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wlntrsldler · 1 month

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poisoned mercury | now you got me

ix. now you got me by inhaler

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the happy little bubble you and luke made for yourselves inevitably bursted a few days after you made it official– though if you asked luke, you rejected his advances, which always earned an eye roll from you followed by a long kiss to his lips that had him silent for the next five minutes. you knew he was milking the hell out of you saying no to his question until he let you listen to the song, but you were his and he was yours regardless of the title.

you stared at yourself in the mirror, blushing as you ran your fingers down the marks on your neck. you added a turtleneck under your chb shirt, not having enough energy to cover up the marks on your neck with makeup, and you definitely didn’t have the energy to explain to people how you got them. thankfully, the weather cooperated with you today. it was unusually cold for the summer, a slight breeze entering your room from your opened window. as you continued to get ready for the day, your phone buzzed with a text from your dad.

‘hey kid, can you come to my office real quick?’

you hadn’t spoken to your dad in weeks, not since he stormed out of the cabin after finding out what started the fight with your teammate. this was the longest you’d gone without speaking to him. you texted a thumbs up and made your way out of your room.

luke was sitting on the coffee table in the middle of everyone, looking at you with wondering eyes, “where are you going?”

“my dad wants to talk.”

“do you want me to come with you?” luke got up from where he sat. you told him last night that you’d been avoiding your dad as much as possible, and he did the same with you. as much as you guys butted heads, luke knew that it was taking a toll on you. you shared that you were scared about what would become of your relationship with your dad. luke, being as close to his mom as you were with your dad, understood. he knew what it was like to feel like your biggest supporter was giving up on you. it wasn’t a feeling he’d wish on his worst enemy, and definitely not a feeling he’d ever wish on you.

“no, it’s fine,” you clenched your jaw, shaking your head.

luke’s shoulders slumped over as he stuttered in his actions to sit back down, “oh, okay–uh, let me know if you need anything.”

you nodded and waved a small goodbye before exiting the cabin. your heart was pounding the entire time you made your way to your dad’s office. a lot of things had been weighing on you this summer– your probation, a possible dent on your record, your estrangement from your parents, luke– and it was a lot to handle. camp half blood was supposed to keep you away from the problems that existed in your day-to-day life, but it seemed to follow you.

you entered your dad’s office to see him typing away on his laptop. his eyebrows raised when you walked in, motioning for you to shut the door. he closed his laptop and placed it in one of the drawers of his desk. he took a deep breath, “hey, kid.”

“hi, dad,” you replied, suddenly feeling like a little kid again. you sat on the usual chair in front of his desk and leaned back, “what’s up?”

“i, uh,” he cleared his throat, “i just wanted to say i’m sorry for how we left things. i shouldn’t have stormed out like that. i was just angry. but not at you, at myself for making you feel like you had to fight these battles for me.”

he leaned across his desk to hold your hands, “you’re my kid, y’know. my job is to protect you, not the other way around. so i apologize if i ever made you feel like you had to come to my defense.”

“and i’m sorry for being mia the last few weeks,” he chuckled, squeezing your hands, “i’ve been in contact with my lawyers and they’re working on making sure the charges against you don’t stick so i’ve been pretty busy with that.”

“you think it’ll get sorted out?” you asked.

“yeah, don’t worry about it. it’s finishing up and i think you might even be able to play this season,” your dad smiled. “but i have to deal with a pr crisis right now that sprung up on me this morning.”

your shoulders relaxed at your dad’s words. at least your probation was getting sorted out. that was one less thing to worry about. you tugged on the sleeves of your turtleneck as you got comfortable on your chair, “what’s the pr crisis?”

he sighed, pulling out his laptop, “something with the band.”

you hoped your dad didn’t notice the slight widening of your eyes. because you hadn’t been talking to your dad, he didn’t know about the recent developments between you and luke. you two didn’t show much pda outside of the cabin, scared that one of the campers would break their nda and post a picture of the two of you. neither of you were ready to tell the world about you two yet. it’s too soon. you didn’t even have the “what’s going to happen to us after summer?” conversation yet.

“what happened?”

“some pap pictures leaked. it’s of this new actress in hollywood and a guy leaving her hotel room. the press is reporting that the guy is luke. it looks a lot like him and you know the media– they run any story that’ll get them clicks even if it’s not fully fact-checked as long as they add the word ‘allegedly’ to the article,” he rolled his eyes, turning his computer to face you. “nobody knows where the pictures came from, so we don’t know if it’s actually luke or not, but i’ve been on the phone with may and their team all morning trying to do damage control. she’s telling the guys about the pictures right now.”

at first glance, your heart dropped to your stomach. the guy did look an awful lot like luke. the rational part of you knew that this was probably taken before the two of you met because you’ve seen him every day since and he was practically imprisoned at chb all summer, but then you thought of your impromptu trip to achilles’ arcade and it made you want to throw up. if luke could sneak away with you like that, it would’ve been easy for him to do the same when he was alone.

were the nights he didn’t spend in your bed because he was “writing” just an excuse to sneak off to meet up with the girl in the picture? she was gorgeous, after all. blonde, tall, the perfect new hollywood star. they’d make such a great power couple. the two rising stars in their respective industries, the perfect pair.

the boy’s face, who may or may not be luke, was covered by his hood, but you can clearly see that he was kissing the girl deeply, with his hand placed on the curve of her back. the next picture was them with their fingers laced together as she led him into the hotel, giggling at something he said. the guy had a similar build as luke and dressed the same way as he did when he was having a lazy day– sweatpants, hoodie, and converses.

bile made its way up your throat as you continued to scroll through the pictures. you looked at the time stamp of the photos and closed your eyes, wincing, when you saw that they were taken two days ago. luke didn’t sleep in your room two days ago, nor was he in the cabin. he showed up the next day saying that he was in the studio, trying to finish up the song so you would officially accept being his girlfriend.

you squinted at a close-up picture of the pair, zoning in on the guy's hand. you breathed out a sigh of relief, fingers immediately clutching the ring that rested on your index finger. you turned the laptop back to your dad, “that’s not luke.”

his eyebrows shot up, looking between you and his laptop screen, “how do you know?”

“look at his rings,” you pointed at the bands around the guy’s fingers, “luke doesn’t wear a ring on his ring finger anymore. and look, the guy has a ring there and it’s gold.”

“how are you so sure? what if he just decided to wear it that day?”

“trust me,” you waved off, “he’s particular about his jewelry. he stopped wearing one on his ring finger a while ago. and luke doesn’t wear gold jewelry.”

your dad narrowed his eyes at you suspiciously, shutting his laptop, “i didn’t realize you were that close to luke that you had his accessories memorized.”

“ah– well,” you cleared your throat, looking down at your feet. you felt caught. “s’your fault, really. you made us live together.”

“is there something you need to tell me, kid?”

you got up from your seat, quickly making your way to the door, “geez, dad, i didn’t realize the time! i promised clar that i’d help her with camp duties, so i gotta go. thanks for all your help on the probation and permanent record thing. you’re the best!”

you didn’t bother to turn around to see your dad’s reaction to your excuse. you knew that he could see right through you.

you dad called from behind you, his joking tone camouflaged by his “dad” voice, “tell castellan that if he does anything wrong, i’ll kill him and his career!”

“love you!”

your dad shook his head, biting back the smile on his face, “love you too, kid.”

as you were rushing back to your cabin, you ran smack dab into luke who was frantic, worry evident on his features. his eyes widened when he saw you and he placed his hands on your shoulders, steadying you so you didn’t fall at the impact.

“five star,” he sighed out, out of breath, “i don’t know if mr. d told you but those pictures aren’t me, i swear!”

you had two options– you could one, tell him that you knew it wasn’t him and put him out of his misery or two, you could pretend to not believe him and make him sweat. luke looked like he was about to get on his knees and beg you to believe him. you wouldn’t be surprised if he made a powerpoint presentation listing the reasons why it wasn’t him in those pictures.

you pursed your lips, “i saw the pictures luke.”

“and they weren’t me!” he said, exasperated. his eyebrows knitted in anxiety, as he chewed on the nail of his thumb, “you gotta believe me, babe. i don’t know who that guy is but i can promise you it’s not me.”

you tried not to swoon at the pet name that left his lips. “how do i know that? you weren’t home the night those pictures were taken.”

“i know it looks bad, but look,” he ran a hand through his curls. “i finished the song the boys wrote and you can go listen to it right now, but then that night, i got caught up with a song idea about you and i stayed up all night to write it. you can listen to the demo right now if you want. you can listen to all the demos you want if that gets you to believe me. i think the recordings have timestamps too, so you’ll see i was in there all nigh–”

“down, pretty boy,” you couldn’t keep it up any longer. luke looked like he was two seconds away from bursting into tears and as much as you wanted to hear him yap, you didn’t have it in your heart to drag it on. you chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck. you pressed a soft kiss to his lips and he instantly relaxed at the feeling.

your lips moved in sync as his hands found your waist, pressing you closer to him. his tongue licked your bottom lip, asking for permission, which you gladly granted. it was the sound of clarisse and chris inside the cabin, tapping against the windows that pulled you and luke apart. you both turned to look at your friends who all had shit-eating grins on their faces.

travis and connor were behind the couple, shaking their heads, “get a fucking room, you heathens.”

luke flipped them off and pressed a softer, more innocent kiss on your lips before you spoke. “i knew it wasn’t you. just wanted to see you sweat a little bit.”

“that was mean,” he pouted, but he couldn’t fight off the smile on his face. he always seemed to smile after he kissed you. it made you want to kiss him again, starting a never-ending chain of kisses that would surely lead the two of you to be unproductive for the rest of the day. “i was so scared, five star, you have no idea. the fucker looked so much like me.”

you laughed, playing with the curls on the nape of his neck, “trust me, i know. my heart dropped to my ass when i first saw them, but i knew it wasn’t you.”

“how’d you know?”

“the rings,” you flushed, thinking about how crazy you must sound knowing these small details about him.

“shit, five star,” he whistled, surprised. there was a warmth in his chest that spread throughout the rest of his body at the idea of you paying attention to these things about him. “nothing can get past you, huh? i didn’t even notice that.”

“yeah, at least you know not to sneak around behind me because i’ll find out,” you teased, lacing your fingers together as you slowly made your way up the steps of the cabin. luke stood in his spot, pulling on your hand to get you to to turn around. you walked over to him, confused, “what’s up?”

“y’know i wouldn’t think of doing that, right?” he asked, voice suddenly serious. “i would never do that to you.”

your eyes softened as a wistful look appeared on your face. you kissed his cheeks, relishing in the feeling of luke wrapping his arms around your torso in a tight hug. you pressed your face into the crook of his neck, placing a feather-light kiss on his jugular, “yeah, yeah.”

“‘m serious,” he pulled away, holding your face in his hands. he was staring at you intently, making sure that you were hearing his words. you never gave him an indication that you didn’t trust him, but luke knew that it was better to tell you these things straight up if he wanted to have a real relationship with you. he knew it takes a toll on the people he dates (not that he’s had any relationships like what he has with you) to see these bullshit stories online. if he was in your position, he knew the reassurance would help. luke placed a kiss on your forehead, “i wouldn’t do anything to mess this up if i can help it, five star.”

you let out a forced laugh, awkwardly shifting in his grasp, “yeah, given that my dad controls your contract, i know you wouldn’t.”

luke frowned, “not because of that.”

“uh huh,” you said, feeling too vulnerable right now. you didn’t know how to handle this situation, so you coped with humor, “he likes you so don’t worry, your contract extension is practically in the bag.”

“y/n.”

you tensed at luke’s use of your real name. he never called you by your name. he always called you by the nickname he gave you when he first met you. five star. you knew luke wasn’t in the mood to joke around. “luke, it’s fine.”

“i don’t want to pick a fight,” he sighed, playing with the hem of your shirt, “but i just need to hear you say that you believe me when i say that. i wouldn’t cheat on you or do anything to make you feel like i ever would.”

your voice shook as you spoke, “what if you’re just saying that because it’s still summer and we see each other every day? what’s gonna happen when i’m back in school and you’re out in the world traveling and living your rockstar life?”

luke’s heart broke at your words. did you really think that he would forget about all of this once september rolled around? as if you didn’t consume his thoughts every day since he met you, as if he didn’t count down the minutes until he got to see you again when he was forced to be away from you because he had things to do, as if he didn’t have a sinking feeling in his stomach when you weren’t next to him. he was starting to think you didn’t understand just how deeply he felt about you even when you assured him that you did understand.

“i’m not gonna lie, long distance is gonna be hard,” he said, “but we can figure it out. i know it.”

“i never knew you were such an optimist, castellan.”

luke laughed at that. if only you knew how many times he psyched himself out of making a move on you because of his own pessimism. it only changed recently, when he finally decided to say fuck it and go for it. “for you? always. i’d be stupid not to be. you’re a good thing, five star.”

luke fucking castellan. you pressed your head into his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat against your face. he gave you a tight squeeze, placing a kiss on the crown of your head. he loved having you like this, all soft and cuddly with him like you didn’t want to let him go. he should be scared at how quickly he was falling for you, how attached he already felt.

you kissed his lips again, pulling away with a smile, “so babe huh?”

“babe, baby, sweetheart,” he mumbled, leaning over to kiss you again. “anythin’ you want.”

#frances writes #poisoned mercury #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #percy jackson #percy jackson fanfic

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earthtooz · 1 year

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. . . LOVE ME HARDER !

in which: it's been two weeks. you have a resignation letter in hand and a grumpy itoshi sae who is not at all pleased at your decision.

˗ˏˋ masterlist series: first part | next part ´ˎ˗

collab series ft. sixosix earthtooz aanobrain . . . !

warnings: gn!manager!reader, pining, reader and sae r in their 20s, tension, so much pining, unedited towards the end but that's bc i have no time AHH.

"are you sure?"

you stare sadly at the two weeks resignation letters in your boss’ hand, blinking once, then twice as a heavy feeling of regret sinks in your chest, further powered by the jumbled thoughts in your brain, screaming at you to say both ‘yes’ and ‘no’. with an exhale, you listen to your heart and nod your head decisively.

“i’m sure,” you affirm. sae’s face flashes briefly in your mind and you cringe internally at the look of betrayal you can see so clearly. still, you grit your teeth and don’t back out.

“we can give you a raise or extra company benefits if that’s more motivation to stay?” instinctively, a materialistic part of you is ready to give in to the offers, but the rational part of you begs otherwise. “we haven’t had a worker like you who has been able to cooperate with sae this well.”

“thank you for the opportunity, sir, but i think it’s time to move on.”

your boss gives you a pointed look before putting down your papers with a sigh. “if that’s the case then i can’t stop you. you were a good asset, y/n, good luck with your future endeavours.”

with a thank you, you make your way out of the office, a heavy dread settling in your chest as you think about how sae would take this news. how would you tell him? you’re not that heartless that you’d just leave without letting him know but what would you say? ‘hey these are my last two weeks as your manager, lol’.

