretend. And it makes you wonder if that is what you were doing all along.

Your wrist grows tired from stirring the mashed potatoes. You think you may have been stirring for too long. Your mind and your arm aren’t connected.

It’s almost like you’re a machine, programmed to do the same things every day.

You lock eyes with your daughter who sits in her highchair.

You feel a spark of joy somewhere deep inside.

The fact is you were never the same after that day.

But you did what you were taught, to push down any emotions, to pretend that everything is okay.

Your testimony helped an innocent man be sent to prison for the rest of his life. You watched Rafe lie through his teeth so JJ would be the one taking his spot.

Normally, something like that would make you sick, make you so angry you couldn’t think straight.

But not now.

You thought it would be hard to let Rafe touch you again. You thought you would be reminded of the night you barely remember anytime you could feel his skin on yours. But you just taught yourself to think about it differently, or not at all.

If he hadn’t done it, you wouldn’t have your daughter. You know he loves you. He loves you so much it makes him crazy. That’s what you think about when he’s on top of you at night, thrusting into you so hard it almost hurts.

But that’s what love is, it hurts.

Sometimes, you wonder if you’ll snap one day. Maybe five years from now, it will be Rafe’s murder that everyone will see on the news.

You might not even care when they take you away, handcuffed. You might even feel happy.

But those thoughts are fleeting.

You know Rafe is home because your daughter’s attention is finally taken from you.

She smiles when he steps into the kitchen.

And it almost makes you smile.

“It smells good in here,” he comments.

“It’s almost done.”

“Good. I’m starving. I had such a busy day at work,” he sighs, setting his things down.

“You’ll have to tell me all about it.”

The oven beeps, and before you can open it, Rafe stops you with a hand on your waist.

“Is that a pot roast in there? How did I get so lucky?” he asks against your lips before kissing them with brutal affection.

You meet his roughness, nicking his lip with your teeth in the process.

He pulls back, a bead of crimson pours from his lip.

If there is love between you and Rafe, this is what it is – dark, bloody, and violent for everyone around.

Tags:

@fangirlwithlou @thebuttofcaptainamerica @lovedetlost @kkmstblog @whorefordrew @gillybear17 @alinaharlow @nichmeddar @coriellesmarya @rafeslovergirl @hysteriahall @loves0phelia @igotmessymind @djconde58 @imsorare @bbqsauceonmyt1tties @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @malfoytargaryen @craftyalmondghostflap @maggiec @fulla02 @starkeylover @brunetteonearth @lovurry @ohemgeewhat @babyspice6 @lmg-stilinski24 @f4ll-for-you @deems-16 @rgeraldg @ellabellabus07 @mryneedend @gills-lounge @klips118 @runningfrom2am @ilovesteveharrngton @obaex @spear-bearing-bi-witch @bellstwd @hehehehesthings

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #obx #outer banks #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader

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ms-demeanor · 6 months

Note

how do you factor brushing your teeth into the "letting yourself fall asleep while doing stuff" strategy?

Well let's preface this with the fact that I'm kind of a disaster:

I brush my teeth in the morning.

Sometimes I'll brush my teeth right after dinner (and I'm usually finishing dinner at like 10pm) and then I'll be up for another few hours and I just. Like. Try not to sweat it? I probably brush my teeth around 10-12 times a week, which is less than the recommended twice a day but honestly for me is a pretty significant improvement over where I was in, like, 2013. Getting to daily tooth brushing was a significant achievement that I had to start using an activity tracking app for. Washing my face daily is still a struggle. I am *not* great at being what a lot of people seem to consider "normal" or "functional" but I'm getting by and I'm getting better.

Ideally in a perfect world where brushing my teeth wasn't going to mean that I'd be awake for another three hours I'd brush my teeth right before tucking myself into bed in my PJs with the lights off.

But it *is* going to mean that so I brush my teeth and floss when it's not going to impact that and fall asleep in a bright room with my glasses and jeans on.

And TBH it's working out. I've got pretty fucky teeth anyway (double row of wisdom teeth, teeth when i was a couple weeks old, had all my adult teeth by the time I was seven, have had something like eight root canals and have a shitload of crowns) so it's hard to say if this has had an impact on my dental health (had a lot of those crowns and root canals when I was brushing and flossing twice daily because my parents made me as a kid) but since my last "i haven't been to the dentist in nine years and my damaged tooth broke in half during the first month of covid" fiasco I've been brushing every morning and flossing mostly every morning and getting in extra brushing and flossing when I can, I haven't had any further cavities or other issues past treating what nine years of neglect did (it's been 3 years of being pretty okay and they don't tell me that i need to floss more at the dentist so i consider that a success).

At one point a dentist told me that plaque buildup starts after about 24 hours of the bacteria in your mouth being undisturbed and that the 2x daily recommendation is to make sure you don't go 24 hours without shaking the little fuckers up. I don't actually know if that's accurate, but it has helped me to be more regular about brushing my teeth (look; depression and adhd is a bad combo and there were some rough years there) and also helped me to be more regular about brushing my dog's teeth.

So anyway please don't follow my example please do what your dentist tells you to do but also yeah if you're having sleep issues it may be more important for you to get sleep than to get up and brush your teeth right away. Brush in the mornings for sure, try to do it every day, use a toothpaste with fluoride and floss or use a waterpik to get below the gumline; then try to get in another brushing when you can, ideally at least one other time a day.

But you don't have to brush exactly twelve hours apart or right before you go to bed, and if you're eating and drinking after you brush your teeth but before you go to bed it isn't ideal but it also isn't a disaster.

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mixtapedoh · 26 days

Note

vernon as highschool crush pls for lonely boy 🧍‍♀️

vernon my bestie beloved bastard ♡ you really are requesting for the people, lindsay.

;༊ — lonely boy

pairing: hansol vernon chwe x gn!reader genre: fluff, high school au word count: ~3.3k warnings: language, mild threats among friends, a lack of originality (but perhaps ameliorated by an understanding of the conventions of trope?)

olive's notes: firstly, hahaha.......... pretend like this wasn't something you sent me actual months ago.... and pretend like i gave the prompt the justice it deserves....... shhhhhh, i answer things in a timely manner and can still be considered a tumblr writer. secondly, this is quite glaringly based off of and colored by my memories of high school, so expect United States education system nonsense <3.

☄. *. ⋆ hansol vernon chwe x high school crush.

— the hardest thing about crushing on this fucker is that he's everywhere

simultaneously the biggest cryptid in the whole student body (if you had a nickel for every time your journalism teacher asked: "has anyone seen hansol this week?" to absolute crickets you'd be able to pay for at least 2 years of college) and also the most social person to ever grace your high school halls, hansol was everywhere all at once, and contradictorily, nowhere when you sought him out.

you wanted to avoid seeing him because of something embarrassing you were sure he had noticed? bam. right there beside you, sitting on the same row of auditorium seats for the assembly.

you wanted to catch a glimpse of him while the both of you were assigned to photograph the basketball game? viola. gone, nowhere to be seen; and yet your friend will tell you later that he was there the whole time, snapping the best photos of boo seungkwan's legendary 3-pointers (which you certainly hadn't missed, so where had he been??).

— yes, having a crush on hansol vernon chwe was exhausting. there was no way to save face — trust hansol to be there at your worst hours (like that chemistry presentation where the color palette you used for your PowerPoint was too light for the old projector screen to show properly, and so you half of your graphics were unreadable, inspiring your professor to dock 10 points, despite that fact that when you pulled it up on a computer screen - or any other device that wasn't an old ass projector at least 15 years out of date - the graphics were just fine and the detail above required). it didn't matter the specifics of the occasion, it was simple fact you'd always somehow manage, in your darkest moment, to look out and see hansol — always a kind smile, with something encouraging in his eye, despite, but still horribly, embarrassingly, and irrevocably present.

— and then, as it if weren't bad enough, hansol vernon chwe had the absolute gall to be unbothered, unfazed, unable to be rattled or shaken in any way, by comparison.

oh sure, you'd seen him cringe before at him friend's (mostly kwon soonyoung's) antics; you were familiar with the way vernon expressed any and all emotion with the whole of him — his every muscle tensing and twisting in a way so visceral and real, you could feel embarrassed, too, by just looking at him — but the envy was this: it was never at his expense that such feelings would arise. vernon was never embarrassed because of something he did or caused or felt. his life was far too chill and unbothered for that. others could be embarrassing around him, but all of his actions flowed so smoothly — rolled over the shoulders of everyone else.

the closest he'd ever get was doing something explicitly stupid just for the enjoyment of others. but, the catch was this: they enjoyed it !!!! it was funny and not cringe worthy !!!!! the net effect was positive.

it was infuriating. sometimes you weren't sure if you wanted to kiss hansol or strangle him with your bare hands.

— but let's take things back to journalism.

— because of course he took journalism.

not exactly the most exalted of the journalism students or anything, hansol was mostly known for his opinion piece articles and, of course, availability and willingness to go to any school event to take pictures and help fill in the blanks of the article anyone was writing.

he had friends in any and all school functions and events. from sports to musicals, science fairs to choir recitals, you could say, "is anyone going to this very obscure and random FBLA presentation?" or "did you know that the coding club is going to be attending an event at another high school this saturday?" and hansol would immediately perk up, pull out one of his headphones and go, "yeah, i'm gonna check it out. did you need a ride?"

— and it was because of that — his being everywhere, inescapable and offhandedly thoughtful, open and so easily warm — that these pesky feelings even started, in the first place.

— just when it happened is perhaps inconsequential (in all actuality, it likely started before your journalism daily exposure, just slowly, more of an itch at the back of your mind than the brash insistence it was, now) but it was definitely the fault of journalism. maybe that band and orchestra festival in 11th grade where you went with hansol to do a write up on all the high schools attending (placing undue emphasis on your high school's multi-talented band leader, lee jihoon, who could play half the instruments in the room), or maybe that series of debate tournaments you both covered in 11th grade, or when the two of you took over the baseball column that same year and when the heatwave spiked early, vernon would attend each game in sleeveless tops, always with an extra ball cap in tow since you would (conveniently, perhaps?) forget one of your own and the sun made it impossible to see what was happening, beyond.

yes, just when it hit was neither here nor there, because at the end of the day, the problem remained: you were hopelessly down bad for one hansol vernon chwe. fuck.

— and you couldn't escape him if you tried.

and trust me, at one point, try, you had.

— after all, at the beginning of your senior year, you somehow ended up being in the same spanish class as him and his friend joshua, and after a whole year (and subsequent summer break, when your journalism teacher found an opportunity to have a section of the city newspaper be dedicated to "the youth of journalism," and weekly, your journalism club was able to publish in the city newspaper) of crushing on hansol with a vehemence perhaps concerning, you knew you couldn't handle having to have embarrassing debates, conversations, and role play scenarios with him.

in perhaps two weeks you were in the counselor's office, exploring alternate class blocks. in the end, you were stuck in a ceramics course instead of your preferred electives, but at least when the unit on "la familia, el amor y todo lo interpersonal" came up, you were role playing as a couple alongside jeon jungkook, who couldn't stop making you wheeze with laughter from his overextention of the r at every available chance, rather than your crush, hansol.

(all it would have taken was one "te extraño" from hansol through your fake hand phones to absolutely floor you. someone call the school nurse, you're fallen and perhaps can never get back up again.)

— so you avoided him there, and even before that, during your junior year, you had mostly eaten off campus on your second schedule days when you and hansol had the same lunch hour and the risk of running into him at a time potentially embarrassing was at an all time high, seeing as nowhere was safe — the social butterfly he was, hansol managed to have business in every hallway of the school. not a single area was risk free.

yeah, junior year really had just been a mess of emotions you hadn't wanted to name, and so instead, elected to pointedly ignore. you were glad to say that while spending your hard earned money to eat out 2-3 times a week was a bit of a low, you had solidly moved out of that phase of your life by spring that year, and could stomach the risk of Being Seen by someone who had captured your attention so strongly.

and yeah, even though you had a bit of a backslide when changing spanish classes senior year (which could be chalked up to self-preservation, truly), you had solidly moved past that whole Avoidance Stage of your Crippling Crush on One Hansol Vernon Chwe.

— so hansol couldn't be avoided. that much was abundantly clear. and you had to interact with him in journalism and (god willing) be normal while doing so, and luckily, while all that exposure didn't exactly desensitize you to his overwhelming charm, admirable confidence, infectious smile, endearing jokes, comfortable aura, and oh so beautiful eyes, it had forced you to just,,,,,,, accept some things.

— accept that you had a raging crush on hansol, but that it could be managed... so long as none of your mutual friends found out.

— you were pretty sure that wonwoo knew, but at least he was ✨subtle✨ and generally checked out of things like that. genuinely, he could not care less, and so he made it no one's problem. you could probably tell him your most rancid, vulgar thoughts, and he would just file it away in his mind as: "nasty shit i can never unhear" and go about his day. compare that to your other mutual acquaintance, seungkwan, and well...

— but for the most part, it seemed that senior year was inching away, another year with a crush on hansol, and another year where you didn't say a damn thing and refused to leave anything close to a hint for him to pick up on.

— but mercy didn't exactly exist for you, now did it.

— the horrible series of Epic Fumblings and Incriminating Moments began in october, when hansol and joshua decided to make a podcast to convince the school that an AV club could be a fun addition to the roster of School Sanctioned Clubs (an idea they really should have had back in august — you know, when clubs were first getting registered and students were accosted in the hallways with club information slapped on astrobrights with strong ~graphic design is my passion~ presentation)

they had needed someone tech savvy enough to get them the podcast equipment and teach them how to use it (and just,,, do all the technical aspects for them 🥺👉👈 pwetty pwease 🥺👉👈 we're just silly boys who want to talk about random shit but are trying to pass it off as being Constructive in Some Sense so that it looks good on college applications) and so obviously their search had sent them in the way of wonwoo, who only seemed to have free time on the exact day and time you two would joint study for your college level government and politics course.

so of course he asked if the two of you could move your study sessions to a different location (he swore he could multitask? okay overacheiver) so that he could both study with you and help the stupidly handsome hansol and joshua with their brilliant podcast idea.

and of course, you'd forget the first time and wonwoo would conveniently not answer his texts for 20 minutes, allowing for the most embarrassing stage of him finally picking up his phone (on speaker?) to you yelling "jeon wonwoo, i will personally castrate you and throw it in the ocean so you can be eaten alive by the creatures birthed from the subsequent sea foam if you don't come to the library to study right now. i have been waiting for 20. minutes. where are you?" and hansol and joshua would hear you. and have the gall to laugh.

and of course wonwoo wouldn't even give you the grace of not having to show up to his house (your new study location) to study for the day. in fact, hansol gave him the brilliant idea of threatening to train an eagle to peck at your liver daily - not eating it fully, just put in it's beak and twist the flesh. since you can't grow another liver overnight, of course. don't you just love mythological punishment.

(and that wouldn't be the end of the embarrassing podcast adventures, either. the time shua cajoled you into being a special guest????? truly, you dodged a bullet not being in spanish with that fool. he's impossible to refuse and the worst of it was that he knew it.)

— or what about the december gift exchange in journalism?? that was certainly not your finest moment, trying to get chaewon to change names with you so that you could gift something to hansol (something lady luck had never granted you despite all the blood, sweat, and tears you sunk into this journalism group of yours), and he heard you, mid-conversation.

seungkwan had told you hansol had been talking about it later, and you quite literally saw him connect the dots in slow-motion as he recounted the story. "y/n, do you have a crush on hansol????" it would have been bad enough that he practically yelled the accusation in the stands of the football field, but then he had the gall to triumphantly gasp and break into hysterical laughter upon your clear embarrassment at being caught. it was during lunch! you're shared lunch break with hansol! who knew where that fucker was! he probably saw the whole exchange!

(in the end, chaewon didn't change names with you (she traded with some other journalism traitor so she could gift to sakura) and even though hansol didn't have your name, he got you something regardless, saying it was thanks for putting up with he and shua stealing wonwoo during your (once peaceful) study sessions. you had decided against getting him a gift regardless, and so you had to awkwardly seek him out during winter break to shove a poorly wrapped box in his hands, with a mumbled apology for your tardiness in gifting, something he pushed away cooly, as expected (but were those red ears of his from just the cold, alone?).)

— and then, well, once everyone came back from winter break and seungkwan knew of your crush on hansol... school became less a Place of Learning and more a Viscous Time Loop of Shutting Seungkwan Up Before He Spilled The Beans.

kicking him under the table. threatening his livelihood. slapping a hand over his mouth on one occasion because seungkwan couldn't take a joke and his retaliation of choice was calling over hansol right there and then and forcing you both to awkwardly sit in the bitter soup of Revelation.

— and then there was february. oh, february. how easy it is to loathe february.

— it was already hard enough getting through the embarrassment of valentine's day themed fundraising — every year, your literature teacher (who oversaw the student body officers — that first exposure to the cruel reality of rigged elections, a popularity win if there ever was one) offered extra credit for students who volunteered time to help the sbo's with their silly little business venture of "roses for $3, sugar cookies with shocking pink frosting for $2, heart suckers for $1, sonnets written by the creative writing and theatre kids for $7.

every year you volunteered for some reason or another - maybe your grade needed it, maybe you were doing sbo president seungcheol a favor because no one signed up, maybe you were following the stupid advice of seokmin and were doing it for the plot (code for: please don't leave me alone at the stand, i will buy you all the sugar cookies you'd like, just don't consign me to spending my lunch break in this particular layer of hell in solitude). this year was no different in you signing up to do time, but seungkwan sure was different, asking you every day if you managed to see if vernon sent anyone something (he had — soonyoung had convinced him to pitch in to send jihoon 16 sonnets, to be read aloud in the middle of class). if he had sent you something (he hadn't).

but when you got an anonymous rose sent to your 2nd class of the day, with a cryptic note attached, your friends wouldn't let you live it down all week. (who had sent it, though? they would have had to be very strategic as to when they placed the order — you had certainly never seen one for yourself in your daily exchange of goods, and seokmin was suspiciously tight lipped about the whole thing (very uncharacteristic of him — who had the ability to buy dk's silence, and better yet, how had they done it???)).

— yes, valentine's day was bad enough. but to add to the mix was always hansol's birthday. last year you'd gotten him a gift since you had worked quite a lot together during that month, and it just felt... normal. comfortable. something kind to do that wasn't weird in anyway. but these days, facing hansol was almost as embarrassing as it had been during junior year when you avoided the mere sight of him like seeing him smile would end in you contracting the plague.

as the day inched ever closer, you were seriously considering missing the day entirely. taking the day off. pretending to be sick. but that wouldn't get you out of seeing him the day after. and the day after that.

perhaps fleeing the country would be a totally normal reaction and solid plan.

— and then joshua invited you to hansol's surprise birthday party.

well. at least that cleared up whether you should get him a gift or not.

— to say that, at that moment and for the subsequent days afterward, were overthinking the whole thing would be to extremely understate reality.

you were about to pop a blood vessel over this shit.

wonwoo was invited, too (how charitable of them. making sure there'd be someone there to scrape you off the floor when you inevitably discovered the power of self combustion) and it was rather comical to see the two of you: cool and calm wonwoo, and you with the internal dialogue of WHATTHEFUCKWHATTHEFUCKWHATTHEFUCKWHATTHEFUCKWHATTHEFUCKWHATTHEFUCKWHA

all holding a cute little gift between you.

— and the surprise birthday party really was a Legitimate, 5-Star, Genuine Quality, Surprise Bona Fide™ - a success by all measures. a shock in more ways than one: a surprise for hansol who had no idea the party was happening in the first place, getting called over for what he expected was a casual videogame night; a surprise for lee chan, somehow, when he saw that shua got you to come 15 minutes before show time to help blow up balloons - a shock so big he started to say something with a wild grin and was immediately dogpiled by mingyu, junhui, and hoshi; a surprise for all the friends amassed when you proved to be quite adept at party games like their incredibly convoluted version of mafia; and a surprise for you, later that night, when hansol offered to take you home

— the two you decided to stop at an empty playground before parting ways and see who could jump farther off of the swings. he won by a wide margin, but you had the skinned knees to prove your effort and the memory of hansol laughing so hard he could barely breathe — his smile so wide it could've filled you completely, banish any longing from your chest for a moment of unique closeness and bliss — and perhaps that was a consolation prize, enough.

but then you and hansol were on the swings again, seeing who could tighten the swing chain the most and spin the longest, and between the motion blur, you heard hansol admit defeat and when the swing stopped, his face was all too close to yours to shrug off as friendly, and his hands were holding the swing chain on either side, and when he spoke soft and low to crown you the victor, you kissed him.

and the biggest surprise of the night was when he kissed you back.

☄. *. ⋆

blog home

#olive.writes #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt x you #vernon x reader #vernon imagine #vernon x you #svt vernon x reader #svt vernon imagine #fuck idk how to tag anymore someone tell me what i'm doing #also me????? WRITING??????????? SOMETHING LONG FORM?????????????? ohmygod it's been actual years since i've posted writing on tumblr #if my formatting isn't pretty yet give me time i'm out of practice okay #no i have not edited this we die like men

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secondhand-snow · 2 months

Text

a body of impulses

chapter 4: staining the future

lukas matsson x f!roy reader (succession)

★chapter 3★

wc: 8.6k+

warnings: super dysfunctional family, roman roy as his own warning, mention of phone sex, manipulation, praise, no use of y/n

summary: The fall back to the real world after your time spent with Lukas hits you hard. But your family hits you harder, and they hit to kill.

author's note: snow writes a fic without graphic smut?!? insanity. please consider liking, commenting, or reblogging if you enjoyed!

Logan’s birthday is… Logan’s birthday. The day is always celebratory, and always ends in trouble. Chaos tends to be inevitable when your family is together, like two comets on a collision course, helpless to stop the impending crash. Even intimate get-togethers are no exception. You were fully prepared for this, readying your mediating skills and considering any possible issues that could come up at the event. Until, your siblings inform you that they will not be attending. On one hand, it’s a shock. Missing something as important as your father’s birthday because of a fight seems unreasonable, especially when you were so sure you would see them in person again. On the other hand, the lack of their presences could avoid the conflict you were expecting. Either way, your focus shifted from getting ready to stop blow out fights to preparing to answer nosy questions on the whereabouts of your family.

It was nice to talk to your siblings after weeks of no contact. The discussions you had were usually meager, straight and to the point. But all the same, it gave you some sense of normalcy in your vastly changing life. That and the less you spoke to them, the less you had to lie to them about what you were up to. Between Lukas and work, it felt like you could barely get out a sentence without potentially compromising an immense secret. You’d gotten uncomfortably close to disclosing your relationship a couple times, both with Roman, both due to your increasingly frequent trips to Sweden. Luckily, you’d been trained enough in keeping the peace to brush over the details of your life and get him to talk about himself, the suspicion leaving his mind almost instantly.

In addition to rekindling your relationship with your siblings, a strange sort of friendship was beginning to form between yourself and Tom. You were the only two in the immediate family that hadn’t jumped ship yet, well, besides Greg. Since he wasn’t really speaking to Shiv, and Roman and Kendall would rather die than see his face, you were the only one Tom could go to for a genuine conversation. Unless he wanted to talk to Gerri, Karl or Frank, but Tom preferred speaking to someone who wasn’t at least 20 years older than himself. Because of this, the two of you began bonding in a way you hadn’t had the chance to before. When Roman wasn’t making crass jokes over your shoulder, influencing your opinion with his humor, Tom wasn’t actually that bad.

He was more down to Earth than your siblings. He had grown up rich, but not your kind of rich, and it gave him a sort of level headedness that you didn’t see often. His jokes were pretty funny, and his midwest accent gave his speech a natural formality that was strangely captivating. You liked talking to Tom, you even began to see him as a friend during the months after the GoJo deal began. Not only was he sociable, he was actually good at what he did. You’d always thought that he got his position through his relationship with Shiv, though when you began working with him on the GoJo deal you saw that his work ethic had a genuine quality to it. He could be a little brutal at times and looked out for himself before others, but who wasn’t in this business. By the time Logan’s party came up you found yourself honestly enjoying his company.

When you arrive at Logan’s penthouse, the party has already begun. There’s a good crowd of people mingling, mostly executives from Waystar’s corporate world and old business associates of your Dad’s. You’re happy to see Colin, who you greet with a friendly smile, and annoyed to see Kerry, who you give a tight lipped grin. Your dad is at least somewhat happy to see you, giving you the rare hug in welcome.

Buying gifts for a man that has everything is incredibly difficult, and after the watch situation from last year, you were even more terrified of Logan’s reaction to your present. You had settled on purchasing him a Navy medal of honor from WWI to add to his collection and wrapped it weeks in advance, trying to push the worry from your mind for as long as possible. As he opens the present now, his reception is better than you hoped for. Your dad offers you a small thanks and notes that he will add it to one of his display cases later. Internally you doubt that he will, but at least he was kind to you publicly. With another quick hug and a promise to see him again in a bit, you enter the throng of people once more and begin looking for a drink.

It’s really only natural that you gravitate to Tom, joining his side with a glass of champagne as soon as you spot him in the mass of suits. He cracks a few jokes, makes a few comments on work, but mostly you just stand together and look engaged in conversation, successfully deterring any onlookers from bothering you to ask prying questions. You make frequent trips to the bathroom. Not to actually use the toilet, but to answer your messages from Lukas. It was too much of a chance to open his texts around others at the party, since so many of them knew him well. He knows your at Logan’s birthday, he even considered attending himself before getting too busy with work. His goofy texts brighten up the otherwise dull day, giving you something to look forward to and keeping you awake amongst the bland chatting you’re obligated to engage in.

It’s after one of these trips to the bathroom that the first sign of discord begins to creep into the party. It starts with Cousin Greg, who’s chattering incessantly in Tom’s ear as you approach the pair.

“-I’m kidding, I really do like her.” You seamlessly attach yourself to the conversation as you join them, keeping pace as you begin to walk from room to room.