“you’re late,” a voice interrupts your thoughts and you snap back into reality, greeted with the face of itoshi sae, his usual apathy masking the subtle displeasure you can hear in his tone. you ignore the way your heart jumps simply at the sight of him.

maybe putting in those resignation forms was for the best.

“sorry. had to speak to management,” you mutter out.

the magenta-haired athlete narrows his eyes in suspicion but before he could ask you another question, you sit down in front of him and open up your diary with the schedule for the day. “okay. let’s see what needs to get done today.”

you ignore the way sae stares at you like he has something to say and you hope he’s not observant enough to see that you’re avoiding looking him in the eye as much as possible because you’d know your heart would give out from the pressure.

two weeks. two more weeks and you’ll escape itoshi sae forever, no matter how much you don’t want to.

***

you’re on the sidelines where sae is practising, furiously typing out an email on your laptop when your name gets called out, the voice coming from the entranceway of the field. it’s your boss but there’s a man of average height right behind him, dressed smartly with glasses and equipment fit for an office worker.

he must be sae’s new manager after you’re gone. bless him.

straightening up, you close the lid of your laptop before setting it aside, getting up to greet him with a small hop in your step. you ignore the way sae has stopped practising at the entrance of someone new. feeling of his inquisitive gaze burning into your every move lingers as you approach the visitors.

“y/n, this is girolan dabadie, he’ll be sae’s manager after you leave,” your boss states, gesturing to the man behind who gives you a humble wave, paired with a friendly smile. oh poor soul. you can tell he does not have the guts to work with sae.

then again, not a lot of people do. you included, which is why you’re resigning.

“hi, i’m y/n, pleasure to meet you.”

“pleasure to meet you too,” he says.

“we just thought it’d be nice for girolan here to get prepared with the ropes of his role before being thrown in the deep end next week.”

“of course, i’ll be more than happy to get you started, it is a tough job after all,” you say lightheartedly despite the last part being a sugarcoating of how truly draining it is to be sae’s manager.

and, speaking of the devil, you don’t like the way your gut churns, turbulent waves settling in your stomach in a way that makes you feel funny when you look sae in the eye. he’s staring at you so very intensely that if you hadn’t looked away immediately after, you suspect you would have combusted on the spot. there are questions that he wants answer to and judging by the glimpse of betrayal in his eyes, you can tell that it is not going to be a conversation you’ll like having.

for now, you grit your teeth and put on a professional front. this is why you were leaving, because sae looks at you too casually, too much, and you, similarly, know him too much, too casually.

leaving the training field, you can’t help but feel like you’re also leaving something meaningful behind.

“everyday you need to have the player’s schedules. most of them have promotions which you need to manage, so for example, sae has a shoot for adidas abibas next week. all you have to do is go to the shoot with him and foresee everything, the set managers there have that all under control, the only thing you need to control is itoshi sae himself,” you tell girolan halfway into the tour, now in your office space where you had schedules hung up everywhere. “these cabinet files are full of contracts, tax files, cash flows, all of the stuff that i have no doubt you’re familiar with.”

“all of these just for itoshi sae?” girolan asks, looking at the stacks of paper on your desk.

you sigh, slumping. “that’s what happens when you manage one of the most in-demand soccer players. don’t tell anyone but, it’s easier to manage the whole team than sae himself.”

eventually, the tour continues and you lead him through the rest of the spaces that he should know by heart. when you think you’re done with the introduction, it’s around 4:30, and you see girolan out to the main entrance.

“any questions? you can have my contact so that if you have any queries or concerns, you can reach out to me over the week,” you say, handing the new manager your card.

“i appreciate the crash course today, but admittedly i’m still a little nervous,” girolan confesses, “i mean, i saw first hand just how busy you are… any personal advice for the job?”

“just… good luck. it’s a handful but it’s a good experience nevertheless. at the end of the day, i’m more grateful for this role than i am not.”

“if that’s the case, why are you leaving?”

you widen your eyes, unprepared for that question. girolan catches on to your shock and immediately begins to apologise, afraid that he’s overstepped. “no, no, it’s okay, it’s a valid question. i’m leaving for personal reasons, ones that i can’t really go into.”

“i see.”

after that, you briefly say goodbye to one another, exchanging pleasantries before he leaves the building. you sigh in relief, looking down at your watch to see that you only had 20 minutes now to catch up on the outstanding work you left behind, an incredibly unrealistic time limit. you can already tell you’re going to work overtime tonight.

before you can dwell too much on that fact, a voice pops up from behind you.

“personal reasons?”

you turn around to see sae leaning against a wall behind you, completely unimpressed and disappointed. you hate it when he looks at you like that.

“yes, sae, for personal reasons,” you mutter, hardening your defences before walking past him. that doesn’t shake him off though, nothing ever does.

“and what personal reasons could that be?” he asks, not batting an eye to being waved off by you like that.

you walk a little faster. “they are personal reasons, sae, meaning that they’re none i should ever tell you.”

pushing open the door to your office with more force required, you don’t see the way sae flinches slightly at your outburst, furrowing his brows at how uncharacteristic you were acting. he doesn’t shy away though, following you into your office. you continue sorting through papers like he’s not there and that irks him even more.

“but how could you not tell me? i thought you resigning would be an important topic to bring up sooner rather than later.”

“i didn’t think you’d care.”

“so?” he spits. “i would rather you tell me than me finding out myself by seeing some random who is apparently my new manager.”

you cringe at his words. “okay well, i’m resigning as your manager. happy? be nice to girolan.”

sae groans. “were you just going to let me find out by myself in a week if today hadn’t happened? were you ever going to tell me?”

you shrug, punching some holes through some papers before adding them to an (already filled) binder. “maybe.”

sae grabs your wrist and you jump from the contact, as if his touch was lava and burns. the magenta-haired doesn’t miss your reaction, in fact, he narrows his eyes at you when he notices. you make the mistake of looking him in the eye and the churn in your stomach is back, heart skipping a beat as your hand goes limp in his.

this must be what they call a ‘moment’ in the movies, because you’re definitely having one right now, and it’s getting harder to keep your resolve up.

“sae, please leave. i’m trying to finish up these tasks before the day ends and you’re really disturbing me,” you grumble, trying not to let your voice waver. glancing away from sae, you slip your wrist out of his grasp and step away, creating some distance.

“is it something i did?” he asks. “if you’re not leaving because of the job itself then it must be the person, right? did i do something to upset you?”

“why do you care?”

“i have every right to, you’re my manager.”

“i won’t be in a week.”

“that’s a week away, you are still my manager right now and i want to know why it is you’re leaving.”

“can you not take the hint, sae? i don’t want to tell you!” you exclaim, shutting the filing drawer with a little more force than necessary.

“i won’t leave until you tell me.”

“you will actually hate me if i tell you.”

“i will hate you if you don’t tell me.”

“well then it doesn’t matter.”

“yes it does. if you’re just gonna leave me behind then i can’t see why you can’t tell m-”

“-if i tell you will you leave?” you snap. the silence is deafening, with sae widening his eyes in shock at your outburst. he nods firmly. “i like you. in more than a professional way. that’s why.”

turning around to the filing cabinet again, you reach out to pull the drawer with shaky hands, a racing heart, and a swirling stomach.

“now that i’ve told you, could you please leave?” you omit to tell him that you can’t look him in the eye. not anymore now that you’ve effectively ruined whatever-was-going-on between you and the star athlete.

footsteps echo behind you, drawing near with each click of sae’s shoes. you stiffen when they stop right behind you and there’s a moment of quiet, allowing you to hear sae shuffle behind you, a hesitant hand reaches out to cover yours, gently pulling it away from the cabinet to turn you around instead.

you don’t look him in the eye, glancing at every inch of the walls in your office just to avoid him. sae frowns at your evasion.

“can you look me in the eye so i don’t sound stupid saying what i’m about to say?” he asks, a little gentler than his usual, demanding tone, but still cold enough that your gaze cuts to meet his.

“you always sound stupid,” you mutter without thinking.

sae scrunches his face in judgement. “seriously? i was gonna say something you’d like to hear to. way to go for ruining it.”

“what, no! tell me!”

“i don’t think you deserve to know anymore, stupid.”

“hey! if i had to tell you then it’s only fair if-”

“-i like you too.”

that zips you up and a glimpse of mirth shines in sae’s eyes, paired with an almost-unnoticeable quirk of his lips upward.

“you do?” you stammer in disbelief.

“yeah.”

“oh.”

“yeah.”

there’s a pregnant silence between you two. no one ever really tells you what to do in scenarios like this, and the one time you’d like to use your brain and not embarrass yourself in front of sae, your mind decides to see itself out. “that’s… cool.”

“that’s all you have to say?”

“what, do you have more to add?”

“not really apart from inviting you to dinner with me.”

“when?”

“tonight.”

“tonight?” you parrot. “i can’t, i have so many tasks left to finish!”

“just leave them behind.”

“i can’t! i should get them done before i leave.”

“you leave in a week, then none of these tasks are your problem anymore.”

“that’s really not the best way to think about this, sae.”

“so thank goodness you’re my manager and not someone else.”

you narrow your eyes at him, immediately knowing what he was implying. “don’t think that this is a reason for me to stay being your manager. in fact, i’d argue that i now have more reasons to quit.”

with a ‘tch’, the soccer player rolls his eyes. “okay whatever, we’re grabbing dinner and that’s final.” he threads your hands together. “c’mon, sweets, let’s go.”

#sae x reader #blue lock x reader #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae #bllk x reader #blue lock fluff #sae fluff #itoshi sae fluff #sae itoshi x reader #blue lock

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flowerandblood · 11 months

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The Crime and Punishment (4)

[modern! lawyer • Aemond x fem!reader]

[warnings: sex content, age gap, smut, angst, domination kink, sexual tension]

[description: Aemond becomes a co-owner of one of the largest law firms in the area. He is invited to cooperate by one of the best lawyers he knows. While working in the evenings on further matters at his house, he meets his daughter, much younger than him, whose behavior gives him sleepless nights. Anon Request: Age gap, domination, lots of sexual tension and guilt.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

She'd never been as excited as she was the day that they were supposed to fuck in his office. The night before when they had talked, before she went back to her room to sleep he had let her sit on his lap, sitting in the armchair. They kissed and rubbed against each other. She almost just unzipped his fly and started riding him. However, she decided to respect his request.

The next day she showed up at their law firm late in the afternoon, surprising her father. She was wearing her favorite short, black, boat neck dress with a white collar. It was fastened from the front with nice, decorative buttons. She thought that it was perfect for what she wanted to do today.

"What are you doing here? Something happened?" He asked anxiously. She quickly shook her head.

"I promised Aemond that I'd help him write up the protocols of some of the recent interrogations." She said lightly, taking the backpack off her back and placing it on the chair. Her father raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"His assistant doesn't take care of it?" He asked uncertainly. She laughed at his words.

"She does, but she's too slow. And he needs it for tomorrow's trial." She spoke truthfully. He really needed these documents and said it would be a good excuse for them to meet. Her father nodded understandingly.

"I see. I hope you get on with your work quickly. Call me if you need anything." He said and patted her head.

She nodded and walked past him, heading for Aemond's office. She went inside and closed the door behind her.

He sat behind his desk and looked at her intently, his face tense. She thought he looked incredibly handsome in the tight, black Tshirt he was wearing.

"Good afternoon." She said softly as she sat down at the other desk and opened the laptop. She looked around and thought that Hannah was indeed quite a mess. There was nothing to find on her desktop, folders scattered chaotically and senselessly.

"Where are the records I have to listen to?" She asked, looking at him uncertainly.

He sighed heavily, getting up from his seat and walking over to her. He stood behind her and bent down, taking the mouse from her hand. She shivered as she felt the touch of his hand, his hot breath on her neck.

He fumbled through various folders, cursing under his breath at the mess his assistant had on the computer. He finally found what he was looking for, marked her with nine files, each at least half an hour long.

"I have to write down all these recordings?" She asked terrified, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. He looked down at her with an impassive expression on his face.

"Yes. I need it by tomorrow. Hannah only managed half of what I asked her to do during her working hours." He said low, frustrated and unhappy. She blinked and nodded her head.

"Okay, I'm getting to work." She said, sighing softly, plugging her headphones into her computer. She could feel him staring at her thoughtfully for a moment longer.

She felt a pleasant shiver run through her as he leaned over her suddenly and brushed his lips against her neck. She didn't have time to say or do anything, because he got back up and headed for his desk, sitting down behind it and going back to his paperwork. She put on the headphones, sighing softly, and played the first recording.

Several hours had passed, and she still had three recordings to write down. She was already tired and sleepy, the witness was babbling terribly and she had to go back several times to listen well to what he was saying. She couldn't afford to make a mistake when Aemond would later rely on those records in court.

She rubbed her eyes, replaying one of the excerpts, and opened the text file window jotting down what she heard. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Aemond get up from his desk. She took one earphone out of her ear, seeing that he was looking at her expectantly.

"Do you have much left?" He asked low. She glanced at her watch. It was already eight o'clock in the evening. She sighed heavily.

"Three more recordings." She said resigned. "This man is babbling horribly. I'm not surprised Hannah was taking it so slow." She said, wanting to defend her a little in his eyes.

Aemond pursed his lips and sighed.

"Go home and rest. I'll finish it." He said gently. She blinked and furrowed her brow.

"That wasn't the deal." She said calmly, looking at him intensely. He rolled his eye at her words.

"Don't be childish." He said, putting aside some papers and folders. She put the earphone back on and went back to typing on the computer, ignoring him.

She heard him say something else to her, but she didn't know what. He ran a hand over his face, not knowing what to do with her. He finally approached her impatiently and took the earphone from her ear.

"I am talking to you." He said angry. "Take your backpack and go home. Do you want me to order you an Uber?" He asked, but she didn't answer, trying to pull the earphone from him which he had taken from her hand.

"You're interrupting my work." She said indifferently. He squeezed her wrist firmly, leaned over her, and grabbed her jaw, forcing her to look at him.

"Do not provoke me." He spoke coldly and low. She smiled involuntarily at his words.

"Or what?" She asked defiantly.

His lips pressed into a thin line. He tapped his tongue against his cheek, his expression changing as if he had an idea. A shudder went through her.

"Do you want to see what I'm capable of?" He asked quietly. She felt goosebumps rise on her arms. She swallowed hard, feeling the throbbing pressure between her thighs. There was no one else in the office except for them.

"Yes." She whispered.

He stared at her for a moment with black, blank eye. She squealed loudly as he suddenly grabbed her from her chair and lifted her, carrying her to the guest couch on the other side of his office. He laid her down on her, the cool leather covering almost burning her hot skin. She was breathing unevenly, excited.

He crouched astride her, undoing and pulling down his belt. She saw that with a few confident movements he made two loops out of it.

"Give me your hands." He said low. She blinked at him in surprise, her heart pounding wildly. He raised an eyebrow.

"Give me your hands or go home. Choose." He said in a voice that brooked no argument.

She pursed her lips and held out her hands to him. He smiled in satisfaction, tightening the loops around her tiny wrists.