“Like who? The blonde teeny bopper you brought?”

“Yeah!”

“What, did you meet her on Raya or something?” You get a small laugh from Tom at that, the three of you pausing your stroll for a moment.

“She’s used all the display towels in the bathroom and now they’re sopping wet, she’s gabbling about herself and posting on social media.” Greg scoffs a bit at Tom’s critique, looking around to be sure the blonde was nowhere nearby. “She’s asking people personal questions- and she’s wolfing all the canapes like a famished warthog!”

“People are overreacting, okay? She brought a normal kind of handbag!”

“Greg, the massive purse is one thing. Posting pictures of the inside of my father’s house on Instagram is actually incredibly invasive. She’s basically a security risk at this point.”

“You are a laughing stock of polite society.” As Tom chimes in, the unmistakable face of Greg’s date begins to approach you, a look of concern on her face. Tom whispers as he finishes his comment. “You’ll never go to the opera again.”

“Maybe- we should go?” The woman’s voice has a twinge of vocal fry, her hand holding her phone protectively close to her body.

“Oh are you okay? What, uh, what happened?” Greg stoops from his normal towering stance to direct his quiet tone towards his date.

“Nothing! I just asked Logan for a selfie.”

“You asked my dad for a selfie?” You can’t help the small laugh of disbelief that leaves your mouth at her confession.

“Yeah- oh! You’re- uh…” The woman is at least socially conscious enough to realize her mistake in not addressing you, an awkward smile coming to her face as she continues. “I said ‘Congrats on the big deal.’ I was like, ‘Ker-ching, am I right?’ I was being funny!”

“...That is hilarious.”

It’s a little while later when things start to get worse. Logan had disappeared with Colin a couple of hours ago, and was now ignoring calls as his executives tried to contact him. Additionally, Kerry had come to you and asked you to talk to your siblings, to get them to text or call Dad for his birthday. You gave her the same strained response you’d had to repeat so many times in the past few months, “My siblings are capable of making their own decisions.” Despite this, you did text them to let them know of Kerry’s request. They left the message on read. It’s you who’s finally able to get through to Logan, letting him know that there was some trouble with the Pierce deal. He arrived back at the penthouse only a bit after you contacted him, immediately stopping the party and kicking out the crowd.

And so, on a day that was supposed to be calm, work-free, and relaxing, you ended up gathered in Logan’s home office with the tension rising rapidly. It’s concerning how quickly the group is able to find out that it’s your siblings who are the rival bidders. It’s more concerning how upset Logan is when he finds out. He swears. More than usual. He yells at both you and Tom, telling the pair of you to call Shiv and tell her to get her own idea. To your credit, you do call her, but you go straight to voicemail.

You’re helpless in the situation, in a sort of trance of dissociation as chaos unfolds around you. You barely even perk up during Logan’s “roasting” rampage, refusing to cause a spectacle for your dad’s amusement. Unfortunately, Greg doesn’t have the same foresight as you. What snaps you out of the haze is when Tom finally gets through to your sister. The two of you huddle around his iPhone in the corner of the room, trying to maintain some sense of privacy as speakerphone causes your conversation to echo around the office.

“Hey, Shiv” Tom’s is clearly stressed, an unnatural lilt in his voice as he speaks.

“Hi?”

“Hey. Tom!” So Kendall’s with her.

“Fuck you, man mountain!” And the voice of Roman solidifies your siblings' involvement in buying Pierce. An inaudible sigh leaves your mouth as the worst is confirmed.

“Hey, look, so… we were just wondering if we’re not being- uh, played a little here. Since this is all indicative.”

“Okay, well, what did he go up to?” Shiv’s tone is simultaneously annoyed and eager.

“Well, we can’t tell you that.”

“He didn't go to nine, did he?”

“Well, we were just wondering, you know, all things being equal, the asset does have a price. And it would be- it would be crazy to add an emotional… uh, premium here.” Tom is beginning to scramble, his demeanor becoming frantic as he searches for some kind of tactic to convince your siblings. “So, should we be looking for a back door on this?”

“What's Dad's ceiling?” Shiv asks the question like she already knows the answer. You wonder if she really does.

“Well, what's your ceiling?”

“Why don't you go first, Tommy? Build that trust, brah!” Kendall’s tone is surprisingly happy, like he’s high either on coke or on the thrill of bidding.

“Well, his ceiling is-- is... Uh, well, I... Your dad is just–”

“It’s higher than yours, I can guarantee that.” You cut in for the first time, saving Tom from his own bumbling.

“Oh hi baby sister! Decided to join the rebellion yet?” Roman stretches out the nickname, whining in a way he knows you hate, trying to rile you up to their level.

“Do you even have the financing for this? Or are you pooling together all your lunch money just to piss off Dad?” Maybe it’s the fact that you’re over the phone, maybe it’s how stressed out this situation has you, but you find yourself bolder than normal. For once, you’re going head to head with your sibling’s wit without backing down.

“We’re not doing this just to piss off Dad.” Shiv deadpans, interjecting before Roman can get another word in.

“Right because you have such a genuine interest in a left leaning, family based news conglomerate that’s a direct competitor to ATN.” Your normally soft and regulated tone has a sharp edge to it, cutting through your family’s bullshit like butter. “What happened to the media company you were starting, you seemed so excited about that? The hundred, or something?”

“It’s still news and media, it's just- just starting from nothing versus, like, starting from an already established network.” Kendall speaks next, you can hear his chair vaguely creaking as he sits forward to direct his voice into the phone.

“Well it’s not worth it, what you’d gain from buying Pierce is nothing compared to the damage you’d do from fucking this deal. You know that.” You take a breath before finishing your piece, voice softer as you attempt to appeal to your family’s empathy. “Right now, you can still come back from this. Things… aren’t too broken, yet. We can fix them. If you go through with this, I don’t know if that will still be true.”

There’s a long pause before Shiv speaks again. “Our ceiling is 12.”

“Fuck off!” Tom can’t contain his shock at the statement. You tilt your head back, shaking it in disbelief with your eyes on the ceiling. “Yeah, well, our’s too. Okay?”

“Okay!”

There’s a familiar beep as the call ends. You don’t look at anyone’s faces as you reclaim your seat on the couch. You barely speak for the rest of the night. You don’t flinch when your siblings win Pierce, don’t look up when your dad screams at them through the phone, don’t say goodbye to anyone as you leave. Your resolve only crumbles in private.

That night, you call Lukas. He answers on the first ring, smiling into the camera as you greet him on Facetime. You can’t say much about the business that went down today, but he knows you well enough to fill in the blanks. Lukas has listened to you vent about your family so much, and everytime he consoles you like nobody else. He remembers past issues, connects them, brings them up to understand the context better. He frowns when you cry, he tries to make you laugh when you’re mad. He’s single handedly crushing your apprehensions on the relationship one night at a time.

You feel refreshed in the morning, maybe you cried all the angst out of your bloodstream. There’s already a text from your boyfriend making sure you're okay, asking you to text him updates about your day. It’s one of the rare occasions that you won’t be in the office. Instead you’ll be at Connor’s wedding rehearsal, doing just as much work, only with your family instead of the company. Inside, you’re dreading the event. It’s awful, just 24 hours ago you were excited to see your siblings in person. You’d been prepared to hug and smile and laugh. Now, you weren’t sure if they’d even come. And worse, you had no clue how they’d react to your presence if they did attend.

Nevertheless, you persist. You treat the rehearsal like a work event you really don’t want to go to, practicing fake smiles in the mirror as you do your makeup, donning your best cocktail dress, and pushing through the anxiety rushing in your veins. The actual rehearsal is mostly uneventful, your siblings missing from attendance. Of course, it’s incredibly awkward. Willa clearly did not want to be there, tears welling in her eyes every five seconds. Connor absolutely knew this, trying to make up for it with overt public displays of affection. At one point you swear she’s gonna call it off. Instead, she runs off to the bathroom with her bridesmaids for half an hour before returning like nothing was wrong. By the time it’s over and Willa is rushing out the door, you’ve settled into a round table at the restaurant with Connor. You’re expecting to be consoling him for the rest of the night.

It’s just your luck that your family arrives less than five minutes later.

“Finally!” Connor’s sudden interruption in your small talk makes your head whip around, your eyes landing on the trio approaching you. You set down your champagne glass a little too hard, and plaster a polite smile on your face as they near.

“Found him!” Roman is the first to approach his demeanor casual as always, eyes skipping over you to focus on Connor sitting to your right.

“Hey, hey.”

“Hey.”

“Here you are, we missed you.” You keep your voice gentle as you address them, letting Kendall give you a small pat on your shoulder in welcome.

“Hello sir, hugsie?” Rome stoops to plant a semi-authentic hug on Connor, gazing over his shoulder to give you a small look of endearment. A silent show of forgiveness you’ve gotten used to.“We’re so sorry man.”

“Yeah, dad screwed us.” Shiv reaches over you to hug your brother. She gives you a tight lipped smile to acknowledge your presence. “Hey, bro.”

“Oh look at you, the rebel alliance. How is it out in those hills? Supply lines okay? Got enough to eat?” Connor alters his voice a bit, putting on a front of normalcy for his family, even if he knows you can see right through it. Your siblings are still leaning on the table, standing noncommittally as you stay seated with your eldest brother. “This is how it is, huh? Us and Dad on one side, you guys on the other?”

Roman doesn’t answer, disregards his comment in favor of asking a competing question. “You… okay man? We saw Willa on the way in.”

“Yeah, I think it’s all fine.” Connor’s resolve slips as he responds, voice lowering to a level thick with anxiety and gloominess.

“Well…” You give a sideways glance at him before moving your gaze to the rest of your family. “When Willa stood up to do her speech, she said ‘I can’t do this.’ And then she ran to the bathroom and stayed there for forty minutes with her friends.”

There’s a universal cringe that spreads across the table at that information.

“Oh no, no, no. That’s not-” Roman takes a seat, slouches back in his chair as he tries to assure Connor with some rambling. “That’s totally fine, don’t worry about that. Just… toss her another ten grand. -Or a snowmobile and some teeth whitening vouchers.”

“Any luck, Sylvia?” Connor directs his message to a blonde, tanned woman holding a glass of red wine in one hand and her phone in the other. She shakes her head. “That’s Willa’s mom.” He adds under his breath before getting up to go speak with her in the corner.

“It's… fine Con.” Roman’s volume dwindles as your brother walks out of earshot. You scoot back in your chair a bit, craning your neck to look over at Connor while your siblings continue speaking.

“This is so fucking weird.”

“Okay so- do we regroup at my place?” Shiv lowers her voice as she speaks, almost like she’s telling a secret.

“Shiv. He’s, Come on- he’s lookin’ a little rough. Don’t you think?” Rome angles a thumb to your oldest brother. His voice is thick with sympathy, a rare display of emotion from him.

“Well, sure.” Shiv’s still standing, tapping her foot impatiently as her words speed up. “I’m sorry that Dad fucked us, and I’m sorry that we’re late, but we do need to decide fast… so…”

“Wait, decide on what?” Your head turns back to the group at the table, eyes settling on your sister in front of you. “And- you’re leaving? Seriously? You just got here, you can’t spend an hour with your brother? He’s clearly going through a lot!”

“Yeah, we should stay.” Kendall chimes in, giving you a small nod of agreement. “And- I mean, I think we know, right?”

“Do we, though? They made some pretty compelling arguments”

“Sandi’s a greedy little bitch. She’s got her hand up the ass of the carcass of her dad, and Stewy’s just along for the ride. It’s a- fuck it! It’s a packet of horseshit!” Roman’s speech gives you more insight into what it is they’re actually debating. There’s a thousand different reasons your siblings could be talking to Sandi and Stewy, but with your family it’s never just innocent conversation. And with Shiv’s comment about deciding fast… whatever they’re up to, it has to be affecting something in the near future.

“Okay. What if I want to talk it through?” Your sister stresses the word I, like she is the ultimate driving force in this decision. Which, to be fair, she seems to be.

“Talk what through? What’s going on- what are you three up to now?” Your head shakes slightly as you ask the question, already preparing for the worst. There’s a slight pause as your siblings look at each other, which you use to take another sip of champagne.

“Okay, still incommunicado.” Connor’s presence breaks the rising tension, and stops one of your siblings from having to answer you. “I just really hope she’s okay. So, what do you say? A little bit of karaoke?”

“Would it be possible to do anything other than that in the entire universe?”

“No, let’s do it! Come on, just this one time.” You give Connor a little shoulder nudge as he sits back next to you, encouraging his idea with a smile.

“Yeah, she’s partying, I can party.” There’s an air of both hopefulness and desperation around your brother.

“I mean, we can go drink, right? Little bachelor party for POTUS- SCROTUS?” It’s honestly a bit of a shock to you that Roman is so quick to comply. Then again, maybe he just doesn’t want to talk to Shiv about whatever scheme she's involving them in this time.

“Well I mean… we three kind of-” Shiv tries to step in, giving her best impression of someone regretful to decline such a kind invitation.

“Oh sure, everybody’s busy.”

“Come on. Let’s give him a drink, sis.” With Kendall’s agreement, your sister is outvoted. Connor claps in excitement. “Let’s give him a drink.”

“Yeah! But- but not your usual… stupid places. Uh… somewhere fun- and real! Away from the fancy dance.” Connor stands to tower above the table, talking with his hands as he outlines his plan for the night. “A real bar with chicks. And… guys who work with their hands and grease and sweat from their hands, and have blood in their hair.”

“I don’t like these guys. They sound like a medical experiment gone wrong.” Roman’s arms are crossed, his eyes narrowed in fake suspicion as Con takes a long drink of his red wine.

“Yeah… I don’t think we have that kind of place just engraved in our memories. Might have to Google this one.” You stand to join your brother, grabbing your clutch as your other siblings rise with you. Shiv is a bit reluctant, not moving until you all begin leaving the restaurant, then hurrying to catch up with you. So you quickly find yourself on the cold streets of NYC, walking (because Connor insisted) to the nearest dive bar you can find in a three block radius.

The bar is like something out of a movie. Like something from another planet. It’s all wood paneling and dark lighting and sticky counters. There’s old TVs mounted to the walls playing baseball and a glowing red exit sign over the door as you step in. The soundtrack is muted classic rock with the clinking of beer glasses over a constant chatter of patrons.

“Ah! America… I missed you.” Connor is immediately out of his depth, blue suit clashing horribly with the plaid flannels of the other customers.

“This is charming.” You shoot Roman a smile at his attempt of optimism, he brushes you off with an eye roll as you follow your oldest brother to the bar.

“Okay, what’s everybody having?” Ken’s straight to business, you wouldn’t expect anything less out of him. “What do you want?”

“Uh- do you think they know how to make a vodka tonic?”

“They can make a vodka tonic, Rome. You’ll just have to settle for Smirnoff” You give him an eyeroll of your own. It’s moments like these you feel so much more normal than your siblings, despite the fact that you’ve had such similar upbringings.

“House red? Do I dare?” Shiv’s comment gets a genuine laugh out of you, and a string of both ‘yes’s’ and ‘no’s’ from you and Roman. She chuckles before deciding, “That- just a club soda with a sealed lid. Nothing from that… tainted nozzle.”

“Con, what do you want?”

“I’ll just have whatever a regular Joe would have. Uh, Belgian Weissbier? Not Hoegaarden, ideally.” Connor’s distracted by his phone, looking down at it while speaking instead of answering Kendall’s question.

“How do you feel about Miller Light?” You get a small scoff from Shiv at that, but Con’s already too engrossed in his iPhone to pay you any mind. You drift over to Ken as he starts ordering the drinks. The background noise is loud enough that you can’t quite hear as Shiv pulls out her phone and begins speaking to Roman. It’s only a second before he moves away from her, but you catch the vague mentionings of Waystar and Sandi before the conversation is interrupted.

“Hey, can I get a, um- vodka tonic, I’ll have a bitters and soda…” Kendall orders for the group, listing out Shiv and Connor’s orders before turning to you for your drink.

“A Cosmo?” You pitch in, receiving a nod from the bartender in confirmation. You turn back to the trio of your other siblings, catching Con in the middle of a sentence.

“-Anyway I am reassured. She’s definitely not on her way to Cuba. Well, her phone isn’t.” You move closer to peak over his shoulder, seeing a little dot on a map lighting up his phone screen. “Yeah, she stopped movin’. Guess she found a spot she likes.”

“Sure…on another man’s dick.” You, Connor and Kendall look at Rome with the same exasperated expression as he speaks. “On a much bigger, nicer, harder, younger dick is all I’m saying.”

“Rome, that’s not-” Your tone is breathy with annoyance before your brother cuts you off.

“Can we not? Because you know, I’m feeling… I’m having certain anxieties, huh?” Roman mutters a string of disingenuous apologies as Connor talks over him. “I mean, I wanna have a good time!”

“Okay, all right. Let’s have fun. We can monitor her dot together.” Kendall’s nonchalance makes you cover your mouth to mute a giggle that you know would’ve ticked Con off. “Let’s- let’s get it up on the big screen.

“Why so long…” Connor points to his screen with two fingers. He reminds you of Logan trying to figure out new electronics when he doesn’t have an assistant nearby to do it for him. “Her dot is at an aquarium supply retailer. That doesn’t look safe- is that a drug thing?”

“No.” Looking behind Con’s back, you see Roman mouth ‘I love him’ across the way at you. You respond with blowing a little kiss in his direction.

“You sure?”

“I am sure.”

“It is. It’s a drug thing.” Roman moves in, working his magic to aggravate Connor in a way only a younger brother can.

“Now she’s at a dry cleaners?” Connor runs a hand through his hair.

“She’s probably getting her panties clean. Mussed 'em up a bit.” They’re too preoccupied with bickering to notice as Kendall waves to your drinks and departs the bar on a phone call.

You sigh as the two boys continue clashing, moving over to grab your drink from its spot on the bar. The drink is good enough. The vodka’s not very smooth and the orange peel looks like it was cut by a 5th grader, but it’s better than you expected from the shabby chic destination. When you start to hear Roman mention cum, you decide to break into the conversation.

“Hey guys. Drinks. Look.” You speak slowly, making big hand gestures like you’re talking to toddlers. It gets a scoff from Roman, but breaks up the tension enough for Connor to come over and grab his (definitely not Belgian, probably not even wheat based) beer. Shiv joins you too to grab her club soda. “How do we feel about food?”

“I could eat.” Connor is still pretty engrossed in his phone, but looks away for a few moments to sip from his glass. For what it’s worth, he doesn’t complain about the taste.

“Shall we grab some menus?” Rome strolls over to grab his tonic, making his way to the nearest table.

“Here? Isn’t that guaranteeing food poisoning?” Shiv crosses her arms, holding her position at the bar as she glares at your brother.

“Come on Shivvy, we’re being average citizens. Remember?” You bite your lower lip in a smile, following Rome to sit at the table. Con comes with you, not even bothering to look up from his device as he just moves with the crowd. She’s out ruled, once again, and gives in to join you three. It’s only a few seconds later than Kendall joins you again, an indistinguishable look on his face.

“Hey, what’s up? What did I miss?” His tone doesn’t give anything away, the same monotone, muttered pitch that you’re used to.

“We’re… eating! Right here!” Kendall sits in the free chair next to Roman as the younger man points animatedly to the menu in front of him. “Billy Ray Cyrus’s Kentucky Fried Shit Shack.”

“Roman, they’re gonna spit in your food if they hear you say that.” You shake your head, a small smile on your face as you turn your attention to your own laminated menu.

“Well, they seem to have some hearty fare.” Connor follows your lead, looking over the meal options himself.

“What was that shit?” You’re glad Roman asks before you do. The question is on your mind too, but it sounds less suspicious coming from your brother.

“Uh- Stewy…”

“Oh great, what the fuck now? What?”

“Well actually guys, can i- can i show you something?” Ken pulls out his phone, screen illuminating his face in the dark lighting of the bar.

“Yeah…” Shiv leans over to peek at Kendall’s phone while Roman tries to tune out the action happening before him. Instead of giving Ken the attention he’s asking for, Rome’s eyes scan the menu before he begins his interruption.

“Ooo, wings! I wonder from which particular creature they snip these wings.” He shifts the cadence of his voice, making his tone all whimsical and silly. “Perhaps a mammal…”

It’s um… on the comparables. It’s- it’s actually pretty fucking intriguing.” The information Kendall gives leaves a puzzled look on your face.

“Wait… why are you looking at the market comparables for Waystar?” You set down your menu as you make eye contact with Ken, narrowing your gaze slightly. “I thought you three were done with the company, completely into your Pierce-thing now.”

“Well, it just makes you think.” Shiv pitches in, your eyes shifting to her, brows still furrowed in question. “Maybe Dad isn’t on it like he used to be… he’s getting pushed around-”

“Fuck, she’s in the East River.” Connor’s outburst makes you whip around in his direction. You feel like a bobble head trying to even out our attention between your siblings. “She in the fucking- wait, no. She’s on the bridge, she’s headed to uh- Williamsberg.”

“Con, I love you, but there’s other shit going on.” You keep your tone gentle with him, a reassuring but slightly strained smile on your face.

“Not to be dicks but- can we do a little breakout chat? Just the three of us?” Shiv is already moving in her seat by the time the question is out of her mouth. Her eagerness makes you crinkle your nose in agitation. “We won’t be long, like, two minutes max.”

“Hey, fuck it. Why don’t we fold them in?” Rome scratches his nose and raises his shoulders in indifference as he addresses your sister.

“Well, they’re not on the board so…”

“Yeah but they have sizable shares, so if the deal-” Roman makes a cutting sound low in his throat, “-they lose their payouts.”

“Excuse me?” Connor’s focus is finally on the group instead of his phone, his hand now holding the beer glass he’d previously forgotten.

“Oh yeah, so, Shiv wants us to get mixed up in some sort of drug deal that will fuck the vote tomorrow.” And all your suspicions are unfortunately confirmed.

“You wanna fuck the deal?!” You can’t keep the shock from your voice.

“Um, no. A small delay, we all want the deal.”

“And, look- I think I agree.” Kendall’s admission just surprises you more, causing you to shake your head lightly in disbelief.

“Oh, what the fuck now?”

“So, what? You think Waystar’s worth more than what Luk- or, Matsson’s paying, and you want to drive the price up?” Shiv and Ken nod in confirmation. “That’s so fucking stupid, he’ll walk if you try to force him to that!”

“Yeah, you’re gonna force Dad to grovel?” Connor steps in again, his expression mirroring yours. “Oh man, how long will a renegotiation take?”

“It’s a play.” Shiv moves her hands in front of her like she’s trying to smooth the air between you, trying to brush the tension away from the five of you. “More money is more money, and that’s all there is to it.”

“I just- I can’t” You stand from your seat, moving to squeeze behind Connor’s chair. “I need a break, just give me a minute.”

“What, you running to Daddy?” Shiv calls from behind you. You flip her off.

It’s not too difficult to find the bathroom in the restaurant, luckily it’s an individual stall with a lock on the entrance door. As soon as the latch comes down, you take a deep breath and let your back rest against the white tiled wall behind you. A hand comes up to brush hair out of your face, you fold your arms across your chest with a sigh. Reasonably, you should call your Dad. You should tell him about their scheming like a good daughter, let him deal with your traitorous siblings in any way he sees fit. But as you reach for your phone, your fingers end up dialing a different number.

“Have you been talking to my siblings?”

“A few of them, yeah.” Lukas answers your Facetime on the first ring, your phone showing an image of him sitting back in an armchair, donning a white tank top.

“Like, recently?”

“I just called Kendall a few minutes ago.”

“Fucking- I knew it.” Your jaw clenches involuntarily. If you were still a child, you’d be stomping your foot in anger.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” Lukas’s face tenses a bit, his eyebrows coming up to form lines on his forehead as he questions you.

“Whatever you said, it’s convinced Kendall to fuck the board vote tomorrow.”

“Oh, really?” Despite the inquiry in his voice, he doesn’t seem surprised at the fact.

“They want more money from you, these market price comparables have influenced at least two of them, probably even more board members” Your filter for business information has been blown to pieces, at this point you’re letting whatever you want fly from your mouth. You’ll probably regret it in the morning.

“I figured.”

“Are you really gonna walk if they try to negotiate for more?” You can’t help the pitiful, almost whiny sound at the end of your question.

“Hey, it’s okay, I have it figured out. The deal will be fine regardless of what happens, I promise you.” Lukas’s tone takes on that nurturing tint he uses when you get flustered around him. You know that if you were there in person, he’d be pulling you into his lap to stroke your hair. “This has got you all worked up, huh?”

“I just- I feel so torn lately.” The sharp edge to your voice begins fading as he starts to coax the anger out of your system. “I just want everything to work out and everyone to be happy. And that’s really fucking hard when the people you love are all at eachother’s throats.”

“I know, you shouldn’t have to go through that. You’re just so caring, sometimes you can’t look out for yourself.”

“I really miss you.” Your voice breaks a bit at the confession, fingers coming up to dab at the few tears that have gathered in your waterline. These moments with Lukas are like nights. Nights where the sky is dark and covered in clouds, and every once in a while the moon will peak through the haze and illuminate the entire world below. Somehow, just a minute with Lukas will brighten your entire demeanor, and will change you for the better.

“I miss you.” There’s a sad sort of smile on his face when he continues. “You have to take care of yourself when I’m not there. Don’t get overly involved with this shit, you know it’s ultimately out of your hands.”

“I- it’s like there’s so much going on I don’t even know about. And I’m just over here worried about how everyone feels.”You wrinkle your nose at the mention of feelings. Lukas gives a small chuckle at that, you wiping your tears with a newfound smile. “You should’ve seen me, I got so pissed when they said they were gonna fuck you over.”

“Aw you defended me?” He makes a little pouty face, putting out his lower lip with his best puppy dog eyes to make you laugh. “I love it when you’re feisty, turns me on.”