"Does it hurt?" He asked, looking at her carefully. She shook her head, and he grunted in approval, taking her bound hands and placing them above her head.

"Turn onto your stomach." He said calmly.

She swallowed hard and did as he asked. It wasn't going according to her plan, but she was incredibly turned on. She thought that no men had ever affected her the way he did in her life. She felt him slip her shoes off her feet.

She sucked in a quick breath as he grabbed her hips and lifted them quickly with a firm motion, so that she had to bend over and stretch out, seeking support in her knees. Her bound hands lay in front of her, clenched on the fabric of the couch. She knew she was completely at his mercy.

She swallowed loudly as she felt his hand on her buttock. She knew that in this position he could see her panties perfectly and he was just enjoying the sight of them. His touch sent a pleasant shiver through her, her insides clenching around nothing.

"You've been driving me mad on purpose for months." He grunted low and slapped her hard on the butt with his open palm. She squealed softly and groaned, leaning forward a little, surprised and excited by the sensation. He began to rub his hand again to the place that was so pleasantly burning.

"I have to admit, it's hard to discourage you. But it's over now." He spoke calmly and darkly, his tone of voice sending shivers down her spine.

Her lips parted as she felt his hands slowly sliding down the thin fabric of her panties. She felt a chill against her bare, hot skin. She tightened her fingers on the fabric of the couch as she felt his thumb on her entrance, teasing her swollen clit once in a while.

"Have you been so wet all these hours?" He purred, his thumb rubbing her hot, throbbing skin in circular, measured motions. He gave her another loud slap on the ass when there was no response.

"I can not hear." He said menacingly, his hand tightening on the skin of her buttock. She sucked in a breath, breathing fast, writhing beneath him.

"Yes." She whispered helplessly and heard his soft chuckle. She mewled softly as she felt him lean over her, his tongue brushing over her wet, throbbing womanhood.

"So wet and desperate. You'll be begging me for mercy today." He purred and began teasing her with the tip of his tongue, licking her entrance and clit gently, moving it up and down, never giving her complete pleasure anywhere.

She moaned helplessly under him, her buttocks trying to push harder against his face, she felt her nipples harden all over. His hands gripped her thighs firmly, keeping her from finding fulfillment.

"Don't move or you won't be able to sit on your ass tomorrow." He said warningly, returning to earlier caresses after a moment, his tongue once in a while slid deep inside her, making her body bend, a long, sweet moan came out of her mouth.

"Feels good? Do you like it when I lick you like that?" He asked in awe, watching how easily he drew the reactions he wanted from her. She shivered at his question, panting softly.

"Yes, don't stop, keep licking me" She mumbled, and he happily went back to his previous activity, burying his face between her thighs, his tongue now even deeper than before.

Its rough, supple structure rubbed hard against its fleshy, hot walls, tightening around nothing. She moaned loudly as he began to lick the place where her most sensitive point was, driving her crazy.

"Yes, yes, please" She moaned loudly and clenched her hands helplessly as he pulled away from her suddenly, licking his lips in appreciation. He watched her thighs quiver with thirst, her juices running down her skin.

"What a mess. So much of you come out just by licking that tight pussy?" He asked in disbelief, undoing his fly. She flinched with pleasure at the sound, but he slapped her butt again.

"Stay still if you want to come today." He said low, pulling down his pants and boxers, pressing his throbbing, swollen cock against her wet entrance. He rubbed it in her juices until he was wet.

They both gasped loudly at the sensation. He heard her muffled groan as the tip of it teased her, pushing in and out a little. She sobbed under him, her thighs shaking.

"What's going on? My disobedient girl wants my cock inside her? Hmm?" He asked, rubbing her buttocks, entering her lightly and coming out at once, teasing her. When she didn't answer, he slapped her butt again.

She squealed loudly, her skin already red and burning. She swallowed in the humiliation of having to say the words, but she was too desperate to defy him.

"Yes, please, I need you" She mumbled pleadingly, breathing heavily. She heard his satisfied grunt at her words.

"So you can be good and obedient if you want to. Is it that hard?" He asked delighted, sliding her skin to the sides and entering her whole, pushing her fleshy structure to the limit.

They both moaned loudly at the sensation and immediately began to move, unable to control themselves. He wanted to torment her a little, but since last night he dreamed only about fucking her.

"No, please, I promise I'll be good already, I'll be so good to you" She moaned helplessly, her thighs opening in front of him invitingly.

He moaned low at her words and began to fuck her with all his strenght, thrusting in and out of her with a wet, loud, pervert slap. They both began to breathe heavily, her buttocks coming out to meet him, her hands clenching on the couch.

"Yes, please, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!" She moaned loudly and he groaned helplessly, his hands clenching her buttocks, accelerating, his balls hitting her skin, their shared juices running down their thighs.

"You're not so talkative now, huh? You don't have much to say with my cock deep in you." He hissed through clenched teeth, fucking her brutally, both of them feeling their fulfillment coming, he had never been in such a trance before.

All he could think about was how tight, hot and wet she was, how tight she was clinging on his cock, making him almost lose touch with reality. He felt her close to orgasm, her wet walls throbbing against him rhythmically.

He came out of her suddenly, rubbing against her again, and she moaned helplessly and sobbed, her thighs shaking all over, her hands clenched into fists.

"What happened? You almost came?" He purred, stroking her buttocks soothingly.

"Didn't I tell you that you'd be begging me for mercy?" He asked with satisfaction.

She swallowed hard, resting her cheek on the couch, glancing at him. She saw his gaze dark with lust, his parted lips, sweat trickling down his face, his sticky hair matted with effort. She thought she could still break him and get what she wanted.

"What do you want me to do, sir?" She asked in a trembling voice, smiling slightly. She saw his face froze at her question. He licked his lips involuntarily and shivered all over. His cock teased her entrance again, driving her crazy.

"Say that you will always obey me and do what I ask. That you will always be as good to me as you are now." He purred, stroking her buttock steadily. Her lips parted, her body trembling with desire.

"I will always obey you, sir." She whispered and moaned loudly as she felt him enter her again. He moved slowly inside her, teasing her throbbing and swollen walls.

"Keep talking." He gasped in delight.

"I will always do what you ask." She moaned helplessly, feeling him move faster and faster inside her. They both began to gasp with pleasure again, he finally allowed her buttocks to collide with his thrusts.

"I'll be good, so, so good to you" She moaned and with that sentence they began to fuck wildly, finally giving each other what they wanted, the wet, loud slaps of their bodies hitting each other reverberating around the room. His hand slid between her thighs, massaging her clit in circular motions. She moaned loudly, feeling their impending fulfillment.

"Please, I'll be so good, please, please, please!" She sobbed and felt a strong shiver run through her body, making the sound stick in her throat. She moaned almost painfully as a strong, sharp orgasm washed over her body in waves, giving her a pleasure she had never experienced before in her life.

"Fuck, yes, that's right, that's my good girl" He panted loudly and came hard inside her, his hot seed spilling all over her insides, filling her to the brim. They moved for a while, his cock thrusted into her involuntarily, not wanting to interrupt this wonderful pleasure.

"Fuck, that was good. It was so damn good." He gasped, sliding out of her finally, his cum running down her thigh. He leaned over her, finally releasing her wrists from his belt. He took them in his hands and started rubbing them.

"Everything's all right?" He asked in a whisper, leaning over her ear. She lay under him with her eyes closed, breathing raggedly, her lips slightly parted.

"I've never felt better."

______

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @avgdusterfan @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @random-ocity @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @snh96 @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes

Others: @fan-goddess @itsabby15 @fangirlninja67 @the-common-cowgirl @glame @xcinnamonmalfoyx @toodlesxcuddles @virtualsweetsqueen @nina2697

If you want to be tagged, leave a comment below. ♥

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promptthebear · 11 months

Note

I hope I'm not too late, we are on different timezones so it is kind of hard to tell haha, but I was wondering if I could please request a Brahms Heelshire drabble with number 16. No pressure if I am to late! So excited to see what you are writing for these!

Hello Anon! No worries, you made it in time! Congratulations on being my first Brahms request, hopefully this is what you were looking for and you enjoy reading it!

Easter Askbox Event- Brahms Heelshire x Reader

Prompt: You and me. Movie night.

CW: Fem!Reader, 2nd person, reader is referred to as "you." Reader and Brahms have an established relationship. Some non sexual nudity.

Brahms had a cold, which meant the world was ending.

You’d tried to help him at first, when all he had was a runny nose and some sniffles. Unsurprisingly, Brahms had doubled down and disappeared into the walls, where he spent the better part of two weeks sulking. By the time he’d been sensible enough to come out, the damp and cold had already done their work.

You now had a feverish, coughing, grumpy Brahms confined to his bed and as much as you loved him, he was slowly driving you insane.

“Baby, PLEASE. It’ll make you feel better.” You smiled while you said this, but your jaw was grit so tight it hurt. A spoon of inky looking cough syrup was held in your hand. You were sitting on the end of Brahms bed, trying to get him to take his medicine for what felt like the hundredth time in a row.

“No.” Brahms had forgone the mask after he’d sneezed into it one too many times, which meant his sullen expression was on full display “It tastes awful”

“I know it does, sweetheart” you had a headache forming just behind your eyes and it was making it difficult to sound cheerful “But you want to get well again, don’t you?”

The look in Brahms eyes said yes, he did. You knew he hated being cooped up as much as you hated keeping him there. At the same time, his mouth remained resolutely closed. You were going to have to offer up something good to get him to cooperate. The promise of playtime and the attention he felt entitled to wasn’t enough for him to tolerate any discomfort, no matter how brief.

“Okay” you exhaled forcefully, trying to muster your remaining patience “If you take your medicine now, like a good boy, I’ll call Malcolm up later and get him to rent a DVD for us from the library. You and me, movie night. Does that sound fair?”

Brahms cocked his head to the side and you could tell he was weighing his options. As much as he despised Malcolm, the idea of snuggling up in front of your laptop with a bowl of popcorn was too good to pass up. You’d introduced Brahms to that particular snack a few months ago and since then, he couldn’t seem to get enough of the stuff. Even if he was in a deep sulk, he’d always appear as soon as he heard the microwave turn on.

“Okay.”

It was only one word and two syllables, but to you it was as rich and inspiring as the hallelujah chorus. You smiled at Brahms again, a real one this time that reached all the way to your eyes. He didn’t smile back, he’d spent too long in the mask to bother with expressions most of the time, but you could tell he was pleased. The stiffness had left his shoulders and his hands no longer clenched the blankets in fistfuls.

“That’s my sweet boy. It’s just the one spoonful today, I know you can do it.”

Brahms opened his mouth, looking up at you and reminding you of a baby bird waiting to be fed. You slipped the spoon over his lips, and tipped the handle upwards so its contents emptied out completely. Getting Brahms to take a second dose was going to take a lot of negotiating, which meant you weren’t about to waste a drop.

You expected some dramatics to follow, gagging, crocodile tears and lots of whining about how awful it was. Instead, Brahms surprised you. Aside from closing his eyes and some hard swallows, there was no other external reaction. He even opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue to shown you he’d taken all of it.

“Brahmsy, I’m so proud of you! That was so good, well done!”

You set aside the spoon and medicine bottle on the night table, feeling Brahms’ eyes tracking your every movement. It was hard to predict what he was going to ask for next, even with the mask off you couldn’t always read his expression. However, when he caught the sleeve of your shirt in his grasp and tugged you closer, you knew you wouldn’t be sleeping alone tonight.

“Stay with me?” his voice was a little hoarse still, but sounded better than it had in days.

“Of course," you replied, smiling down at him "Scootch over and let me in.”

He did as you asked, lifting the covers and moving over to the far side of the bed so you could climb in next to him. It was a tight squeeze, your bed was queen sized and had much more room, but being sick had made Brahms even more sensitive than usual and he craved the comfort of his childhood bedroom.

Within seconds, he had wrapped his arms and legs around you, snuggling in under your armpit and placing his head on your chest. You let out a small laugh, and leaned down to place a kiss on his forehead. He still felt hot, but he wasn’t sweating like he’d been a few days ago. Odds are when you took his temperature later, you’d find that his fever was close to breaking if not broken already.

“Are you tired, darling?”

Brahms nodded, his eyes half lidded with contentment. The sound of your heartbeat and warmth of your body had already begun to soothe him into drowsiness.

“Try to get some sleep, then. I’ll be right here.”

The faint patter of rain on the windows and the dim, golden glow of the beside lamp soon lulled you into a near doze. Taking care of Brahms was a full time job, and given how things had been going lately, you were exhausted. More often than not, Brahms had woken you up in the middle of the night, complaining of a sore throat or from nightmares caused by the fever. As much as you loved him, you loved having a full night’s sleep more.

You had almost completely nodded off when you felt something tugging on your shirt. Glancing down, you saw Brahms fingers poking at the buttons down the front, like he was trying to undo them.

“Brahaammmms-” your voice came out in almost a near groan “Do we have to do this tonight?”

“Please? I’ll be good.”

You let out a sigh, knowing this was probably going to be the only way either of you were going to get any rest.

“Alright, alright. But behave yourself, or I’m going back to my own room.”

Brahms nodded, and leaned back slightly to give you more space to move. You sat up, making quick work of the buttons and lying back down on the pillows with your shirt spread open. Almost immediately, Brahms had snuggled close to you again, gently nuzzling at the tops of your breasts as he did so.

You gave him a moment to get comfortable, relishing the soft sounds of contentment he made. You’d discovered this particular trick a few months after Brahms had revealed himself to you and your relationship turned romantic. At first, you’d assumed he was just being grabby as per usual, until you realized the skin to skin contact helped him sleep. Sometimes, it was the only thing that helped when he was worked up or restless.

“You ready?”

He nodded again, the movement causing his beard to tickle against your skin. You leaned down, and placed a kiss on the crown of his head before twining your fingers in his hair. Brahms let out a deep sigh, before his eyes fluttered shut. He always looked the most beautiful to you when he was falling asleep, the peaceful expression taking years off his face.

“G’night Brahmsy, I love you”

He muttered something, already so sleepy you could hardly make it out, but you swore for a second it sounded like “love you too.”

#easter event 2023 #brahms heelsire x reader #brahms heelshire x you #brahms heelshire #the boy 2016 #slasher x you #slasher fic

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malamiteltd · 4 months

Text

Holiday Pictures 2023! (part 1)

Happy Holidays, everyone! This year I decided to put together some pictures of various folks. They’re all in a style that makes them seem shorter than usual. I did my best to get them looking good, so apologies if there’s any errors. Admittedly I had only planned to make eight of these, but I had experienced a drive to keep making more – a phenomenon that’s been incredibly rare for me these days – so that number expanded to 16. They’re mostly featuring folks on Twitter that I know, like, and/or admire in some meaningful capacity, so I hope they all like what I’ve put together!

For NS-Games, it’s the “Fix-It Cat” Collin LiBee. A very good friend who’s good with computer problems, and has been making some nice art to boot! He’s wearing his purple shirt today, and showing off a laptop with a familiar wallpaper design.