“Can I come up?”

“Absolutely, just tell me when. We have our company retreat soon, so before or after that I’ll carve out some time for you.”

“Oh gee thanks, cutting out time from your busy schedule to be with your girlfriend.” Lukas gives a fake frown at that, your smile grows wider in response. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

You hang up the call with a wave before tucking your phone back into your bag. Going to the janky mirror bolted to the wall, you fix any smeared eye makeup after splashing a little cool water on your face to calm down. Your head feels clearer after that conversation, your emotions more regulated and understanding a little deeper of the issue at hand. It’s strange how just a few minutes away from your family can change your mood so severely. Making your way back down the wood paneled wall of the bar, you join the silhouettes of your siblings back at the table.

“-I wanted to get married tomorrow. I wanted to spend tonight with my family and tomorrow with my dad and I wanted to get my fucking money out.” Connor’s arms are crossed as you back down next to him, shooting a concerned look to your other siblings. “If I were you I wouldn’t have fucking come back.” He gives you a shake of his head and a glare from the corner of his eye.

“What even was that about? Were… were you telling Dad?” Kendall raises his eyebrows as he addresses your presence again.

“No, I wasn’t. That’s your own shit, I don’t wanna be involved.” He nods, but still has a look of suspicion in his eyes. “Sometimes you guys just give me migraines. But anyway, can we do anything else, Con?”

“...I would like to sing one fucking song at karaoke, because I’ve see it in the movies, and nobody ever wants to go.” There’s a short pause before Connor speaks, but he seems happy enough to switch the subject. Shiv smiles in the background of your view, Roman puts his head down on the sticky surface of the table. You put an arm around the back of Connor’s chair and smile at him during the lull in conversation.

“You wanna do karaoke?” He nods. “Let’s do it, Mr. Bachelor. You only live once.” His face lights up at your optimism, Kendall looks at your other siblings in apprehension.

“Can we do literally anything else?” Rome’s voice is muffled from its position, and Shiv puts a hand on his back in consolation.

“Come on, one song on the night before his wedding. Toughen up, Rome.” Ken deciding to support the idea makes it 3 to 2, Connor wins.

And so, with a substantial amount of whining from Roman, your party makes its way to a new location. This time, Connor allows you to get chauffeured by his driver, sparing you from the cold New York air. The karaoke bar is all modern white surfaces and bright pink lighting. The partygoers range from business men just getting off work to bachelorette parties dressed in animal prints. Luckily, the venue has a private room available at short notice and the five of you are quickly escorted there by a polite usher.

“So, what happens now?” Connor walks to the center of the room, not waiting for the door to be fully closed before eagerly exploring the new space.

“Uh, well… someone has to humiliate themselves in the shame palace.” Shiv holds up an inflatable saxophone toy with a smirk while your brother joins Con on the couch.

“It’s not humiliation, Siobhan. It’s supposed to be fun, remember?” You move to a wall holding a mounted flatscreen and two wireless microphones, beginning to fiddle with the electronic there.

“Think they have "Desperado" by The Eagles?”

“I would imagine they do. Longest night of my life.” Roman is still looking around with his hands on his hips, surveying the room with a grimace on his face

“Oh, shit. She's gone dark- why has she gone dark?” Connor is once again transfixed on his phone, a panicked expression coming across his features as he rambles. “I mean… is this it? Is she going off with some buck and they're gonna…you know?”

“Hey, take it easy. Kendall moves the thick book of songs that Connor had been flipping through over to himself, trying to calm him with his causal tone. “Maybe-maybe her phone just died.”

“Yeah. Have you ever considered that she might not be right for you? This could be good. Yeah?” Shiv is still perched by the tub of comical accessories, saxophone now abandoned as she leans with her hand placed on the counter. “You'll meet someone else.”

“Connor?” There’s a pause in Kendall’s speech, a soft look in his eyes when he continues. “You're not doing better than Willa.”

“I would agree. Do not let Willa go.”

“Romulus.” Ken’s begun to pour the provided champagne, holding a glass out to his younger brother carefully. When you see the drinks begin flowing, you make your way over to your brothers, leaving your attempt at understanding the karaoke technology begin. A chime on Connor’s phone grabs his attention again, a low sigh leaving his mouth before he speaks.

“So… Dad’s on his way.”

“What?”

“He wants us to meet him down at the car when he gets here.” Connors admission makes even you puzzled, looking around at your siblings in confusion.

“What the fսck?” Shiv opens her arms, clearly in a similar state of discomposure.

“How does he know we're here? How do you know he’s coming?” Kendall’s voice takes on a bit of an angry edge as he looks at you. “Did you tell him? Is that what that little ‘break’ was about earlier?”

“No, I wouldn’t do that!” You’re quick to defend yourself, crossing your arms over your chest as some kind of protection, some kind of armor.

“Fuck, you totally did. You’re lying!” Shiv sounds shrill behind you, her accusatory tone making you draw your eyebrows together in annoyance.

“Well, no. I told him… that it’s the night of a thousand wobbles over here and he needs to talk to you.” Connor finally steps in, taking the heat off you.

“Why the fuck would you do that?” You turn back to your oldest brother, arms coming out in an expression of absolute bafflement.

“My life isn’t filled with secrets like some people. I share things, and I want my father to be at my wedding.” Shiv moves to the back to the couch, leaning over it with two hands bracing herself.

“You mean you want the money?”

“Well no- Siobhan, that was not my primary consideration.”

“I mean, what do we do? Do we- do we leave? I mean…” Roman’s moved a hand to his mouth, chewing at his fingernails in anxiety. It’s always startling to you, how quickly he can turn subservient at the mention of your father. “Will he come in? He’s not coming in, right?”

“I am totally down to leave.” You move closer to Roman’s side in support. “I don't want to be around you-” your finger points at Connor in objection “if you pull insane shit like this!”

“This doesn’t even affect you, why are you so upset?” Shiv’s eyes narrow in a glare at you, still suspicious from your current connection to Logan.

“Because it’s evil and manipulative and- fucking conniving!”

“You know what? Just be water, my friend.” Kendall is surprisingly calm in the situation. You wonder if he’s high.

“‘Just be wat-’ Wow, thanks man.” Roman turns to you. “What happens if I kill a Buddist? Do I get reincarnated as a fucking Buddhist?”

“I hope not.” You sigh, grabbing the champagne from your brother's hand and swallow it in one gulp. “Fuck it, I’m really just gonna leave. I don’t think I can take any more of this shit tonight.”

“Honestly I would too, you don’t need to be a part of this.” Roman runs a hand through his hair as he begins pacing across the room.

“I don’t know whether to be offended or not…” You move to reach across the island table grabbing the mostly full bottle of champagne from its resting place. “I’ll just deal with Dad on my own. I’d rather not experience his wrath in front of other people. And looking at Connor makes me want to vomit right now”

“Fair enough.” Kendall is still calm, leaning back on the couch as he addresses you with an expression so neutral that it makes you want to roll your eyes.

“Do you wanna come with?” You make eye contact with Roman, eyebrows raising in question.

“... I dunno-”

“If you wanna run away you can. Just send him another little text later, ‘Sorry I missed you Daddy, take care!’” Shiv makes her voice all whiny when she quotes your brother. She’s clearly trying to aggravate him, get him to stay even if it’s not the best idea. You silently pray that Roman’s strong enough to resist her.

“Fine, I’ll fuckin- stay. Let Dad strangle all of us together, mass homicide.” But he’s not. He gives in to Shiv too easily, makes you frown in empathy.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then. Text me later okay? I worry about you guys.” As you turn to leave, you add one thing over your shoulder with a little grin. “Don’t… don’t let him push you around. As much as I disagree with you, you have to make your own choices. Even if they’re wrong.”

On the way home you finish the bottle, staring out the backseat window of the SUV as the bright lights of NYC whizz past you. When you enter your apartment, you only pause to set down the empty drink and kick off your heels before flopping back onto your bed. Your chest is a little giggly and your brain is a little fuzzy from the alcohol. So of course you decide it’s the perfect time to call your boyfriend.

“Hiii!” You speak as soon as he answers, drawing out the word with a cheeky smile on your face. You’ve rolled onto your stomach by now, supporting yourself with your elbows as you gaze lovingly down at the image of Lukas in your phone.

“Oh, you’re drunk. And sexy.” You laugh at that, it’s always surprising how quickly Lukas can read you. To be fair, you do look really hot. Your cheeks are flushed, your hair is messy, and your mascara is smudged beneath your eyes. It reminds Lukas of how you look after he’s fucked you really well.

“Yeah…I drank a bottle of champagne. By myself.”

“Things went that bad?” His eyebrows furrow a bit as he questions you, clearly worried about your wellbeing.

“Kinda? It was actually Connor’s fault this time though.” You roll onto your back with a sigh, hair splaying out behind you in a halo. You hold your screen above your head, giving Lukas a little peak at the cleavage coming out of your shirt.

“Really? What happened?” His eyes dart to the sliver of your skin, but come back up to your eyes as he awaits your response.

“He, like, went to our dad about the shit Shiv and Rome and Ken are up to. The vote stuff I told you about.”

“And Logan was mad?”

“I assume so? I kinda left before he got there… it was just too much.” Your lips come together in a frown. “I dunno, maybe I shoulda stayed.”

“No, no, you did good. Looking out for yourself like I told you to.” Lukas gives a smile that you can’t help but mirror. He knows how his praise gets you.

“Maybe, we’ll see what happens. With him it’s like night or day. He’ll either love that I didn’t agree with them or hate that I didn’t rat them out to him.”

“Well, I’m proud of you. Regardless of what he says.” His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip, eyes traveling back down to your cleavage.

“Thank you.” You pause for a second just looking at him before you continue. “If I wasn’t so drunk I’d have Facetime sex with you right now.”

“I can tell. Your pupils are so big your eyes look black.” Playfully, you roll your eyes in response. “Call me in the morning, I’ll take care of you then.”

“Okayyy, and I’ll see you soon right? Come up before your retreat thing?”

“Of course. I’ll talk to you in the morning, go get some sleep.”

You do end up getting some sleep that night, following your boyfriend's wishes. But you also energetically masturbate to his past dick pics to tire yourself out. When you tell him that in the morning, he audibly groans at the fact that he missed watching you.

In the end, Logan isn’t mad at you. He’s not pleased either. But, being indifferent is better than you expected. Atleast, that’s what you tell yourself. He invites you with the core executive crew to come to Sweden for a sudden meeting with Matsson, and of course you accept. It means you’ll miss Connor’s wedding, but you honestly don’t want to see him right now anyways. Plus, it means you get to see Lukas sooner than expected. Ken ended up texting you a brief recap of what happened after you left last night. When you read it in the morning it makes you glad that you weren’t there.

It almost feels like yesterday was a dream. Like life is all back to normal now and things will carry on just as they always have. The deal will go through, Logan will be happy leading ATN, your siblings will be happy with Pierce, or whatever they end up working with. And you will live happily ever after with Lukas, ideally on Mars, or in outer space, or some other place that alienates you from all physical contact with your family.

At least some of that ends up happening.

#ao3 #fanfic #fanfiction #succession #succession fanfic #alexander skarsgard #lukas matsson #lukas matsson x reader #lukas matsson x you #lukas matsson x oc #lukas matsson x ofc #lukas matsson fic #lukas matsson fanfic #lukas matsson imagine #snow's fics #a body of impulses

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klbwriting · 2 months

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Not Romeo and Not Juliet

Chapter 1: Mingle Yarn

Fandom: Red Hood

Pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader

Warnings: fighting, mentions of broken bones and blood

Summary: Jason Todd was alive again. Not only that, but he was back in high school, living with Dick Grayson, and just trying to get by without anyone noticing him. That doesn't go as planned.

Notes: Here it is! Dueling prep schools! Enemies to Lovers! Theater Nerds! Shakespeare! A true rom-com! Jason as a senior and a theater kid! I'm messing with the canon immensely so let's just call this an AU or Elseworlds story where Jason was killed in a similar way to Under the Red Hood movie, but instead of the LoA going and getting him Dick has the falling out with Bruce over Jason's death and he goes to resurrect him without Bruce knowing. He takes Jason to live with him in Bludhaven and enrolls him in Bludhaven Prep so that he can readjust to living and to leaving Robin behind. I hope you enjoy!

The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together

— ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL, ACT 4 SCENE 3

“Jason, you have to get going or you’re going to be late,” Dick Grayson called through the apartment. He knew Jason wasn’t exactly excited to start his senior year of high school and he couldn’t blame him if he was being honest. Just a month ago Jason had been murdered by a clown and just a week ago he had been revived in a pit of green goo protected by assassins. They had only agreed to let Dick revive him because they were the reason Jason was even killed in the first place, so it was honestly the least they could do. Dick was still coming to terms with who came out of the pit, not Jason but not not Jason either. While pre-Lazarus Pit Jason had been happy, funny, and kind of scrawny, this Jason was moody, stoic, and big. He wasn’t sure how the 17-year-old had gone from around skinny 5’8 to a jacked 6’1 during a bath but it was what it was. Now he was staying in Dick’s Penthouse in Bludhaven, Bruce had no idea he was alive, and he was starting his senior year at Bludhaven Prep and Dick was hoping getting him back out there with kids his own age would help him readjust to living again. The therapist that Dick hired, the one Clark Kent recommended, had given approval for him to return, saying he was mentally able to be around others, but considering no one knew how the pit might affect him they would still be watching him closely. Dick stood very still in the dining room, waiting until he heard feet stomping down the stairs from the loft area that Jason had taken as his room.