For PetrarchEleven, it’s his protogen character Ramune! He seems to be having a good time, dancing and waving those glowing batons all around. He just needs to be careful! If he doesn’t watch where he goes he could accidentally fall to pieces!

For Saturn’s Rings and Colonel Sandwich, it’s their respective characters Saturn and Terry, posing together for this one. Early on this year Saturn had asked for a picture of the two together, and this was the opportunity to do it. They are indeed a cute pair!

For Treevis, it’s his character Lytzyv, dashing and looking cool. I think this is the fourth iteration of him that I had made, with little tweaks in design each time. I don’t see too many images of him these days, so hopefully I got all the details down.

For VAdaPEGA, it’s Pantufa the Cat, as he appears in the “Extended Edition” of his game. I always thought he looked good in that attire. But with how small he is, I didn’t think it was enough, so Honker is here as well! It’s a two-fer! (Or maybe a “Toof-er”?)

For Cooper the Husky, we have…Cooper the Husky! He’s got a cute art style and characters to match, so I tried to keep with some of the aesthetic. I particularly liked his “modern outfit,” so that’s what he’s wearing here.

For Miles Fox, it's Charlotte, the main character of his work-in-progress, “SLAY-BELLS!” She seemed like an appropriate character to draw this time of year. I somehow ended up making her look like something from a Rankin-Bass special…which I guess is also appropriate.

For HunterBahamut, this is Hunter. I had drawn Bahamut a few times before, but this is the first time I made this one – I opted for his black-and-white iteration.. I’m not sure if he’s running away from or towards danger, but he sure looks like he’s ready to confront it either way.

Quite a few so far! And we're only halfway through!

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only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are · 7 months

Text

Redwood Pyschiatric Institute - Part 6

MASTERLIST - PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 - PART 4 - PART 5

CWs: mention of ECT, mental hospital whump, mental health gaslighting, force used against patient (electric shock baton), forced psychiatric care

Matthew Cooper pulled up in front of a small house on the end of the street, pulling out his phone to send a quick text that read 'I'm here.'

On the screen were a series of previous, unanswered and unread messages he had sent to his friend Rowan.

'Hey Rowan. Just checking in.'

'Rowan, it's me. What's up bud?'

'Where are you?'

'PICK UP ROWAN'

'Fine. If you won't talk to me, I'm not going to try anymore'

Then, from today. 'Rowan, I'm coming over.'

Matt sighed as he dropped his phone into his pocket and clambered out of the car. He walked up to the front door, and rang the doorbell. He waited a moment, and when there was no answer, he rapped on the door with his knuckles. Still, nothing. The whole house seemed to be silent and still. He pressed his face to the one of the windows, attempting to peer through.

"Rowan!" He called.

No answer.

"Crap." Matt murmured. "Where the hell are you.."

He strode around the back of the house, searching for any signs of life from his friend. Finally, he spotted a back door, slightly ajar. It struck Mathew as strange. Rowan was not a careless person - in fact, quite the opposite, he could be rather paranoid, in Mathew's opinion. So it was completly out of the ordinary for his friend to leave a door unlocked, and Mathew also had no idea how long it had been open or if Rowan was even in the house still.

Cautiously, Matthew entered through the door, calling Rowan's name as he went. There were no traces of recent life - everything was put away neatly as Mathew would expect of Rowan, until he reached his friend's bedroom. This room was a mess - papers were scattered everywhere, on the bed, on the floor, on the desk.. Rowan's laptop was also still there, but Mathew wasn't keen to go trying to break into that. He pick up a paper sitting on the desk, and scanned through it. It was a newspaper article.

'Redwood Asylum patients claim gross mistreatment'. The headline read. The article was dated 1964. The next article, from 1970, announced the closing-down of the Institute. The outdated facility had claimed around 1000 lives by the time of its closure, almost a hundred years since it opened.

All the other papers and articles were about the institute, why puzzled Mathew further. Why was Rowan so obssessed with this place? And more importantly, where was Rowan?

Mathew did a quick google of the place, finding that it had since been reopened and claimed to now be running as a more modern psychiatric hospital. Matthew was all out of options - his only remaining option was right in front of him. He hit the phone number listed on the web page, drew a deep breath, and hit the call button.

"Hello, you've reached Redwood Psychiatric Institute. You're speaking to Carol, how can I help you?"

"Uh, hi Carol, my name's Mathew Cooper. I was wondering if you recently had a visitor by the name of Rowan Murdock?"

"I'm sorry but we can't disclose information on our visitors. We have, however, got a patient by that name. There's a note on his file saying he can't have visitors, are you family?"

"Oh, uh.. no, I'm a long-time friend of his though. I was just wondering if I could get some more information on what happened." Mathew stammered, shocked at the news. Rowan was a patient?

"I can arrange for you to meet his doctor, in that case. Doctor Wilson. I'm sure he'd be willing to discuss Rowan's - well, yes. Rowan's recent weeks with us."

Mathew arranged a time for the meeting and then hung up the phone. He began to head out the room, when he turned back, picked up one of the articles on the psychiatric institute, and then continued on his way out of the house.

------

"Mathew Cooper, I'm here to talk to Doctor Wilson." Matthew announced to the woman at the front desk.

"Sign here, and then take this visitor pass, and it'll be the third door on your left." She smiled, a friendly but tired, 'I've been here all day and I'm just trying to be friendly to you but I could care less' kind of smile.

"Thanks." Mathew smiled back as he followed her instructions and then headed down the hall.

Inside the office, the doctor sat behind the desk, looking comfortable but composed.

"Hello Mathew, take a seat. My name is Doctor Wilson." The doctor smiled from behind his glasses.

Mathew sat in the chair across from the doctor, and extended his hand to the doctor, who took it and shook it firmly.

"Thank you for coming, Mathew." Doctor Wilson greeted. "I understand these circumstances must be.. rather confusing, and I appreciate your willingness to discuss this in person."

"Thank you for meeting with me, Doctor Wilson. I understand you must be very busy." Mathew acknowledged.

"Indeed. Now, allow us to get right into it. Now, when did you last see your friend?" The doctor asked.

"Well, I must have seen him last a few weeks ago." Mathew answered.

"I see. Well, he came here as a voluntary self-admission on September 13th. He was incredibly unstable, and we immediately began his treatment. When we admitted him, we looked into his medical records and his personal records. Now, while I'm afraid I have some hard news to digest, there is no other way to say this - his name isn't Rowan Murdock. His real name is James Lawton."

"What- you mean, he's been lying to me this whole time about who he is?"

"No, not at all. James is a very mentally ill young man, not a pathological liar. We discovered symptoms of schizophrenia throughout the last few years of his life, but it was not yet diagnosed or treated. It has just since accumulated and worsened. He has been in dire need of treatment for years, but when he came to us, he was at the height of a schizophrenic breakdown, believing he was Rowan Murdock, a profilic journalist investigating the asylum before deciding to admit himself. We've been treating him with medications and ECT. He has been doing better the last few weeks, however, we are worried that a visit with you, an old friend of 'Rowan's may cause another setback." The doctor sighed.

"Oh..." Mathew's heart sank at the explanation. He couldn't comprehend the whole story, it was not anything he could have imagined. Of course, he had accepted there was some horrible series of events that had led to Rowan- or, James - being here, but not like this. "I.. I'll do anything you need, I'll say anything, I just- I need to see him, I need to talk to him."

"Alright, I'll arrange a visit." Doctor Wilson conceded. "But you mustn't encourage any of his delusions relating to 'Rowan Murdock'."

"Understood, Doctor. Thank you very much."

------

"James, I have a visitor for you." Doctor Wilson stood in the doorway, ushering Matt ahead of him.

Matt entered the room hesitantly, his eyes scanning around until they landed on a small figure, hunched up in white in the corner of the small room.

"James?"

The figure Matt had once known as Rowan did not acknowledge the presence of anyone in the room. He simply muttered something under his breath.

"James. I've brought you a visitor." Doctor Wilson repeated, mild annoyance already in his voice as he approached James and bent down, waving at his patient to try and gain his attention.

James blinked, several times, slow and sluggish, as if drawing himself out of a trance. He glanced around the room, eyes landing eventually on Mathew.

"Who.. whoareyouu-" James slurred softly, as Doctor Wilson grasped him by the arm and helped him onto his feet, bringing him over to the small bed in the centre of the room.

"He's on a lot of medication right now. He may be suffering some short-term memory loss right now, so remember that this will pass. Just remind him who you are." Doctor Wilson said to Mathew.

Mathew nodded and approached the bed, kneeling in front of his old friend. Rowa- James, he reminded himself, looked pale, and his usually-thin frame looked even thinner than usual, or maybe that was the ill-fitting hospital gown. The circles under his eyes were dark, and his face was pinched and gaunt.

"Hey, James. It's me, your old friend Mathew." He said softly, reaching out a hand.

James didn't take the hand, instead, he sat there, staring blankly at it as Matt continued talking.

"We've known each other since university. You used to come and 'study' at my house. I'd steal your notes, and then we'd play video games together until 3am, even if we had class the next morning at 9." Mathew chuckled slightly at the memory, his heart aching a little to see his friend of five years in this situation. They'd been very close through university, but in the last two years they'd drifted apart slightly as both adjusted to their adult lives. Still, he cared for his friend.

Matt drew himself out of his own thoughts and looked up to see James staring at him with an.. odd expression.

"James, are you alright?" Matthew asked gently.

"That's.. not my name." James said flatly.

Shit.. He'd triggered James. His friend began to cry - no, more like tears were slipping down from expressionless eyes.

James suddenly stood and lunged at Mathew, knocking him to the ground as he began to scream at Matt.

"HELP!"James screamed as he shook his friend. "THEY'RE TORTURING ME, LET ME OUT YOU HAVE TO LET ME OUTYOUHAVETOYOUHAVETOYOUHAVETO-"

Mathew was so shocked, he couldn't react. James screamed himself hoarse until suddenly, he gave a suprised shout, and collapsed onto his back, convulsing in agony at the hands of orderlies who had appeared in the room.

"Are you alright?" Doctor Wilson asked as he extended a hand and helped Mathew to his feet, pulling him away as the orderlies descended upon James' form, brandishing a syringe. Quickly, Doctor Wilson escorted Mathew out of the room, away from James' dreaful shrieking protests.

They returned to the doctor's office, where Wilson handed Mathew a glass of water. Matt graciously accepted it, ignoring the odd drop spilling out from how badly his hands shook. He downed the glass, wiped his face, and finally spoke. "What- what will happen now?"

"We will have to change his medication, and I'm going to perscribe another course of ECT." The doctor replied, calm but with a hint of frustration.

Mathew realised that clearly, James' treatment had been quite a difficult process that was now far from over.

"Shock therapy?" he asked.

"While that is the outdated term for it.. yes. It is now quite safe, and often used in quite severe cases of mental illness. Clearly, his schizophrenic hallucinations and paranoia are not yet treated. We will have to increase our efforts to stop these delusions that he is being trapped here."

"Will I be able to return and visit him again, Doctor?"

"Maybe after the next round of ECT. Thank you for coming, Mathew."

As Mathew drove away from the Redwood hospital, he wondered what fate he was leaving his friend to.

Tags:

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#whump community #whumblr #noncon drugging #psychiatric hospital whump #redwood psychiatric #whump fics #electric shock baton #ect mention #medical gaslighting #medical whump #forced psychiatric care whump #forced psychiatric treatment whump #forced medical care #forced medical whump #medical gaslighting whump

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zzzzzestforlife · 4 months

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Software Engineer's Chill Days in the Life 🌸🤙

(because most people are still out of office 🦄)

Wednesday 🌝

i had to investigate a bug yesterday but with the info i gathered i decided to wait until stand-up today to update my manager and my instincts were right, we don't have to fix it 😇 it's now another team's problem 👋

setting up monitoring for new features is my new favorite thing because it only requires 0.5 brain cells 🧠 i'm so grateful to past me for documenting the process so i don't need to think anymore 🙏

prioritizing bugs for later >> actually fixing bugs 🐛🦋 unfortunately i had to do both today 🤡 but still, it wasn't too bad~

Thursday ✨

super early department meeting, why 😭 it was just so much bureaucracy and bs 😒 i could have been sleeping!!! 😩

the dullest sort of code you could possibly review — the version migration 💀 at least it was over quickly 🔪

plan upcoming features so i understand what i'll be telling people what to do next sprint 😅

got pulled into another team's planning meeting last minute to answer questions since i helped build the original feature 🤓

Friday 🎉

super early company-wide meeting, why 🥲 i skipped and slept in 💤 so worth it!! 😌

i volunteered to take over fixing a bug yesterday so that i would have something to do today 😛 am i regretting it? a little bit, yeah... but it could've been worse. i could've been assigned script writing 🤢

admin tasks that somehow got ignored all week, oops 🤭 this includes finally fixing(?) my audio setup, i've been dialing into meetings through my phone for the past two days because my laptop/headset simply would NOT cooperate but it suddenly started working again?? idk, but i'll take the win 😜

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offside-the-lines · 4 months

Text

tell me who i run to (if not you) | anthony beauvillier | Ep 4. Four-leaf Clover

This is a completed series! Read Full Fic | 🧸 Series Cover Page/Masterlist 🧁 | 🎵 Playlist 🎶 << Previous Episode || Ep 4 || Next Episode >>

Chapter Summary: Tito’s been playing again, and during his first stretch of away games begins to miss home. Well, Evie’s home anyway. When he sees her in the bar, he can’t help but show it. Barzy calls him out on his lies.

A/N: You can refer to cover page for the series summary, author's notes, tropes, general warnings and other fun tidbits. This series contains mature themes. Minors DNI. Warning: heavy alcohol consumption, and kissing under the influence Disclaimer: This series is set in Chicago but does not mention the name of the team.

Word count: 5.5k // 44.5k

Requests (open) | Masterlist & Who I Write For | Join My Taglist

Four-leaf Clover

Tito — March 9

Tito walks through Evie’s front door, his feet dragging like cement on her floor. It wasn’t even a long road trip, only three games and six days, but they took a late flight, still in their game day suits, right after the game in DC so they could be ready for the back-to-back tomorrow. Today?

He was happy to be back playing and delighted to be back in the normal rhythm of training, games, and travel. But every game is a slog, and the weight of a loss feels even heavier on a team that loses more than it wins.

Not to mention, the long calls with his agent and dad meant he spent most of his waking hours on the roadie thinking about the future. It was hard not to feel increasingly pessimistic when you feel like you’re barely making an impact on a bottom-of-the-table team.

So, yeah, he’s exhausted. His thoughts are moving like sludge through a clogged pipe when he realizes that Evie has been talking to him for a while.

She looks up at him expectantly from where she sits in front of her computer, surrounded by papers and books. She’s wearing her glasses, and her hair is tied in a messy bun, whisps falling around her face. She’s wearing another sweater he had left behind. If he’s honest, most of his favorite comfortable clothes are in her closet now. He feels so relieved to see her he could cry.

He smiles at her softly, “Hey. Sorry. What did you say?”

She laughs. “I knew you weren’t listening.” She shakes her head and stands up, walking over to him.

His body sways towards her without his meaning to.

“Woah, okay.” She catches him in a hug. “Brutal week, huh?”

His arms tighten around her, holding her firmly to him. He hums, burying his face in her neck and sinking into the scent of her perfume and conditioner.

She leans back and smiles at him in a way that makes his body feel even more like jelly than it did, “Yeah, okay. Let’s get you to bed.”

She reaches up and loosens his tie as he just blinks at her. He cooperates as she takes his suit jacket and hangs it up on the kitchen bar stool. She pushes him towards her bedroom, causing him to grunt in confusion.

“Look, you’re tired. It was a crazy game, and you took a long flight. And, to top it all off, you have another game tomorrow. Which is fucking ridiculous, by the way. You’re sleeping in the bed.”

“What?” he mumbles, “No. It’s okay. I can do the couch.”

“I’m not arguing with you on this. Go get ready for bed.”

“But,” he pauses, turning towards her in the doorway of her room, “What about you? I'm not letting you sleep on the couch in your own apartment.”

She looks at him assessingly before shaking her head and smiling, “Okay then.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. Come on, let’s go.” She closes her laptop and turns off the lights, pushing him further into her room.

His feet drag as his head swims with confusion. “You’re staying in here, too?”

“Yes, dumbass. Might as well take advantage of this king bed.” Her voice softens. “Is that okay with you?”

“Oh,” he says, surprised, “Yes, please.”

He unbuttons his shirt as she rummages around in the closet. When she re-emerges, she’s holding a t-shirt and sweatpants. As he takes the rest of his suit off and hangs it on the nearest empty hanger, she remains standing in front of the closet stock still, eyes never leaving him. He puts a hand on her waist as he reaches around her to hang up his suit, dropping a kiss on her cheek as he takes the clothes in her hand.

If he was less tired, he might have caught the way her eyes linger on the ripple of his body, unable to look away as he changed. He might have seen the flush on her cheeks that she wills away before following him into the bathroom.

His eyes flutter closed as he leans against the sink when they're both brushing their teeth. As he starts to walk back into the bedroom, he remembers something important.

“Oh!”

“Yes?” Evie mumbles through her toothbrush, her eyes wide through the mirror as he stands close behind her, holding her waist.

“I tried to buy some tea when we were in Arizona. I tried to find the type you have here, but I couldn’t find it. Can you tell me what it’s called?”

“I can give you a box,” she says, standing stock still.

“Oh!” he whispers, “Thanks.”

He drops a kiss on her shoulder before trudging into the bedroom. He means to wait for her to join him, but he falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

Evie — March 17

Evie has never understood why St Patrick’s Day is so popular in the US, but that doesn’t stop her from agreeing to go out with the girls to celebrate. She revels in the group around her in the crowded club; it’s nice to have a group of friends in Chicago. Six months ago, that would've felt impossible.

Well, technically, she guesses, she has two groups of friends. She sees Kelsey, Leanne, and the others every few days, whether it’s for lunch, dinner, or a night out.

When Tito’s in town, she’ll join him and the team on the rare occasion that he goes out with them. Lately, she’s also been getting texts from Alandra when the team's traveling, inviting her over for viewing parties.

It feels weird to sit amongst the wives and girlfriends of the other players, though, so Evie prefers watching at home. Besides, Leanne has really gotten into the sport, so she always has company.

Her friends have been talking about St Patrick’s Day since the New Year’s party, where there was a spirited debate over the merits of house parties and nights out. The Night Out evangelists put together a bar and club crawl that started early in the evening. And Evie can really feel the alcohol in her system as she sways to the music.

Somewhere in her distant memory, she can recall Tito calling her around the second bar they visited. The team had won tonight and were in the mood to celebrate. Tito was high on his two-goal performance and sounded excited to actually go out with the team for once. She was happy for him.

She pulls out her phone— it’s now past midnight— and opens up her text messages.

To Tito 🌞🏒: whre r u?????

“Hey, Genevieve! Don’t be rude! Put your phone away,” Kelsey yells over the thrum of music.

Leanne peaks over her shoulder. “Who’ you textin’?” she slurs.

“Hey,” Evie squeaks, stuffing her phone back in her pockets. “Tito. He’s supposed to come find us.”

“What is it,” someone calls over. Evie’s not quick enough to figure out who.

“Gigi’s texting Tito again,” Leanne sings, making a wild gesture that knocks into a random passerby. “Oops.”

It only takes a second for the wolf whistles to begin.

Evie squeezes her eyes shut and knows precisely what’s in her near future.

Kelsey leans in conspiratorially, “Speaking of— You've got to be tapping that, right? I mean, holy shit. He's so fucking hot. Come on, you’ve got to tell us. What’s he packin’ under there?”

“Guys,” she whines, “We’ve literally been over this—”

“Okay, but like, you’ve got to be fucking right? You can’t have that body around 24/7 and not be hitting it.”

A wave of assent ripples through the group, and Evie feels something settle in her gut. Warm and tight across her lower belly. It makes her feel irritated and on edge.

“No, Leanne, we're not fucking. We hang out, we watch TV, we make and eat food, we sleep. That’s it.” She reaches for one of the shots on their table and slams it down.

“Oooh, she’s a little defensive,” Evie hears someone say.

“Yeah, she has to be so fucking wound up. Seeing all that and not getting any,” Kelsey tries to cover it as a mumble, but her voice is louder than she intends it to be.

“I literally picked up the other week. You were all literally there.” Evie rolls her eyes and glares at her friends. She pointedly has not and will not tell them about how that night ended.

“I guess you’re right,” Leanne says, putting her arm around Evie’s shoulder, “That girl was so fucking hot too. I don’t know how you do it. Well, I mean, I do. You’re hot. They’re hot. It’s just math. Still. Leave some for the rest of us, Jesus.”

Evie stares at the shots on the table and considers if alcohol poisoning would get her out of this conversation.

Kelsey interrupts her thoughts again, “But wait, wasn’t he on a roadie that night, though? Are you sure you guys are totally cool with each other hooking up with other people?”

Evie sighs and bangs her head on the table. “Guys, you've watched us wingman each other. What the fuck're you on right now?”

“Oh, right. Yeah.” Kelsey looks suitably chastised as she downs her own shot. Evie considers whether she should be cut off but ultimately decides she’s probably fine.

Her thoughts are interrupted again when Kelsey whispers in her ear, “So, like, if I sleep with him, you’d be okay with that.”

Evie feels her teeth clench, and her body stiffen as the room tilts a little. She forces her body to relax. She hasn’t had enough to drink to throw up right now.

“Yeah, have at it, Kels.”

When she looks over, Kelsey isn’t at all convinced, but she doesn’t seem to want to explore the topic any further. Thank God.

Evie takes a deep breath and takes another shot.

“Okay,” she says, loud and cheery, “We got another stop on this party tour?”

Leanne pulls out the map, to cheers around the table, everyone moving on quickly.

“I think Underground’s next. We can go now, what do you think?”

“Uh, yeah! Sounds great! Let’s go!” Evie announces.

As they step onto the curb, her phone rings. When she checks it, her screen is filled with a picture of Tito asleep on her couch, which she has saved as his contact photo. The image melts the remaining tension in her shoulder; she smiles and answers the call.

“Hey Tito, hold on,” she says into her phone before looking up at her friends. “You guys go on without me. I’ll meet you at the next place.”

“Are you sure?” Leanne says.

“Yeah, you guys go on. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Okay.” Leanne gives her a squeeze before walking off with the rest of the group.

Evie pulls her phone back to her ear as she steps under the club's awning, wrapping her coat close to her.

“—lo? Are you still there? Hellloooooo,” she hears Tito’s voice calling.

“Hey, Tito. Sorry, I was just talking to the girls.”

“Oh, hi!” Tito says, way too loud, making her wince.

“Hi to you too, bud,” she laughs, “Maybe not so loud. You almost made me deaf.”

There’s a pause on the other end before she hears Tito whisper dramatically into his phone, “Oh. Sorry. I just got excited. I miss you.”

She laughs again, her cheeks straining with her smile. “That’s okay. Where are you?”

“Um… Hold on.” She hears some muffled noises on the other end of the line. “We're going somewhere else soon. Where are you?”

“That didn't answer my question, " she laughs. “I’m at SpyBar. In River North.”

She hears him repeat her location.

“Tito?”

“Yeah, chouchou! I’m in a cab! I’ll be there in…” She hears him lean away from the phone again and ask the driver how far away he is, first in French and then in English. “Ten minutes.”

“What? Okay?” she says in confusion.

“Don’t move, okay? I’m coming.”

She shakes her head. “Yeah, okay. I might go back inside because it’s freezing out here.”

“Oh, yeah,” his voice coming through bright on her phone, “That’s okay. I’ll find you!”

“No, Tito! Just text me when you get here, and I’ll come out. There’s a line.”

When she hears no response, she looks down to see he has already hung up. “Goddammit,” she says to herself.

Fifteen minutes later, she's standing at a high top in the corner of the room, eyeing her phone, her vision hazy, when a large body comes crashing into her.

She stumbles in surprise. “Wha—”

Strong hands spin her around.

Her brain registers Tito’s beaming smile for a split second before his lips crash into hers. His hands fly up to cradle her face roughly.

She makes a squeak of surprise, her hands clinging to his arms— were they always this firm— for balance.

Before she can process any of it, Tito leans back. She immediately misses the sensation of his warm lips against hers, and her body sways into him to chase them.

“Hi,” Tito says warmly, his eyes wild and unfocused, the corners of them crinkled in unbridled joy.

“Hi?” She looks up at him. At this moment, it hits her that Leanne and Kelsey are so right. He's probably the most beautiful person she’s ever seen. Her eyes trail down his sharp nose to his soft lips. She likes those lips. They smile.

“I missed you,” the lips say. One of the hands on Evie’s face trails down her neck, causing her to shiver. The other hand tenderly tucks a strand of hair behind her ear before resting on her waist.

“You saw me this morning.” Her hands slide from his arms— how are they so big— across his equally firm chest. She can hear her blood rushing in her ears as she feels him solid and warm beneath her fingers.

“I know,” he murmurs before leaning forward to plant a soft peck on her forehead. She feels more than hears him take a breath in, his shoulders relaxing.

He leans back, his eyes searching her face, but she’s distracted. Her own eyes feel unfocused as they get stuck on his tongue wetting his glistening lips before finally locking onto his crystal-clear eyes.

Whatever Tito’s looking for, he seems content to have found it when he smiles, and she can’t help but smile back.

The hand on her neck moves so gently she feels every hair on her body stand on end. His thumb moves to brush along her jaw, resting on her chin. He tilts her head back, and her mouth parts with the action, and she feels his chest rumble beneath her palms as he groans.

The second time his lips meet hers, she’s ready for them and she wastes no time. She’s always known they were full— she has eyes— but she can feel every millimeter of their softness against hers. She feels content to just explore his pillowy lips but is interrupted by the way his tongue brushes against her lips, setting a jolt of heat down her spine.

Her hands grab onto his black dress shirt, pulling him impossibly closer and deepening the kiss. She feels crazy with it; the way their tongues slide hot and wet, the way his hands drag reverently over her back, coming to rest on her hips.

Her fingers are tangled in his soft curls. She gives them a gentle tug, eliciting another deep noise from him that makes the warmth in her stomach grow blazing hot.

He gently bites her lip in retaliation, surprising a moan out of her. Somewhere in her brain, she notices how broad his hands feel, fingers digging into her hips lightly.

They both jump when Tito’s phone vibrates between their bodies. He pulls away, a soft smile on his face, before reaching into his pocket.

“The boys are at the Underground, and they’re just wondering where I am.” He rests his forehead against hers.

“Oh! That’s where my friends went, too.”

“Do you want to go there then?”

“Yeah, let’s do it,” she smiles. She can feel her heart beating hard in her chest as the room sways a little around them.

“Okay, then.” He pauses. “Just one more thing before we go.”

“What?”

“Oh, you know, just this.”

He kisses her briefly.

“Wait, one more.”

Another kiss.

“Hang on. Okay, last one.”

Another kiss.

“There.”

She's laughing, rolling her eyes as she pushes him out of the club and into the cold Chicago air. The Underground is only a 10-minute walk from where they are, so they decide to walk hand-in-hand, chatting excitedly and laughing. At some point, Tito convinces her that he should give her a piggy-back ride. And that’s what their friends see when they walk up outside the club.

“Hey! Look! It’s Leanne. Oh, and your other friends! Oh! And the boys!” he shouts, attempting to point as he holds onto her calf.

Eventually, he agrees to let her down, but only because the bouncer insists. He doesn’t go far, though. He has an arm around her for the rest of the night, never leaving her side for even a moment until he's putting her in a cab with Leanne, dropping a kiss on her cheek.

“I’m not going to say anything,” Leanne says smugly as the door shuts.

Evie — March 18

The following morning, Evie wakes up with an incredible hangover. She groans as she rubs her eyes, wincing at the open windows. They must've forgotten to pull the blinds last night.

Tito…

She pauses, her head spinning. There’s something there as she freezes, pulling on that fuzzy thread of memory.

It comes back in a flash: wet pillowy lips sliding over hers, soft curly hair in her fingers, a broad palm firm on her waist, a warm callused thumb tracing her jaw, two deep pools of blue holding her gaze so tenderly.

She gasps; her eyes fly open.

Tito.

She looks over at her empty side, where she has grown accustomed to seeing Tito sleeping.

Right, he had to pack for a road trip. A road trip leaving today for the next week.

Fuck.

He will be back for only two days before he's gone for another week.

Double fuck.

Evie groans, pulls his pillow over her face, and screams into the swirling scents of her own conditioner and his cologne.

Tito — April 1

Tito’s glad he gets a day off in New York before their game against the Islanders. It lets him veg out on Mat’s couch all afternoon and evening— an entire 12 hours where he can pretend last year never happened.

He hates that this is one of only two places where he doesn’t feel like his skin is too tight for his body. At least in this space, he doesn’t have to think about all the calls with his agent about next season. He especially doesn’t have to think about the email in his inbox detailing his flight home on April 21st.

So he just enjoys spending time with Mat, playing video games like old times, and being in each other’s presence.

He’s glad he gets that time to enjoy blissful ignorance before he's rudely wrenched back into his real life while eating Thai food on Mat’s couch.

“So, any news about the contract situation?” Mat tries to sound casual and falls short by at least a mile.

“No, Barzy. If there was news, you’d know. You’d literally be like the first person I’d tell.”

Mat studies his face, and he must find something there because he shrugs.

“First person still, eh?” Mat’s face lights up in a cheeky smirk. “You sure? Are you sure I wouldn’t be the second? You think you’d call me before you’d call Evie.”

He says her name in a sing-songy voice, making Tito roll his eyes. Mat has gotten so much worse in his teasing about Evie since they met on FaceTime; Mat had loudly— embarrassingly— said, “You said she was hot; you didn’t tell me she was this gorgeous.” They apparently text now, too.