“I’m here, I’m here,” he grumbled, sitting down in front of the plate of eggs and bacon that Dick had made for him. Jason took two bites and made a face. “I am making breakfast from now on, this tastes like shit.” Dick rolled his eyes as he watched Jason clean his plate of the ‘shit’. “Why am I going to school again anyway? Bruce pulled me out to be homeschooled when I was freshman.”

“Ya Bruce also had you running around in tights and you’re not doing that anymore either. At least not until we know that no side effects from the pit are going to cause problems,” Dick said, putting a bookbag on the chair next to Jason. Jason glanced at the bag and then at Dick. Dick was once again struck by how different Jason was, yet he could still see the kid Jason was in those eyes. They weren’t same, they could never settle on what color they wanted to be, blue like before, green like the pit, even brown sometimes, a muddied version of the two. But the vulnerability was there, even though Jason was desperately trying to hide it.

“Fine, I see your point,” Jason muttered, grabbing the backpack before heading to the bookshelf. He grunted. “You need better books, honestly, some actual literature would be nice.” He gave up on finding something, grabbed his phone and took off towards Bludhaven Prep.

The car ride over was nice, then the rest of the day started. Jason knew he was weird, new kid as a senior, eyes that didn’t know what they were, and that black hair with the one tuft of white streaking across the front. He would be as rich as his big brother if he had a dollar for every time someone asked him about that during the first class alone. By the time the day was over he was so tightly wound he wanted to bust. It didn’t help that some football player had decided that Jason was going to be his target for the year. It started with an ‘accidental’ tray drop at lunch that left yogurt and milk across his new sneakers. Then in study hall a football to the back of the head. Finally, what really broke Jason, was the walk from the front of the school to the back where the cars were lined up. Jason was straggling, hoping that the jock would have gone first, and he might have peace, but no. He started walking around the side of the school, no one around at first, when from the back came the jock and two friends. The guy was cracking his knuckles like he was some gangster in a movie. Jason rolled his eyes and dropped his bag, knowing where this was going.

“You seem to think you can just come in and take over my school,” the jock said. Jason let out an annoyed breath. He hadn’t spoken to a single person that, hadn’t raised his hand once, he had barely listened, why did the fact that he was an inch taller than this guy make the jock so insecure? He didn’t want to deal with it.

“Can you just try and hit me, and we can get this over with?” Jason asked. The jock’s friends let out snorts of laughter and that seemed to enrage their leader, who threw a wild punch that Jason dodged easily and then Jason threw a jab right at the guy’s face. He did forget that he was bigger now, stronger than before. He was surprised by the blood, but the ear shattering crack of bone and the shriek that the guy let out did surprise him. Jason took off, running around the back of the school and jumping into the car to get home. Great, first day and he had probably just broken that guy’s eye socket. He was getting expelled. At least he wouldn’t have to wear the student uniform anymore.

By the time he got back Dick was already on the phone with the headmaster. Dick pointed at the couch and Jason sat, not wanting to but he knew it was pointless to argue. Dick had literally brought him back to life, he could sit there and take his punishment without argument. He had just shattered a guy’s face; he probably deserved the tongue lashing.

“-I understand but you have to remember that there were no cameras, no actual witnesses other than this Mr. Harrison’s friends, it seems like a he said, he said situation which will not make anyone on the school board happy. Especially when I pull my funding for the new football stadium,” he said. Jason rolled his eyes. Dick had definitely graduated from the Bruce Wayne school for getting out of shit. “Of course, I am glad that we could work this out. And of course, any injuries will be taken care of, but no mention of who the fight was with? Thank you so much for your discretion.” Dick hung up and rounded on Jason. “Care to explain?”

“Some football asshole decided I was too tall for him,” Jason said. Dick pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to remember why he had decided to take in a teenager. “Did you have to break his orbital bone?”

“I forgot about my biceps being the size of my head,” he mumbled. Dick actually chuckled at that. “He threw the first punch…”

“You look uninjured…”

“You think I would let an idiot like that hit me?” Jason looked shocked. Dick sighed and looked at his watch. Then at his phone clock, like it would be much different.

“I am going to be late for my date with Barbara, stay here tonight, get your homework done, there’s food in the fridge and tomorrow we can talk about this more,” Dick said, buttoning his suit jacket and grabbing his wallet. Jason just nodded, pulling out a book that he had gotten at the school library. That at least had more options than Dick’s place. Dick took one more glance at Jason before leaving.

Around 9PM Jason was starting to climb the walls. He had this nervous energy and he didn’t know how to relieve it. He tried to think of something. Parkour? No, he was angry. Video arcade? No, not enough movement. Then he remembered the underground fights that he and Batman had once raised over in his old neighborhood, Crime Alley. He figured the fights were probably back by now, they wouldn’t be down for long. He knew he couldn’t show his face, Dick didn’t need the stress of him being caught in Gotham, or God forbid Bruce finding him, so headed down to the garage that Dick kept on site. He started searching the sports equipment that he had, grabbing an old school goalie’s mask. Very Friday the 13th, and hey, his name was Jason. But the white, no, that wasn’t his color. He looked around, finding some spray paint in another section and he painted the mask red. Nice. He grabbed an old black hoodie, shoved the mask inside the pocket and taking one of Dick’s bikes.

It took him about ten minutes to remember how to drive a motorcycle, apparently death didn’t keep memories of driving in his brain. He almost wiped out five or six times before finally crossing over into Robbinsville and then up into Crime Alley. He stowed the bike behind a dumpster near a Big Belly Burger before heading into a laundromat. He walked to the counter that was helmed by a short woman with dyed blonde hair.

“I’ve come for some good smelling socks,” he said. He hoped these types didn’t get change their code phrases, it was the only one he remembered. The woman nodded and pressed a button, motioning to the side door that said ‘Employees Only’. Jason went through the door and down the stairs, donning his mask. The guy waiting at the bottom looked him over.

“50$ to watch, 100$ to fight,” he said. Jason nodded and turned over his 100$ and the guy pointed him to another woman with a clipboard. Jason headed over to her.

“Name?” she asked. Jason scrambled. “Name?” she repeated, louder and more annoyed. The other fights nearby were starting to watch him. They weren’t too much bigger than him, he might have a good chance. Either way he could blow off some steam.

“Mask of the Red Death,” he said. She cocked an eyebrow and shook her head.

“Too long, you’re Red Mask,” she said. He nodded, very creative. Poe would be proud. “You’re finding Butch first.” She pointed to a large man with muscles in places Jason didn’t know you could have them. They were for show, not strength, not fighting. This guy wanted to look good, not actually be good. Jason watched him as they entered the makeshift cage. He circled the guy, letting him come to him. Butch threw a punch, Jason dodged behind him, and Spartan kicked him in the ass, sending him tripping into the glorified fence surrounding them. The fight went on for only a few more seconds before the guy came back, trying to kick Jason, who slide to the side, grabbed the guy’s leg and slammed his elbow into his knee. There was a crunch and Butch fell, howling in pain, unable to get up. Jason was announced the winner and stepped out, heading towards a back door to get some air. As he opened the door to the basement walkout, he heard a commotion and turned, seeing cops starting to come down the stairs. He knew they would be going to the back door next, so he took off, mask going back in his pocket and climbing a nearby fire escape until he was high enough to hide in the shadows above the streetlight. Once the cops that found the back were inside, he climbed down, running to the alley where he’d left the bike. He was just moving the dumpster again when the back door to the Big Belly Burger opened, making him jump in surprise and slice his hand on an exposed piece of metal inside the trash. He let out a grunt and the teenage girl in uniform turned to face him.

“Are you ok?” she asked, walking over. Jason was gripping his hand, trying to stop the bleeding so he could get the bike and leave. “Hold on, I have a bandage.” She pulled out a roll box of bandaids from the apron pocket.

“Clumsy are you?” Jason asked, trying to distract from the annoying ache in his palm. She chuckled and walked over, pulling a cotton ball out of the packet.

“No, we have a griller who thinks he’s a ninja, any time he gets his hand on a knife I have to be ready to stitch him up,” she said. She started dabbing his hand and Jason once again hissed. “What music do you like?”

“I uh…I don’t know, I used to like metal, some alternative stuff, but went through a change this summer…not sure anymore,” he said, confused. “Why?”

“Well, one this is distracting you from me disinfecting this thing, so you don’t get tetanus, and two, you live in Crime Alley, don’t be a stereotype. If you think you might like something different than ‘I grew up in the slums, so I just listen to angry shit’ try Noah Kahan, you look like a guy who’d like him, or Hozier.” He could tell she was just throwing out names to keep him listening and he appreciated it. “What’s your name?”

“Jason,” he said. She nodded and smiled, finishing with the bandage.

“Nice to meet you, I’m YN,” she said. “Want some help with the dumpster or are all those muscles working?” She winked at him, and he actually blushed, glad it was dark and she might not notice.

“Sure,” he said. Together they moved the dumpster, and he got the bike. He waved quick before driving back to the penthouse. He got as far as the elevator door, when it opened there was Dick.

“So, I see you had an interesting evening,” he said, holding up his phone where video of Jason breaking Butch’s leg was being shown. Of course, Dick would realize it was him, he would know that move anywhere, Dick had taught it to him.

“I needed to get out, blow off some steam, forget who I was for a bit,” he said. Dick nodded.

“Good, then what I just signed you up for will be perfect,” he said. Jason looked at him, eyebrows raised. “You’re not a member of the theater program, auditions for Hamlet are Friday.”

“You can’t be serious,” Jason said, heading out of the elevator.

“I am very serious, you go to school, go to practice, be someone else for awhile when you’re there, and then you come home and you stay here or I am calling Bruce and sending you back to him, see how Batman deals with your shit,” he said. Jason sighed, heading up to his room. Fine, theater, he’d wanted to do that before Bruce pulled him from high school. How bad could it be?

#jasontodd #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #redhood #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #notromeo

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badcaseofcasey · 6 days

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one single thread of gold (tied me to you) | Part 4 aka: my Steddie soulmates au, Eddie's POV Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |Steve's POV

Eddie wasn’t sure how he thought Steve Harrington would end up coming back into his life - he wasn’t even sure Steve would come back into his life - but pinned against the wall of a boat shack at the end of a broken beer bottle was not it.

The past 24 hours of Eddie’s life had been something out of a horror movie. He wasn’t sure his heart rate had slowed down since he first saw Chrissy’s eyes glazed over in his trailer. And now, here comes his soulmate tagging along with the most unexpected combination of people he’s ever seen - including Dustin Henderson, one of newest recruits to Hellfire Club, and Max Mayfield, who moved into Forest Hills not that long ago.

He was reluctant to admit that his body instinctively knew to calm down once he realized his soulmate was there, instead choosing to believe it was down to the group of people who - against all odds - heard his story and believed him.

The next few days were… strange. Steve seemed intent not to mention their words at all, so Eddie followed his lead. There was a moment when Steve took off his sweater to dive into Lovers Lake where Eddie was able to see his words, clear as day. If he wasn’t convinced that Steve was his soulmate by then, that would have confirmed it.

Because much as Eddie hated to admit it, Steve had surprised him. Sure, Dustin and the others had spent the better part of the past six months trying to convince him that Steve was a good guy (no, really!), but he never expected it to actually be true. He said as much to Steve, and reveled briefly in Steve’s shy acceptance of the compliment. If it hadn’t been so dark in that godforsaken forest, he would’ve sworn Steve had blushed.

They had made it back topside and now he and Dustin were goofing around while the rest of the crew were setting up supplies and weapons. His eyes drifted briefly to where Robin and Steve were putting together molotov cocktails - a sentence he never would have even considered thinking before today. The distraction was long enough for Dustin to get a drop on him, knocking him to his knees. Eddie rolled sideways to avoid Dustin’s “spear,” laughing along with Dustin.

Dustin sat next to him. “All right, old man, catch your breath.”

Eddie gasped, pretending to be appalled. “Watch who you’re calling ‘old man,’ whippersnapper.”

Dustin looked out at the field and his hand drifted down to run his fingers up and down his forearm, where Eddie knew his soulmate’s words were. Eddie had learned all about Suzie within their first few sessions of Hellfire; it was a point of pride that Dustin got his words before any of the other members of the party did.

“Thinking about Suzie?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah,” Dustin answered, eyes still looking out into the distance. “I always worry when we’re about to do something like this. What if something… happens to me? We’ve kept Suzie out of this so far, so she has no idea that we’re facing off against literal monsters at least once a year at this point. If something happens to me, what will Suzie think?”