Tito heaves a heavy sigh and rolls his eyes. “Actually, you’re right. I’d probably call my dad first.”

Unfortunately, the glint has not left Mat’s eyes, which tells Tito he has found something to latch on to and has no intention of stopping anytime soon.

“So,” Mat says, casually chewing on his Pad Thai. “How’s Evie?”

“Why don’t you ask her yourself? You guys text now, don’t you?”

“You jealous, bud?”

Tito levels him with an unimpressed look. “Why would I be jealous? I literally see her every day.”

“Every day, eh?” Mat nods dramatically. “Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Uh-huh.”

Tito swears internally. How does Mat always do this? “Yes. I see my new best friend every day.”

Mat squawks so loud that Tito almost drops his green curry and points at him accusingly with his chopsticks. “What?! I told you that she was replacing me. Nah-uh, man. I am your best friend. And I will fight her. I will fly to Chicago right now and fight her.”

Tito chews smugly. “You’re going to travel. On a plane. To fist-fight a girl? Why don’t you take that energy onto the ice instead of all the yapping, eh?”

“Oh fuck you, Beau,” he spits, with no heat behind it. He eats his dinner, thinking for a bit before adding, “No ice talk in Barzy-Beau time.”

They eat their dinner in silence for a few seconds before Mat pipes up again, sighing dramatically, “I can’t believe you’ve fucking replaced me already. It’s been one year. All those years of work, down the drain. Did me helping you when you broke your arm in U-18 dev camp mean nothing to you?”

“Barz, this is why they call you a bitch baby.” Tito laughs again when he's rewarded with another squawk.

“No one calls me that!” he whines.

“Sure, bud.” Tito bumps his shoulder into Mat’s, smiling as Mat continues to rant while they finish their food.

After putting the empty take-out containers onto Mat’s coffee table, he flops back onto the couch with the controller.

“Okay, so you don’t want to talk about Evie,” Mat says, a few seconds into the NHL 24 game they’re playing.

“Not really, no.”

“Okay, so, like, any other hotties in Chicago?”

Flashes of Evie cross his mind, unprompted. He tries to think of literally any of the other girls he’s been with ever, but they all get replaced by her: the warm glint in her dark chocolate eyes, the buttery soft skin of her calf beneath his hands when they’re on the couch, or the way her smile makes his chest loosen even on the worst days.

And the hot slide of her lips against his.

Tito’s thumb slips, and his avatar misses the goal.

“Fuck! Uh, not really? I mean, I went out a bit earlier in the season, but I’m just so fucking exhausted now.”

Mat hums. “Sure, yeah. Anyone good enough you’d wanna see again?”

Tito’s traitorous mind can only supply the blurry flashes of Evie’s body pressed against his with the thrumming bass of club music in the background. The sensation of her hands curled in his hair. The little gasp-moan she made when he bit her lip. The way his fingers could span her entire waist.

He swallows hard, pushing those memories back down. “Come on, man. You know I never tell.”

Mat laughs softly. “Yeah, I know. Still worth a try, though.”

“You’re disgusting, man.”

Mat shrugs, feigning indifference. Tito bumps him hard with his shoulder.

“Hey!” he yells, elbowing Tito back, “That’s fucking interference.”

“What're you gonna do about it? Fight me?”

The conversation and the game devolve from there.

Later in the evening, Mat stands up to clean off the take-out boxes, an honest hallmark of growing up.

“You want anything to drink?” he asks from the kitchen.

Tito pauses and thinks, “Yeah, uh… Do you have any tea?”

There’s a silence in the kitchen before Mat appears in the doorway.

“Tea?” he asks.

“Uh, yeah? Leaves plus hot water? Leaf juice? I’m sure you’ve heard of it,” Tito smirks.

“Shut up,” Mat rolls his eyes, “Since when do you drink tea.”

“Since always? What’s it to you?”

Mat stares at him for an extended moment, brows furrowed, before walking back into the kitchen without another word.

“Um, Barz?” Tito calls after him, following him into the kitchen.

He sees Mat bent over, rummaging through his drawers loudly before turning around and throwing a tea bag at Tito.

“Here. You know where stuff is.” Mat walks past him back to the living room.

Tito stands for a second, confused, before following. “Dude, what the fuck was that?”

When Mat turns around, Tito's floored because Mat looks genuinely angry.

“Why are you lying to me?” Mat challenges, not a trace of his signature smirk on his face.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Tito stares at him blankly before shaking his head.

“Are you fucking serious right now, Beauvillier?” He pauses to assess Tito’s face. “Tea! Tea. You drink tea now? I've known you ten fucking years; I've seen you drink tea maybe three times.”

“Oh, come on, I drank tea.”

“No, you didn’t! But that is so not the fucking point, and you know it.” Mat walks back to him and pokes him hard in the chest. “So, tell me, why are you lying to me?”

Tito sighs and rubs his hands over his face, and when he opens his mouth to speak again, his voice comes out strained, “I’m not lying Mat. I swear.”

He feels Mat poke him again, gentler this time. “Okay. Fine. But if you’re not lying to me, then you're lying to yourself.”

“I— There’s—” Tito stammers, unable to form a coherent sentence, a panic setting into his chest.

Mat looks at him, and his expression softens before sighing, “Look, Beau. Tell me honestly. Where the fuck did you go when I asked you if you were seeing someone?”

His mind unhelpfully flashes him the image of Evie waking up next to him in the morning, sleep rumpled and utterly breathtaking. She makes a little squeak when she stretches, right as her eyes flutter open, and before she smiles at him. Tito’s always been an early riser, but even if he wasn’t, it’d been worth it just to see that every morning.

“Yes! See? That! Where the fuck did you just go?”

“I—” Tito takes a deep breath and fights through the tightness in his chest. “I can’t. I can’t, Mat.”

“Beau—”

“You know I can’t. She— I’m leaving Chicago in three weeks, Mat. I don’t know if I’m even going back to Chicago. I have no idea where I’m going to be next year.” He takes a shaking breath and looks past Mat’s shoulder and out of the living window.

“Beau— Tito, what are you talking about?” Mat asks gently.

“Barz, I know. Okay? I know. I know that I'm absolutely fucked. But it doesn’t matter because I can’t— I won’t do that to her. I've been in three different cities in the past year. Three different teams.” He fights through the wobble in his voice, barely above a whisper. “You don’t know what it’s like to— You just don’t know what it’s like.”

“Tito, fucking talk to me, man. Please. Just word vomit. Get it all out. Like when you make yourself throw up when you’ve drunk too much. It sucks in the moment, but you’ll feel better after.”

Tito sinks heavily into the armchair next to the couch and buries his face in his hands. “It’s just… One day, a team's your life. You’re asked to give everything to that team. And you’re happy to. Because it’s your team. Those are your boys. It’s like who you are. Anthony Beauvillier, a New York Islander. Right?

“And then the next day, out of absolutely fucking nowhere, you’re just not that anymore. You’re now on a new team in a new city with new teammates and new support staff. Everything's different. But you’re supposed to act like everything's fine, and you have to slot right in, in this strange new place with strange new people, and be just as committed to this strange new team as you were to the old one. And pretend like the last few years of your life never even happened.

“So you do it. And you do it with a smile on your face and a positive mindset, or whatever. You power through until you make new friends, have new favorite spots to eat, and, just like, new everything. And you think, fuck, okay, this’ll be fine. You’re smiling more for real now instead of just because that’s what people expect from you.

“And then, one day, you’re eating breakfast and you get a call from your agent. And it’s happening all over again.” His voice breaks. “And I just have a feeling that this is just what my career is going to be like Mat.”

“No—” he hears Mat’s pained voice coming from next to him.

“No, it’s okay, Barz. Look, I’m really happy for you, and I love seeing you fucking killing it out there. And being an All-Star and all that. But that’s not me. And that’s fine, too. I’m doing fine. I promise. But I can’t fucking do that to someone— to her. Even if she feels the— I can’t ask her to do this fucking circus show with me, just ripping her from her home every however many months. Just being a little scared every single time the phone rings that it’s going to be that call again. I can’t—”

Tito presses the heels of his hands against his eyes hard, willing himself not to cry. He hears Mat shuffle around to hug him firmly and tries to breathe through the tightness constricting his chest.

“I’m sorry, Beau. I really am. I wish it didn’t have to be you. I wish you could stay— could've stayed.” Mat sounds like he might be crying a little, too.

“It’s okay. It’s gotta be someone, I guess.” He shrugs, wiping his hands from his eyes and running his fingers through his slightly messed-up hair. “It’s so fucking stupid because I still feel really fucking lucky to play in the show. Like this was the dream. You know that. I’m living my fucking dream. And I knew this was part of the deal. So I’m okay with it, but I can’t ask her to do this shit with me. She deserves better than this. And I’m really grateful she’s even just my friend at all. I’ll be okay with it staying that way. It doesn’t matter what I— It doesn’t matter.”

Mat gives him a final squeeze before letting him go and sitting back on the edge of the couch. “Have you thought about talking to Evie about this? Like, I think she should know.”

Tito shakes his head, staring at his damp hands. “No… I don’t know… Maybe… I wouldn’t even know what to say.”

“Well, I think it would be good to start with how you definitely want to marry her and have her babies because you’re an idiot who drinks tea now.”

Tito chortles and shoves Mat in the shoulders hard; he falls dramatically backward into the couch. “I’m not fucking saying that, Mathew.”

“Which part, eh?” Mat winks and wiggles his eyebrows.

Tito takes the pillow behind him and pelts it at Mat’s head. “Any of it, you dumb fuck,” he yells before they both burst out laughing.

When they finally calm down, Mat says, “For what it’s worth, she’s definitely into you too. Anyone who voluntarily spends that much time with you has to be mesmerized by something. Might be just the abs, but it could also be your personality.”

“God, I hate you.”

“No, you don’t. You love me,” Mat beams at him, a smug grin stretched across his whole face.

“Urgh, fine. I do, Mat-Mat. Worst fucking choice ever. Should never have spoken to you at camp,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah? And what would you do without me?” Mat says in an exaggerated sing-song voice. He nudges Tito’s calf with his foot before standing up, “Come on, let’s make you that fucking tea.”

“I can’t believe you yelled at me over tea.” Tito stands up, following Mat to the kitchen again.

“I did not yell at you about tea. I yelled at you because you were being so fucking stupid, and it was pissing me off.”

“Do you even have a kettle?”

Mat throws him an unimpressed look, “No, I obviously don’t have a kettle. I was going to microwave it. God, she’s made you into a snob.”

“It's not snobby to make your tea at the right temperature.” Mat raises his eyebrows, and Tito laughs, “Okay, maybe. She’s right, though. Something about brewing temperature.”

“Whipped,” Mat mutters under his breath, causing Tito to hit him with a dishtowel.

Series Cover Page/Masterlist || Next Episode >>

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#rox writes #tell me who i run to series #anthony beauvillier imagine #hockey imagine #nhl imagines #chicago blackhawks

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kervl-klear · 2 months

Note

🦊 for Seoltang

🦊 - Would people be rooting for or wishing death for your OC online because of the war?

…………………………………………………

Noeu is looking at Seoltang who is making Coffee. As Seoltang’s Aide, he has something to report but for now….Why is Seoltang suddenly decided to make over 20 cup of coffees in the span of 50 minutes in the middle of a war???

Noeu tightly hug Seoltang, then kneel down in front of him.

Noeu: “Sir, I can have surgeon colonel verify for you that it’s impossible to die from coffee overdose. Do rethink your decision and stay with me”

Seoltang: “Aide what- That’s not what I’m trying to-“

Noeu: “I know people say weird things about you ever since you forgot to zip your pants on national television but you have to brave through it”

Seoltang’s smile crooked a bit, he almost managed to forget about that event. He makes a square shape hand signal with his thumbs and his index fingers then draw a smile on the air with his left index finger, this had Noeu immediately stood up in response.

Seoltang: “Thank you for your kind concern but I would prefer if you addressed your report to me first”

Noeu is still worry but decided to go along.

Noeu: “Very well sir, my report today concern the minute of Area 21 meeting with the intelligence bareau”

Noeu tapped on his laptop to deactivated the power saving mode, showing a presentation slide.

Noeu: “Since you have no social media account, which is a very wise choice considering your work practice. Everyone will definitely wait to celebrate your death. Regardless, allow me to fill you in”

Noeu: “This morning the other generals received an overwhelming amount of online death threats due to the fake leak of North Capital’s documents relating to the recently emerged war between nation A and nation B”

Noeu changed the slide.

Noeu: “The publisher of these fake documents claimed that Northland had been stealing ship from nation A to pirated the cargo ships from nation B, oddly alighted with a statement from one of nation A navy who claim to be a survivor from the piracy before he’s found death in his residence”

Noeu: “The online account that published these fake documents had completely vanished, we concluded that these documents are very specific kind only 3 stars generals and up would knows how to utilized as it is a document designed specifically to be submitted through enclaves in Northland-Bay Hill CENTRIX but none of these documents are found in our or Bay Hill’s system”

Noeu: “Nation B is one of our important imports and exports business partners for many type of essential goods when it’s come to waterway shipments. Our main export is aircraft part which we produce by importing titanium alloyed from nation B. So the defense forces, specifically North Capital are blamed by the civilian for the current Northland’s economic failure”

Noeu: “The other generals had sent their troops to gather more information from the war-side which should rendered the actual instigator motionless for the time being but it does not change the fact that both nation are wary of us and will not cooperate with any troops let alone allow any Northland soldiers on their land”

Noeu: “Clearly this is an attempt to stir riot by an espionage agent who are already deep inside the defense service of our country. The intelligence bureau also report that the results from OSINT and DIGINT alluded to the same directions and so they seek insight from you concerning-”

Noeu stop once he heard a clicked sound, Seoltang is taking photo of the 25 cup of coffees he made.

Noeu: “Sir, are you listening?”

Seoltang: “My apologies Aide, I have to get my profile up in timely fashion so I can put this in the resume I will use to apply for a job at Starducks. I have a good reason to personally investigate there”

Noeu went quiet for moments.

Seoltang is the designer of Northland espionage network and CENTRIX shared between Northland and the other nations, of course his lead is ahead of every other generals when it’s come to intelligence and information. Starducks must have something to do with the-

Seoltang: “You see Aide, last time I attended the conference at North capital. The executives asked me the numeric difference between the IBU of the coffee served in the meeting room and each type of coffee served in Starducks. But I don’t even know what IBU stand for so they tickled me with duck feathers as a warning. They said if I don’t have everything figured next time they will tickle me with heated needles and filmed the entire process”

What in the horizon are they doing at North Capital?? Do they have that much free time??? Noeu thought to himself, now he feels bad for the civilians knowing how their taxes are spent.

Suddenly, Seoltang phone’s buzzed.

Seoltang: “Perfect, I just got a like from an online coffee reviewer”

Noeu: “Hold on sir….you HAVE a social media account? Your existence is supposed to be SECRET! There’s a file about your identity in the B3 here in THIS BASE!“

Seoltang’s ears goes down a little after being scolded.

Seoltang: “I have multiple accounts depending on the industry but I’ve never disclosed anything about myself-”

Noeu: “You literally just published a photo taken inside a highly classified remotely detached facility!!”

Noeu took the phone from Seoltang and started reading some of his posts. It appeared that he did do some activities that supported the hate toward the North Capital officers, a very odd move especially for an account that is supposed to be for things like applying a job.

Then it all clicked.

Noeu: “Wait-did you conjured these online hate because you are bitter that the other generals tickled you with duck feathers over a stupid coffee question?”

Seoltang let out a soft laugh.

Seoltang: “Not quite, I personally don’t care about taking petty revenge on these generals but I care about your safety”

Seoltang: “Conflict can be use in many way from weakening people for threat migration to separating the human resources into group for more manageable organizational systems but surely you are a lot more well versed in this topic than me”

Seoltang approached Noeu and adjust Noeu’s hat.

Seoltang: “Since instigating conflicts is your specialty not mine, right Aide? May be you should rest more, it was careless of you to leave a survivor”

Noeu’s eyes twitched, now finally pieced together what had actually been going on. It’s the reason Seoltang didn’t attend the meeting between Area 21 and the intelligence bureau.

Seoltang: “You’re welcome Noeu”

In response Noeu laugh out loud.

…………………………………………………

Thank you for tuning into my frequency. CVL1, RWY CLR. 🛫✨

#c2istar #seoltang #noeu #my art #my oc

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gramarobin · 1 month

Text

It was such a gorgeous day today considering its the 2nd week of March in Michigan. Sadly, I spent almost all of my day inside laboring (on my laptop-pictured) over an essay about American veterans and homelessness- complete with cover, abstract, and references for community college english class. I'm only on page 2 Ugh 😫 This is not fun. Plus I have to get two of my classmates to peer review my essay before I can submit it- think I will get the cooperation of 2 classmates? I'm doubting it. I'll report back!

#community college #english class #ugh #not fun #i dont want to do this anymore

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americasass81 · 21 days

Text

Make A Wish And Blow . . .

Warnings 18+ for the following:- Smut {m/f), Group Sex, Oral (Both M & F receiving), Fingering, Anal, Implied Aftercare, Very Mild Fluff, Use of Pet Names, Overstimulation. Seriously do not read if any of this upsets you, the warnings are there for a reason. Feedback is welcomed and any mistakes are my own.

By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

Author’s Note 1:- This was written especially for @saiyanprincessswanie who celebrates her birthday today. Knowing the soft spot you have for these three and how they just can’t seem to get along in your series, I thought I’d see if I could bang their heads together and make them cooperate for the greater good. I hope this brings a smile to your face and a little bit of laughter to your day. Happy Birthday Missy. lyl💚🤍🧡

Author’s Note 2:- As always, all images have been found through google search.

Synopsis:- Accidentally coming across your unfinished novel your husband finds an interesting way to celebrate your birthday and get your creative juices flowing once again.

Pairings:- soft! Brock Rumlow x Female Reader, soft!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, soft!Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Word Count:- 6,516

Staring out the window as the timer on the oven counted down the completion of the birthday cake he’d been working on and filled the kitchen with a glorious aroma, Brock asked himself once more if he was really doing this. Oh of course he knew what his answer would be. It hadn't changed after all since he'd settled on this surprise a week ago. But now that the day had arrived well, he did admit to being a little unsure as to how you might react.

Of course he knew you'd never ask for anything like this. Hell you never asked him for anything except to come home safe from whatever mission S.H.I.E.L.D. sent him on. But this? No way would you ever ask for this. Fantasies after all were just that and you had shown him more than once since you met him that he was the only man you would ever willingly give yourself to. But what was he supposed to do? How could he unsee what his eyes had happened upon and not act?

--- BEGIN FLASHBACK ---

Cleaning up the house for you the previous Monday before a three day mission took him from your side once more, your laptop open on the floor by the bed was not something he ever poked around on. After all, you respected that there were parts of his job he couldn't share with you and he in return was only too happy to afford you the same privacy and respect.

But this time you had left it on.

Picking it up off the floor then and placing it on your desk before preparing to save your work and power it off, he had to admit a slight pang of curiosity when the word Steve caught his eye. Could this be something to do with that Steve? The same man he worked with and admired as much as anyone else who grew up on the fantastic stories of Captain America's exploits.

Looking around the room quickly just to make sure he wasn't being observed, he apologized next for what he was about to do though he knew no one was there to hear it, then sat down and set his sights on the beginning of the paragraph that held the name that so easily caught his attention. And then he started reading.

And what an interesting read it was.

Telling of a mission that involved Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes and Brock Rumlow deep in enemy territory, the shocking part wasn't how accurate your espionage knowledge was, it was instead how utterly exciting your imagination proved to be. Having just successfully wiped out a terrorist stronghold, their bodies needed rest and what few wounds they had accumulated needed tending, but that required a place to stay.

Which is where it seemed your fantasy persona came in.

The sweet and sassy owner of a little out of the way restaurant which also offered limited accommodation, you were only too happy to lock the place up and show the men upstairs to clean up while you tracked down any medical supplies you had that might prove useful. Placing all the items then on the nearest table while also dropping off fresh towels before clearing up any soiled clothes and useless materials, you then asked each of them what food they might like before leaving them to get on with the task of making themselves presentable once more.

Busying yourself around the kitchen then preparing their meals and making sure the closed sign did its job and deterred others from entering, all four of you next spent the rest of the evening eating and talking until night time found you ready to say goodbye to the day. At least once everything was cleared away.

Protesting strongly and talking them down now from trying to help out, the guys eventually and reluctantly kissed you gently on the cheek before heading upstairs to crash and recuperate in the beds you so kindly provided. But it seemed there would be no rest for you however.

Clearing up all the plates, washing down the newly soiled surfaces and sweeping up the floor, you finally made it up the stairs towards your own bed but something stopped you along the way. Finding Brock's door slightly ajar and taking a peek, your breath caught suddenly at the bare chest greeting you as the man slept oblivious to his audience. Standing there a while longer, mesmerized now by what you were seeing, you thought about entering to get a closer look until a low noise echoing loudly in the silence brought you back to your senses and took your feet in a totally different direction.

It appeared Steve was stirring.

Coming upon his door next just a little bit further along the corridor, your hand shot up to cover your mouth here so as not to allow your shocked scream to wake the man your eyes were currently feasting on. Laying on the bed now that looked far too small to hold his powerful frame, it was most definitely his naked form that had captured your attention. Spread out in all his glory with not a stitch of material between him and your curious gaze, the sudden heat between your thighs told you just how wrong your staring was. But you couldn't help it. Watching his chest rise and fall as something resembling a barked out order left his lips every now and then, it was a certain item between his legs however that kept pulling you in. In more ways than one.

Walking through the open door now as if held by a power beyond your control, one hand reached beneath your skirt as your other took on a life of its own and made its way towards Steve's resting member. Gliding your fingers now along your moistening slit, you were just about to breach your pussy as your fingers closed on Steve's shaft when the gods above saw fit to knock some sense back into you and release you from whatever horny gremlin seemed to have taken hold of you.

Coming back to yourself just in time as Steve rolled over onto his side and now graced you with a view of his gloriously fine ass, you sent up a silent thanks and quickly and quietly scurried from the room, grateful that you hadn't sexually violated Captain America himself.

Damn, how would you have explained that had he woken up.

Taking a few minutes now away from his door to catch your breath and scold yourself for your serious lack of judgment, you were just about to continue on the journey towards your room once more when a boxer wearing Bucky Barnes appeared before you out of nowhere and made you question briefly if you had been caught out after all.

Thankfully however that appeared not to be the case if his somewhat sleepy expression gave any indication.

Standing before you now as you finally made your way back to your body, you at last registered that Bucky was asking if everything was all right. Confirming as much while your eyes now fully focused on all that was the man before you, you swallowed the lump forming in your throat and silently cursed the images forming in your brain as you tried again to focus on what he was saying now while ignoring the delicious smell that wafted off him in the tight quarters that made up your hallway. Asking this time for a bottle of water to quench his thirst, you groaned silently at his choice of wording before insisting on getting one for him if only to put some much needed distance between him and your raging hormones.

Retracing your steps back to the kitchen then and retrieving a bottle out of the fridge, you turned around to head back upstairs and almost jumped out of your skin at the sight that greeted you instead. Standing in the doorway now before crossing the empty space between you, Bucky took the bottle from your hand before speaking. "Thanks doll, this is very much appreciated. As is your hospitality. Do let us know if there's any way we can show our appreciation," he added with a slow and knowing look down your body before removing the bottle cap, drinking all the water and tossing the now empty bottle expertly into the nearest recycling bin.

Turning on his heels then and heading back to bed as if this whole exchange had been completely innocent, you now stood alone in the empty kitchen wondering how you were supposed to make it to your room and find sleep with the thoughts currently invading your mind and creating a warm shower between your legs.

But how you accomplished this Brock would never know as the blinking cursor told him this was where real world sleep had stolen your creative spark and now it would have to wait until the muse came calling once again. Clicking the save button then and shutting down everything, he returned to his cleaning but stopped again when the red circle on the calendar caught his eye and the most mischievous of ideas ever conceived crossed his mind.

Perhaps this once he could be your muse.

--- END FLASHBACK ---

Leaving this memory behind now as the oven at last pinged off and signaled that the cake was finally ready, he then removed it and placed it on the wire rack to cool. Starting on the rest of the dinner next before your book club friends dropped you back to him after your morning spent doing whatever it was they had planned for you, a quick text to the guys, then icing and decorating of the cake and everything was perfect when you walked through the front door.

Happy now to be back home and in the company of the only man that made you feel immensely special, dropping the bags in the living room, taking off your coat and hurrying towards the kitchen caused even more love for him to swell within your heart. Filled to overflowing with just enough space for both of you to eat comfortably, your eyes were fit to pop out of their sockets as they marveled at the sight before you. And that was before they spotted the pile of presents strewn across the drawing room table.

Walking over to Brock now and nestling yourself within the safety of his welcoming arms, the smell of him mixed in with the aroma of all your favorite foods told you you were home. And it was the best feeling ever. Standing in his embrace just a little while longer, both of you then moved apart as Brock reminded you that as it was your birthday you got to pick how your day with him played out ... food, presents or the surprise he had planned for you.

Thinking back on the friends that had just dropped you off and spent the morning treating you to every manner of clothes, comic memorabilia and books you swore you didn't have room for, you most definitely now could do with some delicious food and it seemed Brock had this more than covered. Looking at the table again before confirming your choice, Brock now walked you to your seat, pulled it out for you and kissed you like a perfect gentleman as you sat down and tucked into absolutely everything except dessert which seemed to somehow be missing.

The reason behind this little slip you would discover later however.

Enjoying everything before you but still leaving room as Brock had instructed, you filled him in on the morning with your friends and slipped into the same easy rhythm you always felt around him until your man's phone pinged with an incoming message and the usual dread stole some of your fuzzy birthday glow. Could it be that S.H.I.E.L.D. was about to screw up the one day that Brock always made sure was spent by your side?

Picking up his phone now and reading through the text, he typed off a quick reply and smirked mischievously before placing the phone back down and turning his gaze fully back on your disappointed features. Something he couldn't have. "Ah come now beautiful, you didn't think I'd walk out on you today of all days? It's your birthday and that was simply the confirmation of your surprise," he clarified before standing up, taking your hand and leading you out of the kitchen.

Following him along the corridor now as he led you towards the bedroom door, your excitement deflated somewhat however when he opened the door on a room that looked as clean and plain as it always did. There was nothing here. No flowers. No candles. Hell there wasn't even any fancy lingerie laid out upon the bed for frisky fun. No, if this was your man's idea of a surprise it was sorely lacking and releasing your hand from his you were just about to tell him so when he opened the door to the en suite and totally took your breath away.

Waiting before you now as you took one tentative step after another, your heart sang with joy at the sight that was revealed. Steaming up from a warm and inviting hot tub, the scent of all your favorite oils would have been enough of a surprise if not for the melted chocolate and strawberries waiting on a table by the side. Looking in awe at Brock now as he slowly undressed, your mind was too distracted by his sheer beauty and thoughtfulness however to actually hear what was being said but somehow he found a way through.

"Hey beautiful, are you with me or do I need to send out a search party?" he asked as a quick snap of his fingers seemed to break the spell placed upon you and brought you back to the present. Righting all your neurons now as your eyes focused completely on Brock standing before you in nothing but his boxers, you would have gone to him and conveyed your appreciation for all he had done if he himself hadn't taken the initiative and brought himself to you.

Leaning forward then to kiss your lips and really make you forget about his naked form, words of love now whispered in your ear made him undressing you feel like a fevered dream until the change in the temperature caused goosebumps to rise along your naked flesh. Now you would need warming up in another way it seemed. Which is exactly what he had in mind.

Pulling back then and walking you towards the tub, Brock now removed his boxers and getting in, remained standing as he helped you enter the tub along with him. Sitting down then while still holding your hand, he next spread his legs in invitation and waited patiently for you to sit between them. Moaning out softly now as the water rose around you and warmed your chilled flesh, you now sank back against his waiting chest as both of you just relaxed and took a few moments to simply be.

No talk, no noise, just two souls breathing in unison, content in each other's arms. And then Brock had to add to the moment and make it absolutely perfect.

Pulling the small table alongside the tub, he then began dipping the strawberries into the melted chocolate before teasing you with the delicious treats. The corner of your mouth. Your lips. Your nose. Your cheek. Hell, he even managed to catch your nipples and collarbones once or twice and even though you too managed to catch each succulent dessert eventually, it was fortunate that you were in a bath to begin with as your top half now resembled a chocolate dappled human.

Turning on the taps again to heat up the tub and gently washing every inch of you then, his phone pinging from the bedroom once more reminded him that it was still your birthday and he still had one more surprise planned for you. Well two really, but they did combine to complete the present. Putting away the sponge now and wrapping you securely in his arms, he then rested his chin upon your shoulder before speaking. "You trust me, don't you beautiful? You know I'd never do anything to put you in danger or make you uncomfortable right?" he asked and as you turned your head towards him and answered "yes" he hoped neither of you would regret what happened next.

Accepting your reassurance then and helping you out of the tub, he dried both of you off gently but quickly before then opening the door and leading you back into the bedroom to the shock of your life. Stopping in your tracks to the point where Brock had no choice but to stop directly behind you, Bucky sitting across from the bed messing with his phone while Steve paced back and forth in front of him would have brought a slew of questions rolling off your tongue if not for the fact that they were currently in your bedroom, on your birthday while you and your husband stood there in nothing but a bathrobe and boxers.

Confused now but also having enough wits about you to accept that this was not some weird dreamlike fantasy, you turned around to push yourself and Brock back into the bathroom only to have all three sets of male eyes land on you and the look was unmistakable. Lustful, yet inquisitive, it was Brock again who broke the silence with an explanation your ears could not believe they were hearing.