Eddie shook his head and sat up. “I hate that you’re having to worry about things like that. You’re only fourteen, man.”

“Yeah, but look at it this way,” Dustin said. “At least I know, for sure, that there’s someone out there for me. That no matter how bad things get, there’s something to look forward to. It gives me hope, and a reason to keep going when I think I can’t.”

Eddie smiled sadly. “That’s quite the bright side.”

“I try,” Dustin said. “What about you, do you have your words?”

Eddie weighed the options of lying to Dustin right now, but decided it wasn’t worth it. Besides, it felt like it would be a betrayal of the trust Dustin had clearly put in him. “Yeah, I do.”

“Really?” Dustin asked. “You never talk about them.”

“For good reason,” Eddie said, bumping his shoulders into Dustin’s. “Not all of us get our words from our adorable girlfriend from camp.”

“Well, whoever it is,” Dustin said, nudging Eddie back. “It can be a reason for you, too. You know, to keep going.”

“Hey, I already have enough of a reason,” Eddie stood and said, “‘86 is gonna be my year, right?”

Dustin smiled and accepted Eddie’s hand up.

“And Dustin,” Eddie said, seriously. “You know that one of us would take care of letting Suzie know. We know she’s important to you. She wouldn’t just be left in the dark.”

“Thanks, Eddie,” Dustin said. “You know, if you told me who your soulmate is, I could make the same promise.”

“Nice try,” Eddie said, ruffling the top of Dustin’s ghillie suit. “Come on, let’s go see if we’ve got our marching orders.” He slung an arm across Dustin’s shoulders as he steered them back towards the group.

Eddie couldn’t get Dustin’s words out of his head, even as they all made their way back into the Upside Down. Is that how Steve thought about him as he went through everything that Eddie gathered had happened over the past few years? Did Steve think about him at all?

The group was getting ready to split up, and Eddie was caught with a sudden need to talk to Steve. He called out his name as the group headed out towards the Creel House, then stopped when Steve turned to look at him.

There was so much to say, so much they had both left unsaid. Eddie didn’t know how he could possibly put all of what he was feeling in that moment into words, but here he was, about to watch Sir Steve walk away from him again, only this time, the dragons were so much more real. He just knew he couldn’t let Steve leave without saying… something.

“Make him pay.”

Shit. He probably could have done better than that.

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#my fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie #soulmate au #Stranger Things #met as kids au #steddie soulmate au #finally getting back to this one!

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gravidwithlore · 3 months

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Thought about this a while ago and just remembered it, but: someone who was mind-controlled, hypnotized, etc into being a mindless horny breeder; captured by some mysterious creature in a cave and fed some strange fluids that kept them pliant and horny and happily cumming out egg after egg right alongside a whole host of hypnotized breeders.

Then, this person is saved. The creature is defeated, their nest cleared, and everyone is taken care of as they birth the last of their eggs and slowly remember themselves. They're ushered back into their old lives, or even new lives if they want them. At some point a support group is formed, and most of the former 'breeders' meet up about once a month to help each other process the trauma of what happened to them (some cant stomach the memories, try to push down their feelings, and try to move on and pretend it never happened at all). All are glad that the ordeal has ended, the creature defeated and gone, and they're in control of their lives once again. All except.... one.

They try to bring it up to the rest of the group about a year after they're set free, but everyone looks at them like they've just grown 5 heads. Of course they don't miss the part of being drugged and kept in a dank dark cave, never to see the sun. That part was shitty, and just plain fucked up. That part still makes them angry and sad, remembering those months, or maybe years? It's still so hard to keep the timeline right. But they find they miss the breeding part, being fucked more full than they've ever felt in their life, feeling pleasure they never could have imagined, being kept and taken care of, but most of all being so round and full of life.

And they begin to feel so guilty about it. They've been given a second chance at life, and on paper its a good life, a very good life. But then sometimes in the middle of the night, their intestines shifts, and in their half-asleep state it reminds them the eggs shifting, almost due in their heavy low belly; and before they know it they're already quietly whining and rubbing their thighs together, needy and wet and... and empty.

They've considered just going down to the local tavern and bending over for the first taker, or if their lucky, takers, but something in them doesn't feel right when they think of having children, even if they were to give the child up for adoption. Ethically it doesn't feel right to bring a child into the world to temporarily satisfy this urge, this primal need, leftover from when they were kidnapped and drugged and kept prisoner and breeder in a deep cave by a monster that went too far in following its instincts. They've resigned themselves to keeping this urge secret and unresolved, becoming more withdrawn by the day, weeping and desperately failing to satisfy their body by night.

Until one day, they pass by a witches shop. The witch's shop is generally avoided unless someone in town really needs something or a rich customer is coming from out of town. They have passed by the witch's shop before, avoiding it like everyone else, but this day theres a new sign out front: INCUBATOR NEEDED. APPLY INSIDE.

They blush and keep walking, hoping that no one noticed them staring so intensely at the sign. It takes them 3 days to gather up the courage to actually go into the witch's shop, resume in hand. She recognizes them immediately, knows them as one of the victims of that horrible brainwashing monster that was killed over a year ago. She doesn't have to say it out loud, but with a knowing wink they know that she knows exactly what they've been craving. She explains the job, basically some ingredients and materials, most ingredients and materials actually, grow best when incubated in a living host, and the best place to incubate something in a living host is in their womb, either one they were born with or one magically placed there. Usually she would do it herself, but business has been booming, and she A) is having a hard time keeping certain things in stock and B) its just not very convenient when you're also trying to rush around and run your own business.

Theyre offered the job immediately, as they were the only applicant, and the witch is in a bit of a rush to catch up with their orders. The next day they go back to the shop and the witch starts them off with something they're familiar with, eggs. After preparing them mentally and physically, the witch offers them something to take the edge off. An aphrodisiac, a sedative, something to help it all feel better. They shake their head, they need to be sure the pleasure is theirs, just theirs. They need to be sure that this is what they really want, still a bit scared their desperate fantasy can never be their reality. The witch nods, understanding, and opens up a portal, and a tentacled being from beyond time and space appears and immediately grabs them and begins to fuck them. Filling them deeper and wider than they've ever been before, even compared to first monster that bred them. As the first egg slips into their womb, they scream in relief and pleasure. Their eyes glaze over as they roll back in their head as their swelling belly grazes against their thighs. And when the tentacle being cums inside them, rapidly swelling and rounding out their egg-filled belly to the point they look overdue, they cum so hard they pass out.

When they come to, the witch is wiping their forehead with a cool damp rag. They're laid on a comfortable nest filled with pillows and blankets, the air now cool on their still sweat slicked skin. The witch begins to comfortingly rub they're belly, already looking a bit bigger than when they passed out, and they whimper in response. She begins to apologize until she notices how desperately they're rutting their hips in the air, desperate for more friction. It takes them a moment in their fucked out state to realize what they were doing, and they begin to grow red with embarrassment of acting like that in front of their new boss. But she chuckles, and mentions that was part of why it was so difficult running a business and trying to incubate ingredients herself. She reveals she already inserted a plug within you, as an extra precaution to make sure everything stay put until they were ready to lay, and with a wave of her hand the plug begins to pulse, slowly but satisfyingly. Its nothing like the rough and desperate movement of the creature that had brought them so much pleasure in its breeding, but promised to bring them to a satisfyingly slow and steady crescendo.

The witch promises not all jobs will be like this, and normally she'd give a bit of an Orientation first, but she really needed these eggs pronto. Even though they had forgone the offered aphrodisiac, the eggs emitted their own pleasure hormones, meant to keep their host happy during their incubation. And speeding up incubation, which the witch's magic was, really amplified their effects. Eventually they would be trained to do other things to assist the witch, but on their first day they just needed to worry about staying comfortable and growing those eggs.

Once the witch made sure they were comfortable and okay to be left alone, she left to go take care of other things. Alone, they rubbed their belly and smiled as the rapidly growing eggs hit a growth spurt. Their eyes fluttered closed and their head leaned back as they sighed, finally content and full. Their mind hazy in pleasure and hormones, but still very much their own. Warm and comfortable, in a cheery sunlit room, on the pile of blankets and pillows the witch had prepared for them, so full of joy and the relief of validation, and full, so very full, of life again, they began to cry out of pure happiness.

#nbpreg #my ramblings #monster preg

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atlafan · 5 months

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1963 - Part 1

a/n: I have been dying to share this with yall and I'm so excited to finally be doing that. As per usual, this is the only part that will be posted here on Tumblr.All other parts will be posted on Patreon. In fact, Part 2 is already up! And Part 3 will be posted Friday.

Please consider joining my Patreon. It's only $5 a month, and it charges you the following month on the date you joined. So, if you signed up today, you wouldn't get charged again until January 10th. I post 2-4 times per month. If anything is under 10K words, that's usually when I'll post more. I depend on this extra income to help pay bills for essentials. The community there is also incredible and I write and post some of my nastiest smut on there, so if that's what you're looking for, you'll get it!

Warnings: mentions of infertility

Words: 3.8K

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“Every month I keep hoping I’ll have different news for you two,” Doctor Simmons sighed, “unfortunately, I have the same news. Beverly still isn’t with child.”

“We’ve been trying for five months, we’ve been doing everything you’ve said. Beverly drinks the teas, she lays with her legs up after we’re done, I don’t know what else we can do.” Robert was exasperated at this point. He was squeezing his wife’s hand, desperately trying not to let any tears escape his eye ducts.

“You two have exhausted all natural remedies, so I think it’s time we consider IVF.”

Beverly’s eyes widened, and she squeezed Robert’s hand back. She looked at him, panicked.

“Beverly is terribly afraid of needles.”

“You don’t need to decide on anything right now. Take these pamphlets and look over the information. If you two want to have a baby of your own, then this may be the next step.”

“We’ll look it over and have an answer by our next appointment.”

Robert and Beverly are silent on the drive home from the doctor’s office. They’re silent on their way back into their home. Beverly goes right to the kitchen to get started on dinner. Robert comes up next to her and puts her hand over hers.

“We should read the literature on IVF.” He said.

“I have friends who have done it, and all it has done is make their hormones crazy, and not in a fun way. I really don’t want to, Robert. I’ve done everything else, please don’t make me do this.”

“It feels like sometimes I’m the only one who wants to have a baby.”

“How could you say something like that to me? If I’m infertile-“

“You’re not, though. Doctor Simmons has run every type of blood test on you.”

“I know, I was there when the nurse was drawing it after you accused me of secretly taking birth control pills.”

“Well, with how apprehensive you were about having your diaphragm removed, I had to make sure you weren’t doing any self-sabotage.”

“Maybe I’m not getting pregnant because my body knows you don’t trust me.”

“I do trust you, you just weren’t exactly thrilled to start trying.”

“You sprung it on me, I was surprised. We never really discussed having kids before we got married.”

“Sweetheart, why would two people get married if not to have kids?” He chuckled.

“That’s not why I married you. I married you because I love you and I want to be with you.”

“I love you and want to be with you too. But if I hadn’t wanted kids, we could have just shacked up in an apartment in the city. I bought us a house in the suburbs so you could keep house and raise our kids. You like being a housewife, you’ve told me as much.”

“I do. I like making your meals and keeping things tidy, but I also like my free time. I like to go have brunch with the other ladies, and I like going to the library to check out new film analysis journals, and I like being able to go to the movies in the middle of the day. Having a baby means I can’t do those things anymore. At least, not until it’s old enough to go to school. That’s five solid years I’d be putting on hold. And within that five years, I could have at least two more kids. So, now I’m thirty-one with three kids under the age of five, and oh yeah, I’ll still be expected to keep the house clean and cook all your meals and pleasure you even though everything between my legs will feel like sandpaper.”

Robert eyes his wife, then puckers his lips in thought. “Is that how you’ve really been feeling? You haven’t said a word.”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you. You’re not easy to talk to these days. Every time I reach for my clip-belt for my sanitary napkins, I can see you watching with such sadness in your eyes. Motherhood is scary. My friends tell me these horror stories about childbirth. Their husbands barely take a week off from work to be home with them and the baby. So, we’re expected to push these kids out, then get up the next day and get back to our usual routines.”

“Beverly, you’re worried about things women have been doing since the beginning of time. Don’t be such a child. The fear of needles I can understand, but the fear of being a mother makes no sense. I know you and your mother have a strained relationship, but that doesn’t mean history will repeat itself.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “If we’re not pregnant by our next appointment with Doctor Simmons, then I would like us to start IVF. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, dear.”

“Good.” He looked at the ingredients on the counter and grimaced. “I don’t want meatloaf tonight, make something else instead.”

“Yes, dear.”

“I’m gonna go to my office, have a beer, and listen to the ball game. Let me know when dinner is on the table.”

“Yes, dear.”

Robert smiled, grabbed a beer out of the fridge, and walked out of the kitchen. Beverly took a deep breath and rummaged through her cabinets to see what else she could possibly whip up for dinner. It needs to be something heavy enough that Robert won’t feel like making love before bed. Beverly doesn’t have it in her to put on a performance tonight.

Most people get married to have kids. Beverly married Robert because she loved him. He wanted to take care of her. But when the honeymoon phase ended, and he stopped saying thank you to her for all of the things she did to take care of him, she grew resentful. She never let on about it. Robert didn’t need to know how she really felt. Opening up the way she did the day prior wasn’t normal. Things had been good between them for a long time. Beverly didn’t mind stepping into the role of a stay-at-home wife. She was college educated, but it wasn’t like she’d ever be able to carry a position in the profession of her desire. And since she didn’t want to be a schoolteacher or a nurse, Robert asked her to stay home to tend to the house he had bought for them.

At twenty-three, she really hadn’t minded. They met in college, as so many young couples do, and it was love at first sight. Their courtship was disgustingly romantic, and their wedding was a dream come true. The honeymoon phase was so sickly sweet. Beverly enjoyed making breakfast for Robert before he left for work. She enjoyed sending him on his way. She had the whole day to herself. She’d tend to her various gardens, and she’d make sure the house was clean. She’d meet up with friends for brunch. She did everything a good wife was supposed to do.

At twenty-six, Beverly feels like she’s on autopilot. She can’t help but wonder if the reason why older couples have designated sex nights is because the wives must need the six days in between to psych themselves up. She also can’t help but wonder if this is why so many older couples opt for twin beds that can be pushed together or pulled apart.

And it’s not that Beverly doesn’t want kids, she thinks it could be fun, but she’s petrified of essentially raising a child by herself. Robert will stroll in from work, bounce the baby on his knee for all of two minutes, and call it a night. She’s scared for all the reasons she tried to explain the day prior. Robert also didn’t give Beverly a choice five months ago…

“I was thinking of maybe enrolling in graduate school.” Beverly brought up one morning over breakfast. Robert had nearly choked on his toast. “I know what you’re thinking, but you wouldn’t have to pay for a thing. They have stipends for students. I could teach while I learn.”

“I thought you didn’t want to teach.”

“I didn’t want to teach children, but something about having high level discussions with college students makes teaching sound like fun. I miss being in school.”

“What’s the point of a graduate degree in film and media? It’s not like you can do anything with it.”

“A graduate degree could lead to a doctorate, and I could keep teaching. I know female professors are few and far between, especially in the world of film, but it is possible.”

“So, you want to be a career woman, is that what you’re saying?”

“Not exactly. Classes wouldn’t take up all my time. I’d still be able to cook and clean and do everything I’m doing now. Except now when I go to the library, I’ll be doing schoolwork instead of reading for leisure.”

“Seems like you have it all figured out already.”

“Well, I wanted to show you I had thought it all through, that I was serious. You got your graduate degree. If you hadn’t, we never would have met.”

“Exactly. What if some older professor comes on to you? You’d have no way to protect yourself.”

“Oh, Robert, I’ve gone this long without something horrible happening to me on a college campus, I think I’d be fine. Besides, all I’d need to do is show off the lovely rings on my finger.” She grinned. “No one would mess with a married woman whose husband can afford a diamond like this.”

“Did you already sign up for a course?”

“Of course not. I wanted to speak with you first.”

“Good.” He finished his breakfast. “Let me think on it.”

“Alright. Anything in particular you want for dinner tonight?”

“Actually, I was thinking we could go out tonight. I wanted to take you somewhere nice.”

“Oh? For what?”

“Does a husband need a reason to treat his wife to a romantic evening?”

“No.” She giggled. “I’m just excited at the prospect of a spontaneous date night. I’ll pick out a dress I haven’t worn in a while, so it feels like new.”

“I think that’s a great idea.” He stood and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll call you before I leave work, so you’ll know when to expect me.”

“Okay, have a good day, dear.”

Beverly was excited. A night out was a positive sign. Robert wouldn’t take her out just to give her bad news. He was going to say yes to her going back to school.

The restaurant Robert took Beverly to was ritzy. He danced with her, ordered an expensive bottle of wine, and kissed on her shoulder and neck while he sat next to her in their booth. That sickly sweet feeling Beverly thought might be gone was sparking again. When the cheesecake came out, they fed each other bites. It was adorable.

“Are you having a good time tonight?” He asked.

“Yes, this has been such a wonderful evening. Thank you for taking me here.”

“You’re welcome, Bev.” He put his hand over hers and gave it a squeeze. “I’ve been thinking about a lot of things lately, and our conversation this morning was the kick in the pants I needed, so I’m really glad you brought up graduate school.”

“I’m glad it was a positive conversation.” She smiled. “What’s been on your mind?”

“I think it’s time we started trying for a baby.” All of the color drained from Beverly’s face, but her smile never wavered. She couldn’t let on how disappointed she was. “You’re clearly bored with the amount of free time on your hands. I know school seemed like a fun thing to do to pass the time, but I think we’ve waited long enough. We’ll be married almost four years soon, I think we know what we’re doing in the bedroom by now. So, next week, I’m taking you to the doctor to have your diaphragm removed-“

“You called my doctor about something like that?”

“I know it’s a bit awkward, but it’s not a secret that you have one. I went with you when you got it, I should be with you when you have it taken out.”

“Robert…I don’t like that it feels like you’re not giving me a choice. What if I’m not ready?”

“It’s not that you don’t have a choice, I’m just stating that it’s time. You take care of me just fine, you’ll be a great mother. This is what I would rather you do than go back to school. Besides, think of the fun we’ll have while we’re working at it. I got excited at work today thinking about it. I was hoping tonight could be a test run.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I love you so much, Bev, I wanna turn that love into a physical being.”

“Yeah, um, that makes perfect sense. Let’s…let’s make a baby.”

“Really?” He asked, elated.

“Yes, dear.”

Robert kissed his wife. He kissed her in the car. He kissed her on the way into their home, up the stairs, and into their bedroom. He made love to his wife, then called it a night.

After getting her diaphragm removed, they waited until after her next period was done to start trying. This gave Beverly plenty of time to figure out how she could avoid pregnancy. She needed to keep some semblance of control over her own body. Robert wasn’t going to tell her when she was ready. She could decide that on her own.

Lysol douching didn’t work, she knew this. Her sister told her as much. Some of her friends offered her their birth control pills, but she knew they’d show up on a blood test, which Robert made sure she had after the second month of her still not having gotten pregnant. Beverly may have studied film, but she was an excellent student in biology and chemistry as well. She knew how condoms worked. They were coated in spermicides. She just needed to figure out how to coat her vagina with it. She bought condoms and squeezed all of the lubricant and spermicide off them and got a good amount into a bottle. She mixed it with olive oil, what ancient Greeks used to use, and douched with that before having sex with Robert. She knew it would be a long shot if it worked, but she had to try.

When the third month came along, and she still wasn’t pregnant, she took solace is knowing her little concoction was working. And because Robert never went down on her, he’d never smell or taste a thing. When he used his fingers, he just thought she was extra wet, which made him feel proud of himself.

She was perfectly content with her plans until the topic of IVF came up. Even the harshest of solutions couldn’t stand up to IVF injections. She never felt bad for lying to Robert because she didn’t like that he had become so controlling, but she also didn’t think she’d be doing this for so long. The thought of her giving her body up didn’t sound any more appealing five months later.

What was she going to do?

“I really think that one is gonna be a winner.” Robert sighed happily as he relaxed into the bed, looking over at Beverly as she lay with her legs in the air. “I’m glad we waited a couple of days in between, feels like my boys swam stronger.”

“Yes, dear.” Beverly closed her eyes and tried to breathe steadily, counting down the minutes until she could go use the bathroom and cleanse herself.

“I had an idea today. I really want to spare you from having to be injected with needles. I’m a good husband, and good husbands protect their wives. So, since we have about five weeks until our next appointment, I thought we could try one last natural method.”

“I’m listening.” She turned her head to look at him, intrigued.

“I overheard some ladies talking in the break room this morning. It’s the one good thing about having so many female secretaries. Anyways, they happened to be discussing various issues with conceiving. One of them said they had a friend who got pregnant the second she and her husband stopped focusing so much on it. The wife threw herself into different projects, and a month or so later, she was pregnant.”

“Wait.” She sat up on her elbows. “Are you saying I can enroll in a graduate course after all?”

“What, no.” He laughed. “No, I was thinking we could finally redo the patio and have that pool you’ve wanted put in. You’ve been talking about wanting to host more parties for our friends. You always do so well with the workers when we have something done here, and you love gardening. I think you’d really enjoy overseeing a landscaping project.”

“Let me get this straight: you would rather pay thousands of dollars to have our backyard redone, than pay a couple of hundred for me to enroll in a course?”

“I think school would be too stressful. If you’re stressed, then you definitely won’t conceive. Overseeing a project that puts you outside in the sun will be a win-win. Not to mention an old friend of mine is willing to give us a deal on the work.”

“You have a friend that’s a landscaper?”

“Yeah, this guy from my old neighborhood took over his father’s business. He said he could swing by Saturday to take a look at things.”

“It sounds like you’ve already decided that this is what we’re doing.”

“That’s because I have.” He grinned proudly. “Bev, when we got married, I promised to take care of you. This is me taking care of you. Not all husbands would do something like this for their wives. You could at least pretend to be grateful.”

“I am grateful, I’m sorry if my tone suggested otherwise. What time Saturday is he coming over?”

“That I left up to you. I didn’t know if you had any errands or plans with the ladies.”

“Oh.” Well, at least he was trying to be considerate. “Maybe around three? That would give me time to pick up the dry cleaning and stop at the market.”

“Three is perfect. I’ll give him a call tomorrow to let him know.” He looked down at his watch. “You should be good to use the bathroom now.”

“Yes, dear.” Beverly lowers her legs and slings her robe on. Once she’s in the bathroom, she locks the door and flips on the fan. She rummages around in the back of the sink-cabinet until she finds her douching solution. She used some prior to having sex with her husband, but she likes to use it after for good measure. She bites into the heel of her palm as she cleanses herself. It tends to sting from time to time. When she’s done, she looks at herself in the mirror. She knows she can’t keep doing this to herself. She just doesn’t know what else to do.

Beverly loves her weekend clothes. There’s something so freeing about slipping on a pair of high-waist capris, a sleeveless button-up that ties in the front, and a pair of flats. She usually gardens after running her errands, and this is what she typically wears to garden. Robert hates it when Beverly wears pants, or anything form fitting, in public. Why should anyone else be privy to how round her bum is, or how full her thighs are? She’s got a body like Marilyn’s, and that’s something he prefers to keep under wraps.

When the landscaping van pulls up out front, Beverly is in the front yard, planting and mulching. She has the radio going, so she doesn’t pay any mind to the sound of an engine turning off. The man in the landscaping van tilted his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, getting a better glimpse of Beverly. Robert starts walking over, so the man gets out of his van, rounding it to meet his old friend.

“Harry.” Robert smiled and shook the man’s, Harry, hand. “Can you believe it? Got a nice house in a suburb just like the one we grew up in.”

“I never doubted you’d get everything you wanted.” Harry smiled back.

“Seems like the Navy treated you well.”

“Yeah, I can’t complain too much. I didn’t get blown up or lose a limb.”

“And now you own your father’s business. Sorry for your loss, by the way. That’s the drawback of inheritance.”

“Yep. You working for your father?”

“Yes, and proud of it. I’ve got an office with a view, and I can afford to live more than comfortably. Got a beautiful wife, too.” Robert looked around. “Beverly, c’mere!” Beverly stood and dusted off her trousers before making her way over to the two men. “Harry, this is my Beverly.” He put his arm around his wife’s shoulders.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Clark.”

“Likewise, Mr…”

“Styles.” He points behind him with his thumb. “Of Styles Landscaping.”

“Right, of course.”

“Your husband told me you were hoping to have some work done in the backyard.”

“Yes, we’d like the patio redone and to have a pool put in, if possible.”

“Let’s show Harry to the back.” Robert said as he led his wife to the back. Harry followed close behind.

As Beverly observes Harry observing her yard, she can’t help but feel confused. How is this man a friend of Robert’s? Harry’s t-shirt is stretched tight over his chest, not to mention how beefy and muscular his biceps are. His arms are also littered with tattoos.

It takes about twenty minutes for Harry to look around, take some measurements, and get a feel for the land.

“Alright, I can come back on Tuesday with some different mockups of what can be done back here. I can bring my portfolio too, so you can look at some of my past projects. Does Tuesday work for you, Mrs. Clark? I’m assuming you’ll be the one home.”

“Yes, the early afternoon works for me, Mr. Styles.”

“Perfect.” Robert clapped his hands. “H, come in for a bit. We can have a couple beers and catch up while Bev does her gardening out front.”

“Sounds good to me.” Harry nodded, and Robert started to make his way inside. For a split second, Harry tilted his sunglasses down to look at Beverly. “It was nice meeting, Mrs. Clark.” He winked and smirked before catching up with Robert.

Beverly felt her cheeks heat up. She turned and watched Harry walk into her home. Why did he wink at her like that? And why did it make her feel like she just got a B-12 shot?

She shook it off and made her way out front. Gardening will help her clear her head. She’s a married woman. A friend of Robert’s wouldn’t flirt with a married woman…would he?

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