"Happy birthday beautiful, the guys here have kindly offered to help make your fantasy come true for one special night only. That is of course if you're entirely willing," he added as his arms wrapped around you and came to rest against your ass before his lips came close to whisper in your ear. "I accidentally read some of your story while turning off your laptop. We're yours to use how you see fit."

Slightly confused and disappointed with what Brock now revealed, you promised yourself you would get the full story from him later but right now his offer took center focus in your mind. It sounded unreal. Brock, your husband, the man you loved more than life itself and who loved you equally in return was actually standing in your bedroom with Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes offering themselves up as what? Sex slaves? What exactly had he come across on your laptop?

Looking around at all three guys now as each one stared back at you awaiting your decision, you searched back through your memory to the last time you had used your laptop in the hopes of figuring out how this whole situation had come about. And oh boy did you remember. Recalling now the Winds of War erotic fiction novel you had last worked on before your muse had up and deserted you, you now remembered using the guys' names as a simple means of helping the story flow more easily before you later changed them to some generic variants when the time came to finally send it to your publisher.

Burying your face against Brock's chest now, both to hide your embarrassment and avoid their continued gaze, you then spoke your explanation and apology into that same chest before your husband pulled you apart and asked you gently to repeat what you had just said. "I said I'm sorry darling. I just use familiar names that help the story flow before I change them later. I've never actually thought of Steve or Bucky in that way," you finished, even if your eyes could not quite reach Brock's or look at the guys waiting behind you.

Kissing your lips gently now before lifting your chin to face him directly, he now looked into your apologetic eyes and whispered that he would therefore correct this misunderstanding and ask the guys to leave. A task he was just about to undertake when your hand suddenly landing on his chest indicated he should wait.

Looking at the guys now and really thinking about what was on offer for this one special night, you then turned back to Brock and flashed him the same mischievous smile he told you more than once captured his heart. You did want this. Nodding his head at the guys then and finally closing the bathroom door, he now led you to the bed and joined Steve and Bucky to await your instructions. It seemed you were going to be in charge.

Taking in the scene around you now and realizing how utterly wrong it looked, you quickly decided on the first course of action at least ... Steve and Bucky needed to join you and Brock in the no clothes department. Clearing your throat then and beckoning the two guys forward, you watched apprehensively as each of them did as they were instructed while Brock now took up residence in the chair that Bucky had just vacated.

Standing before you now as they watched you mull over how you wanted to proceed, the guys however hoped to ease your obvious discomfort. Bending forwards and placing a gentle kiss upon your right cheek, Steve wished you a happy birthday before Bucky did the same on your left while telling you to take all the time you needed. This confidence was further enhanced as you glanced between them to be rewarded with a cheeky wink and a reassuring nod from Brock that reminded you he was here for anything you needed. He always had your back.

Seizing now on Brock's silent encouragement and drawing the memory of your story to the forefront of your mind, you now watched in awe as your hands reached out to undo Steve and Bucky's belts before then going to work on their pants zippers. Realizing then however that there wasn't enough of you to treat each of them the way they deserved, you now sat back on the bed and settled on a different tactic ... it was your birthday after all which meant they should be tending you.

Slipping into the confident bratty attitude you liked your female characters to possess sometimes depending on the story you were telling, you now looked them straight in the eye and ordered both of them to strip. Which took them by surprise if their shocked looks were anything to go by, but thankfully Brock was on hand to add some humor to the situation. Laughing now from his spot on the chair, he reminded the guys once more that they did agree to this before heading out of the room with the promise that he would be back in a moment. Left alone now however, it seemed the guys were only too happy to follow orders and stripping quickly, were now kneeling by your feet in only their boxers when Brock returned to reveal his absence had resulted in a trip to the kitchen to retrieve your cake, complete with lighted candles.

Carefully kneeling also while taking up the space now present at the foot of the bed between Steve and Bucky, Brock then placed the cake before your crossed legs and told you to make a wish. Looking now at all three men waiting patiently for your next move, you took a breath and knowing what the night now held extinguished the flames in one go before waiting to see what happened next.

Producing a knife now, Brock then cut a slice and dividing it up in four pieces, passed one to you, Steve and Bucky before eating the last piece himself. Moaning in delight at the flavor that hit your taste buds while also knowing Brock had created the cake from scratch, you then leaned forwards and kissed him passionately before a completely different atmosphere overtook the room. The fun it seemed was now about to begin.

Handing the cake off to Bucky who placed it safely on the nightstand, the knife now in Steve's hands never left your sight as he brought it to his mouth and licked the remains of the blade in a move you swore was easily the sexiest thing you had ever seen. And it seemed he knew exactly what you were thinking if the wink and smirk he sent your way were any indication.

Squealing in surprise now however as Brock joined you on the bed and used your startled state to remove your bathrobe, you then marveled at the size you'd never taken notice of before when two more bodies climbed up beside you and still managed to lie down comfortably without falling off. Nestled between all three of them now, you watched briefly through hooded eyes as they each removed their boxers but didn't have much time to take in their newly exposed equipment before the flash of silver caught your eye.

Moving over your body now as Steve handed the knife to Bucky, another few cuts and your shocked laughter echoed through the room as your chest, stomach and intimate mound became interesting plates for slices of cake the guys then began to eat off your squirming frame. Eating, licking and nipping at your flesh now as their mouths made short work of the sweet dessert, you tried to figure out how they all managed to work around you but another feeling was making this task rather impossible.

It seemed this was how they planned to get things heated up.

Finishing up their slices then as Bucky took another piece and tenderly fed it to you, you swallowed it and any embarrassment you might have been feeling when Brock now spoke and took control of the room. "Okay guys remember, we're going to be thorough but gentle. Bucky, you've got her mouth. Steve, the pussy is all yours. And I my darling," winking at you now before continuing, "will take your ass if you're so inclined."

Gulping now as a memory returned of the one time you had mentioned this exact activity to Brock, you took a few moments to really gauge if he was serious and when you saw the love and sincerity reflected back at you, you knew this was it. He was finally willing to try out the one kink you had been hoping to explore. Though how these three massive powerhouses would manage to pull this off still totally baffled you. Not that you had time to tell them so. Reminding Steve and Bucky of the text messages they exchanged earlier, it now became apparent all that they had discussed when both the super soldiers agreed that they would not come inside you. It seemed every little detail had been agreed beforehand.

Looking quizzically at them now as you wondered if you would even survive this birthday bash, it was Bucky who somehow picked up on your apprehension and bent down to kiss you gently before speaking. "Don't worry doll, Steve and I are used to sharing and Brock knowing exactly how you like things means we got this covered. By the time we're done all you'll feel is totally blissed out," he promised and as the other two guys nodded in agreement you found it very hard to argue. That and the heat growing between your thighs and you knew if you turned back now you would only come to regret it. So smiling at them now, you lay back down against the pillows and waited to see how they planned on making all this work.

And you had to admit the whole thing was fascinating.

Knowing exactly who was using which hole, they still had to discuss how best to do it without causing you any degree of discomfort. This however was easily sorted out by a more shocking revelation as to the exact relationship between Steve and Bucky. It seemed women weren't the only things they shared and as Brock pulled you towards him so Bucky could seat himself where you just lay, Steve now laying down on his back with his head between the brunet's legs told you far more than you even needed to know.

These two had explored each other's bodies also.

Fascinated now by how this situation had come to be and dying to have them answer all the questions currently rattling around inside your head, their privacy would last a while longer however as Steve now broke through your distracted state and directed the next step in this wild adventure. "All right sweetheart, time to sit on over here and get a taste of Bucky," he now suggested as you finally focused on their hands leisurely working over their members which only now held your undivided attention.

How the hell were you ever supposed to take those?

Gulping at this thought now while moving back slightly towards the man who had organized this whole thing, his strong arms did little to reassure you however when you then remembered where he planned on slotting his tool. This whole thing was nuts. Here on the bed waiting to fill you up were three of the most gorgeous, powerfully built men you had on more than one occasion based the figures in your erotic novels on, but damn, never did you think that you would actually live out one of those same scenes.

Not that you had actually ever written a scene like this one.

Holding you closer now while murmuring words of love, praise and encouragement against your skin, precum now leaking from the cocks of the super soldiers told you it was time. Which was only confirmed further when a bottle of lube whipped past your ear and was caught successfully by Brock's outstretched hand. Focusing on Steve completely now as the cough he released brought you back to his earlier instruction, the moisture now pooling between your legs confirmed that any second guessing was over. Your body wanted this.

Turning slightly now to kiss Brock once more, you then moved forwards towards Steve's waiting body and placed your hand alongside his just to get a feel of his equipment. And what a feeling it was. Warm, thick and hard, it was most definitely his girth that surprised you the most. Of course Brock was not a small man by any means, but he was still human. Steve on the other hand was clearly enhanced and reaching out now to Bucky as well who while not as thick was definitely longer, your core now pulsed at the thought of taking these two men.

It seemed eager in fact to get started.

Letting go of Bucky's shaft and placing your knees now on either side of Steve's sculpted waist, you ran your weeping folds along Steve's rod before fixing your gaze on him and asking the one question that needed confirming. "No coming inside?" This he confirmed with the sincerest of promises and now with all the confidence you could muster, your moans joined his as you placed his head at your entrance and both of you moved as one. Dropping your head on his chest then as he gave you time to adjust to the fullness now enveloping your lower half, your head then rising up to smile at him was just the sign he needed. It was time to start moving.

Thrusting gently upwards now so as not to hurt you, the rhythm was extremely enjoyable and as your walls got used to every ridge and bump, you slowly relaxed more and more until you realized he was now fully nestled within you. Which actually shocked you. Telling him so then through slightly labored breaths, he left out a labored chuckle himself before reminding you that there was still two-thirds of the excitement to come.

Remembering now that the two of you were not alone, you then looked up at Bucky to see him still stroking his own shaft as you licked your lips in anticipation, but apparently it wasn't to be. Distracting you with his fondling and leaning forwards now to kiss your lips, two new hands replacing Steve's on your hips reminded you of what your husband had planned ... and part of you actually panicked. Seeing all their sizes was one thing, having them inside you now that Steve was taking up so much space was totally another. Your body was not meant for this. Sensing your panic however, Brock now nestled against your back and promised if you focused all your attention on Bucky the experience wouldn't seem half as shocking. Doing what he suggested, Steve remained perfectly still and Bucky discussed the day's activities as the sound of a cork popping was now the only other thing that competed with his voice.

Pouring a generous amount of lube then around the hole you wanted explored, but at the same time didn't, the chill of it shocked you far more than the feeling that followed shortly after when what you assumed was one of Brock's fingers breached the ring. In fact, it felt surprisingly slippery. Adjusting to this new sensation now and acknowledging that it was one you could definitely get used to, another finger later and your body began to crave more. Maybe it was the fact that Steve was just laying still below you watching every little reaction show upon your features, maybe it was the moisture trickling down your folds to collect at the base of his member or maybe it was that their teasing was reaching the point of being torture ... but you had reached the end of your patience.

Whining out now as Steve held you and Brock's fingers continued to tease and stretch this unexplored region, an empty pop replaced by a warm round pressure told you this torment was finally at an end and it was time for the next part of this adventure to begin. Looking into Bucky's excited blue eyes now as he talked you through what was about to happen, a slight amount of pressure later and you swore you were going to burst. Crying out now from the overwhelming feeling engulfing your nether regions, it took you a while to realize that Steve still hadn't moved in all this time and part of you actually wondered if he hadn't by any chance fallen asleep. Looking down to check however, he smiled up at you as Brock found his rhythm and when you smiled back at him that was when the real fun began.

Thrusting into your pussy now when Brock pulled out of your ass so only the head of his thing remained inside, they worked this rhythm back and forth until the fluttering in your core began to build and radiate outwards. This was when you really knew you were in trouble. Breathing heavier now as the guys panted out how well you were taking both of them, Bucky now placing his right hand on your head brought a shocked protest bubbling forth from your mouth. No way you could do this.

Licking your lips now in anticipation however, he gently moved you towards his erection as the guys continued to distract you with their own activities. Coaxing you next to stick out your tongue, his muscle now touching yours as Steve chose that same moment to hit a spot inside your pussy that had you crying out gave Bucky the perfect opening he needed. Pushing your head forwards now those few extra inches and as his head hit the back of your throat all three guys stilled within you. The four of you were now one.

Breathing slowly through your nose now and whatever bit of your mouth Bucky's shaft wasn't currently occupying, the adjustment period didn't last long however before your head soon began to bob up and down along the warm object. Adjusting to the new and complex rhythm all three guys now managed to employ, things proved a whole lot easier when you found your own comfortable pace and incorporated it into the pleasure each of them was giving you.

You were now a well oiled machine.

Giving up control now and simply breathing through your nose as the guys did exactly what they wanted, slapping skin, wanton moans and tightening muscles told you all four of you were nearing the edge. Fucking and swearing later as your muscles now began to strangle all of the items they had used to work you to this state, Steve and Bucky suddenly pulling out of you as Brock's fingers teased your secret bundle of nerves told you the dam was a about to burst.

And burst it did indeed.

Firing off all the tension built up inside you now, Bucky coming on your face and chest while Steve let loose against your stomach was nothing compared to the torrent you felt expelled from you and Brock. Coming stronger than you had ever come before, the waterfall leaving your pussy as Brock shook within your ass made you wonder how you could go back to one on one sex after this. But then again, perhaps after this regular old one on one sex might actually be a nice relaxing pace.

Allowing Brock to continue to work you through the never ending orgasms now as Steve and Bucky ran their fingers through their release and offered you a taste, another powerful burst from this uniquely erotic experience and you were done. Panting out heavily now as your body shook from the overload of wild experiences, Brock released his final burst and pulled out just as your body succumbed to exhaustion and toppled forwards onto Steve's waiting frame. Embarrassed however that you had now smeared cum between the two of you, the blond just chuckled and ran his hands along your back as Bucky caressed your face while Brock it seemed was not yet finished with you.

Spreading your cheeks apart now as the super soldiers continued to lavish you with praise and tender touches, you were shocked back to reality once more when a warm tongue now began to work its way between your ass and pussy. Cleaning you up now of your nectar as well as his own, you would have loved in this moment to push Brock from your overstimulated core but Steve was having none of it. Holding your arms perfectly still by your side, it seemed one more orgasm was waiting within you and as Brock sucked the last of your moisture from you, one more powerful wave took all awareness from you.

Waking up shortly afterwards then back on the bed completely spent as the guys said their goodbyes and Brock was heard starting up the shower to clean you up of cake, cum and saliva residue, you had to admit that while this was an experience you were not willing to take part in ever again it most certainly made this a birthday you would never forget and that was saying something.

#Missy's Birthday Celebration #Brock Rumlow #soft!Brock rumlow x female reader #Bucky Barnes #soft!Bucky Barnes x female reader #Steve Rogers #soft!Steve Rogers x female reader

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